Outbreak
Seeing an opportunity, Molly rushed forward and grabbed a steak night from the kitchen counter, her palms sweating around the cool handle. Sam and Paisley stood rooted in place, their eyes darting between Noah and the crazed intruder.
Mr. Antonelli's gaze shifted to Molly, and a sinister smirk twisted his lips. He advanced on her with a low growl, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Molly's maternal instincts kicked in, and with a fierce battle cry, she charged towards him, the knife extended before her.
As Molly plunged into the fray, the radio crackled to life amidst the noise, spewing urgent warnings of a city-wide state of emergency. "Attention, citizens of Silverhurst," the announcer's voice filled the apartment, cold and urgent. "The D.E.R.T, Dagland Emergency Response Team has ordered everyone to evacuate to the nearest designated government safe zone immediately. Stay calm. Follow the instructions of your local authorities," the radio blared.
Noah, struggling to stand, barked, "Mom! Get back!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Molly roared back, the knife in her grip shining threateningly. Mr. Antonelli lunged again, his swing crooked and wild. Noah's eyes widened as Mr. Antonelli lunged again, his swing deadly and unstable. Molly, driven by the need to protect, saw an opening. With a guttural shout, she plunged the knife into Mr. Antonelli's left shoulder. The blade sank deep, and Mr. Antonelli staggered, his face contorted in pain and confusion.
The radio continued its broadcast, listing off safe zones amidst the chaos. "Designated safe zones include Ashwood Primary School, Oceanside Primary School, Fox Creek Secondary School, the Silverhurst Public Library, Clearbrook Community Center, and the downtown Civic Center. Repeat, head to the nearest safe zone immediately."
Mr. Antonelli's grip on the bat weakened after Molly's strike, and with a pained grunt, he let it clatter to the floor. Seizing the opportunity, Molly scooped up the bat, her knuckles white as she held it.
"You messed with the wrong mother!" she shouted, brandishing the bat with a renewed sense of purpose. Mr. Antonelli staggered, his eyes wild and unfocused. Molly swung the bat with all her strength, connecting it cleanly with Mr. Antonelli's head. The impact echoed loudly in the room, a sickening reminder of their grim reality. He crumpled to the floor, finally losing consciousness.
Molly's chest heaved as she stood over his motionless form, the bat hanging limply at her side. For a moment, the room was eerily silent except for the distant sounds of chaos seeping through the walls.
Liam broke the hush, rushing to his mother. "Mum! Are you okay?"
Molly's legs buckled, adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. She dropped the bat and fell to her knees. "I'm... fine," she panted.
Sam and Paisley stood frozen, their breath caught in their throats.
"We need to move," Molly said, her voice trembling yet commanding. "Liam, get the first aid kit."
Liam nodded, snapping out of his stupor. He rifled through the kitchen drawer and pulled out the kit, his hands shaking as he handed it to his mother.
Sam's eyes were wide, darting between the unconscious Mr. Antonelli and the bat in Molly's hands. "Is he...?"
"Unconscious. But we can't stay here," Molly answered, taking a compression bandage from the first aid kit and wrapping it around Noah's injured knee. Her movements were steady, but her face was pale.
Molly, her face flushed and eyes wide with urgency, glanced between Liam, Sam, and Paisley. "We need to get to a safe zone," she said, her voice trembling but determined. "Noah, we'll see if someone at the safe zone can look at your knee."
Noah grimaced, trying to stand. "I can make it. Just need to get out of here."
Molly's eyes shifted to the radio. "Your school is closest. We can head there."
Paisley nodded quickly, clutching her blue Fox Creek sweater to her chest. "Let's go then. The streets are getting worse by the minute."
Noah attempted to stand with Molly's help, but winced sharply, his face contorting with pain. "Don't have much choice, do we?" he muttered under his breath.
