***
We
woke
late
the
next
morning,
around
ten,
and
had
a
quick
breakfast
of
granola
bars
and
water.
Dad
opened
the
attic
door
and
surveyed
the
area
before
we
climbed
downstairs.
Equipped
with
duffel
bags
and
backpacks,
we
loaded
up
with
as
much
food,
water,
clothes,
and
blankets
as we
could
carry.
I
glanced
out
the
window
into
the
empty
streets.
The
sun
shone
and
it
seemed
like
a
normal
day,
but
everything was
quiet.
Not
even
a
dog
barked.
My
stomach
knotted.
We
couldn’t
stay
in
the
house
. It
was
a
death
sentence.
So
much
could
happen.
The
greatest
worry
was
what
we
’d
do
if
we
ran
out
of
food
and
water. Other
things
could
happen,
too.
Like
the
house
could
catch
fire
or
fill up
with
zombies.
We’d
be
trapped
in
the
attic
and
have
to
endure
a
slow,
painful
death.
Even
those
thoughts
didn’t
make
me
feel
any
better
about
venturing
out
into
the
open.
After
all
the
supplies
were
collected,
we
met at
the
garage.
As
quietly
as
possible,
Dad
strapped
our
belongings
and
extra
gas
tanks
to
the
two
four
wheelers.
“Are
you
sure
we
can’t
take
the
car?”
Mom
whispered.
“I
’d
feel
so
much
safer
with
sides
and
a roof.”
Dad
handed
Mom
her
helmet.
“I
know, but
if
people
abandoned
their
vehicles
on
the
road,
we
won
’t
be
able
to
make
it
in
the
car.”
He
placed
his
hands
on
her
shoulders
and
his
forehead
against
hers.
“We
discussed
this last
night.
The
fastest
way
to
get
to
the
base
is
by
four wheeler.
It
might
not
be
the
safest,
but
we
don
’t
have
any
other
option.”
Mom
nodded.
Dad
kissed
her
gently
on
the
mouth
and
patted
her
shoulder. Mom
pulled
the
helmet
onto
her
head.
I
took
a
deep
breath
and
did
the
same.
Dad
made
sure
both our
chinstraps
were
secure before
pulling
on his
own
and
then
climbing
onto
his
ATV.
Mom
climbed
onto hers,
and
I
climbed
on
behind
Dad.
We
took
a
collective
breath,
then
started
the
engines.
The
garage
door
rose.
I held
my
breath
and
waited
for a
horde
of
undead
to
swarm
us.
I
released
it
when
Dad
gunned
the
engine
and
the
ATV
shot
out
into
the
street.
I
glanced
over
my
shoulder to
make
sure
Mom was
behind
us.
We
zigzagged
our
way
through
the
deserted
streets.
Dad
had
been
right
about
the
main
ones
in
town—they
were
blocked
with
abandoned
cars.
The
going
was
slow
at first,
but
not
as slow
as
the
zombies
that
followed
us.
At
first,
there
were
only
a
couple,
but
after
ten
minutes
of
threading through
the streets,
the
number
grew.
I
gripped
the
back
of Dad
’s
jacket
until
my
knuckles
were
white
and
my
fingers
ached.
I
kept
turning
around
to
make
sure
Mom
was
behind
us
and
didn
’t
relax
until
we
made
it
to
the
highway
where
the
cars
thinned
out
and
the
zombies
were
left
behind.
Dad
threaded
through
the
trees
to
stay
away
from any
cars that
had
been
left
on
the
road
and
any
zombies
that
might
inhabit
those
vehicles.
We
stopped
after a
while
to
refuel
and
get
something
to
drink.
My
throat
was
dry,
but
my
stomach
was
in
knots,
so it
was
difficult
to
swallow
the
water.
Every
little
sound
made
me
jump.
A
bird
tweeted
and
I
almost
peed
my
pants.
I
had
to
force
myself
to
take
deep
breaths
and
calm
down.
Mom
and
Dad
wouldn
’t
let
anything
happen
to
me.
“The
base
should
be
right
over
that
ridge.”
Dad
pointed
to
the
hill
on
his
right.
“We
should
approach
it
slowly
in
case
it’s
been
taken
over
by
zombies.”
Mom
and
I
nodded.
Dad
gave
me
a
rifle,
and
I laid it
across
my
lap.
When
the
four
wheelers
were
refueled
and
we’d
had
our
fill
of
water,
we
climbed
back
on,
heading
toward
the
hill.
We
stopped on
the
top
of
the
ridge. The
base
was
right
below
us.
Hundreds
of
people
were
lined up
to
get
into
the
gate.
Soldiers
with
automatic
weapons
kept
the
masses
in
order
and
shouted
instructions
for
them
to
follow.
As I
surveyed
the
area,
I
noticed
ambulances
at
the
far
end.
I
tightened
my
grip
on
the
stock
of
the
gun.