Crashed cars and wandering zombies clogged the streets ahead. Laila swerved to avoid them, jerking the wheel sharply to miss a zombie lunging into their path. It thudded against the side of the van before staggering away.

“Too close,” she muttered.

Tommy nodded, his hands pressed firmly against the dashboard.

They drove in tense silence for a few more minutes.

When Tommy spotted a store up ahead, he cleared his throat. “We should pull in and stock up.”

“Let’s make it quick.”

Laila signalled to the other vans and came to a stop. They stepped into the cold night air. The area looked deserted.

Tommy tried the door—locked.

“Step aside, children.” Zero approached with a tyre iron, smashing the window.

Laila rolled her eyes. “Subtle.”

Tommy climbed through the broken window into the mess inside.

While Laila gathered snacks and lighters, Tommy grabbed water bottles and maps.

“Where you headed?” Zero asked.

“Philly,” Tommy said.

“We’re headed back to Pittsburgh. Should stick together. Strength in numbers.”

“Yeah.”

Returning to the van, Tommy jumped into the passenger seat, Laila taking the wheel.

Tommy glanced back at Micky, his eyes glazed, his body still shaking.

Navigating the empty streets towards the highway, Laila swerved around a lone, staggering zombie. She gunned the engine as she weaved between abandoned cars and debris, the van’s worn shocks bouncing them around like pinballs.

Laila sighed. “We need to find more weapons at the next stop.”

“Maybe a gun store?”

She shook her head. “No guns. We can’t afford to attract more of those things with noise. And if we’ve got guns, we’ll need bullets. That’ll be a lot of weight to carry round.”

Tommy nodded. She was right, of course. They’d have to get creative.

“What about a sporting goods store? Bassball bats, golf clubs.”

“That could work. Anything silent but deadly.” She paused, biting her lip. “Do you think Micky is up for this? For any of it?”

Micky sat curled against the window now, eyes closed.

“I don’t know. But what can we do? We’ve survived worse.”

She turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Worse? Worse than a God damn zombie apocalypse?”

He grinned. “What about those late-night van breakdowns? That club owner in Chicago where the promoter did a runner and we had to beg for gas? Or that dive in Newark that ended up being full of Nazis?”

She laughed. “When you put it like that…”

After a while, they approached a small town. An old-fashioned main street, brick storefronts.

Tommy caught Laila’s eye and nodded. Time to gear up and face whatever came next.

She pulled the van up onto the sidewalk and cut the engine. No signs of zombies.

The other bands parked up behind them.

They slipped out, weapons in hand—Laila with her bass guitar, Tommy clutching a busted drum stand. Micky trailed behind, holding a single drumstick.

Zero stepped in and jimmied the lock on the nearest shop, a mom-and-pop sporting goods store called Frank’s. A bell jangled as they entered the dark space.

Tommy hurried to the back wall, grabbing the biggest bassball bat he saw. Laila found the golf clubs and shoved some into her bag.

Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Hey, an axe section!”

Laila joined him as he selected a small fireman’s axe—perfect for lopping off zombie heads.

He also grabbed a hunting knife to strap to his belt. They gathered up rope, flashlights, and other gear before slipping back out of the shop.

Laila held up a hand, gesturing for quiet.

Distant moans reached them, echoing through the empty streets. The zombies were coming.

Tommy rushed back to the van. As the noises grew louder, Laila slammed the van door shut.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”

She slammed her foot down on the gas, speeding off down the street. The moans faded behind them.

After a few minutes, Micky spoke up. “So what’s the plan? We can’t just drive forever.”

Laila turned around to face him. “We need to get out of the cities. Find an isolated place we can fortify and wait this out. Somewhere rural. A farm, maybe.”

“A farm?” Micky scoffed. “Seriously? We’re a punk band, not farmers.”

Laila rolled her eyes. “It was just a suggestion. We need self-sufficiency right now.”

Tommy shook his head. “We’re heading back to Philly. That’s the beginning and end of the plan for me.” He thought about Niamh and Sean. Were they safe? He had to get back to them.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

A scraping sound came from above. All three of them looked up.