Molly barked, "Everyone grab what you need quickly!" She pushed a backpack toward Liam, who began stuffing it with essentials—water bottles, a flashlight, and the first aid kit. Sam's eyes flickered with worry as he glanced from Liam to Molly.
"We can't just leave Mr. Antonelli here," Paisley whispered, her voice barely audible.
"We don't have a choice," Molly said firmly, her eyes darting to the lifeless form of their neighbor. "This isn't the time to debate. We need to survive."
Noah, leaning against the wall for support, gritted his teeth and managed to stand. "I'll be fine. Let's get out of here before more of them show up."
Liam's hands moved frantically as he zipped up the backpack, his heart thudding against his ribs. "Ready," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them.
Sam, his gaze meeting Liam's, nodded. "Let's go."
They poured out of the apartment, Noah hobbling along with Molly supporting him. The hallway, once an unremarkable stretch of carpet, now felt like a gauntlet of potential threats. The sounds of distant screams and breaking glass heightened their sense of urgency.
As they reached the stairwell, noises from below made them hesitate. Sam leaned over the railing, his eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
"We'll have to take the stairs," Molly whispered, trying to keep her voice calm. "The elevators won't work with the power out."
"I'll lead," Liam said, his voice more confident than he felt. He clutched his flashlight tightly as he stepped onto the stairwell.
Paisley followed closely behind, her knuckles white around the straps of her backpack. Sam, glancing over his shoulder constantly, walked next, with Molly and Noah bringing up the rear.
Their footsteps echoed as they descended, each step a symphony of breaths held and hearts pounding. They reached the second-floor landing and paused, hearing a struggle above them—a neighbor's desperate cries mingling with the sounds of shuffling feet and shattering objects.
"Keep moving," Molly urged, her voice trembling.
They descended further, each flight of stairs a nerve-wracking gamble. When they finally burst onto the ground floor, the building's lobby greeted them with a jarring mix of shattered glass and overturned furniture.
"Stick together," Liam whispered, his grip tightening around his backpack's straps. They pressed forward, every creak of the floorboards and rustle of fabric amplifying the tension.
Outside, Silverhurst's familiar streets had morphed into a nightmarish landscape. Abandoned cars littered the road, their doors swung wide as if the city itself had taken a deep breath and screamed. Panicked citizens dashed madly, some clutching children to their chests, others grasping for any semblance of safety. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning rubber and the muffled wails of distant sirens.
"Stick close," Liam instructed, his voice barely above a whisper, almost swallowed by the cacophony around them. He darted forward, Sam and Paisley at his heels, while Noah and Molly brought up the rear, moving as quickly as Noah's injured leg would allow.
"Fox Creek isn't far," Molly encouraged, though her eyes—darting left and right—betrayed her fear.
A man barreled into them, wild-eyed and feral. His clothes hung in tatters, reeking of sweat and fear. He stumbled, his foot catching on an overturned bicycle, before veering off into the crowds.
Suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek pierced through the chaos, echoing off the buildings. A group of infected, their movements jerky and animalistic, surged out from a side alley.
"Run!" Liam shouted, his voice breaking.
They bolted, each heartbeat hammering like a drum. Molly tried to keep up, helping Noah who limped painfully. But the distance between their group and the infected shortened with horrifying speed. One of the manic figures lunged for Sam, who twisted away just in time.
"Mum!" Liam screamed as he realized the infected were converging on Molly and Noah.
Sam grabbed Liam's arm, yanking him forward. "We have to keep moving!"
The infected swarmed like a tidal wave, separating Noah and Molly from the others. In the scuffle, Molly was shoved to the ground, hands scraping raw against the asphalt as she clutched at Noah.
"I got you, mum!" Noah's voice was almost drowned in the choking din.
With a desperate, anguished look, Molly screamed, "Go! Get to the school! We'll find you!"
It took every ounce of strength for Liam not to turn back as his brother and mother were absorbed in the panicked crowd.
