The wagon jerked as the tractor pulled forward. Erik, Sean Dean and Steve Summers fell from the wagon. The infected horde stepped forward as all three men struggled to stand. Erik looked up and watched as an infected, middle-aged woman stood over Steve Summers. Her eyes were pale and hollow. The skin on her face torn and hung under her right ear. Steve screamed as the woman fell to her knees and began to pull at anything that may tear easily. Steve had fallen on his chest and struggled to turn over as the infected woman tore open his thin shirt. The infected woman grabbed and pulled at the overweight man’s waist. Steve screamed as his skin stretched. His daughter, Kali, screamed as she watched from the wagon. Erik stood and shoved the infected woman backward. She fell into the tall grass but was quickly replaced by two other infected men. Sean Dean stepped forward and helped Erik lift Steve from the ground. The two infected men stepped forward. Erik, Steve and Sean turned and ran toward the wagon as it slowly pulled away.
Sean caught the wagon first and attempted to rejoin the others. The driver of the tractor suddenly fired over the heads of the remaining prisoners on the wagon.
“Get off my wagon!” He shouted and fired again.
Sean struggled to climb aboard ignoring the driver. The driver threatened to fire into the small crowd upon the wagon and Sean slid from the wagon. His brother, Andrew leapt from the wagon followed by Kali and her mother, Andrea.
“What are we going to do now?” Andrea shouted. Steve threw his torn shirt into the grass. He ran to his wife, ignoring the cries of his young daughter. “We will be fine,” he said as he redirected Andrea toward the right. A horde of five infected stumbled forward.
“Is this Michigan avenue?” Asked Andrew as his brother, Sean helped him too his feet. “Let’s go,” Erik said as the infected began to surround them.
The group ran nearly two-hundred feet when Erik stopped and leaned on a small car buried in rust and green vines.