Forgive Me

Iñaki turns on the first street to his right and continues in the opposite direction of the urbanization. The infected follow him like an army of ants. Thousands of bare feet, crumpled legs, torn clothes, fingerless hands, rib-perforated torsos, and emaciated faces are reflected in his rearview mirror. Only the engine of his car separates him from them. "Do not fail me," Iñaki thinks seeing them, "good friend."

The screaming assaults his brain and clouds the rest of his senses. Images of the infected devouring him are conjured up in his mind, of the car failing, of his face joining the tide of the dead.

"Enough!"

His scream brings him back to reality but quickly the moans begin to take hold of his imagination once again.

Iñaki increases the distance a little and keeps the speed at 25 km/h. When he strays too far, he slows down and concentrates on the "runners." When they're too close, he starts again. It seems like some kind of dark ritual where Iñaki is the sorcerer and the infected are the ingredients.

Iñaki turns again a few streets ahead and the river of bodies follows his trail. According to his calculations, they must be about 3.5 kilometers from the urbanization; it is not enough. The funeral procession continues with him at the head.

Iñaki leaves houses and cars behind but his followers persist. They are like a big connected neuron and he the only stimulus. The car, like a faithful dog, follows his orders and turns once more.

Iñaki walks into a neighborhood decorated with graffiti. A giant tongue of the Rolling Stones licks the wall, and a <> later appears above an unpainted <>...

Dark and moldy buildings flank it. Even the light seems hesitant to enter that neighborhood. A house to your left offers its boarded-up windows. Another one later shows its open and dark door. The temperature drops inside the car.

Iñaki looks out the rearview mirror and checks that he has strayed too far from the horde. He stops. The dead are closing the gap. Then he sees them on the next street.

On the second floor of a house, three individuals look out the window. They are alive. He knows it by his movements, by the color of their skin, he simply knows it...and as a greeting, he brings thousands of infected to their door.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. Inaki feels the terror in the air.

Iñaki deviates by turning on the street to his right, accelerates honking his horn, and brakes at a safe distance.

"Come on..."

Iñaki looks back. The dead reach the corner and the river forks. Hundreds of them follow him but others have seen the trio of survivors and continue down the same street.

"Shit!" he exclaimed.

Iñaki accelerates. The houses seem to rewind to his sides. He turns Left. The infected disappear from his rearview mirror. He turns left again. Their moans are more deafening than ever. He turns one last time to the left and is confronted by a multitude of corpses. The three heads are still there in the middle of the street. The dead move around the corner.

Iñaki feels his heart beating in his ears. The dead advance. The three heads get inside the house too late. About 30 meters separate the horde of revived from the door. Iñaki calculates that it must now be about 10 kilometers from his urbanization.

25 meters…

Iñaki's imagination plays movies of him driving to the gate, the three individuals getting into the car, and a successful escape. But in reality, he doesn't have time for feats.

The dead, oblivious to his fantasy, arrive at the door and begin to knock on it. Their hungry eyes power every thrust. The moans are so loud that Iñaki thinks he's going deaf. The smell is nauseating.

"Forgive me…"

As if it were a magic trick, the first infected disappears inside the house. Then, the second, the third... They knocked on the door. Iñaki imagines the screams. The ants continue to enter the anthill. A few seconds later one of the survivors jumps out the window like a rock star giving himself up to his fans.

Iñaki has seen enough.

He backs up, turns right, and drives away as fast as the car will take him. The tires bite the pavement, the steering wheel shakes in his hands, and his foot sticks to the accelerator. He wants speed to swallow the images in his mind, to consume his actions, and erase those three strangers from his memory.

"Forgive me...Forgive me...Forgive me..."