Gone

The sound of rain hitting an old farm house mixes with the haunting sound of wind chimes. Vince sits at a kitchen table heavily layered with dust. He fidgets with a radio, attempting to pick up a signal. The dilapidating house creaks as a gust of wind rolls through, splatters of rain follow. He begins to grow annoyed, and then...

An ear piercing screech buzzes out of his radio, before a woman's voice comes through.

"Vince- Are you- Hello." The voice cuts out over the radio.

"Jen, the signal's bad. Jen, can you hear me?" He asks with a bit of urgency in his voice.

The radio buzzes and crackles. He is taken aback by the sheer volume being produced, and then the radio clears.

"Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me?"

"You're coming through clear now. Listen, I don't have much time. A bad storm's rolling through."

A few seconds of silence fill the room.

"Okay, I'm putting her on." Jen says, cutting out toward the end.

"Hey dad." A young girl says through the radio.

He pulls the radio closer to his mouth in excitement.

"Hey babygirl." Vince says, his voice cracking a small amount.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting in an old farm house right now, waiting on my friends."

"Where are you at?"

Vince doesn't reply right away, he instead takes in the moment.

"East of Houston. About an hour from where I grew up."

"When are you coming back?" His daughter asks.

The question hits him like a bullet. He drops his head and sits the radio on the table, rubbing his face as he prepares to answer.

"Soon." He tells her, trying to hold back.

"That's what you said last time." The girl says to him, getting annoyed.

"Daisy, I promise it won't be long. I'm getting closer everyday-"

A muffled argument comes from a door to his left, catching his attention. He shakes his head and sighs.

"How long?" Daisy asks, taking his focus back.

"I don't know, but-"

The door to his left flies open, and Gerald enters the kitchen from the garage.

"I need your help in here." Gerald says to Vince.

A woman arguing with another man echoes from the garage, as Gerald stands there waiting on an answer.

"Goddamnit, I can't get one second of peace!" Vince yells out, getting up from the table.

Vince shuts off the radio and follows Gerald into the garage, where Tanya and Kevin are going at it.

"You know this is suicide, but you don't care 'cause you're just along for the ride." Tanya screams at Kevin.

"Fuck you! You don't know shit about me!" Kevin yells back at her.

"Stop it! What is wrong with you two?" Vince interrupts.

"This crazy bitch's lost her damn mind!" Kevin explains, losing his temper again.

Gerald's cool begin to quickly fade, as he steps closer to defend his wife, "The hell did you just call her?"

Vince puts his arm up stopping Gerald in his tracks.

"Enough! We have work to do!" Vince yells at them again, ending the argument.

Kevin crawls back under a diesel pickup parked in the middle of the garage. He continues to salvage parts from it while the truck collects more dust. Gerald makes his way over to Tanya to console her. He wraps his arms around her, but she pushes him off, not wanting any bit of it.

"Baby, don't be like that." Gerald tells her.

"So you wanna die too?" Tanya snaps back.

"Lori's the best chance we got baby-"

"Like hell she is. She's been using us from the start, just one thing after another."

Vince begins to get irritated again. He tried to hold himself back, but he just can't.

"So what's your plan, Tanya?" Vince asks walking over.

"To keep us safe. Not rely on luck to get us out every time we go on one of your suicide missions." Tanya shoots back.

Vince rubs his face, finally beginning to break.

"What other choice do we have!? This is the only way we're gonna find my son! To find Kira."

Vince storms out of the garage and back into the house. Tanya flees out a door going to the backyard and Gerald follows quickly after. Kevin stays behind to work on the truck, pulling a Walkman from his pocket to bump some old rock music.

Rain falls from the heavens down into the large, overgrown backyard of the farmhouse. Tanya jets across the back porch, Gerald in hot pursuit. Tanya leans up against the railing, breathing heavy, trying not to lose her shit.

"I'm done. We can do this on our own." Tanya says to him.

"We tried that life. We're lucky we're even breathing." Gerald says, attempting to squash her rebellion.

"I'm just... I'm worried, and after Atlanta, and David. I don't know how much more I can take."

