Chapter 3

3.

It was 2:03 PM. The next flight to Oakhaven left at 2:55 PM. I had less than an hour.

I felt like I was literally racing death. Modern technology was a lifesaver; the ride that used to take an hour now felt like a sprint.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears as I rushed through security.

The agent eyed me suspiciously, scanning me multiple times before letting me through.

Inside, I didn't stop, running as if a ghost were nipping at my heels.

The subways were packed. I ditched the escalator and took the stairs, two at a time.

The next train was leaving in two minutes.

I kept my eyes glued to my phone, heartbeat erratic.

I was three hundred yards from the platform when a man stumbled into my path. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, his hands clawing at his throat.

His skin was a sickly, bruised gray. He was gasping, making a horrible, wet choking sound.

"Help… me…"

He was so close I could see the blackened veins pulsing beneath his skin.

He blocked my way, his face twisted in a look of sheer, sub-human agony that made my skin crawl.

"Move! Don't look at him!"

Security guards and transit cops swarmed the area, yelling.

I didn't stick around. I bolted.

As the subway doors hissed shut, I saw the man get swarmed. Police used riot shields to pin him down, and guards used zip ties to bind his limbs.

I wasn't wrong. He was twitching exactly like the monsters in the videos.

Zombies were real.

I collapsed against the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.