The streets were clogged with traffic, and the impatient drivers honked their horns and yelled for those in front of them to get out of the way. Running between the stalled flow of vehicles, people carried suitcases and bags stuffed with whatever they'd been able to grab when leaving their homes in haste.

Bruce spun the wheel of his car, pulling off the main road and taking a side street. He flinched as an explosion somewhere behind him went off; he didn't know what had been the cause, and he didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was getting home to his family.

An automated voice speaking from the dash mounted radio of his car was telling citizens to remain calm and proceed to the nearest quarantine areas for safe processing and evacuation from the city. The message had repeated several times already, but Bruce wasn't listening anymore. By the mass hysteria loose on the streets, the people weren't listening either.

Swerving hard to avoid a van speeding around the corner, tires squealing against the pavement, Bruce struck a curb but stayed on the road. Everyone on the street was driving as if they saw the Grim Reaper in their rear view mirror. Their reckless attitude had already resulted in a number of collisions, one of which still burned a block from his house.

Bruce ignored the flaming vehicles and the plumes of smoke rising into the sky as he jumped the curb and brought the car to a stop on his front lawn. Not wanting to risk getting out of the car and have a desperate person steal it, Bruce remained behind the wheel and honked the horn twice.

Emerging from the house with suitcases and a few bags, his wife and twin daughters rushed out to join him. Knowing they would never be back, they didn't bother to lock the front door or even shut it. When Bruce pulled the release for the trunk, his wife and kids stuffed in as many of their bags as would fit before slamming the trunk closed. The suitcases they still carried were shoved in the backseat with the two girls, and their mother climbed into the front seat with Bruce.

The moment the car doors shut, Bruce slammed his foot down on the gas. The extreme acceleration caused the car to momentarily lose traction, spitting dirt and grass out behind it before roaring off into the street.

"Where are we going?" Bruce's wife questioned. A slight quiver registered in her voice, but she tried to stray strong for her children.

"I don't know, Celine," he answered her. "We need to find some place safe, and we'll need more supplies."

"What about the evacuation centers in the quarantine areas?" Celine suggested, brushing a few loose strands of her coffee brown hair away from her face.

"No," Bruce denied. "The majority of people will be going there. More people means a greater chance one will be infected. Packed so closely together, when an outbreak does occur, it'll spread like fire in a dry field. What those things don't get, the people in mindless panic will."

Bruce took care not to use words like undead, walking corpses, or zombies around his children. They'd been kept in the dark for the most part, and he didn't want them tainted by the horrors the world was descending into. The only monsters they knew about were in fairy tales, and the good guys always prevailed against them. He wouldn't take that belief from his kids if he could help it.

Sparing a glance in the rear view mirror, he looked at the twins, his little angels. Slender faces with gleaming blue eyes framed by a cascade of dark curls, the matching ten year olds were miniature versions of their mother.

Clara sat behind Bruce and stared out the window at the rising smoke columns and passing helicopters, fascinated by the activity but remaining unafraid of it because she lacked any knowledge of the cause.

Situated on the opposite side of a small pile of suitcases, Kate had her nose stuck in a book. Unlike her sister Clara, Kate had no interest in the chaos of the outside world as she preferred the make-believe realm of her stories.

Bruce returned his focus to the road ahead. He knew he'd been right about avoiding the quarantine zones where the police and military were evacuating the civilian population. Too many people crowded in small areas would make it a nightmare to escape if something went wrong. A realization dawned on him. If large crowds were dangerous, the safest place to go was where there were no people at all. Taking a sharp turn, he headed deeper into the city.

"I know that look," Celine commented. "I've been married to you for twelve years, and I can tell when you have an idea."

"Everyone is leaving the city, taking the main problem with them," Bruce said, choosing his words carefully. "If the cities are empty, they could provide a safe haven."

"If they're empty," Celine repeated for emphasis. "If there are any lingering traces of the problem, we wouldn't have any help."

"I know," Bruce admitted. "It's a gamble, but I don't see a certainty anywhere else, do you?"

"No," Celine answered after a thoughtful moment.

"Then it's settled," Bruce stated. "To the city we go."

***

Bruce had left his old job when he got married. Celine had pointed out a career in demolition wasn't the safest of jobs, and she desperately wanted him to be around for the years ahead of them. Seeing the girls in the back seat let him know he'd made the right decision, but he realized he'd have to rely on the skills of his old job to protect his family from harm.

