Pedro Morais

Mr. Phillips
09/06/14
Short Story

Jack had been on the road for what seemed like a century, alone, getting fuel whenever he
needed from the abandoned gas stations along the way. "The apocalypse sure has its
advantages," he pondered, stroking his graying beard. Suddenly, the car came to a halt, and
wouldn't turn on. "Damn it," Jack thought to himself, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.
"I'll have to go the rest of the way on foot." The journey would be hard, but he was determined to
find his brother, Henry. Luckily, he was almost there.

Two miles separated Jack and the quarantined zone which his brother was supposedly in.
Everywhere he looked, Jack saw broken windows, vines and weeds, and cars astray on the
streets. Everything looked solemn, reminding him that it was a world without hope. Discouraged
by the thought, Jack considered giving up, but the idea of meeting his brother gave him the
strength he needed to keep going.

3 more blocks and he would make it to the quarantine. Suddenly, he heard a truck. Knowing
that the people driving it were either militaries or bandits, and that either one would kill anyone
they saw out in the open, Jack ran towards the nearest building.

The moment Jack entered the building, he realized it was a mistake. There were about fifteen
infected, ready to kill anyone at a moments notice. He tried to sneak behind the nearest
counter, but stepped on a piece of glass. He had triggered a bomb. Immediately, the infected
flung themselves at Jack. Knowing it was the end, he closed his eyes.

Gunfire rained down on the infected like an angel from the heavens. Turning around to see his
savior, Jack rejoiced.

Its damn good to see you again, said Henry.