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conversation.
    Evan turned his attention back to Travis, “Fire away
son.”
    “Down at the beach, the ranger…and some of our
people…who were bitten by him, they turned into something I’ve never seen
before. They were like animals that just wanted to tear through us.”
    “That’s the blood virus. It’s taken down most of the
world’s population, I’m afraid. When it hit, most of us in these parts just
holed up at our ranches. Then a few weeks back, those things showed up, brought
in by some infected Japanese tourists on a bus that came to the hotel. Much of
the townsfolk, and my two boys, eventually got infected. We shot a bunch of those
creatures. Then one of the cowboys down the road got the idea to lure as many
as possible into the high school gym, where we torched a lot of the satanic
beasts. There’s still quite a bit of ‘em around, though, but we’ve been keeping
quiet here and, so far, haven’t had any problems. Just when we thought there
was some relief,” he gulped in some air with his body spasming, “these biker
thugs show up, rollin’ in on choppers and a convoy of trucks laying waste to
everything, shootin’ up the place.”
    “Is getting bitten the main disease vector for how
the virus is spread?” asked Katy.
    “All I know, from the early news broadcasts, is that
this started in Eastern Europe with people attacking one another and it
radiated out from there through air travel. It’s spread through being bit or
getting infected blood on an open cut on your skin. Some people just outright die
of internal bleeding and, God hope that is my only fate, but most others sorta
come back to life within six to eight hours, depending on the air temperature.
There’s some talk about higher elevations and colder temperatures slowing the
spread which is why so many people left here for Flagstaff or Colorado and why
places like Alaska have been able to contain it better. Here in the desert, we ain't
so lucky.”
    Travis ran a hand through his bristly hair. “Sorry
to ask, but when were you bit sir?”
    “About four hours ago, by my son Jack, who I buried
out back last night. I thought he was dead but he jumped me by the barn and
tore a hole in my arm before I had to…I had to...” tears streamed down his parched
face as he stared hard at the ground. “He was a good man. A damn good man,” he
said glancing over at his rifle. “At least he’s with his brother now. I reckon
we’ll all be reunited soon.”
    “What about the biker gang. Are they still around
here?” said Pete.
    “I don’t think there in the immediate area right
now. They showed up a few days ago and there was a shootout between them and
the other survivors living in the hotel. That’s when me, my sons and other
ranchers headed over and shot the shit outta most of ‘em. There’s talk they
control the smaller towns around here. The large cities like Vegas are war
zones between the undead, the criminals, and the desperate survivors.”
    LB returned from the front porch and rushed in wild
eyed, shoving open the screen door. “Those things…they’re coming…hundreds of
them! They’re on the road and moving out in the open field to the right. They
must have followed us.”

Chapter 6
     
    “I thought the town was pretty cleaned out?” said
Pete. “Where are all these creatures coming from?”
    “There are small pockets around this area that were
never quelled,” said Evan. “Many were probably feedin’ off the blood of the
dead victims around the hotel, after the last shootout. They musta heard the
noise of your truck on the pavement and followed you. Make no mistake- these
things ain’t alive but they are very aware of their surroundings. Some can even
come close to a run. Saw one last week movin' faster than a preacher at
collection time. They’re like pissed-off badgers acting on raw instinct.”
    Travis bolted to the front door and peered outside at
the moving throngs of undead. “Looks like we’ve got mere