Staying anywhere on ground level wasn't an option for Bruce as he fully expected any defense he put in place to be compromised by the undead. Nothing he could rig in the short time he had available would hold them back, so he had to plan for the zombies getting in wherever he took his family. His line of reasoning made finding a safe haven much more complicated.

Bruce turned into a driveway and stopped in front of a gate made of black iron bars. Inserting his keycard into the reader on the pedestal outside his window, he unlocked the gate and triggered the mechanism to retract the barrier from his path. The power was still working, and the gate moved aside for him. Pressing the accelerator, Bruce drove quickly inside the spacious parking lot for his business.

The company for which Bruce worked was involved in demolitions, but rather than being out in the field setting the charges on buildings and bridges needing to be scraped, Bruce was now in charge of the men who went out and did the work. The job let him stay in the profession where he had the most experience, but it made sure he came home to his family every night.

A separate building from the main office, on the far side of the parking lot, held explosives in a heavily reinforced vault. Rather than park next to the explosives he would need, Bruce stopped the car in front of the main office, a tower of gleaming steel and glass. His company didn't own the entire building, but their corporate offices were on the fifth floor, ideally suited for his purposes.

"I want you to stay in the car with your mother until I get back," Bruce instructed after waiting to be sure the gate closed again. "You girls be good now. I'll be right back as soon as I check out a few things upstairs."

"Stay safe," Celine bid to her husband, imparting a quick but loving kiss on his lips.

Bruce exited the car and entered the building. The lobby of the office building was not only beautiful, it was lavishly expensive, designed to show off the fact the companies who had their headquarters here were very successful. Blue marble, marked with veins of pure white, covered the floors, walls, and the three pillars on both sides of the room. Ignoring the opulence, Bruce searched around for something more dangerous, signs of rot and decay.

He checked behind the reception desk and everywhere else he could think about where the undead might hide. He moved swiftly but remained meticulous enough so as to not miss anything. He'd check the building completely after they got set up, but for right now, Bruce was determined to make certain he could safely bring in his family without any nasty surprises waiting for them.

When the lobby had been cleared, Bruce entered one of the elevators at the far end of the room. As he waited for the metal box to rise to the proper floor, he got a look at himself in the mirrored wall of the elevator. The sky blue shirt he wore was stained under the arms from perspiration, turning it darker. His brown hair, a shade lighter than his wife's, was messy and as unruly as his loosened necktie. He thought he looked the same as any overworked businessman under enormous stress.

The doors opened, and Bruce waited a moment to see if anything would try to come in the elevator with him. When fairly certain he was alone, he started a search of his floor, checking the conference room, break rooms, individual offices, and even the storage and janitorial closets. They were empty and clear.

Bruce leaned heavily on one of the desks, breathing hard. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to slow his racing heart. He forced himself away from the desk and back toward the elevator. His family was still unsecured in the car down below, and he had to being them to safety before something got to them.

***

"Thank God!" Celine exclaimed when she saw Bruce emerge from the building alive and well.

Bruce hurried to the car, helping his family get out and gather their belongings. He urged them along, insisting they move with greater speed. They had been fortunate up until now to have encountered not a single living soul, or anything else, but Bruce was unwilling to risk staying in the open. He ushered his family into the building and up the elevator, taking them to his office floor.

They piled their suitcases and bags in the conference room on top of and around the shiny black table reaching from one end of the room to the other. The swivel chairs surrounding the table were also appropriated for the depositing of their possessions.

"What are we doing here?" Celine whispered to Bruce when out of range of their daughters. "They can still follow us up here."

"I know," Bruce acknowledged. "I'm going to set a few things in place and make a run to town."

"You're not going to leave us here?" Celine questioned, her voice a fast paced whisper.

"I'll rig the stairs with explosives before I go," Bruce promised. "If anyone or anything threatens to come up while I'm gone, you can blow the stairs and seal off everything from the second floor up."

Celine didn't say anything further, but Bruce could read the tension in the muscles along the sides of her neck and the fear in her eyes. The idea of Bruce heading into a city quickly falling into anarchy was not a welcome thought, but being left as the sole provider for two children while being surrounded by the undead was even less palatable. To her credit, Celine managed to hold her emotions together. Tears rimmed her eyes as she asked him one final question. "What do you want me to do?"