The whole neighbourhood is under attack. It’s like bloody Sarajevo.
One of the houses on Nick’s right was billowing thick black smoke from some unseen fire taking hold. Muffled screams came from inside and joined the ones that were already filling the air with their collective buzz.
People were fighting and dying all around him.
Nick sat in his car, staring through the windscreen, frozen by what he was witnessing. There was just too much to take in. So much horror. It filled his eyes and ears.
Stumbling down the road towards him was a young boy, not much older than James. He wasn’t quite like the other sick people, though; he was slower and clumsier then they were, almost like he was drunk. When the boy stepped into the cone of the car’s headlights, Nick saw that his intestines were hanging out and dragging on the ground behind him. Every couple of steps the boy would tread on them and stumble.
How is that kid still walking? His guts are on the floor, hanging out like kebab meat.
Nick couldn’t take any more. He gear-changed into reverse and shot the car backwards. He kept going, until the shadows reclaimed the nightmarish child and the chaos of his street. Once there was nothing left to see, he stamped on the brake and stopped the car.
He sat there for a few seconds, hyperventilating. For a brief moment he almost convinced himself that it was all over and that he was the one who had been sick all along, hallucinating with fever.
There’s nothing happening here. When I head back to the front of my house I’ll see that I was just imagining it all. Maybe I’m the one with fever.
But he knew that wasn’t true. People were dying and he needed to get help. Help for Deana.
Nick shifted back into first gear and rolled the car forwards, picking up speed as quickly as the 2-litre engine would allow. The sooner he found help, the better things would be. Somewhere there would be people dealing with the situation. Somewhere there would be answers and—
Nick stamped on the brake again.
“Goddamn it!” he shouted, more out of fright than anger.
It was Lara.
She banged on the windscreen with her palms. “Let me in, please!”
Nick shook his head. He didn’t have time for this, nor did he owe the woman anything after she had left him alone to fend off her husband.
He brought the clutch up, ready to take off.
“Please,” she begged him.
Nick sighed. He flipped the toggle on the dashboard to disengage the locks. “Get in the back. Quickly!”
She nodded gratefully and made for the rear passenger door but, before she managed to open it, someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her back into the shadows. Nick heard her screams, but he could not see what was happening. He waited a few seconds, unsure how to proceed, before finally deciding that Lara was a lost cause and that he should just drive off.
But then the woman reappeared out of the shadows and leapt for the car. She yanked open the door and sprawled onto the back seat. She was bleeding badly, but it was impossible to tell from where.
“Go,” she spluttered at him, pulling the door closed behind her. “G-g-get the fuck out of here.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Nick gunned the engine and took off as quickly as the car could accelerate. He had to steer erratically to avoid knocking over his various wandering neighbours, including the disembowelled young boy, but he managed to make it to the end of the road without running into any further trouble. There was a war being waged in his neighbourhood and he was retreating. The screams filled the air behind him.
Steering the car onto the main road, leaving the chaotic nightmare behind him, Nick let loose a sigh of relief. It felt good to be on the road and moving fast.
I’m just dreading having to stop again.