"No!" replied Al. "They'll jam the truck and then we'll be fucked!"

Just then Al swerved the truck to the right to avoid a small crowd of the undead walking aimlessly in the middle of the street. He missed the zombies but didn't anticipate the stalled tractor-trailer that was parked along the curb. The right side of the step van they were in then collided with the trailer.

He lost control of the step van and it fell on its left side, sliding about forty feet before stopping. Carla fell on top of Al and Al's face hit the windshield. He was bleeding from several cuts to the face but Carla only suffered a bruised head and sore neck.

"You fucken asshole!" shouted Carla. "Now look what you did!"

"Get off me!" shouted Al. "I've got to get out of here before they get me."

They then heard the shuffling feet and moans of the undead coming towards the van. Al quickly climbed over Carla and lifted himself out of the van. Carla was right behind him swearing at him as she climbed out. Both of them began running towards the direction of the shelter approximately one and a half-miles away.

Although everywhere, the undead were spread apart, making it easy for the two to run past them. Carla, a twenty-eight year old, blond, former electrician, was having difficulty keeping up with Al. She hated working with him because of how cowardly he was.

"He always panics and fucks up everything," thought Carla.

Carla never enjoyed running that much. The extra weight of her tool belt and assault rifle made it more difficult. As the two ran across a freeway over pass she could see the hundreds of abandoned cars littering the freeway. Every time she saw that freeway she thought about all those motorists that must have been attacked while trying to leave the city.

While running she could see that Al was beginning to tire. The initial rush of adrenaline had worn off. He had spent too much time in a panic run that he was beginning to lose energy. He could barely make it past the out-stretched hands of the ghouls that were trying to grab him as he ran by.

After ten minutes of running. The shelter was finally within sight. Carla then took a moment and spoke into her portable radio.

"Open the back gate," she said almost out of breath.

"You are supposed to come in through the front entrance," replied a voice from the radio.

"I don't have time to fuck around," said Carla. "The van's totaled and we're on foot. Just open the back gate."

"There are no gunners there," said the voice on the radio. "You'll have to take care of any ghouls hanging around there yourself."

"Fine, fine, just open the fucken gate!" shouted Carla.

As they approached the rear of the shelter they could see that there were only a few ghouls hanging around. Most of the ghouls near the shelter stayed at the front entrance because of the on going movement there.

When they were within a hundred feet of the rear fence, the motorized chain link gate, which was approximately forty feet in length, started to slowly open. Al and Carl then ran into the rear lot while the gate was still opening. The gate had to fully open before it could be closed again. Al ran to the rear door, which was about thirty feet from the gate, and immediately attempted to punch in the combination code.

"The door won't open!" shouted Al.

"You probably punched in the wrong combo, idiot," said Carla. "Wait ten seconds and it will reset itself."

"No time!" shouted Al.

Al then pointed his rifle barrel at the combination pad. Before Carla could protest what he was doing Al had already fired several rounds into it.

The combination pad sparked and shorted out.

"You moron!" shouted Carla. "Now you jammed the lock."

Carla then spoke into her portable and said," Al jammed the lock. Send someone to open rear door from the inside."

"They're on the way," replied the voice on the radio.

At this time a small crowd of ghouls were slowly approaching the gate entrance. Carla was relieved to see that the gate was starting to close. As long as the gate secured the lot, those things couldn't get it. One of the ghouls, a decomposing male wearing construction workers clothing, started walking towards the closing gate.

"Hold your fire Al," ordered Carla. "I'll take it out when it gets in past the gate."

But Al ignored her and fired a full clip into the ghoul. The first half of the clip hit the ghoul in the chest. The rest of the rounds rose upward and found their mark in the ghoul's head. The ghoul fell backwards landing onto the gate track. The gate hit the ghoul's body and was unable to close shut. This left an eight foot opening in the gate. The crowd of ghouls that saw the two survivors run into the lot made their way towards the opening and began shuffling in.

Seeing the ghouls entering the lot, Carla unslung her rifle and adjusted it to semi-auto. She then carefully aimed into the heads of the approaching ghouls and started firing slow, but accurate shots into their heads. She dropped the first six with precision accuracy.

Al on the other hand panicked. He fired at the advancing ghouls with his rifle still set on full automatic. He managed to drop one before his rifle jammed.

"Shit, shit, shit!" shouted Al. He then dropped his rifle and started pounding on the rear door.

Carla continued firing at the approaching ghouls. Their bodies started piling up. Where one fell another would just walk over it towards it's prey. After firing a full clip set on semi-auto, Carla's rifle was empty.

"Shit!" shouted Carla. She dropped the empty magazine and started fumbling around for another. She couldn't remember where on her belt she had put the extras.

She knew that it would be quicker to pull another weapon than to reload so she dropped her rifle and pulled her pistol from her shoulder holster and continued firing. Accuracy with the pistol was more difficult and she had to wait until the zombies were within seven yards for an accurate head shot.

After she fired her fifteenth round from the pistol, its slide locked back, indicating that it was empty. Carla dropped its magazine, but unlike the rifle, she knew that the extra magazines for the pistol were underneath her right armpit. She quickly reloaded. Just as she released the slide on the pistol a ghoul grabbed her face with his decomposing hand.