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[ 1ST POV: ZAIN MATTHEW'S ]
Now, not be annoying, and this most differently is irrelevant, but.
The stairwell smelled like copper and bleach, a scent I knew too well from the locker rooms after a bad night on the preliminary card, only this time the bleach was missing and the copper was fresh.
We burst out into the parking garage, floor 2, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind us, muffling the screams that were still echoing inside the mall like a twisted choir practice. The sun was beaming and blinding.
Funny, huh? It was a nice day. Birds were chirping. The world was ending, and the birds didn't give a shit.
Hell, maybe even the animals.
"Car," I breathed out, scanning the lot. "We need a car that isn't a modern plastic computer on wheels."
"Zain, the Honda is right there!" Kayla pointed to our reliable, fuel-efficient, responsible-parent SUV about five lanes over.
"Nah, to far," I immediately replied, spotting a cluster of shoppers sprinting past our car, followed closely by a guy who looked like he'd tried to eat a lawnmower. "We need something closer. Something that's good to stack. Something ugly aswell."
That's when I spotted it. A rusted-out, tank-like Ford Crown Vic, probably from the late nineties, sitting alone near a concrete pillar. It had a dent in the rear bumper and looked like it smelled of stale cigarettes, regret and depression.
It was perfect.
I sprinted over, Kayla and Izzy glued to my back. The driver's side window was cracked open a sliver --- classic mistake, or a blessing from the apocalypse gods. Who knew?
"Papa, that's not our car," Izzy whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched the back of my shirt.
"It's a loaner, Iz. Some depressed guy gave it to me when you weren't looking~"
I felt my hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I didn't glance back. That was death back there.
I jammed my fingers into the crack of the window, and pulled. Luckily it didn't shatter; the whole mechanism just groaned and popped off the track. I unlocked it, threw the door open, and dove under the steering column before my ass even hit the seat.
"Keys! Zain! Keys!" Kayla hissed, shoving Izzy into the back seat and scrambling into the passenger side. "We don't have keys!"
"We don't need 'em~"
I ripped the plastic casing off the steering column. Wires dangled like multicolored spaghetti. I'd seen a video on this once. It was 3:00 AM, I couldn't sleep because my shoulder was throbbing from training, and the YouTube algorithm decided I needed to learn how to be a thief.
Red to battery. Yellow to starter. Twist.
"Annnnd spark~"
Tiz! Tizz! Vroooooom~!!
The engine roared to life. A beautiful, gas-guzzling V8 growl.
"Yeah, baby!"
I sat up, wiping my hands on my jeans, grinning like I'd just won the lottery. "How long was that? Ten seconds? Fifteen? Hehe~!"
I looked over at Kayla, expecting a 'My Hero' look, because you know, I just saved our butt.
Instead, she was staring at me with her mouth slightly open, looking equal parts horrified and accusing.
No 'My hero' look to be seen.
"You..." she started, blinking rapidly. "You look way too happy about stealing a car, Zain."
"Oooh, c'mon love! I at least deserve a 'good boy', No?" I protested, already been seated, throwing the car into drive.
"You're a bad boy, Papa," Izzy piped up from the back, buckling her seatbelt with shaky hands. "Mama says stealing is for villains. So Papa is a villain."
"We're anti-heroes today, Iz," I winked at her through the rearview mirror, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Anti-heroes get to break the rules. Plus, didn't Papa look cool~?"
"Hmmm, I guess Papa loo—?"
"Just focus on driving, you delinquent!" Kayla slapped my arm, though I saw the tension in her shoulders drop half an inch.
I floored it. The Crown Vic lurched forward, suspension squeaking like a dying bedspring. We navigated the parking lot, weaving around abandoned shopping carts and people who were running in circles.
"Where are we going?" Kayla asked, her voice pitching up as we hit the main exit ramp. "Police station? We should go to the police station, right? They have guns. Walls. Safety."
"Nada," I cut in, swinging the heavy sedan onto the main road. "Police stations are the first place everyone goes. It's gonna be a deliciously delicious buffet line. So we head out. Countryside. Less people, less things trying to eat us. And more space for escape."
"But the police—"
"My love, trust me. If the cops could handle this, they would be here already. We go to the farm. Old Man Jenkins' place. He hates people. It's perfect."
From the corner of my eyes, I could see her expression change. A look that said 'are you an idiot'.
"Old man .... J? Nope. Never. That damn old man will kill you before you could say 'hi'!"
Her words were understandable, old man J didn't really like me after .... I stomped his hea—
CRUNCH!!!!
The reply in my head died instantly.
A body slammed onto the windshield right in front of Kayla.
It wasn't a clean hit. The Z --- a woman in a torn floral dress --- latched onto the wipers, her face smashing against the glass. A spiderweb of cracks exploded outward. Through the safety glass, I saw her eyes. Or, the lack of them. Just milky white marbles and a mouth full of blood.
