What They Don't Know: A Short Story

Part 3

I got out of the car and see that the front of it is smashed in, the blue metal of our car merging with the silver of the one we smashed into.

I grabbed the food, water and my extra clothing, medical supplies and gun ammo backpacks and surveyed my surroundings.

The area surrounding the highway was almost treeless and the wind blew through easily, causing my hair whip around my face. The barren landscape was filled with zombies, moaning and wandering around, hunting for flesh to feast on. I held my gun tightly in my hand, ready to fire.

I looked into the trunk of the silver car and found a carving knife, which would come in handy. I tucked that into my pocket and stuffed everything I had with me into two backpacks. With that, I began sprinting down the highway to a nearby town. The zombies saw me running and began hobbling after me, but I was faster than them.

I ran for a long time and only stopped when I felt that I would cough up my lungs. A blanket of dark grey clouds had covered the sky, threatening to rain at any moment. The air was humid and sticky, making my face sweat. My feet felt like lead blocks that I had to drag, and my heart felt the same.

I saw a nearby town and walked as fast as I could towards it. There was a mash of broken glass and torn metal cars that littered the highway outside the city, and zombies surrounded this place like a wall. The buildings were in good shape still, but they were all abandoned, the people gone.

I forced my weary body to run again, killing the zombies that got too close. I reached the inside of the city and looked for a place to rest.

As I walked around the town, I saw a dented cooking pot sitting on the sidewalk, the rounded bottom beginning to rust from humidity and rain. I saw my mom standing there in that moment, watching her cooking show as she tossed bright orange carrot slices into the pot. I bent down beside the pot and picked it up, feeling its rough metal.

"Mom, I wish you were here," I whispered. I placed the pot on a bed of flowers and continued walking down the street, looking for refuge.

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