A zombie crawled across the van’s roof, peering down through the front windshield. Its milky eyes locked with Tommy’s.

Laila screamed and slammed the brakes.

The zombie slid off the hood with a thud.

Micky sat up straight. “What the hell?”

More zombies emerged ahead.

Laila threw the van in reverse, narrowly missing the Minks’ van behind them. “Brace yourselves.”

Tyres squealing, she whipped the van around in a chaotic three-point turn.

The zombies lurched towards them.

Laila sped off in the other direction, gripping the steering wheel tight as they sped away.

The image of the zombie’s milky eyes etched into Tommy’s mind. What the hell were those things?

“That was too close for comfort,” Laila said. “We need to be more careful.”

“No more main roads,” Tommy said. “We’ll stick to the side streets from here on out.”

Laila gave a terse nod.

They drove in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

After a while, the glowing vacancy sign of a roadside motel beckoned. Good enough for a few hours of sleep, at least…if open.

Laila pulled into the empty parking lot and killed the engine. “Let’s get a room and try to rest.”

Tommy nodded. “Good call. We can figure out our next moves in the morning.”

Laila and Micky both looked dead on their feet. They grabbed their meagre supplies and headed for the motel office, hoping for a few precious hours of safety.

Tommy was surprised when a woman greeted them at the front desk. She didn’t seem fazed by three punk bands turning up after midnight. None of them mentioned the zombies.

Room key in hand, Tommy unlocked the door to their dingy motel room and they shuffled inside. Micky collapsed onto one of the twin beds, not even bothering to take his boots off.

Laila set her bag on the other bed. “At least someone’s gonna sleep tonight.”

“Let him rest for now. We’ll figure this out.”

Tommy did a quick sweep of the room to make sure it was secure. They’d stayed in worse places.

He grabbed a couple of sodas from the mini-fridge and handed one to Laila. They sat at the small table by the window, looking out at the parking lot bathed in the red glow of the vacancy sign.

Laila tapped a rhythm on the table. “So what’s next? It’s a long drive back to Philly.”

Tommy took a deep breath. “I think we need to find him some help. Get him to a doctor, maybe get some methadone or something.”

Laila nodded. “That could work. But where? Everything’s chaos out there.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He finished his soda and tossed the can into the trash. “Let’s get some rest. We can talk to Micky in the morning.”

Laila agreed.

They did one more check of the room, then finally laid down to sleep.

A loud knock jolted Tommy awake.

He got up and moved to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Roxy.”

He opened the door and met her fear-filled eyes. “Hey, what’s up?”

“We’ve got a situation, Tommy.” Her usually melodic voice was tight, clipped. “It’s Kim.”

Tommy and Laila gathered their things and roused Micky awake to follow Roxy out to the parking lot.

Members of her band stood near their van in the grey morning light.

“Show them,” Roxy said to Kim.

Kim jutted out her chin, and yanked up her sleeve.

The wound was unmistakable.

A savage, crescent-shaped bite mark, flesh ragged and oozing.

The telltale sign of infection.

“Damn.” Micky took a step back.

“How’d it happen?” Tommy asked.

“Back at the clock tower,” Roxy said. “But she says she feels fine. No fever, nothing.” She held up her hands. “We don’t know what to do.”

“There’s a lot we don’t understand about this virus,” Tommy said. “Maybe she can fight it off. We shouldn’t make any rash decisions.”

Laila’s eyes blazed, her mouth a hard line. “She needs to leave. Now. If that thing spreads…it’s the only responsible thing to do.”

“Let’s think this through.” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “We can’t just abandon her.”

Laila glared at him. “What if she turns into one of those freaks and kills us all?”

“We don’t know if that’s how this stuff works.”

Roxy shook her head. “We do. News says it spreads through bodily fluids. Bites. Scratches. And, then, it takes over…”

The words hung in the air, heavy as lead.

Tommy glanced at Kim, at the fear lurking in her eyes beneath the defiance.

“I think Laila’s right.” Roxy wrung her wrists. “We have to contain this.”

“No.”

They all turned as the Minks’ drummer stepped forward, his gravelly voice low but firm.

“We don’t abandon bandmates on the road.”

