"Help!" screams a lady from the street, as she is leaving the wreckage, with bruises and blood dripping from her forehead. "Help us!"
As the woman, dressed in her usual blue uniform that is using on her job at Doctor Oetker factory, managed to crawl from the microbus. She looked around horrified, to see humans running from the streets, abandoning their cars, their loved ones, or any humans who needed help as he was hurt or dead on the streets. The girl sees how a thing wakes up from the street, it looks in her eyes and starts slowly walking toward her.
As the terrified woman looks at the thing coming to her, another person manages to crawl from the microbus, a male. The man looks to be in as bad a shape as the woman, with bruises on its face, and an injured eye. The man sees the woman and yells.
"Help! Help me!"
The woman turns around to that man, she runs to him, and helps him get out of the microbus. She pulls the man out from there with both of her hands, and as he gets outside of the wrecked vehicle, the man looks at its feet and sees how damaged its legs are, then it screams of pain as he was trying to move its own legs.
"Hey!" screams another person coming out from a small restaurant near the place where the wreckage has happened. "Over here!" he says to the lady to come in there.
"Help me!" yells the lady holding the injured man who is still screaming of pain because of his injured legs.
A person comes from that small restaurant, sees the thing walking toward the lady, and he immediately goes over to that thing instead of the lady. The said person, a male, in his twenties, is hitting that person with a wrench he was holding into his left hand. He hit the thing's head so hard, it made the thing fall on the ground, and stopped moving for a few seconds.
"What the fuck?!" yells the lady as she has seen the thing get hit on the head, it falls on the ground. "You killed him?!"
"It was either him or you." says the person coming over to the lady, and he helps her carry the wounded man to the restaurant like a big sack of potatoes.
As the two people are carrying the barely alive corpse to that small restaurant, another person yells for help as he manages to get out of the microbus where the other lady and the injured man were in. Another man, this one dressed in military clothes, leaves the restaurant, comes over to the microbus and helps the person leave it.
The military person is a male, probably in his thirties, has on the backside a rifle, that is tied to its left shoulder with a rope. The man helps the person get out of the microbus, who is a teenager, a woman, dressed in some expensive clothes, having a small backpack, meaning she was either going to high school, or was thinking it would be funny to skip classes today with her friends.
"Are you injured?" asks the military person.
"No." replies the teenager to the military. "There are still people in there."
"I will handle it." says the military person. "Now. Go into the restaurant, and stay there until help arrives. Understand?"
"Yes!" says the teenager and she run to the restaurant where the other three people have gone.
The person dressed in a military uniform, starts to break the windows of the microbus with the handle of the rifle. After he broke five windows, he looks on the inside of this microbus and sees there is another person who is crawling from there. The man helps that person, who is a man, probably the same age as the military personnel. After he managed to get out from the wreckage, he checked himself, looking to see if he had any wounds or bites on his body.
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"You are not bitten."
"No, sir." says the person.
"Go into the restaurant. The vehicle will come to take us from here."
"Understand!" says the person and he run to the restaurant.
The military personnel remain there for a few seconds, then he raises up, looks around as he is holding his rifle in his hands to see if a thing will not come after him. He observes how some corpses are rising on their feet, and he quickly starts to shoot the first bullet of this rifle at a zombie near. It destroyed the brain and the head, making the corpse fall on the ground, which makes the other zombie nearby come after him.
The soldier runs inside the restaurant, where two people from there, two males, are moving a big table to block the main door, then with another person help they carry a second table, putting on the top of the first one, and back away from the door. A woman proceeds to use the curtains to block the zombie view of the place.
"I think we are safe." says the person dressed as a soldier, holding his rifle in his hands.
"Hopefully…" says one of the men who have used the tables to block the doors.
"What are these things?!" asks a distressed old lady sitting at a table with a male that looks like to be in his 30s and also distressed as the old person.
"These things are zombies." says the person dressed as a soldier to the nine people in that restaurant. He looks at them, sees how some of them are looking at him in a way. He observes some of them are not believing the story, while others do believe his story. Even if this apocalypse has happened weeks ago, for this region, this is the first such a virus hits them.
"These are real?" asks the injured person who is on the tale where a female is tending his leg wounds.
"Yes." says the soldier to the people at the restaurant.
"And how do we defend against these things?" asks the same old lady, feeling more distressed. This also points that this person knows about zombies.
"By shooting their head." says the person in his 30s who is looking to be his son the more a person would stare at him and observe the similarities between the two on the exterior. "Right?"
"Yes." says the soldier to that person. "You killed one of those?"
"I-I did." says the person. "I-I don't know if I killed him, actually. But I pushed him on the stairs. Hopefully it breaks his bones and his head while he was falling."
"Alright. You people have to remember. A shot into the head on these things means certain death to them. You wither shoot them with a bullet, hit them with a sword, a big and sturdy club enough to break their heads, or anything else to break their entire heads into pieces." he looks at the eight survivors, and one wounded person. He looks curios at the wounded person, he walks toward the said person.
The injured person is having its wounded leg bandaged. He looks at the person who treat his wound, the lady, proceed to feel a little nervous in front of the soldier. The soldier did not say anything, instead he takes the bandages off from the injured person to see what kind of wound he possess on the left leg. When he saw the wound, the soldier backs away in terror and he looks straight on the eyes of the person, who is starting to feel scared.
"Please, no." says the injured person on the verge of crying. "Don't… Please…"
The soldier takes his gun, he aims his pistol to the head of the injured person, and pulls the trigger quick enough to make the other react as late to stop this murder. After the soldier pulled the trigger, everyone from the room are reacting in shock. The old woman almost collapsed, but there was her son who helped her stand up. Then there was also the woman who helped the injured person, who was looking in shock how this soldier killed the person that was treated by her.
"Why did you do that?" asks a person angrily to the soldier.
"It was infected." says the soldier aiming his gun to the wound on the leg of the corpse. "That is a zombie bite. You get bitten, you transform into a zombie. Like these things outside." he puts his pistol away, and takes the rifle it was left to where is the blockage made, and he loads it. "You die. You transform into zombies. You inhale weird mushroom spores from outside. You die. You get into contact with a zombie blood. You get infected." he looks on the windows, sees a bunch of zombies approaching the restaurant these eight survivors are hiding and staying still for a military evacuation. "There are coming a lot more than I was expecting, to be fair." He cocks his rifle with enough bullets.
"We are going to fight them?!" asks one person from this restaurant.
"No." says the soldier. "There are more than we can take it. We have to run from here."
"And leave the body here?!" asks the old lady to the soldier.
"This the only way, ma'am. It is now us or them."