Gerald puts his arm around her, leaning in.

"You can't give up now, we're almost there. We're gonna find her."

"I know, honey, I know. I just don't feel good about this, and Lori. She's just spinning us in circles."

"But she is the best chance we have. Vince just needs to straighten her out."

***

Rainwater drips from the roof of a white golf cart, hitting the asphalt road below. Lori, the town's matriarch, sits in the cart as she talks to two men. They sit on the main road of Winnie, Texas. A town slowly succumbing to rapid military expansion, and the constant threat of the infected.

"I need the wall reinforced by the off-ramp. A couple of the infected got in last night, and Mario's wife got bit." Lori says to the men.

"How's Mario doing?" One of the men asks.

"Not well, and since it's maintenance's job to oversee the wall, I'm docking you both two weeks of rations." She says to them.

"What! Come on, that ain't fair!" The other man argues.

An older man sporting a cowboy hat and jeans comes walking up from across the road. This is Sheriff Joe Rivers, the former Chambers County Sheriff and now head of Winnie's security.

"Hey Lori. Can I talk to you for a minute?" Joe yells out.

"You two morons go fix that wall, and when you get done you go bury that poor bastard's wife." She demands.

The two men storm off, all pissed. She looks over at the Sheriff, and gestures for him to get closer.

"Get in." She says to him.

The Sheriff obliges, hopping into the passenger seat. She quickly speeds off, cruising the depressing streets of a once thriving town.

"Our friends in Baytown are ready, just waiting on us now." Joe says to her.

"Good, they should be back anytime." She responds.

"There's something you should know about them."

"What? Spit it out."

"Apparently, the army'll pay a price for 'em."

"Well, no one likes the army."

Joe repositions himself to look at her, getting more serious this time.

"I'm talking a big price, and with the army off our backs-"

"No! After all they've done for me... for us." She interrupts him, shutting down his idea.

"If they come through again and find them here, they will kill everyone."

She slams on the brakes and the golf cart comes to a screeching halt.

"Get out!" She yells.

"Lori, come on!"

"I said... get out!" She yells at him again, this time shoving him out.

She peels off down the street and Joe is left standing in the rain looking like a fool.

***

Vince is back at the table, attempting to find a signal on his radio. He keeps trying but doesn't have any success, so he gets up and walks out the front door. Out front, hills rolled as far as the eye could see. The weather was also beginning to ease. He tries his radio again, this time getting a signal.

"Roscoe, can you hear me?" He asks into the radio.

He gets no response, just the sound of rain beating the house and the wind softly whipping.

"Roscoe, please tell me your radio's on."

Roscoe, a scavenging teenager, calmly checks the shelf's of a ravaged convenience store. Dozens of infected pound on the glass doors. They moan and groan as they try to break in to get their prey. He checks a paper list of shopping items as he scans a shelf, then his radio chirps.

"Come on kid, pick up." Vince's voice rings out into the room.

Roscoe picks the radio up and brings it up to his mouth, "Sorry, I was trying to figure out what maxi-pads were."

Vince sighs a breath of relief, laughing a little before saying, "Damnit kid, you about gave me a heart attack."

"I can pick you something up for that."

"No that's okay. How you are getting on anyway? Do you about have all the old hag's groceries?"

"Yeah, just grabbing the last things now. So what are maxi-pads, anyway?" Roscoe asks, as the infected begin to crack the glass doors.

"Why don't you ask Tanya when you get back." Vince says to him.

"I'll do that."

Vince chuckles before the sound of gunshots catches his attention. He brings the radio back to his face, "You be careful in there, we'll be moving on when you get back, over and out."

"Over and out." Roscoe repeats back, before he climbs out a window he had left open, jumping onto a dumpster below.

***

Dead leaves crunch under the feet of a young man bleeding profusely from his side, as he sprints through the woods. He holds a semiautomatic pistol in one hand, while the other holds his side. His head constantly turning to check behind him. *BOOM*

The man's feet catch an exposed tree root sending him flying to the ground, face first. He quickly flips around on his back, and scrambles around for his dropped gun. He looks up to see about ten infected heading straight for him. Their footsteps pounding on the forest floor. He finds his pistol, but fumbles it, dropping it again. He picks it up again and aims it straight forward. He squeezes the triggers and... *CLINK* *CLINK* The gun jams.

