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nice and tight.”  She winced as he did as she asked.
    “Sorry, is it too tight?”
    “No, it’s fine.  I’ll be fine.”  She looked at him, with determination in her eyes.  He could see that she was lying though.  Her face had drained of all colour, she had lost too much blood already.
    “Can you stand?” he asked.
    “I don’t really have much choice, do I?”  She offered a small smile, before she was racked with another coughing fit.
    “Here, lean on me, I can help.”
    “You’re such a good boy.”  She reached up and stroked his face.  He looped his arm under hers and around her back, to support her.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    “Yep.”  She stood, shakily.  Zeke shifted his grip so he could support more of her weight.
    “Is there a back door?”
    “No, I don’t think so.  We’re going to have to walk out the front.”
    “But…”
    “Listen, my husband just died.  They’re not going to stop us.  Just make sure you cover my arm with yours, like you’re consoling me.”
    “Okay.”  He gathered her in his arms, and guided her to the exit.  He paused, letting her cough, before opening the door.  He stuck his head out, looking both ways to see if anyone was coming.  “Coast is clear.”
    Mary nodded.  She shuffled her feet along with Zeke.  Her body was hunched over and shaking.  She began to sob, quietly at first, gradually increasing in volume, the closer they got to reception.  Zeke pulled her in tighter, resting his head on hers.
    “It’s going to be okay, Ma,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.  “We’re going to be okay.”
    Mary had been right, people were giving them a wide berth.  The front door was within his sights.  Only a few more steps.
    “Mary?  What’s happened?”  Somebody stepped in front of them.  “You look terrible.”  Mary sniffed, looked up with wet eyes, and began to wail.  A heart-breaking sound that would haunt Zeke for the rest of his life.  He pulled himself together and held her tighter, stepping around the wide-eyed do-gooder.
    “Sorry, I need to get her home.”  They shuffled out the door, making a beeline for their car.
    The clouds had turned black and the first drops of rain were beginning to fall.  Zeke unlocked the passenger door, helping Mary to climb in.  He strapped her seat belt on for her, careful not to knock her arm.  Blood was already beginning to seep through the make-shift bandage.  He was worried that she wouldn’t make it.
    “We can re-dress it back home,” she said, drawing his attention back to her face.  “I’m feeling a little faint, so you might have to do it for me.”
    “I’ve never fixed anything that big before.  What do I need to do?”
    “Start driving and I’ll talk you through it.”
    Her voice was raspy and weak.  He had to strain to listen to her words.  He kept thinking about his father.  Had he been like this before he had slipped into the coma?  Every coughing fit seemed to deplete her energy, and she was getting paler by the second.
    Another thought occurred to him.  If she was sick too, did that mean he was next?  Was it safe for them to be alone on the farm?
    And what if they turned into ‘flesh eaters’ like his father?  He had seen enough zombie movies to know one when he saw one.  He just never imagined he would actually witness a ‘real’ one.  They were meant to be a work of fiction!  Not something you watch your father become.
    He looked at Mary.  She was fading fast.
    What if she turned?
    What would he do then?
     

Chad
    “W e need to get out of here!” Zuckerman yelled at Chad over the chaos on the bus.  He grabbed his shirt and yanked him down the aisle.
    “We can’t just leave them!”
    “We can’t do anything for them, man, we have to save ourselves!”
    Chad hesitated briefly before joining Zuckerman as they ran from the bus.  The screams of their team mates following them.  Chad fought his instincts to turn back and try to help, but he knew that