Rise: An Apocalypse Story

chapter three

"You think the others made it?" I ask, sitting down at the small table in the van.

Dwight nods, "They left before us."

"Where are we headed?" George asks Stan, sitting beside his wife and son on the couch.

"I'm followin' them," he replies, taking a sharp left tin onto an abandoned dirt road.

I sigh, leaning back on the chair and closing my eyes. Something always goes wrong.

----

Two hours have passed of endless riding. Dwight and I found a deck of cards and are playing Black Jack while George, Kathy, and Cade are fast asleep. We are now in Nashville, swerving around abandoned cars and quickly running out of gas.

Suddenly, someone runs right in front of the van. Stan swerved out of the way and crashed into a building. We all shoot forward out of our seats. Kathy screams and Cade cries out. I get back on my feet, looking to where the person was. There were three of them, all coming straight towards us. I help Dwight up off the ground. His arm was crushed by a heavy painting that fell off the wall and he held it close to him, wincing in pain.

We all pile out of the van. Stan, George, and I point our rifles at them while Dwight holds a knife in his good arm and Kathy and Cade stand behind us. A while ago we had decided to split up the two vans. We headed towards gas while they were goin' to find a camp and tell us where to head through our walkie's.

If this goes south, they'll never know where we are.