He throws the pistol down and lays back, prepared to meet his fate. Suddenly, gunfire begins to erupt from behind him. The infected begin to drop, one by one, their bodies letting out a pungent smell that's near unbearable. He looks back in a hurry to see a weathered looking man, Vince, walking up wielding an M4 rifle. He's unsure if the danger is gone, picking his pistol back up. He struggles to rack the slide back but does, ejecting the jammed round into the foliage nearby.

"What do you plan on doing with that?" Vince asks the injured man as he gets closer.

"Making sure it doesn't get me into another situation." The man responds, breathing heavy.

"I don't think it's the gun. What're you doing out here, anyway?"

"We left the zone this morning, headed for Freedom."

Vince laughs at his statement.

"Well you sure as shit found it out here. Here let me help you up." Vince says extending a hand.

The man takes Vince's hand and slowly gets up off the ground. Once on his feet, the man instantly grabs his side as it leaks blood down his clothing.

"I'm talking about the place, mister. You ain't ever heard of it?"

"Oh, I've heard of it, alright. Along with plenty of other fairy tales."

Vince leans down to get closer to the man's side, inspecting his wound.

"You bit?" Vince asks him.

"No. Me and the others got jumped by some... some sick motherfuckers. Guy stuck me with a knife that looked like a fucking sword."

The man begins to get exhausted, so he leans up against a tree and then sliding down to the ground.

"You don't look too good." Vince tells him.

"I don't feel too good. Look I don't know who you are-" The man says before being interrupted.

"Shuuuu."

Both of the men quiet down as they hear a distant roar.

"What is that?" The injured man asks.

Vince doesn't say anything, instead he pulls his backpack off and grabs a set of binoculars out of it. He puts them up to his face while he scans the area the survivor came from.

"Oh god." Vince exclaims, a little fear in his voice.

Vince steadily puts his binoculars away before swinging his backpack back over himself.

"What? What is it?" The survivor asks him, worry building in his voice.

Vince points down at the man's pistol and says, "You better save one for yourself."

Vince then gets up and starts walking away.

"So you're just going to leave me here? Come on, you gotta help me, please!" The man begs.

"Saving your life isn't enough!? We're miles from any place that can help you and you ain't gonna make it."

Vince turns away again, and walking away in a hurry.

Rage fills the survivor as he raises his pistol and puts Vince right in the crosshairs.

"Fuck you!" The man yells to Vince, before cracking a shot at him.

The bullet misses the caught off guard Vince, as he promptly jumps behind a tree to take cover. *BAM* The survivor fires another shot, missing Vince and hitting the tree. Vince positions his rifle, before peaking out. Once he trains his sights on the man, he opens fire landing three shots and killing the man. He then takes off sprinting, grabbing around for his radio. He finds it, turns it on, and pulls it to his mouth.

"Everybody pack up now! We're leaving!" Vince shouts over the radio.

"What the hell is going on?" Kevin asks.

"Horde."

***

Sheriff Joe sits at a desk in the office of a rundown police station that looks like it hasn't been remodeled since the eighties. He sits with his feet propped up, drinking homemade booze. In one hand an expired Marlboro, the other a piece of paper. He stares intently at the paper. He puts the paper down and grabs another one beside it that's lined in a row with three other papers.

On the paper is a picture of a big bearded, long haired, gruff looking man in his forties. It read as follows: David Briggs, Age: 40-50, Reward: 10,000 Green Cards, Charges: Multiple counts of murder, theft, and terrorism against the United States Army.

He puts David's poster down and picks up another.

This one read: Vincent Valentine, Age: 35-40, Reward: 10,000 Green Cards, Charges: Multiple counts of murder, theft, and terrorism against the United States Army.

He puts Vince's poster down and sits there, contemplating. He picks up his bottle of fermented libation and takes one last drink, killing the whole thing. He then collects the posters of Vince's group off the table and heads for the door, then stumbling out of the police station and down the road. He makes his way down the main road to the old bar, which serves as the town's community center.

