"Listen, I'm not one of those fuckers" Francis looks at the bearded man with a shotgun pointed at him,"I've had a very bad day".
"Your day's about to get worse" the bearded man replies.
"Dad" a young man, around 18 with wavy blonde hair and wearing blue jeans and a dirty black shirt, comes around the corner,"what are you doing?"
The bearded man looks to his son, turning back to Francis lowering the gun,"sorry, I just don't like strangers. Call me Jim" turning to his son,"this here is my boy, Alex".
Francis looks at both of them, taking a deep breathing,"I'm Francis" telling them.
Jim motions Francis to follow them,"come" heading to the back.
Francis follows after them, looking around, everything dusty and dead. An odd smell in the air.
Jim leads Francis into a small room with two beds, a lantern and some canned foods on the floor,"welcome to paradise".
Francis looks around,"you guys sure made yourselves at home".
"What did you come here?" Jim turns around, asking Francis.
"I was looking for a man. He owned this dealership" Francis looks down at the ground,"he was my brother".
"Sorry to hear" Jim sits on one of the beds, opening up one of the cans with his hands,"we're from Las Vegas".
"How are you two still alive?" Francis asks him.
"I can ask you the same thing" Jim throws the can of beans into his mouth.
"Luck" Francis replies back.
Jim swallows the beans, responding back,"luck huh? I don't believe in luck".
Francis turns his head, looking at Alex taking guard in the front, sitting in the dark,"how old is your boy?"
"18 years old" Jim explains,"he believed he was going to marry Chloe Grace Moretz one day" the man chuckles.
"She's adorable" Francis turns back to the big guy,"ain't nothing wrong with having a Hollywood crush".
"He owned every single movie she was in" Jim tells him, setting his shotgun aside,"Chloe inspired him to be an actor".
"Your boy's an actor?" Francis asks, wiping away some blood from his arm.
"He wanted to be one, but, life has it's up & downs" Jim shakes his head,"we're headed to New Orleans. Heard they got their own little quarintine zone".
"There is no safe zone" Alex appears in the doorway,"don't you get it, dad? Everyone's fucking dead".
Jim turns to his son, letting out a couple coughs,"says the guy with a useless crush on a now dead celebrity. We can't abandon hope, not now".
"Hope died a long time ago, along with all of your whiskey" Alex walks out of the room.
Jim turns to Francis,"never have kids. They'll be a pain in your rear end" he gets up,"I'm not going to last long".
Francis points to one of the canned beans,"may I?"
Jim nods his head,"it ain't going to eat itself".
Francis pulls off the top,"we're all not going to last long".
Jim stares down at the ground feeling his beard,"I'm not".
"What are you sa....you got bit?" Francis looks at the bearded man, Jim.
"Keep your voice down" Jim lowers his voice, pulling up his left sleeve revealing a small bite on his arm.
Francis stares at it, as he stops chewing,"when did....?"
"A few hours ago" Jim turns to his son sitting by the front door,"he's the only family I have. He has what I don't, bravery".
Francis just looks at Jim as he pulls back up his sleeve,"the kid needs to know".
"Keep him safe" Jim turns to Francis, grabbing his shotgun,"and I'm sorry about your brother".
"What are you doing?" Francis looks at the bearded man.
"Alex has a chance" pointing the double barrel to his head,"tell him, I'm sorry".
"NOOO" Francis yells, trying to stop him.
Jim pulls the trigger, as his head gets blown off his shoulders. Pieces of his brain all over the floor, as Alex runs into the room.
