Thirty Three

Angie looked around one last time for Park, then turned to run outside. She heard movement from behind the smashed remains of the dispatch desk. She stopped and looked. Park’s form emerged from behind the desk.

“Park?” she yelled.

Park lumbered forward.

“Shit,” said Angie, turning to run.

Park coughed. “Wait for me, dammit!”

Angie sighed and turned back. “Say something quicker next time!”

“Mom!” came a voice from outside.

Maylee.

“Maylee?” yelled Angie. She rushed out of the hole in the wall. The cool morning air hit her. Flaming corpses were scattered around the parking lot. Maylee and Dalton were running toward her.

“Mom!” yelled Dalton.

Angie ran forward after them.

They met and Angie hugged them both as tight as she could. “Are you both alright?”

“Yeah,” said Dalton, nodding. “But man do we have a lot of crap to tell you!”

“Me, too,” said Angie. Park stepped up behind them, brushing off his hunting jacket and looking around.

Angie looked at Maylee. She looked tired. Dirty, bruised and tired.

“You sure you’re okay?” Angie said.

“Yeah,” said Maylee, nodding.

“You did good.”

Maylee smiled and nodded.

“Damn,” said Park, looking around.

Angie looked around too. The lot was scattered with corpses, some of them still moving.

Beyond that, she could see a few corpses stumbling down the road.

Beyond that, corpses wandered the woods near the hospital.

And beyond that, she could see the faintest dots of corpses stumbling on the horizon.

She gripped her kids to her. Tightly. “Well, shit.”