I did not want to leave the safety of the car. I was anxiously itching at my blood-covered clothing while peering out the window for signs of danger.

Nothing.

The streets were eerily quiet despite being packed. I had no idea if that was a good sign or not, but it felt wrong. A part of me hoped it meant we had left the worst of the situation behind us.

"Any weapons?" Paul asked. "You know, just in case?"

Nick got out of the car first. "I got a tire iron in my trunk."

"That's it?"

"Yup." Nick closed his door and moved to the trunk, popping the hood.

You can do this.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car. My palms were clammy and I felt on edge as if I was about to be pounced on at any moment. Paul joined me and gave me a pat on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. It didn't work, but I appreciated the gesture.

Nick slammed the trunk shut with the tire iron in hand and gave us a steely look. "Let's go."

He adjusted his grip to an easy swing hold and strode past us. We quickly followed suit. I didn't like feeling vulnerable at all. I desperately wanted some kind of weapon. That's when an idea popped into my head. "Hey, Nick, give me your keys."

"My keys? Why?" He hesitated, giving me a calculating look.

"Please?"

Evidently, he decided that giving me his keys wouldn't put him at risk because he tossed them to me. I barely managed to snatch them out of the air.

"Thanks."

"Don't lose them," he said. "My apartment key is on there."

There were three keys on the keychain and they were all attached to a metal ring on the end of a strip of leather. I wove the keys through the knuckles of my right hand and grasped the leather strip in my palm. I knew it wasn't the best weapon, but it was better than nothing.

"I won't," I said, looking Nick in the eye.

He surprised me by smirking at me. "Smart."

I hoped so. Though if we were lucky, I wouldn't have to test it.

As we walked, the sounds of car horns got louder, but it was a block before we came upon people.

At first, it was just people in their cars. I walked past a family of four inside a minivan. The parents seemed to be arguing and gesturing wildly, while the children cried in the backseat. When the father noticed us weaving around the cars, his gaze changed from angry to crazed with fear. The honking from that car got louder. It was only after we passed that I realized he had that reaction from seeing me.

My blood covered body.

I tried to make myself more inconspicuous after that by walking closer to the towering frames of Paul and Nick. People still took note of us, some choosing to abandon their cars and begin walking as well.

By the second block, there were more people already on the streets. There was a mother sitting on the sidewalk rocking a blood-soaked little girl in her arms. She was crying and calling for help, stroking the girl's hair. I had to force myself to look away.

There was a priest outside his church ushering people in, blessing them as they passed the threshold. His expression was one of resignation. Even when a woman fell to her knees begging him for guidance, all he could do was bless her and help her enter.

The car right next to me honked, making me jump. Nick no longer held the tire iron in a fighting stance. Instead, he had tucked it into his side in an attempt to blend in. I gave the keys a squeeze for reassurance.

We had made it to the third block and my racing heart was pounding in my ears.

"We're almost there," Nick muttered under his breath.

Following his words was the crack of a gunshot. The three of us ducked a bit in surprise. I couldn't pinpoint where it had come from, but I could hear someone screaming and crying from a good distance behind us.

Without warning, Paul grabbed my wrist and started tugging me forward. We sped up our pace to a jog.

"Keys, now," Nick ordered.

I relinquished the keys from my hand as we approached a three-story brick building. Tossing them to Nick in a clumsy fashion, we did our best to speed up our pace.

He got to the door first and began to work the lock as Paul and I stood at the base of the stoop. There was a woman kneeling next to a bench about ten feet away from us. I could see feet dangling off the edge, but the back of the bench obstructed my view of the occupant.

"Darren, Honey?" I could hear the woman sobbing. She kept shaking him as though she was trying to wake him up.

"Oh God, no. No baby, please!"

My heart skipped a beat. I really wanted those keys back.

It seemed as if Nick was struggling. He kept cursing under his breath and pushing at the door with his shoulder while jiggling the handle.

"Darren?"

My head whipped around back to the bench where I noticed the occupant's foot move.

Zombie.

A shiver ran up my spine and I tried to shake it off.

A growl came next.

From the corner of my eye, I could see that Nick's movements had become more frantic. Paul grabbed the tire iron from where Nick had placed it against the doorframe.

The woman screamed and stumbled back away from the bench as the occupant lunged for her. They fell to the ground as the man bit into her forearm.

"Nick, Hurry!" Paul yelled as he brought the tire iron up, holding it like a baseball bat.

The thing's head snapped in our direction and began working itself into a standing position, leaving the woman clutching her arm and sniveling on the pavement. It moved towards us in the same strange, stiff shuffle Mary had.

I was closer to it, but it went right past me for Paul.

He attempted a swing, but the thing used its body weight to knock him back against the side of the building, making him drop the tire iron. The sound of the metal hitting the pavement prompted me into action.

Paul pushed the thing back by its shoulders as it snapped its teeth at him. I did the first thing I could think of and grabbed the thing by its short curly hair. I sunk my fingers in until I was scratching at the scalp and began to pull with all my might. I held the head back in my best attempt to keep its teeth away from Paul, but kept having to adjust my grip as I ripped out tufts of hair.

Nick quickly lunged in and grabbed the thing by the back of the shirt collar. The three of us together managed to get the thing to lose its balance and it fell backwards to the ground. I managed to jump away from it just in time, before it could take me down with it.

It began to get back up, but Nick scooped up the tire iron and with no hesitation, he lodged it into the thing's chest. It didn't even flinch. I should have expected it, but the thing's lack of awareness to pain was jarring. It just continued to flail in its attempts to get at us as Nick held it skewered to the ground.

"What the fuck?" Paul gasped.

Nick yanked the tire iron back with a hard tug, freeing it from the zombie's chest cavity. Then, he shoved the iron down straight through the head.

It stopped moving.

Nick struggled to get the tire iron out of the skull. Pulling hard, it tore free, causing him to stagger back.

"Get inside," he huffed, trying to catch his breath.

I became conscious of the fact that I was still holding onto clumps of hair that I'd ripped out and quickly released it. Hurriedly moving to the door, I wiped my hands off on each other. I placed a hand on the doorknob and was ready to turn it when a voice came from behind us.

"Can I come with you?"