Caught in the current of fleeing bodies and insane infected, Liam, Sam, and Paisley were pushed onward, forced to navigate the maze of burning cars and abandoned wreckage that had once been their neighborhood.
"This way!" Sam barked, pulling the group into a tight alleyway. They continued running, ignoring the stitches in their sides as they emerged onto another street full of panicked people.
"Are they going to be okay?" Paisley panted, her face pale and tear-streaked.
"They have to be," Liam said, though his voice wavered. "We just need to keep moving."
Sam, clutching a streetlight to catch his breath, glanced around. "This way—Fox Creek is only a mile away. We can make it."
They pushed forward, their path punctuated by the omnipresent echoes of Silverhurst's urban collapse. Liam's thoughts were a tumble of worry and guilt, focused on reaching safety but anchored by the grim reality that they'd left his Mum and Noah behind.
As they scrambled through the chaotic streets, it became clear that reaching Fox Creek was far from simple. The panicked crowds grew denser, a writhing mass pushing and shoving in a desperate bid for survival. Liam, Sam, and Paisley found themselves struggling amongst the current of scared, frantic people.
"Keep moving!" Liam shouted above the din, his voice cracking. But the press of bodies was relentless, a tide threatening to crush them.
Paisley clung to Sam's arm, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps. "We're going to get trampled at this rate!"
Sam glanced around, his eyes scanning for any sign of sanctuary. He spotted the hulking, shadowy outline of the old, disused library looming nearby, its facade broken and intimidating. "There! The library!" he pointed. "We can hide out there and regroup."
They fought their way to the edge of the crowd, slipping through gaps and ducking under flailing arms. The journey seemed to take an eternity, every second a struggle for precious space and air. Finally, they broke free and sprinted to the library, hearts pounding, lungs burning.
Liam pushed the heavy doors open, their hinges creaking with protest. The trio stumbled inside, their breaths ragged and bodies trembling. The musty air hit them like a wall, and the soft echo of their footsteps bounced off the towering shelves. Dust particles danced in the beams of light filtering through the grimy windows.
"Shut the door," Sam urged, his voice hoarse. He and Liam slammed it closed, the weighty thud resonating through the abandoned library.
Paisley leaned against a wall, sliding to the floor, her face damp with sweat and fear. "What now?"
Liam paced, running a hand through his wild blond hair. "We...we need a plan. Figure out our next move." His voice was steadier than he felt.
Sam looked around, eyes narrowing in search of anything useful. "Let's find a safe spot. In case they get in."
The three of them moved deeper into the library, navigating through the labyrinth of shelves. Moldy books lay scattered across the floor, looking sad and forgotten. The place smelled of aged paper and neglect—an odd sanctuary amid the chaos outside.
"Over there," Liam nodded towards a sturdy-looking door marked 'Staff Room.'
They pushed through, finding themselves in a small break room. The walls were lined with old lockers and mismatched furniture. Liam quickly checked the locks on the windows, ensuring they were secure.
They huddled together in the dimly lit room, the unknown pressing in on all sides. Sam glanced at Liam. "You okay? I mean...about your mum and Noah—"
"We'll find help and come back for them," Liam interrupted quickly, his voice tight.
Paisley, hugging her knees to her chest, looked up. "What if... what if we can't get to Fox Creek?"
Liam's shoulders sagged. "We have to believe they'll manage. My mum's strong, and Noah..." He trailed off, his mind filled with the image of Noah's injured leg and their narrow escape.
Sam stood, his green eyes fiery with determination. "We'll make it to Fox Creek. We can't start doubting ourselves, we have to think positively."
"Yeah," Liam agreed, though doubt still gnawed at him. "We should rest a bit and then make a break for it."
As they settled into an uneasy silence, huddled in the crumbling break room, a cacophony of noises seeped in from outside: distant screams, blaring sirens, and occasional crashes that sent shivers down their spines. Every sound seemed magnified, every creak and groan of the building a potential threat.
