10

The short man hobbles toward Patrick, who stumbles as he haphazardly climbs out of the pile of boxes, each step dragging him back down into the mess of clothing and cardboard. You back away and run outside into the alley, knowing there's little you can do to stop the short man. You lean in and close the door, and Patrick's cries for help die out.

A stiff, chill breeze blasts through the wide alley, cooling your skin. Distant sounds compete: screams, gunshots, roaring engines. You can't think straight but know you need to get away. Running to the end of the alley, one thought repeats itself: "Home…gotta get home. It's the safest place."

In the parking lot, your mind has trouble focusing upon any one thing as a thousand scenes play out at once. People attacking others. Cars slamming into pedestrians as they speed out of the parking lot. Police calling out orders. A helicopter soaring overhead. A news van overturned and ablaze. Everyone running and screaming.

A yellow taxi pulls in front of you, horn blaring at the dozens of pedestrians spilling from the theater. You hop into the empty back of the cab as its young driver yells with animated hand gestures. "Get out! No!"

You empty your pockets onto the back seat and shove several hundred-dollar bills through the slot in the metal grate separating you from the driver. "That's all the money I have, now drive!" The taxi driver instantly calms down and pulls the cab away from the curb.

A whiny female voice spits from the dashboard radio.

"—police are trying to control the situation, but a massive number of reports are coming in of enraged, violent citizens wreaking havoc throughout the area. Many assume this change in behavior is due to infection from the virus spreading through Asia, Australia, and Africa—"

The car jolts forward, and you pull out of the lot. The tires squeal on the damp road. Windshield wipers swipe off a skin of snow. Something cuts across the car, and Patrick veers out of the way of an oncoming trailer. Hanging from the driver-side window, a dark-haired woman claws at the driver inside. Passing by, you glance back as the truck slams into a cement divider, and the woman vaults off and collides with the windshield of a parked jeep.

You close your eyes and sink back in the seat. Just get back home.