Ficly

A Route To Escape

I pull out the map from my pocket.
“We need to keep moving east. Do you know if anything’s left over on the north side of the Eastern Seaboard?”
“Er… Steve got a signal near Interstate 85 outside Montgomery. Atlanta’s a no go, I think.”
“New York, DC, Baltimore. They’re all gone, we know that. Richmond and on to West Point?”

It was dark and the stars were out, but when eyes are all you have you get very good at using them.
“That’s a helicopter over there, Jess!”
“Pop a flare, quick!”
With a practised motion I drew the flaregun and checked the clip, with three red flares already loaded. I cocked and fired all three in rapid succession, resulting in a triple blossom of red in the night sky. Zombies in all directions looked up, but the flares were already behind us as Jess slipped into a quieter gear.

The helicopter transport even turned back on us, almost guiltily, but carried on without a pause. The quiet whirr dwindled to nothing. I slumped in my seat, hope drained out of me. Jess kept driving grimly.

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