Ciroz had been running since he woke up, his feet pounding against the grass as if it would somehow help him get faster. There were people everywhere, screaming and crying for help while others were trying to catch the dead that were running towards them. The zombie was running after him so fast it almost felt like an actual threat. His body ached and stung, and he didn't dare slow down. He kept looking behind himself for any signs that they were gaining on him. If they caught him he knew he'd be in trouble, his parents didn't have much money, what little they did have being spent on food and medicine to help out everyone living there. It wasn't anything big, but every day Ciroz got up with the sun, brushed teeth, changed clothes and made breakfast. 

His mother had told him that he could do all these things, because he's growing into a fine young man. She had wanted to see her son, but she couldn't, she was too far away from where Ciroz lived. So when he saw her on television one day talking about how proud she was and saying that she's happy Ciroz can be a grownup and take care of others who need help, he decided not to wait anymore. When the zombies started moving towards him, he just kept on going. It was his job, after all, and no matter what anyone said or how scared they were, zombies were never a threat until they came closer than before.

After walking through two streets, Ciroz finally stopped and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair to keep his fringe from getting in his eyes. After he calmed down, he looked around, making sure there was nothing in front of him that might threaten him. As usual, there weren't any infected in sight which only encouraged him further to continue. The zombie horde was still chasing him but slowly but surely. He was able to stay ahead of it though, thanks to his training and his own stamina.

He took a turn, hoping to find another path that would lead him home without running into more zombies. To Ciroz’s surprise, he found it. There were some houses left standing and the ground was littered with bodies that were probably killed by the zombies before they arrived. They seemed like it was the middle of the night or early morning and Ciroz assumed most people inside those houses were already asleep or had moved out to escape the danger. But he didn't want to risk being trapped somewhere alone and vulnerable. Especially not now. There's always the chance he' going to run into another horde if he goes back to the house right now. Not only that, he could be infected, which would mean death if they ever catch him again.

So, he made a decision. Ciroz turned the corner to go back to the house, but he found that he wasn't the only person in the street. The sound of sirens was getting closer and closer until he could clearly make out the sounds of gunshots and screams. He watched as people tried desperately to fight off hordes of zombies, but in vain. Ciroz bit his lip and averted his gaze from the battle and went to hide in one of the houses that looked like it was still standing, hopefully safe from the incoming hoard.

The next thing he noticed was that he had managed to move across the street without getting hurt, thank god, but he also realized that this could've easily gone wrong. Ciroz was hiding behind one of the houses that were mostly untouched and looked fairly sturdy, at least from the outside. Once he heard the sirens approaching, he peeked from behind the wall, waiting for the zombies to come. One by one, they passed by. At first there were several of them and then there were none. When he realized it was over he sighed in relief, relieved to have escaped that alive.