“I really thought we could avoid them!”
Outside the apartment complex the streets were crawling with infected. Cars were crashed. Cars were stopped in the middle of the street, their doors wide open. There were people tearing at one another’s skin. Making make shift molotov cocktails and throwing it at cars. Greta even saw one person pour gasoline all along a building and then light himself on fire and run in to the building and explode in a glorious mist of rubble and pink flesh. Amidst the fire and flesh there were people wandering around with a doe-like innocence plastered on their faces.
It was surreal. Not a week ago Greta had walked down this street to buy groceries, she had said hello to fellow strangers going about their business and even admired the city planner’s efforts at beautification. Now there were naked men and women burning themselves, cars turned over and exploding, and children that should be wailing out of fear or pain instead staring with placidity. It was surreal, beyond hollywood, and beyond the imagination.
“Gumbo and I are really elated by how this situation is unfolding,” Greta said, turning away from the cataclysm and to Jack. Jack shook his head as though he hadn’t quite heard her.
“It’s just… It really puts things in to perspective you know? That guy over there looks like he could eat my face off! It’s a lot scarier than whether or not I’m in a right turn only lane when I want to be going straight. Or at least, I know I should find it a lot scarier.” Running his hands through his hair, Jack groaned. His mouth opened to speak but no words came out. In those seconds it was like the days weren’t ending and Jack and Greta were back on the couch, disagreeing about television. “Gumbo and I are really pleased is all.”
“Listen,” Jack pulled Greta near him, “If we don’t get out of this.”
“What—” Greta said, confused as to Jack’s outburst. And then she saw. Not just one but multiple savages had spotted them and were running their way. Crazed and bloodthirsty; they tore at their skin and attacked one another that ran too closely. She shook her head. “I know what you’re going to say.”
Jack frowned. “I really don’t think you do.”
“It’s an ending speech. And I don’t need an ending speech because this is just the beginning. We’re going to get through this. And after we do you can tell me what you were going to say or not. But I don’t want an ending speech. I want a real speech.”
“Okay.” Jack released Greta and instead held her hand. Together they turned to face the advancing mob.