It's midnight before I finally get home, and as I pull in to the driveway I see the light of the TV shining through the windows.
I walk in to see my wife and son huddled together on the couch, watching some news broadcast. My wife turns to me, tears welling in her eyes.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out to her.
She doesn't say anything. She takes my hand in hers, pulling me close, and she points to the screen with the other.
"...new information has been revealed regarding the incidents involving the young men and women running rampant assaulting and killing multiple individuals yesterday.
'It was previously believed to have been the effects of drug use, specifically bath salts, but testing and detailed autopsies have shown that there were no traces of any form of drugs or illegal substances in their systems.
'Autopsies showed severe swelling of the brain, signs of raging high fever, and heart rates through the roof. It is unknown whether or not this is the result of a virus, bacteria, or something larger than we know. However, do NOT panic. Take precautions when around others and in public, and most importantly, do not, I repeat, do NOT panic. This is not a major issue, we will move past this."
I look back to my wife, who now has tears flowing down her cheeks. "We can't stay here, Cain. It's only going to get worse. They're downplaying it, I can tell."
I nod, "I know that Mae, but where are we going to go? We have no one."
"Dont pull that shit, Cain," she harshly whispers. "You and I both know where we're going. Your brother will have plenty of room and you know it."
"Damn it, Mae. I-"
"No, Cain! We're not doing this. You're not letting your petty shit with your brother ruin our chances of getting through this. If we stay here, we will not make it, and you know it. This is real. This is potentially the end of life as we know it. Petty problems and disagreements won't matter anymore."
I nod, realizing she's right, and we begin to gather as much as we can into my old Chevrolet pickup. I go into the basement to get all my old survival kits that were given to me over the years, and I pull out my old handgun, a simple 9mm. I grab all the ammo I have and stuff it all into my bag.
Outside, I hear Mae tap the horn a couple times and I rush out, quickly putting a finger to my mouth, shushing her.
I get in the truck and toss my bag in the backseat next to my son. I catch a glimpse of his face, and i notice the tear fall down his face.
"It's going to be okay, Sammy boy. Dont worry, okay?" I say and he looks to me, nods, and stares back out the window.
I quickly pull out of the driveway, and far in the distance close to the city, in the direction we have to go, I see raging fire, and I realize that Mae isn't wrong. She never is.
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