Overnight the world has taken a drastic turn for the worse. A
virus is spreading and the dead are rising. As the world goes to
hell, five teenagers, each gifted with special abilities, try to
survive. But will their gift give them the edge they need? And
which is worse: the dead or the living?
As he sat there lost, the sound of a gunshot seemed to whisper in his ear. He
perked up and looked at the Humvee in front only to see John was leaning back
casually away from the gun. Was he hearing things? Another shot sounded, only
slightly louder. Now he knew it wasn’t just his imagination.
“Did you guys hear that?” Bryan asked the other two in the cab.
“Keep it down, kid,” Jon said, not taking his eyes off the road.
“It was a gunshot,” Bryan said.
“So? There are a lot of gunshots nowadays so quiet down.”
“But it could be other survivors,” he protested.
“What do you mean, so what?” How could he just brush off the possibility that
there might be a few more people alive out there?
“Listen, kid,” Jon snapped. “You can’t save everybody, and I’m not risking my life
for someone who might shoot me as soon as I turn my back—”
Bryan jumped out of his seat, and Jon went silent at the sudden outburst that
came from Pam, who was glaring at the two of them.
“Keep it down, you two. I can’t hear the other car!”
“But there are survivors out there!”
Gunshots rang out, as if to confirm Bryan’s protest. This time the shots were
louder and more continuous.
“Are you guys hearing this?” Trey’s voice crackled over the radio.
Pam lifted the radio to her mouth, squeezing the button to talk. “We hear
something, but we’re not sure what it is.”
Bryan looked at her, stunned at how could she lie. She knew it was gunshots. It
was as clear as day.
“It sounded like gunshots,” the other line replied.
“Even if it is, by the time we get there it might be over.”
“There’s survivors.” Bryan leaned over and shouted into the radio.
“Stop that!” Jon growled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him off as Pam pushed.
“We have to help them!” Bryan yelled at the man.
“Shut up, kid!” Jon yelled back.
“The kid’s right.” Owen’s voice was quiet.
“God Dammit!” Pam cursed.
“Fuck!” Jon growled, eyeing Bryan menacingly.
“Helping them means less of the dead to fight later.”
“Helping them is suicide!” Pam yelled into the radio.
“It’ll be hard to get to them.” Trey’s voice was coming through over the radio.
“They’re a lot of dead around us, and they will only get thicker the deeper into the
city we go.”
“Zac, can you make a vacuum around us so they don’t get through?” Owen asked.
“He said sure,” Trey answered.
“Protect the Humvee. When we stop, Bryan, you teleport Jon and Pam onto the
nearest roof and come back for me. Then you get the crew in the Humvee. Zac,
you’re going to be the last. Everyone got it?”
Trey was first to respond. “Got it.”
Jon gave Bryan one last menacing stare then nodded at Pam, who rolled her eyes
before answering. “Got it.”
“Okay, take a few seconds to grab your gear and on my count we go.” Owen’s
voice cackled over the radio.
Everyone in the cab shuffled around quickly, grabbing whatever they thought they
would need. Jon grabbed his machine gun and laid it across his lap. Once it was
there, he patted all around his body feeling to see if everything he needed was
accounted for. Pam rocked back and forth slowly. It reminded Bryan of something
someone might do before a big game.
In the Humvee out front, Bryan saw John and Zac switch again. The seconds
seemed to stretch as they waited to hear Owen’s voice come over the radio.
The gunshots became louder and more frequent as the seconds wore on, and the
cab became tenser.
“Okay, everybody ready?” Owen asked, breaking the silence.
“Ready,” both parties confirmed over the radio.
Bryan grabbed Jon and Pam’s shoulders.
He leaned forward to scan the tops of the building for a drop off point.
|How the World Ends
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Fiction-Suspense, Post apocalyptic
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