The bullet punched through the infected's skull. Blood and brain matter sprayed from the exit wound, splattering Bryan's face and clothes.
The creature collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, hitting the floor without so much as a twitch. Blood pooled rapidly beneath it, spreading across the hardwood, filling the air with the coppery stench of death.
Bryan's strength left him all at once. He sank to his knees, gasping for breath.
Behind him, Sarah stood paralyzed, trembling from head to toe.
Joel had just finished putting down Jimmy when he turned to find one kid collapsed and the other in shock. He wasn't sure what to say, but he knew they couldn't stay.
"Get up. We're leaving. Now."
He hauled Bryan to his feet, grabbed Sarah's hand, and pulled them both toward the front door.
They'd barely stepped outside when a truck screeched to a halt in front of the house. The driver spotted them and relief flashed across his face.
"Where the hell were you? I've been calling! It's chaos out there!"
"I know. Stop talking and drive."
Joel wasted no time, yanking open the back door and shoving the two stunned teenagers inside. Then he circled to the passenger seat.
"Jesus, you're covered in blood! Are you hurt?"
"Not mine. Let's go."
Tommy didn't argue. He threw the truck into reverse, then peeled out toward the highway.
In the backseat, Bryan stared at his hands, replaying the moment over and over.
I killed someone.
The feeling was horrible. Nauseating. But he was an adult—mentally, at least. He forced himself to breathe, to process. And as the initial shock faded, he realized something had shifted inside him. Some barrier had broken.
He'd once read an article about convicted murderers. After the first kill, once you pushed through the initial panic and revulsion, something fundamental changed. You started seeing yourself as different from other people—superior, even. Capable of deciding who lived and who died. Other humans stopped being equals and became potential prey. Any frustration, any inconvenience, and the first instinct was eliminate the problem.
Once you got used to solving problems with violence, violence would consume you.
Bryan filed that warning away. He'd need to stay rational. Stay human.
"Bryan? Sarah? You two okay?"
Joel turned to check on them. He'd never been fond of the neighbor kid—too close to his daughter for comfort—but the boy had stepped up when it mattered, protected Sarah when she needed it. That earned him some grudging respect.
"I'm fine."
Bryan checked on Sarah. She nodded weakly.
"My mom called earlier," Bryan said. "She said the infection's completely out of control. What's it like out there?"
Joel wanted to know too. He looked to Tommy.
"Hell if I know the details. They're saying people in the city have lost their minds—some kind of parasite or something. Phones are down. Radio's dead. Can't get any real information."
Silence filled the cab. Everyone understood how dire things had become.
As they approached a fork in the road, Tommy suddenly spoke up.
"Saw something on the news before I left. Military's got roadblocks on the highway—nobody's getting into the city. Which way?"
"...If the highway's blocked, take the 71."
"Got it."
A police cruiser screamed past as they turned onto the new route. Along the way, they passed families frantically loading cars, desperate to flee with their loved ones.
They saw a vehicle wrapped around a tree, driver's door hanging open, interior empty. A long trail of blood led away from the wreck and disappeared into the darkness.
"What the hell are these things?"
Joel's brow furrowed, thinking of the infected they'd encountered at the house.
"Nobody knows. Cops are clueless."
Tommy kept his eyes on the road. "It's not just here, either. Started in the south, but it's spreading east and west fast..."
Fifteen minutes later, they reached Route 71—and found it backed up for miles. A river of taillights stretched into the distance, every horn blaring.
"Looks like everyone had the same idea."
Cars were gridlocked. A helicopter thundered overhead. Up ahead, a man in a blue sedan lost his patience and stormed out of his vehicle.
"What the hell's the holdup?! MOVE IT!"
The words barely left his mouth before two figures in hospital gowns burst from the shadows. One tackled him to the ground and started tearing at his throat. The other dove through his open door at the woman in the passenger seat.
Everyone in Tommy's truck froze.
The infected that had brought down the driver finished with its prey, spotted fresh meat in the nearby vehicle, and charged.
"TOMMY! REVERSE! NOW!"
Joel's shout broke the spell. Tommy slammed the truck into reverse and floored it, veering off toward the nearby town.
They made a hard left onto a main street—and ran straight into a stampeding crowd.
The mass of panicked humanity slowed them to a crawl. Ahead, an abandoned car blocked most of the road, leaving barely enough room to squeeze through.
"Come on, come on..."
Joel urged his brother forward. Tommy grit his teeth, punched the accelerator, and threaded the needle.
HONK!
They'd barely cleared the intersection when blinding headlights appeared from the left. A runaway truck, completely out of control—
CRASH!
Metal screamed against metal as the truck T-boned them, sending their vehicle rolling. It flipped multiple times before coming to rest on its side against a storefront.
"What the—!"
Bryan didn't know how long he was out. He came to with his head throbbing like someone was driving nails into his skull. Miraculously, nothing seemed broken.
The car lay on its side. Sarah and Joel were both unconscious. Tommy's seat was empty—he must have been thrown clear.
Bryan tried the door. Jammed. The frame was too warped. But the sunroof was accessible. He wrenched it open and climbed out.
The street was chaos. People fled in every direction. Fires lit up the night. Infected silhouettes lurched in the middle distance.
"Sarah! Joel! Wake up!"
He crouched by the sunroof and shook Joel, then pulled Sarah through the opening without waiting for him to respond. Given the size difference, he wasn't sure he could manage Joel anyway.
Sarah groaned back to consciousness just as Bryan was checking her for injuries.
She started to answer—then her eyes went wide, fixed on something behind him.
An infected was sprinting toward them from the shadows.