The Immune

8. When you realise you're alone

I stood hesitantly in the doorway, holding roger, my teddy bear, to my chest. I had one of the emergency bags, that dad had made up. I surveyed the area, examining the destruction.
Half the wooden house was charred, its roof caved in. Bodies had littered the hallway, dried blood marring the walls.
Outside wasn't much better. Blackened corpses lay on the burnt ground. The trees to the left had been burnt to a crisp. But all was still. I clutched a big gun and my small hand. It was time.
I had waited in the closet. Long after the bullets had stopped. Long after the last sound of movement was heard. The sun was just rising, its brilliant light just touching the top of the trees.
I left the open doorway, cautiously moving down the steps of the porch. Any flicker of movement, any twitch of a corpse and I'd be dead.
The soldiers wouldn't have cared about the garage. After all, it was people they were after. It was partially hidden, the door covered in a shrub. Pushing it aside I unlatched the door as quietly as I could and entered. Breathing deeply I tried to slow my heart.
Dad's car sat in the middle of the room, under a sheet.

Pulling the material off I got into the front seat. The keys were resting on the dash, ready to go. But my legs were too short, and I could barely see over the steering wheel. I was tall for a twelve year old, but not that tall. Even if I could turn the car on and get it driving, I would probably only crash further up the road, with the sound drawing any zombies to me.
I would be stuck here.
They wouldn't come looking for me, they think I'm dead, even my family. An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness overcame me. I am all alone.
Something caught my eye, something bright and shiny under another sheet. Hopping down from the cab, I uncovered the object, revealing a dirt bike.
I felt my spirit lift a little, a smile creeping onto my face. My legs could reach the pedals. I could get out of here.
I searched for the keys, finding them in the side bag on the bike. I didn't know how to check how much fuel was left, let alone refuel it. The round cap which may have been the petrol tank twisted open easily, the smell of gasoline strong. Hopefully it would be enough to get me out of here.
I knew the basics of turning on the ignition, acceleration and breaking, all I had needed was the right vehicle.
I wheeled the heavy bike out onto the silent road. A helmet was on my head, and roger was strapped to my back. This needed to work.
I turned the keys in the ignition. The engine roared, then spluttered and died.
They would've heard that. Turning back to look at the house, all was silent.
Not wasting anytime I twisted the keys again. The engine roared strongly to life. It made a popping noise a few times before fluttering off.
My panic was growing.
I turned back to look at the house. There were zombies moving in from the woods. Their footsteps quick, they had spotted me.

My hands shook as I tried the ignition one final time, knowing it would be my last.
The engine roared, wheezing to life, and held. I was filled with relief, this could be okay.
Twisting the accelerator the bike jolted forward, picking up speed. A look behind me revealed the running zombies falling behind.
The motor roared in my ears.
The sound may alert the zombies, but I'd be out of here long before they could catch up.
The steering was uncomfortable, and it made my hands ache already. But I felt free, and I felt hopeful. I could find my brothers and sister, and I could save them.