She shrieked, clawing at the glass, trying to chew through it to get to Kayla.
Kayla didn't scream .... Okay, maybe she did. But she also just made this small, strangled squeak, shrinking back into her seat.
So did Izzy, poor girl hurt my eardrums.
"Get off the fuckin' ride, lady!"
I yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. The car swerved violently. The G-force ripped the zombie's grip loose, sending her tumbling off the hood and into the asphalt at forty miles an hour. She bounced like a ragdoll. An ugly one.
But the swerve came with a cost. The tires shrieked --- a long, piercing wail of burning rubber that echoed off the nearby buildings.
"Zain!" Kayla pointed out her side window. "Look!"
I looked. From the alleyways, from the storefronts, from the shadows --- heads snapped toward us.
To be more precise, It was like kicking an anthill. But zombie's instead.
"Oooh, you have got to be kidding me," I muttered.
The road ahead was blocked. A delivery truck had jackknifed, creating a wall of steel. And behind us? The fan club was arriving. Dozens of them. Sprinting for my very soul.
Cool fans, huh?
"Reverse! Zain, reverse!" Kayla screamed, clutching the dashboard.
"I AM!"
Now, here's the thing. I can calculate the trajectory of a spinning back fist in milliseconds. I can time a sweep to a heartbeat. But driving a boat-sized sedan in reverse while looking over my shoulder?
I slammed the gear stick up. The transmission clunked. I hit the gas instantly.
We shot backward, but I overcorrected. The car fishtailed, swerving like a drunk shopping cart.
"Left! Go left! You're gonna hit the pole!" Kayla yelled.
"I'm going right! Why is left right in the mirror?!" I shouted back, my sweat on my forehead stinging my eyes.
We scraped the guardrail --- SCREEEEEEECH!!! --- sparks flying past the window.
"Papa, you're a bad driver!" Izzy cried out.
"Damn, not you too!" I gritted my teeth, wrenched the wheel hard, and ripped the hand brake up.
The front end swung around, a sloppy, terrifying J-turn that almost flipped us, but we ended up facing the right way. Down a side street. Away from the truck.
I stomped the gas again. The V8 roared, and we shot forward just as the first few sprinters clawed at the rear bumper.
We tore down the street, putting distance between us and the horde. I exhaled, my heart rate seemingly not trusting me to settle. The city was unraveling fast. Cars were crashed everywhere. Smoke was rising in pillars.
I needed to keep them calm. If I panicked, they panicked.
And to that, I gotta put my sarcasm to uses.
I glanced at a zombie stumbling out of a Starbucks, wearing a green apron. "Heh~! Look at that guy over there. Still trying to serve fellow customers. That's some dedication to the grind. Man must love his job, Huh?"
Silence from the passenger princesses.
But I wasn't one to back down from a formidable challenge.
I swerved around a guy chewing on a fire hydrant. Ready to roast the dude. "And that buddy... seriously needs a moisturizer routine. Ashy as hell. You think they have lotion in the afterlife? Dude's gonna need a loooot~. Scrub a dub-dub! Am I right~?"
"Zain," Kayla whispered, her hand trembling as she reached over to squeeze my thigh. "Please shut up."
"Shutting up. You got it."
We hit the downtown intersection. The big one. This was Philadelphia, after all. The traffic was gridlocked. It was a sea of metal and panic.
"We can't get through," I said, scanning for a gap. "We have to go around."
I was about to hit the gas and go around, but a scene stopped me from blitzing passed everyone.
A ambulance, unstoppable and fast, plowing through the intersection like a bowling ball. It smashed into a silver Volvo, t-boning it and spinning it out violently.
The Volvo crunched, glass flying, spinning until it slammed into a light pole.
"Oh my god," Kayla gasped.
I slowed down, my foot hovering over the brake. My instinct, the survival side of my brain, screamed Keep driving. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.
I saw movement in the wrecked Volvo. A man, medium length long blonde hair, dragging himself out. Two kids were scrambling from the back. They were dazed, stumbling, as a women frantically looked for them.
And the runners were closing in on them. The one's closest to them.
"Papa," Izzy's voice was small, but it cut through the noise of the engine like a knife.
I looked in the rearview. She was leaning forward, tears prickling up in her eyes, pointing at shaky hand at the family. "Papa, help them! We can't leave them! Or the monsters will get them!"
I gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked. Every second we stopped was a second we could die. I looked at Kayla. Trying to find a 'absolutely not' in her eyes. But she was just terrified, and nodded.
Giving me my answer.
'Damn it!' I thought.
I looked back at Izzy. "Your wish is my command, princess."
I pulled the hand brake up. The Crown Vic skidded to a halt right next to the wrecked Volvo.
I rolled down the passenger window. "GET IN! NOW! UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE LUNCH!"