He barges through the doors of the bar, catching everyone's attention.

"I'm gonna show you... Who y'all's hero... Really is." Joe announces to the whole bar in a slur.

"What're babbling about, Joe?" A patron asks.

Joe shuffles over to a wooden post in the middle of the barroom, he then takes out his knife and sticks Vince's picture to the post. He then walks over to a nearby patron.

"Let me see your... your knife." Joe asks without really asking.

The patron doesn't hesitate though, handing his knife over to see what the inebriated Sheriff had to show.

The bar breaks out in questions. Joe continues around the bar asking for knives, until he finally gets the last one hung, David's.

"These are your heroes... and when the army finds them here... they may kill us all." The sheriff announces to the bar.

This gets the patrons talking, some turning on the group, some not. The bartender turns to one of the fellow patrons and says, "You think he's full of shit?"

"I don't know, but we need to get him out of here." The patron responds.

The patron and the bartender both make their way to Joe. They both get a good hold of him, and begin to drag him out of the bar.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" The Sheriff says as he begins to fight back, even trying to bite, but doesn't have any success.

The pair drag him to the door and throw him out on the sidewalk.

"Go sleep it off, Sheriff." The bartender says, before the two walk back inside.

Joe gets up, dusts himself off, and walks into the night babbling to himself.

***

The crew shuffle around the garage, nearly bumping into each other, as they hustle to get packed up. Kevin shoves all his tools in a duffel bag laying on the ground, along with all the parts he managed to scavenge off the truck. Tanya and Gerald get ready fast, giving them time to check their guns. Then the back door flies open. Everyone turns, ready to shoot, but Roscoe flies in, slamming the door behind him.

"Everyone ready?" Roscoe asks, pulling the door open to the house.

"Almost there." Kevin says.

"Yeah, we're just waiting for grandma over there. Hurry up!" Tanya says, poking fun at Kevin.

"Give me a fucking a second!" Kevin yells back at her, putting the rest of his things in his duffel bag.

He closes it up and swings it around his body, now ready to go.

"Let's go!" Kevin says to them while gesturing with his hand.

"What about, Vince?" Gerald asks, looking around.

"We can't wait on him, we gotta go." Tanya insists.

Gerald looks to Kevin for assistant.

"I actually agree, we need to move." Kevin says.

Roscoe then leads the group out of the garage and through the farmhouse, exiting through the front and out onto a county road. The group then takes off full speed down the road. Gerald pulls his radio out, turning it on and putting it to his mouth.

"Vince, where are you?" He asks.

"I'm coming up on the highway, I will meet you there." Vince replies to him.

The group makes it the highway where they see Vince approaching with a massive swarm of undead filth on his tail.

"Get to the truck!" Vince yells to them.

The group doesn't hesitate, swiftly making way to the truck and climbing in. Kevin jumps in the driver's seat, pulling the keys from his pocket and sticking them in the ignition before turning it over. The truck doesn't start.

"What's taking so long?" Gerald asks.

"It's not starting." Kevin explains to him.

"What?"

"I said it's not starting."

Kevin pops the hood, jumping out and opening it up. He checks all the fluids and they appear to be in order, he then fidgets with the battery cables as Gerald comes running over.

"Try and start it." Kevin orders him.

"Okay." Gerald agrees, hopping in the driver's seat.

He turns the key and tries, but nothing. Kevin slams the hood down and begins to beat on it while yelling, "Goddamn! Work, you piece of shit!"

Gerald turns the key again and the truck starts right up. Kevin looks up and his eyes lock with Gerald's, they both give a grin and small chuckle. Kevin then goes around the truck and hops into the bed with Roscoe. Vince approaches, following suit. Now the infected are just ten yards away, so Gerald slams on the gas pedal, quickly getting them out of there. Vince pants as he attempts to regain his breath from all the running. He slaps Roscoe on the chest and says, "All for a maxi-pad, huh?"

The two bust out laughing while Kevin sits next them clearly confused.