Free The Infected (Book 1): Jim's First Day by Joseph Zuko

pass a sign that reads “DEAD END”. Shit, I hope not. The horde
has spotted us. I really feel the Five Hour Energy in my body now. I sprint
hard away from the horde. An older hippie couple has stepped out of their house
and walks out onto their front yard. They look confused when they see Devon and
I sprinting towards them dressed like hunters with homemade spears. Their look
of confusion changes to horror when they see what is behind us.
    “RUN!”
The man pushes his wife back towards their front door. Devon and I sprint past
their house. I didn’t mean for them to go back inside. Their house has a front
porch and low hanging windows. It is an old house from the fifties. Those
windows will not keep anything out. I look back over my shoulder and some of
the infected have split off from our horde and chase after them. The windows
shatter and the man and woman call out for help.
    The
sound makes me run faster. I am not used to running on anything other than a
treadmill. This thirty-pound pack only adds to the pain. We get to the end of
the block and find ourselves facing a steep hill. The ground is covered in sticker
brush and weeds. We will never make it up that hill and through the overgrown
brush.
    “Look!”
Devon points. Tucked in a corner near an old garage is a flight of stairs. It
is also overgrown with the sticker brush and tree branches. The stairs lead up
and onto the next street.
    I
duck under the first tree branch and get snagged on a thorny bush. It grabs at
my pants and jacket sleeve. I fight through it, but the little needles poke
through and get into my skin. Even with my soccer protectors on my arms and
legs they still get me. Devon and I slowly get to the top of the stairs. My
feet feel heavy, like cinderblocks, and my heart thumps like a heavy metal
drummer, fast and relentless. I pause at the top of the stairs and look down at
the infected. A thrashed UPS driver leads the pack. His brown shorts have
turned black with blood. A waitress follows him. She is from the German
restaurant. Her shirt is torn open and one of her breasts is exposed. Bite marks
cover most of her bouncing C-cup. It is one messy body after another. They
smash through the stickers and tree branches. Their horribly mangled bodies are
the only things slowing them down.  
    We
have entered into a nice little street of pretty houses. I step out onto the
asphalt. I am halfway across when I hear tires screeching on the pavement. A
sedan skids around the corner and it is doing eighty. I lock eyes with the
driver. This is it. I am dead. No way is this guy going to stop. He jams on his
brakes. I can’t believe it. He swerves at the last second to miss us. His sedan
smashes into a parked Volkswagen Bug. The parked car pops the curb and slides
across the front yard, right for the set of stairs we just ran up. The Volkswagen
hits the top of the stairs and it tips over. It is small enough to fit down
into the stairwell. The car slides down the concrete and slams right into the horde
that is halfway up the stairs. It pulverizes them and crushes their infected
bodies. The Volkswagen knocks out the whole horde when it comes to a stop at
the bottom of the stairs.
    The
sedan’s front end hits a pile of decorative stones that sit in the corner of
the house’s yard. The sedan flies into the air and hops over the stairwell. The
car comes to a stop at the top of the stairs. It blocks the stairs so that no
one can get up or down them anymore. The driver’s side door pops open and a man
in his forties falls out, landing on his back.
    “Damn
it!” I can’t leave him out here. He wrecked his car so he would not hit us. “Come
on,” I lead Devon back over to the man on the ground. He has a cut above his
right eye and blood drips down his face. When I get close enough and see there
is a wound on his forearm. “Did you get bit by one of those things?” He nods
his head yes.
    “Should
we leave him?” Devon pulls at my pack.
    “Do
you live around