Piper waited until the group of the dead passed by her window. She had pulled a blanket over herself so that the dead wouldn’t be able to see her. As long as they couldn’t see you, smell you, or hear you they would leave you be. They couldn’t smell her through the car doors and raised window, so as long as she covered up and stayed quiet, she would be home free. It hadn’t been long since the dead rose up, but it had been long enough for Piper to figure out what would save her. She was losing track of time, but she thought that maybe it had been two months or so. 

Once the group passed, she tossed away the blanket and began to drive yet again. She was keeping an eye out for a filling station that still had gas left, but she was starting to believe that was just a pipe dream. Most places had sold out of gas within the first week of the panic. The rest of the places that had some stowed away had been cleared out by now. Two months was a long time to clear out gas stores.

Piper had attempted to siphon gas from the gas tanks of cars stopped on the road, but all of them had been dry, either used up or already siphoned by travelers that came before her. Even though she had doubts about the car that she had just stopped at, she still picked up her hose, handpump, and gas can. Even a quarter of a tank would get her to where she needed to go. 

She had heard the radio broadcasts of a safe zone nearby. A place with food, water, safety, and people. She would be able to have food every day and sleep every night. Those things had been scarce while she was all alone out in the world.

Piper pumped what gas had been in the tanks of the nearby cars and poured it into her own. A quarter of a tank. Perfect. 

A cacophonous chorus of screams ripped into the air. Piper tossed the can into her car and threw herself into the driver’s seat before slamming the door shut and jamming her foot on the gas pedal. As she swerved her way through the wrecks that lined the road, she passed a childcare center, the bus out front had blood smeared windows and the door to the building had been ripped off its hinges. The front gate hung open. Piper shuddered. The screams would be the tiny, once living humans that were babysat there. She couldn’t help but wondering if one of the parents or a worker had brought the plague onto them, or if one of the kids had the virus and got all of the other kids sick.

She glanced in her rearview mirror, watching the tiny horrors get smaller as she kept on.

Then, with the sound of ripping metal and jiggling glass, Piper was thrown forward. Her chest hit the steering wheel and the force of the airbag hitting her square in the face threw her back violently.

When Piper woke up, it was to screaming, grabbing hands, and gnashing teeth. Just feet away from the daycare where these tiny monsters once played happily in the sunshine, a log truck had stopped. Piper hit it in her rush to get away from the group, the logs ripping her car to pieces and trapping her legs underneath the wood and dash. In the end, her screams joined together with the screams of the former children and her dreams of safety were gone.