The road. The street is lined with zombies at noon. It's like I'm running a marathon, and they are the folks who are lining the sides of the road to cheer me on and give me water, except that they are the sort of crowd that would eat you alive instead, which is not the sort of marathon that anyone would sign up for. I put off leaving for an hour or two until the zombie party breaks up.
The economics of this situation are a bit dodgy. I'm pretty sure that money doesn't matter anymore, but I can't be sure that it won't matter in perpetutiy. And I understand that the most important thing right now is to get to safety and remain alive, but I have to say that I'm tempted to look for an ATM to try and get out for a roll of 20's. Worst case scenario I set them on fire and lob them at a goup of oncoming zombies. Are zombies greedy for money? I guess not.
Outside, an oak tree is swaying in the breeze like it hasn't a care in the world. Trees are the worst. That's when I notice something strange out on the street. Amidst all the zombies walking around, bumping into mailboxes and generally looking like the shitshow they are, is what appears to be a person, crouching underneath a car. Is that really a person underneath a car or am I batshit crazy? Maybe it's just an oil slick. Maybe they are a zombie who decided to start fixing cars instead of being so one dimensional.
But I have to consider that maybe, just maybe, a real live person is lying underneath that car, hoping to escape or waiting to die.
