The Etherscope was linked to the van. A thought, and the vehicle's status appeared in his mind. A glance at the dashboard, and instructions for the buttons and levers materialized beside them.
Start. Accelerate. Weapon Systems. Ram.
Zephyr's driving skills were rudimentary, mostly theoretical. He'd taken one test drive, just for kicks. He'd meant to get his license, but driving school was expensive. A sedan was one thing, but a van…
Fortunately, the Etherscope provided more than just operational information. It offered real-time guidance and warnings. With its help, Zephyr, still slightly dizzy, maneuvered the van out of the parking area.
The world was shrouded in a gray haze, obscuring the road and the surrounding landscape. He squinted, fighting a lingering headache.
Just as he pulled onto the road, a dark shape lunged from the side, slamming against the driver's side door with a sickening thud.
Zephyr recoiled. A face, plastered against the window, hands clawing frantically at the glass and metal. Half the face was covered in blood, blood smeared across the mouth and teeth. He recognized the man. The worker who'd collapsed.
Seeing a living person transform into…that…sent a shiver down his spine. And this wasn't the slow, shuffling zombie of the movies. This creature was fast, strong. The force of its blows against the van was alarming. Its bloodshot eyes fixed on Zephyr, a guttural growl rising from its throat.
Drawn by the commotion, more figures emerged from the fog.
Zephyr snapped out of it and floored the accelerator. The creature was flung back as the van surged forward.
The scene on the road was even more horrifying. Screams. Moans. People running, stumbling, being chased down by…things.
As he accelerated, a man ran towards the van, his eyes wide with terror and hope. "Help!" But before he reached it, a figure in a suit leaped from behind a parked car, tackling him to the ground.
A scream. A spray of blood. The suited man looked up, his face twisted in a grotesque snarl, eyes blood red.
A dozen more of them swarmed the man on the ground, obscuring him from view. Only a hand, reaching out, remained visible for a few seconds. Then, silence. A spreading pool of blood.
It was happening everywhere. Zephyr had never seen anything like it. A human being, torn apart alive.
The suited zombie turned, spotted the van, and lunged.
Zephyr hit the gas, sending the creature flying. He weaved through traffic, past wrecked cars. Where the road was blocked, he simply rammed through, forcing a path.
Zombies swarmed the van, clawing at the sides. They were surprisingly strong, even the children, the elderly, the women. At times, the sheer number of them made the van shudder. He knocked a few down, felt the bumps beneath the wheels, and didn't look back. He couldn't.
"The Sunken Highway exit…" Lucy's words echoed in his mind. He had to get there. Not for the "safe island," but because the highway was the fastest route to Zenith City, to Willow.
He knew Willow hadn't turned. But the virus's initial onslaught…it was agonizing. And these creatures…he had to reach her. He'd made preparations, and he knew she was careful, resourceful. But she was his sister. His only family.
As he neared the highway entrance, the number of living increased. Cars jostled for position, creating a gridlock.
He honked. More cars surged forward from behind, cutting into any available space. His path was blocked.
A car squeezed past, the driver leaning out. "Idiot! Get that tank out of the way!"
He sped ahead. Horns blared behind him. "Are you crazy? Pull over!"
"Yeah! If you wanna die, don't take us with you!"
The cars, including the one that had cut him off, all bore the same corporate logo. A company convoy.
Zephyr's anger flared. Everyone was fighting for survival. Who did these people think they were? He was in line, same as everyone else!
He hit the gas, the van surging forward. Just as the car ahead tried to cut him off again, he heard a crunch of metal. The van squeezed past, forcing the smaller vehicle to the side.
The driver, stunned, then enraged, watched in disbelief as the van, like a battering ram, plowed through the jam. The line-jumpers were squeezed together, their escape route blocked.