The man --- Gerry, I think I heard the women scream --- looked up, eyes wide with shock and confusion. But it didn't stop him from hesitating. He grabbed the woman and shoved the kids toward us.
"Move over!" I barked at Kayla. She scrambled into the back seat with Izzy, making room in the front for the women.
The back door flew open. The two kids dove in, practically landing on Izzy and kayla.
"Papa, watch out!" Izzy screamed.
I looked left. A zombie was clawing at my door. I didn't have room to open the door to hit him.
"Hold the wheel!" I yelled at the woman diving into the passenger seat.
I kicked my door open. It slammed into the zombie's chest, knocking him back a step, and I tumbled out onto the asphalt.
"What are you doing?!" Kayla shrieked.
"Making room!"
I stood up. The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and rot.
Gerry was trying to shove his kids in, but three of the infected were sprinting around the back of the car, aiming right for the open door where my family was exposed.
"Oh, fuck no."
I looked down. A piece of the Volvo's exhaust pipe was lying on the ground. Rusty. Heavy. jagged on one end.
I snatched it up immediately.
The first zombie lunged at the open door.
I didn't pose. I didn't kiai. I stepped in, swung the pipe like a baseball bat, and connected with the side of its head.
THWACK!!
The sound was dull and wet. The skull collapsed like a wet cardboard box. The zombie dropped instantly.
The second one was right behind it. I choked up on the pipe, thrusting the jagged end into its throat, driving it back, then ripped it out and swung a backhand downward stroke that shattered its collarbone and jaw.
"Get inside!" I roared at Gerry, grabbing the back of his jacket and shoving him into the backseat with the pile of children.
"Wait! You!" Gerry yelled, trying to grab my arm.
"Close the door!"
He slammed the rear door shut just as a third zombie threw itself against the glass, smearing blood over the window where Izzy's terrified face was.
The car was full. All it needed was me Inside.
I moved to the driver's side, almost tumbling as the adrenaline fueled my legs, My hand snapped outwards, reaching for the handle.
THUMP!!
A zombie dropped from the sky, or rather, from the roof of the ambulance, landing squarely on the roof of the Crown Vic. It snarled, swiping down at me.
I weaved, feeling the wind of its claws miss my eyes by an inch. I stumbled back.
That was the mistake.
I backed up four steps. In those four steps, four more sprints filled the gap between me and the driver's door.
I was cut off.
I looked at the horde. Then I looked at the car. The engine was still running. Thankfully.
I locked eyes with Gerry through the driver window. He was in the back, leaning over the front seat.
"DRIVE!" I screamed, my voice cracking with the sheer volume. "GET THEM OUT OF HERE!"
"WHAT!! NO!! ZAIN!!" Kayla's scream tore from the back seat, raw and I think broken?
I didn't look at her. If I looked at her, I'm certain that I wouldn't do this.
"MEET ME AT THE MALL UP NORTH! THE BIG ONE! I'LL FIND YOUS THERE!"
"NOW GO!"
Gerry didn't argue. He climbed into the driver's seat, threw it into gear, and slammed the gas.
"NOO!! STOP!! WE CAN'T LEAVE!!" I heard Kayla yell.
From the back windshield, I couldn't visibly see Izzy poke her head up. A whole waterfall of tears running down her face.
The car peeled out, tires smoking, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the intersection.
"Papa!!" I heard Izzy scream as they sped away.
The sound broke my heart, but it also woke up something deep inside me. The fear I felt before? Gone.
I turned around. I was surrounded. Thirty, maybe forty of them. Closing in.
The three who made me stuck? Those dude's were a few feet away now, since they, for some reason, stuck to the car. Only being thrown off bu the wind force.
"Alright, you ugly bastards," I muttered, spinning the pipe in my hand. "Let's dance."
But I wasn't suicidal. I was just cocky.
I waited until they were four arm's length away. Then, I turned and bolted.
Not away from them but toward the gridlock.
I planted my foot on the bumper of a stalled taxi, launched myself up, and landed on the roof.
Metal crunched under my Adidas. Squeaking on the polished roof.
I didn't stop. I sprinted across the roof of the taxi, leaped over a gap, and landed on top of a another car. The zombies below were sprinting after me, a little way behind. Some were even following my steps.
But I didn't care, I was now flying. Car to car. Roof to roof. The floor is lava, apocalypse edition basically.
It's quite fun.
I paused on top of a bus, breathing heavy, the adrenaline making the world look high-definition. I looked down the road behind me.
I could see the taillights of the Crown Vic fading into the distance. Telling my heart that they were now safe.
For now.
I looked back at the horde gathering below the bus, quite a few of them now, all looking up at me like I was a piñata.
But, to my annoyance, they could make it up.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, twirled the bloody pipe once, and flashed a smirk that I hoped looked cooler than I felt.
"Catch me if you can, assholes."
I turned and sprinted toward the horizon, jumping to the next roof, leaving.