End of Death (manxman)

Fall of Civilization: Part 4 - Incubation

"I can't do that." Graham shook his head. He knew this car was his protection, his security against the world. He also knew, this was how he was going to get to Santa Fe.

"Graham, it's just a car." Milo pleaded.

"Milo!" Graham took a step closer to the man. "Sir, back away."

"Please," The man gulped still shaking; Graham didn't think he had it in him to shoot a boy. "Please, he is all I have left."

"Don't shoot my dad!" A younger voice pleaded from a few feet away.

"Tyler!" The man lowered his gun and ran to a sickly looking boy hiding behind a car. He grabbed the boy lifting him up. "Tyler, I told...." The man looked back at Graham who still held his gun out at the two.

"Graham, stop!" Milo jumped out of the car. "We can take them to a hospital. We can. Lower the gun."
Graham scowled at Milo then lowered his gun. Taking a long breath he looked at the two. "Where are you going?"

"The hospital." The man suggested squeezing his boy tight. His boy coughed into his arm and looked at Graham.

"That's where he came from." Graham pointed to the dead zombie in a hospital gown a tag still on his wrist

"The police station." The man suggested cradling his boy and hurrying to the side of the car.

"That's not safe." Graham walked back to the car. He watched the man try the locked back door. Graham tapped on the window, pointing to the duffle bag. Milo jumped in the passenger seat.

"They're not the army." Milo spat out as he grabbed the bag tucking it in between his feet.

"Then where are we supposed to go? Can you take us to another city." The man suggested.

"We came from another city." Graham pressed the unlock button and the man quickly jumped in the car pushing Wilco aside. Trevor coughed again.

"Maybe a fire station?" Milo suggested.

"Yes! Please. There is one a few miles away." The man shut the door and eyed as Graham got in and shut his door.

"Direct the way." Graham said and they drove a few blocks. It was a tense and quiet drive. They pulled to a stop in front of a dark fire station. The tan brick building looked empty on the outside but they didn't come here for nothing. Everyone, minus Wilco, hopped out of the car.

The street was empty but there were few infected wandering towards them. Graham and Milo looked at each other. Milo aimed his gun at a woman in jeans and what used to be a white blouse now black with dried blood.

"You got it?" Graham asked looking at Milo's shaking hand. Milo frowned and Graham knew he wasn't ready. He fired the gun taking the woman down. He couldn't think of them as people, not any more.

But the infected faces sure looked human, and their clothes told a story he wasn't ready to swallow. Graham fired at a man in flannel; he had the same shirt at home. Then a teenager about Milo's age walked towards him, arms stretched out as he approached.

"Graham," Milo whispered. Graham looked at Milo, it just hit him, he was panting heavy the effect of shooting other humans having a physical effect he couldn't manage.

"I got it." Graham refocused, "they're not alive, they're not alive," he whispered to himself. Bang. The teenager dropped with sinew splattering onto the pavement.