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snaps violently towards the man holding her, but the motion means she can’t get close enough to reach him.
    Tension grips me as they get closer. I’ve mentally prepared myself for the possibility of zombie battles, but I didn’t expect to be forced to kill someone alive, but if he threatens me with his little ‘pet,’ I’m going to have to, aren’t I? It’ll be so much harder fighting someone with the same mental capacity of me, plus this guy is probably some kind of psychopath. Apocalyptic situations are well known for bringing the worst out in people.
    I’m going to have to make myself look like a formidable enemy. If he thinks there’s a chance I might beat him, he may leave me alone. Or is that just wishful thinking? I grip onto the golf club harder, very aware of its location right above my head, if I’m going to swing, I need to do it at exactly the right moment. I’ve got to be clever; my reflexes need to be perfect.
    As they descend onto me, the golf club starts to slip. My palms are sweating profusely and it’s getting harder to keep hold of the metal pole. “Stop it!” I hiss at myself under my breath. “Stop it now, you can do this. No, you have to do this. You’ve got no choice.” I click my tongue, a habit I got into to help me concentrate. It’s how I got through my GCSE exams last year.
    The man and his zombie pass by me in a blur, knocking me backwards, not even acknowledging my existence.
    “Hey!” I cry after them involuntarily, causing the man to turn and face me. He doesn’t stop moving, not even for a split second, but I can immediately see the pain and fear deep-rooted in his eyes. The woman must be someone important to him, someone he loved and he obviously can’t let go. Maybe it was his wife. Either way, it isn’t going to end well. Maybe he’s running so that no one kills her, or maybe he knows that if he stops for too long, she will kill him.
    I want to laugh at his idiocy. He’s made a fatal mistake; he’s allowing feelings to affect his decisions. That’s a sure-fire way to end up shuffling and moaning in amongst the rest of the zombie population. Well, if that’s what he wants to do, then so be it. You wouldn’t catch me doing anything so stupid.
    Suddenly, another sound gets my attention. I turn slowly; just to be faced with the real reason that guy was running.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 11
     
     
    ETHAN
     
    I lean over the bath tub, trying to ignore the pounding that’s getting louder and louder by the second. I need something to lure Clare away from the door, but what? Unless a loud noise blares out or another person appears somewhere, I’m stuck. I’m going to have to fight. I’m going to have to attack my fiancée to keep myself alive. I don’t want to hurt her or damage her in anyway. If a miracle cure does appear I don’t want any of the changes to her to be my fault. She may have memories of me smacking her and then we’ll never get back together. I couldn’t bear it.
    I grab the crowbar, forcing myself to make a move. I’ve spent my entire life trying to prevent myself from getting ill; I really don’t want to die via one of the worst diseases humanity has ever experienced. I just…I can’t let that happen.
    If I can stun Clare, for even a second, I can run out of that door and not come back until I have some answers. Really I’m doing all of this for her. I’m trying to find out if there is an end to the disease in sight, just for the slight possibility that I might get my beautiful Clare back.
    I hold onto the lock and time stands still. I can hear the ticking of a clock very loud, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. It could just be my own mind. The negative voice in the back of my head, the one that has prevented me from doing so much with my life, starts yelling louder than ever before. “Go out there and you’re going to get infected. Go out there and you’ll die. Go out there and you and Clare will eternally