Paisley broke the silence. "Do you think it's only happening here? Or..."
Sam's jaw tensed. "It's bad here, but that doesn't mean it's like this everywhere. Let's not worry yet. We'll figure it out, bit by bit."
Liam's mind drifted to the rooftop conversations with Sam, the way they'd looked at the city stretching out beneath them, unaware that their lives as they knew it was about to be over. And now, with Silverhurst unraveling before their eyes, Liam's friendship with Sam and Paisley felt like the only solid thing in the world crumbling around them.
The hours crawled by. At intervals, they peered through the grimy windows to gauge the outside scene, noting the ebb and flow of frenzied activity. Some semblance of calm returned, a muted lull in the ferocity, though the tension remained palpable.
Morning arrived like a reluctant whisper, struggling to filter through the library's dirt-caked windows. Liam stirred first, the events of the previous night flashing through his mind like a cruel replay. He glanced at his friends, huddled together for warmth. Sam's face was relaxed in sleep, soft lines of anxiety temporarily smoothed away. Paisley's head rested against his shoulder, her breath shallow but steady.
"Hey," Liam whispered, nudging Sam gently. "We've got to move."
Sam blinked awake, his eyes narrowing in confusion before the memories hit him like a freight train. "Right. Fox Creek." He gently prodded Paisley.
She yawned and stretched, blinking groggily. "Are we going now?"
"Yeah," Liam replied, his tone laced with urgency. "The streets might be clearer. We need to get to the school before things get worse."
Re-gathering their belongings, they quietly exited the library, stepping into a world transformed. The previous night's events had left the streets eerily deserted. Bodies lay scattered, some motionless, others twitching with residual spasms of the infection. The air reeked of decay, assaulting their senses as they navigated the aftermath of pandemonium.
Sam's eyes scanned the surroundings, his body tense. "Let's stick close and move fast. Ready?"
Liam nodded. "Ready." He set the pace, leading the group through the littered streets with determined strides.
Paisley clutched her backpack straps tightly. "Do you think anyone else from the building made it?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Sam glanced back, a tight-lipped grim expression on his face. "We can only hope."
As they made their way toward Fox Creek, the silence was punctuated by the occasional groan or distant shout, reminding them that danger still lurked nearby. Liam pushed forward, every step driven by the need to reunite with his mother and brother, hoping they had found safety.
"Look," Liam pointed to a sign up ahead. "Fox Creek—just a few more blocks."
The closer they got, the thicker the feeling of unease grew. They passed rows of shuttered shops, their windows smashed in, and overturned cars, some still smoldering. The normal routines of Silverhurst were a distant memory, replaced by an almost post-apocalyptic landscape.
As they neared the school, a low moan drew their attention. They turned to see an injured man staggering towards them, his face filled with fear. Liam's heart pounded in his chest.
Liam's eyes locked on the man, and instinctively, he held out an arm to stop Sam and Paisley from moving forward. "Are you okay?" Liam called out, cautiously.
The man struggled to focus, clutching a blood-stained bandage wrapped haphazardly around his forearm. "Don't… don't go to Fox Creek," he rasped, each word a battle. His eyes darted around as if expecting an attack at any moment.
"What happened?" Sam asked, moving a step closer, his eyes narrowing in concern.
"The school...it's not safe anymore," the man wheezed. His chest heaved with labored breaths, sweat glistening on his pallid skin. "The infected...they broke through the defenses. It was a nightmare."
Liam's heart dropped like a stone. "No...Mum and Noah..."
The man's voice grew more labored with each word. "The D.E.R.T evacuated everyone from the school... moved us to a new safe zone."
Liam's eyes widened. "Do you know where they took them?"
The man nodded weakly, clutching his chest. "The new safe zone..." he wheezed, leaning heavily against a lamppost. "It's... it's..."
