“You okay,” Allison said. Her voice shattered the peaceful silence that until she spoke, I had not realized I’d been enjoying.

“I am just trying to get my hands around all of this. The world is no more. I mean, I always thought we’d have a big war. Nuclear or something. That would change life as we knew it, you know. There’d be warnings. Irate third world countries threatening attacks. We’d suspect it was coming. But this? No one could have seen this coming. Or, no one outside of maybe the CDC. It’s just, it’s hard to accept it. There ain’t no other choice though. This is life now.” I sailed my hand from one end of the Lexus windshield to the other. “This is what we are stuck with.”

She put her hand on mine. Squeezed. “We’re going to get through all of this. Find somewhere safe. Find somewhere to live on some isolated island, and just forget about the world.”

The pipe dream sounded wonderful, I was afraid to admit that even to myself. I knew I was smiling though. Felt the muscles I hadn’t used in a few days stretch. “I just want to get my kids, Alley. Me, them, and you. It’s all I want.”

She leaned over, rested her head onto my shoulder. “I want that, too.”

It’s weird what we wanted. Before this, I wanted my kids for longer than a weekend. I wanted to see them on Halloween in their costumes. I wanted to beat the fuck out of my ex-wife -- well, I did that. Now . . . now it was all different. I wanted survival, and supplies, and a safe haven to sneak off and hide behind. And I did want Allison with me. By my side. I did realize that.

“I need you,” I said.

She lifted her head, stared at me. I took my eyes off the road. There was an actual tear on her cheek. Not a rolling raindrop that dripped from her hair onto her face. “You need me? You really need me?”

And then we crashed.

Through it all, as it unfolded in that cinematic way of slow-motion, the horn blared -- long, loud, constant, a Brrrrrrraaaaaaaaa that reverberated loose inside my skull.

I thought Allison had a seat belt on. She didn’t. Her body flew forward. Her head smashed into the windshield. It didn’t break. It shattered.

Brrrrrrraaaaaaaaa!

That was all I saw, or remembered as my head slammed into the steering wheel. The seat belt snapped me back against the seat. I felt the burn of the material against my neck and chest. And then, and then the fucking airbag ballooned into my face. Fucking Donald. I could blame Lexus, but I don’t. I blame him, my ex’s husband.

At least my nose didn’t get broken by the bag.

Brrrrrrraaaaaaaaa!

What was I doing?

Sitting in the car. Thinking about the air bag.

My door was pulled open. “Chase?”

Josh looked panicked. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t feel anything. “We hit that car,” I said.

Josh moved away, went to the front of the car. The hood was busted into a triangle. He raised it.

Brrrrrrraaaaaaaaa!

The black Malibu was in the middle of the intersection. We t-boned the shit out of it.

The horn stopped. I think it did. My head still heard it. Wasn’t sure if the sound was actually being picked up from my ears though.

“We have to get you out of this,” Josh said.

“Where’s Allison?”

“Dave’s helping her to the BMW.” Josh reached in. “Can you undue your seat belt?”

I nodded. My hands fumbled for the release. “It’s stuck.”

Josh fell back, out of the car.

A zombie had him by the shoulders. It had been a woman once. She wore jeans and a blue blouse. Could have been a teenager. Might have been a woman in her forties. Her face was so decayed, I couldn’t tell. “Josh,” I said. “Joshua!”

I struggled with the belt, pressing, and pulling. I kept my eyes on Josh, though. He spun on the woman, breaking her hold on his shoulders. He delivered a solid right cross, and then another. She staggered sideways from the blows.

Dave came out of nowhere. Dropped to the pavement and swept the leg. The zombie went down hard. Josh pulled his hand shovels and pummeled the face and head of the zombie until it stopped crying out in that sickening moan and all was silent.

“Nice,” I said.

“He’s stuck,” Josh told Dave. “The seat belt.”

“We got more coming. Sound of the crash called ‘em, I’m guessing. That horn.”

“We need to get Chase out of the car,” Josh said.

“Never seen so many.” Dave spun slowly around in a circle. I just watched him. Josh was across my lap. He tugged on the seat belt.

“Dave. I need help,” Josh said.

“We gotta move, Josh. We gotta get out of here.”

Dave was crisp in my line of vision. Clear. Behind and all around him was fuzzy. Out of focus. If those were zombies, those fuzzy images staggering forward, then we were in trouble.

I grabbed Josh by the arm. “Get Allison out of here. She knows where I live. Go save my kids. Okay? Go save my kids.”

“We are getting you out, buddy. Dave!”

Dave pulled Josh out of the car. He grabbed onto the seat belt, set his feet onto the door frame, so that he was standing on and inside the car, and yanked.

His face went red. He didn’t look like he was breathing. He didn’t grunt. Or groan. Or yell. The pretensioner gave just after the latch exploded out of the latch plate. I was free. And floating. Dave hoisted me out of the car and over his shoulder in a single swoop. “Drive the car, Josh,” Dave said.

“That was close. That was close,” Allison said.

“You okay?” Dave dropped me into the back seat next to my girlfriend. “Are you all right?”

“My head hurts.” Blood wasn’t pouring out of the cut across her forehead, but she was bleeding. I reached for her. Lowered her head into my lap. I combed my fingers through her hair.

“Josh,” Dave said. “Drive.”

Josh threw up an arm over Dave’s seat, checked behind us as he backed away from the totaled Lexus and Malibu. He dropped it into drive and side-swiped two zombies as we continued on south toward my apartment. “We need to get back over to Mt. Read?”

“Might be easiest,” I said. “I live off Stone, at the Ridge. Behind that Rite Aid.”

“I know the complex.”

He maneuvered the BMW onto the sidewalk. The street packed with disabled vehicles, bodies and zombies made it impossible to navigate safely.

“I hate to say this,” Josh said.

“Then maybe now isn’t the time,” I said.

“Things are bad.”

“You hate to say that? That ‘things are bad’? Sorry I’d interjected. Say away,” I said.

“No. I mean bad. Like . . . Jason was the last living person we’ve seen in a while. You guys and Jason. That’s three other people,” he said.

“Most people were vaccinated,” I said. “They pushed that shot at every grocery store and doctor’s office. I know where we work they almost demanded you get it. It’s what made me positive I wouldn’t. Now look at us. Now look where we are.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Look at us. This is life, our life now.”

“You think getting the shot would have been the right thing?” Josh said.

“Sure as shit would have been the easier thing, don’t you think? I mean, seriously. How long are we supposed to go on like this? Let’s say we do make it to Mexico. You and I talked about this. There might not be an un-infected area in the US. In the world. Who knows,” I said.

“I said things were bad. I didn’t say hopeless. I didn’t mean to imply giving up. I’m just apprehensive about moving forward,” Josh said.

“What the fuck are you talking about, moving forward?”

“Mexico, or Canada. Surviving in the elements. Looking for food. Hunting for food. I’m used to cell phones and movies. Driving cars and going out to eat. I never had money, but life wasn’t so bad.”

“We’re going to be okay,” Dave said. He clapped a hand onto his brother’s shoulder.

Dave smiled. “I know we will. Guess I’m just thinking out loud.”