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When Kyle finally stopped, Chet just lay there with his eyes closed, a bloody pulp between his legs. There was no possible way Chet could still be conscious, or even alive. After what Kyle had just done to him, he had to be dead, and might return at any moment.

Kyle reached into the truck and retrieved some yellow nylon rope. It had been a while since he had last tied a noose, but once he got started, it all came back to him. He placed the noose over Chet’s head and tightened it. He tied the other end to the truck.

Worried that he might make too much noise and attract more of the Existing Dead, Kyle quickly began to load everything he could into the truck. Chet had stolen everything from Kyle and Victor. If Kyle hadn’t found him, there was no way he and Victor would have survived. Chet didn’t have much; just a few scraps of food, a Swiss army knife, and an assortment of rounds that didn’t fit any of the guns they had.

A faint rustling in the woods startled him. He quickly ran into the truck and took out rounds for the Glock. He loaded the magazine quickly but carefully. He couldn’t afford to get a pistol jam right now. Existing Dead began to emerge from the woods. There had to have been at least a dozen of them, in all different shapes and sizes. He reached for the ignition and noticed that the keys were missing. He hung his head down in defeat and sighed.

Kyle opened the door and ran toward Chet. His eyes were beginning to open. He bent down and started patting around the pockets of his coat. The blood everywhere was the least of his worries right now. Quickly glancing behind him, he saw that the dead were growing both in distance and numbers. The keys were not in Chet’s coat. Kyle started feeling around Chet’s pants pockets and finally felt the keys. Reaching for them, Chet tried to sit up and began gnashing at Kyle. Kyle held him down by the forehead as he fumbled for the keys. It would have been a lot easier if he wasn’t in a panic. He retrieved the keys and punched Chet in the side of the head.

The other dead were mere feet away. Kyle hopped into the truck and started it. The engine roared as he put it in drive and accelerated. The dead bounced out of the way like bowling pins. He tried not to hit them, as that would cause unnecessary damage to the truck. There was an opening up ahead, but then he realized that he was heading in the wrong direction.

“Will I ever catch a fucking break?” he said as he began to make a U-turn. Chet’s zombified body dragged behind the truck as it maneuvered. Kyle stared into the collection of Existing Dead, trying to find the best place to try and push through them. And just as if his prayers were answered, all of the creatures in front of him collapsed. The eeriness of the synchronized fall startled him. Not even the best choreographers in the world would manage such a synced fall. All of the dead now lay motionless on the ground. He stared at the scene, not sure what to make of it. He opened the door and stepped outside.

Chet’s body was motionless as well. It lay perfectly still like a statue, like a rock. Kyle peered into the bucket that housed the half-head. Its eyes were no longer following Kyle. Could it be true? Had all of them somehow died?

Chapter Fifteen

Kyle stepped back into the truck and turned on the radio receiver. He scrolled through the channels, hoping to find something, anything. He turned it to AM and flipped through channels. Every station on AM was coming in as clear as day. The only strange thing was that it was all the same thing.

“I am broadcasting on every AM frequency possible from a radius of thirty miles. This is Doctor Theodore Greenly, lead researcher … only researcher left alive.”

Kyle eyes widened. What were the odds that something strange had happened to the dead and Doctor Greenly was back on the radio? He had been intrigued the last time he’d heard Doctor Greenly on air, mostly because Greenly’s was the only program that had given him any form of information. He listened in while Doctor Greenly continued.

“This is no conference call. I am in my lab and have about twenty minutes of generator power left. I will say what I have to say, then place this recording on an endless loop. We all know the devastation this phenomenon has caused. We know that the world is at its breaking point. The dead have come back to life with absolutely no explanation as to why or how. Since this plague began I have been working with my colleagues to figure out a cause. As of this recording I can honestly say that there is no cause. There’s nothing that we can see microscopically. Every time we tried, we saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. Except for today. The Existing Dead have stopped moving. All over town, perhaps the nation, I have been seeing them collapse. I dragged one of them into my lab for research. What I have discovered is astonishing. The Existing Dead have begun to evolve … I am broadcasting on every AM frequency possible from a radius of thirty miles. This is Doctor Theodore Greenly, lead researcher … only researcher left alive.”

Kyle stared at the radio, dumbfounded. The recording was starting to loop. What the hell did Doctor Greenly mean by them evolving? He scrolled through the stations again and continued getting the same message. He listened to the entire thing again as it looped for a second time after the word ‘evolve.’

He turned the radio off and gazed out of the windshield. The Existing Dead were still scattered all over the ground. He put the truck in drive and slowly moved forward. He felt the truck lurch as it dragged Chet’s body behind it. The drive became bumpy once he started riding over bodies. There was nothing else he could do. He needed to head in that direction.

Clearing the mountain of death, Kyle glanced into his rearview mirror. He still wondered why the dead had just collapsed the way they had, but he needed to get back to Victor. He had the medicine they had taken from the gas station in the truck. Hopefully there was something in there that would take the edge off for him. Kyle couldn’t possibly imagine what being raped would feel like.

The drive back to the post office was quick. At least it felt that way, since Kyle wasn’t running like a man on fire. He pulled up next to the sign where he’d parked the truck before and stepped outside. He grabbed some supplies and a few rags then picked up the shotgun from the bed. He held it barrel down to drain as much blood out of it as possible. Before he could fire the gun again, it needed to be cleaned. Kyle didn’t have any oil, but he had to make do with what he had.

The door to the post office was wide open. He fumbled with the items in his hands and reached for the Glock holstered at his waist. Pointing it forward, Kyle slowly walked toward the door. In his rage, he couldn’t remember if he had left it open.

“Victor?” Kyle said as he walked into the post office.

The fire in the metal trashcan had almost completely extinguished. It threw the last remaining embers into the sky before Kyle threw another cardboard box into the fire in hopes that it’ll catch again. He searched the room for any movement. “Victor,” he said calling to the boy for any form of contact. He raised the Glock forward and crept to the post office sales counter.

“Victor,” he whispered.

He peered over the counter and Victor’s legs were still motionless on the floor. Kyle jumped over the counter and headed toward the boy. He removed the curtains that gave him a little bit of decency. The blood around the boy had dried and begun to turn brown.

He nudged Victor’s body in an attempt to wake him. “Victor,” he said, shaking him a bit harder. “It’s time to get up, bud. I got a surprise for you.”

The boy did not move, and Kyle began to panic. “Victor!” he yelled shaking him violently. “Wake up, come on …” His heart raced and his belly began to grumble as if telling him that it was time to empty out its contents.