Liam rushed to the man's side, gripping his shoulders, eyes frantic. "Please, where did they go? My family could be there!"
The man gasped, his breathing ragged. He tried to speak, but his voice came out in faint, broken whispers. "They... moved to...
His sentence trailed off into a pained groan as his knees buckled beneath him. Sam knelt beside him, trying to keep him conscious. "Stay with us, man."
The man's eyes rolled, sweat streaming down his face as he fought to form words. "The... The... h..." His wheezing grew more labored, each breath costing him dearly.
His head fell lifelessly against his chest, the final word hanging in the bleak morning air. Liam's heart pounded in a rhythm of panic and desperation. Sam gently patted the man's shoulder, sorrow and frustration etched on his face. "Rest in peace buddy," he muttered, his voice heavy with defeat.
"What do we do now?" Paisley asked, looking between the two boys, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
Liam stood up, pacing in restless circles. His mind whirled, trying to piece together the fragments of information. "The D.E.R.T. evacuated everyone from the school and we know there's a new safe zone somewhere."
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting from the man to the surrounding mess. "We have to keep moving. Staying here will only get us trapped. Sam looked up from the lifeless figure, brows furrowed. "He was saying something, beginning with an 'H.' Could it be...?"
"Hospital," Paisley finished, her eyes widening. "Do you think they moved everyone there?"
"It's possible," Sam replied, his mind racing to connect the dots. "The old hospital's got a lot more space and might still have power generators. It's our best bet, anyway."
Liam stopped pacing and looked Sam in the eye. "But how are we going to get there? The hospital is at least five miles away."
Sam glanced down at the pavement and shrugged. "We walk. There's no other option."
Paisley's face blanched, and she tightened her grip on her backpack. "Five miles through all this?" She shot a quick look at the desolate street. "Can we even make it?"
Paisley took a deep breath, her eyes locking on the line of abandoned cars. "Wait," she said, her voice gaining a note of hope. "What if... what if someone left their keys behind? We could find a car and drive to the hospital."
Liam's eyes widened, a spark of urgency flashing through them. "It's worth a shot. We could cover the distance much faster and avoid the infected."
Sam nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Let's split up and check the cars. Quickly. We need to find something before more of them show up."
The three dispersed, each heading to a different vehicle. Liam yanked the door handle of a nearby sedan, finding it locked. He cursed under his breath and moved to the next car. Sam and Paisley did the same, moving with determined haste.
After a few failed attempts, Paisley's voice cut through the tense silence. "Over here! I found one that's open!"
Liam and Sam dashed over to find Paisley sitting in the driver's seat of a beat-up white minivan, its door wide open. She held up a set of keys triumphantly, a cautious smile tugging at her lips.
"Nice work, Paisley!" Liam praised, sliding into the passenger seat while Sam clambered into the back. Glancing at the ignition, he added, "Let's hope it starts."
Paisley took a deep breath and turned the key. The engine sputtered for a moment before roaring to life. The three of them exchanged relieved glances.
Sam leaned forward from the back seat, eyes wide. "Paisley, do you know how to drive?"
She answered with a slight smirk, gripping the steering wheel firmly. "One of my moms is a car mechanic. She taught me how to drive when I was twelve. We're good."
Paisley grasped the steering wheel with a confidence that defied her years. She adjusted the rearview mirror, her eyes hardening with determination.
"Buckle up," Paisley said, her voice tinged with an edge of excitement. As they clicked their seat belts into place, she pressed down on the accelerator, easing the minivan onto the desolate road. The eerie silence hung heavy around them, broken only by the hum of the engine.
"Keep an eye out," Liam warned, peering through the windshield. "We don't know what might be out there."
Paisley navigated the streets with perfect precision, avoiding debris and weaving through abandoned vehicles. Sam's eyes scanned the horizon as the minivan sped past eerie scenes—the ghostly remains of a once-bustling city now falling silent under the weight of madness.