"What? She went to the hospital?" David asked, his face paling. Then the realization hit him.
"Damn it. I should've known she'd go looking for him." He pulled out his phone again—no signal.
"Does your phone have service?" he asked Naela.
She checked. "No. They're gone."
"Shit." He stood abruptly. "I'm going back. Don't leave this place. I'll bring her back," he said, then ran out the door without another word.
Hope clutched Naela's hand. "Naela, I'm scared."
"Don't worry, honey," Naela said, watching the door. "David will bring your mom and dad back."
Sarah's Perspective
Her fingers trembled as she lowered the phone. No answer.
Matthew's voice had cut off too quickly. She'd heard something—gunshots? Screaming? No. She wasn't imagining it. She called again. Nothing. Then the emergency alert came:"...avoid hospitals. Emergency rooms are overwhelmed with the infected. Remain indoors…"Her stomach twisted.
"Mom?"
Hope's voice jolted her.
"There was a voice on TV… it told us to stay inside. Then the channels all stopped."
Sarah crouched to Hope's level, brushing her hair gently behind her ear.
"It's okay, baby. Mommy has to check something, alright?"
"Is Daddy okay?" Sarah couldn't lie, not with Hope's eyes so wide. But she couldn't tell her the truth either.
"I'm going to find him."
She stood, grabbed her purse, phone, and car keys, then turned to Naela, who had just entered the room.
"I need you to watch her. Don't let her go outside, no matter what."
Naela looked alarmed. "Where are you going?"
"To the hospital. Something's wrong. I can feel it."
"Sarah—wait. The news said—"
"I know what the news said. I also know my husband and David are there."
Naela's lips tightened, but she nodded. "Be careful."
The streets were already starting to change.
Sarah drove with purpose, weaving through lanes, ignoring red lights. The further she got from home, the worse it became—sirens in the distance, people rushing down sidewalks, some buildings already shut tight.
She was halfway to Grady Memorial when the jam hit her.
A line of cars stretched down the freeway, horns blaring, engines idling. No one moved. Sarah craned her neck, phone pressed to her ear again.
Still nothing.
Frustrated, she threw the door open and stepped into the heat.
She walked a few cars up, trying to see what was causing the holdup. That's when she heard it.
Screaming.
A crowd surged from up ahead—dozens of people sprinting in full panic, barreling toward her as if the devil himself was at their heels.
"Go! GO!" someone shouted.
Sarah stumbled back as the wave passed her, people shouting, pushing. Then she saw them.
Shapes, dragging themselves through the chaos. Bloody. Fast. One of them pounced on a man who tripped, biting into his neck as he shrieked.
"Oh my God…"
She turned and bolted for her car, slammed the door shut, and killed the engine.
Panting, she ducked low in her seat, trying to steady her breath. The infected—if that's what they were—spread out, searching. A few brushed by her car, sniffing, snarling, but passed without notice. They followed the sounds of screams and crashing metal.
Sarah exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes, whispering a quiet prayer.
Then the passenger door opened.
She gasped, flinching away. A man jumped in, slammed the door, and locked it.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" he said, breathless. "I swear, I didn't think anyone was inside."
Sarah blinked at him, stunned.
"They were all over me. I had nowhere else to go. You saved my life, seriously."
Her eyes darted to the infected outside, now turning toward the car.
"What did you do?" she whispered.
"I—look, I'm sorry, okay? They were about to tear me apart." He glanced back, then added quickly, "Let me drive. I can get us out of here."
"What?"
"I said—let me drive."
He didn't wait. He slid into her seat like it was his, and Sarah, heart pounding, didn't resist. He revved the engine and began inching the car forward, nudging through the jammed traffic.
"Don't worry about the dents," he said, flashing a nervous smile. "I own a garage. I'll fix it up for free later—if there's a later."
She gripped the side of the seat as the car scraped past bumpers and pushed stalled vehicles aside.
"Where are you taking us?"
"Away from here."
"No—I need to go to Grady Memorial."
He shook his head. "That place is getting cleansed. Soldiers are already there—home guards. They're not helping people anymore. They're clearing the buildings."
Sarah stared at him in disbelief. "Cleansed?"
"They're shooting anyone who looks infected. Anyone who moves wrong. I barely got out myself."
"You don't know that."
"I do," he said. "Phone lines are dropping. News is gone. And they're silencing anyone who tries to leak what's happening."
She checked her phone again.
No signal.
Her stomach sank.
"I need to go there. My husband's there."
He looked at her, pained. "I get it. But that's suicide."
"I need to go to my husband." She was determined.
"Lady—"
"My name is Sarah."
He sighed, pulling over once they were a few blocks away from the chaos.
"Sarah… I'm telling you this because I've seen what's out there. You go into that building alone, you might not come back out. There are infected in the hospitals. It's not just a rumor."
"I'm not asking for permission."
He stared at her. And after a beat, he nodded. He stopped the car at the side, looked around and quietly got out. He then peeked inside.
"God help you, then." He said and closed the door, walking away quietly.
She didn't look back. Changed her seat and took a U-turn and rode towards the hospital.