Roxy glowered at him. “But she might have it.”

Spike shrugged. “And she might not.”

Tommy raised a hand. “How about this. The back of your van’s separate from the cabin, right?”

Roxy nodded. “You mean like quarantine her in there?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s gonna be a squeeze.”

Tommy jerked a thumb behind him. “Split a few of your guys between the vans, if you have to. Just keep Kim separate.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Isolated but not abandoned.”

Roxy let out a sigh. “I guess we can keep an eye on her. Reassess once we know more.”

Without protest, Kim climbed into the back of The Furious Minks’ van, her eyes meeting Tommy’s for a brief moment before the door slammed shut.

Spike came over and seemed to force a smile. “Alright if I ride with you guys?”

Tommy nodded. “Sure.”

They climbed back into their vehicles, engines rumbling to life.

Tommy took a deep breath as he watched the Minks’ van pull away, Kim’s face peering from the back window.

Laila sat next to him, arms crossed. “This is a mistake. You know what needs to be done, you’re just too soft to do it.”

He bristled at her words. “There’s no need to be so extreme. Kim’s still human. We owe it to her to at least try.”

Laila scoffed. “She’s not human anymore, and the longer we pretend she is, the more danger we’re in.” She turned to the window.

Maybe Laila was right. But he couldn’t accept it. Not yet.

Micky leaned between the seats and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You did good, man. We’ll figure this out.”

He nodded, hoping Micky was right.

As Laila pulled away from the motel, Tommy couldn’t shake the feeling that the hard choices were just beginning.

Spike stared from the window, air whistling through his nose. He told them about Kim, how they’d grown up together, been best friends since grade school. If anyone had the right to an opinion here, it was him.

“What do you think, Spike?” Tommy asked. “About all this?”

Spike remained silent so long Tommy didn’t think he’d respond. “This whole thing is bullcrap. She’s still Kim. Still family. We don’t turn our backs on family.”

Tommy let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “We can’t abandon her when she needs us most.”

Laila’s head whipped around. “So that’s it then? We just ignore the very real danger and pretend everything’s fine?”

He held up a hand. “No one’s suggesting that. But we need to be smart, take precautions without being cruel.”

Laila opened her mouth to argue, but Micky interrupted. “Look, we’re all on edge here. It’s been a mess since the Gilman. But we’ve got to stick together or we don’t stand a chance. Kim’s one of us. We look out for our own.”

Laila sighed but didn’t push back.

An uneasy silence settled over the van as they continued down the deserted highway.

“Alright,” Tommy said, “The best we can do is keep an eye on her condition. At the first sign things are taking a turn, we deal with it. You saw those eyes, right? That’s how we’ll know.”

Laila’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she gave a curt nod.

Over the next few hours, the atmosphere in the van was subdued.

Tommy kept glancing in the side mirror, watching the Minks’ van following close behind. Kim was in there, alone and dealing with whatever was happening to her.

Part of him wondered if they’d made the right choice. Were they helping her, or just delaying the inevitable?

There were no easy answers anymore. All they could do was take it one mile at a time and hope they’d make the right turns.

For the next hour or so, Tommy stared out the passenger window, his forehead creased with worry. In the back, Micky jiggled his leg relentlessly, while Spike just sat there. Tommy wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but nothing came.

Roxy flashed her van’s lights.

Laila slowed and pulled over to the shoulder.

Micky groaned. “What now?”

They climbed out and gathered around the Minks’ van.

Kim lay inside, looking paler than before.

“It’s getting worse,” Roxy said. “She needs help.”

“Help we can’t give her,” Laila said.

“We need to do something.” A war raged in Tommy between sympathy and uncertainty. “Let’s give it a little more time. We can keep monitoring her, try to make her comfortable.”

Roxy narrowed her eyes. “We need to do something. What if she attacks? We need to make the tough choice here.”

All eyes turned to Tommy.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Laila shot him a glare. “You’ll do what?”

“We’ll still isolate her in the van for now. But I’ll stay back there too, keep an eye on things.” He raised a hand to silence Laila’s protest. “It’s the best compromise we’ve got.” He looked down at his hunting knife. “And if things take a turn…”