Last Man Standing (Book 3): Zombie Decimation

by Lockwood, Max

  After Natalia stomped out of the study, he retreated to his own bedroom and hastily stuffed clothing into his suitcase. He packed dress clothes in case he had an opportunity to work right away. He even packed his favorite lab coat that he’d snagged and sterilized before the lab was shut down.

  He would miss the home that he had built in Seattle, no doubt, but being away from the danger within the city would be a big relief. Plus, if he stayed out of the limelight for the moment, he would not come into questioning about what happened at the lab.

  About thirty minutes later, Natalia dropped her suitcase at the door with a dramatic thud.

  “You have everything you need?” Bretton asked.

  “Most of my things are at Mom’s house, but she picked a very convenient time to be on vacation.”

  “Well, whatever you need, we can buy when we get to Grandma’s,” he said, plastering a bright smile onto his face. “Go ahead and get in the car. I’ll take your suitcase out.”

  Hands full of their most prized possessions, Bretton Vincent looked back at the home where he had spent so many years of his life. It was hard to say goodbye, but he knew he wouldn’t survive the city if he stayed.

  “I called your grandmother earlier, and she said she’s going to make her famous baked ziti for you,” he said, trying to cheer up his sullen daughter.

  “Cool,” she said dryly, looking out the window.

  Just blocks away from their wealthy neighborhood, there were people forming crowds. Bretton was relieved, as he had a sneaking suspicion that the people he saw were infected and looking to become violent.

  They rolled up to a stoplight at the edge of town, just before the highway. Just a few more minutes, and they would be out of town. They could leave this madness behind.

  A group of disheveled looking people swarmed Bretton’s car, expressionless faces peering into the windows.

  “Dad,” Natalia called, looking at her father in fear. It didn’t take an expert to know that there was something terribly wrong with those people.

  Bretton clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. There were now people standing directly in front of his car, blocking his passage to the outside world.

  He laid on the horn, hoping to startle the people in front of them. This did nothing to scare them away, but instead infuriated them. They pounded on the car as if they had predetermined their actions.

  “Just drive,” Natalia screamed.

  Bretton hesitated. If he drove on, he would certainly kill people. He had already done enough damage to his city. He didn’t want to see the blood on his hands. It was easier to pretend it didn’t exist.

  Suddenly, a baseball bat shattered the passenger’s side window and grey hands of all sizes reached for his daughter, yanking her from her seat. Natalia let out a blood curdling scream, freezing Bretton in his tracks.

  When his mind finally caught up to his surroundings, he reached for her foot, but she was already nearly out of the car. It was one against twenty at this point. The road ahead of him was now clear, and with the bat-wielding maniac making his way toward the driver’s side window, Bretton had a choice to make.

  With tears in his eyes, he pressed down on the gas pedal, leaving his daughter in the midst of the swarm.

  As he drove, he reasoned that if he had been infected, there would be no one left to create a remedy. He was gutted that he had to watch his daughter go, but she was collateral damage in the war between humans and the virus. He knew that there was still a chance she’d survive the attack, and then he could come back for her to deliver the first cure to her. He just needed a little more time.

  If anyone asked, he would say that he hadn’t seen his daughter in days. Or, he’d explain that she had become infected and there was nothing he could do. They would understand.

  He wondered how long the guilt would eat at him, tearing him apart from the inside, just as his laboratory creation was currently doing to hundreds or even thousands of people.

  Bretton’s first priority was to find a safe place. Then, and only then, would he begin to work on a cure. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he was infected by his own invention. He just needed to create the solution to his problem before it was the death of him.

  Click here to keep reading Point Of Transmission.