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Is it still alive?”
    One of
the men regarded Kenneth and gave the slightest of shrugs. “Not alive mister
but still moving.” He stepped over to it, nudging the face with his boot. The
mouth immediately tried to bite through the thick leather. “Determined little
shit, isn’t it?”
    “Keep
moving,” ordered the supervising officer. “Inside the bus and sit down.”
    Kenneth
and Barbara entered and made their way past the driver and down the aisle. He
was sitting on top of plastic sheeting. The seat beneath was splattered with
blood.
    “Hurry
on up! More are coming, and we need to go.”
    Finding
a spot in the rear, they stared out the window as the tiny convoy started
moving. A single police car took point, followed by their bus and two more cars
in the rear. The one furthermost back stopped suddenly, the officer inside
rolling down the window and motioning for some kids to run over and join him.
They looked to be thirteen or fourteen, or something thereabouts. He got all
three into his back seat before speeding up to rejoin his fellows.
    “How
many people do you think are being left behind?”
    “I don’t
know Barbara. There are so many…” He closed his eyes. “So many walking around
the streets. I don’t think that many people could even reach us.”
    “Some
might be trying to get to the police station like we did. They’ll find it
empty.”
    “Not
empty ma’am.” One of the officers was standing at the very back of the bus. “We
have people staying behind. They have cars and can follow. In the meantime,
they’ll be tending the radio and loading up gear. If anyone else heads there,
we’ll take care of em.”
     
    *
* *
     
    They
spent the afternoon and evening in an unfurnished cabin. It was uncomfortable
and musty, but secure. Additional refugees joined them, along with more law
enforcement officials from a variety of departments and towns. They’d also
received news of safe zones being established by the military with more to
come, but none were within easy reach. There were plenty of guns however, and
no shortage of volunteers who knew how to use them. Patrols and watches were
quickly established. The biggest problem was food. Calls had gone out on the
radio, and a trucker was apparently en route with a load of stuff originally
destined for a grocery store. Unfortunately, it would be the next day before he
arrived, at best. Until then they would have to do without.
     
    *
* *
     
    “Okay,”
began a man in uniform, one Kenneth had not seen previously, “here’s what’s
happening. The world is a wreck. This hit everywhere and all at once. The
cities seem to be the worst off, so we are not going anywhere near one. The
official orders are to evacuate them whenever possible. Small towns seem to be
doing better. No grumbling. I know most of you came from such places that were
falling apart with plenty, if not most, dead. Understand, from what I’m
hearing, the big cities are far, far worse.”
    The
muttering died down as that sunk in.
    “We have
several more groups heading this way, and we’re in communication with others.
As soon as I got any more news or find out what’s going to happen, I’ll let all
of you know.”
    “How
many are dead?” asked a man.
    The
speaker hesitated. “We don’t know, but it’s at least in the tens of millions,
for the United States. This number is going up too, and it’ll get a whole lot
higher before this is over.”
     
    *
* *
     
    They
remained at the Nebraska state police training ground for nearly a week. During
that time, their numbers increased significantly, some brought by rescue
personnel, others wandering in on their own. The stories they told were
horrific, and it quickly became clear that the death toll was, or soon would
be, nearly the entirety of the population.
    After it
was learned that bites were fatal, and that those who died from the infection would
return as a zombie seven minutes later, a new policy was instituted. All
newcomers had