Jake Morrison's Arc

Chapter 1 of 54

Jake Morrison had emptied a thousand containers behind this strip mall. He knew the routine cold: lower the forks, lift the bin, dump, drop. But today the city was falling apart around him, and Jake had one plan left. Get his truck out of the alley and find someplace safe before the sick things reached him. They roamed everywhere now, biting people, turning them into more of themselves. Jake drove garbage for a living. He never signed up to be a hero. Then he heard the screaming. He looked up from the cab. A goth girl backed against a shop window, hands raised. In front of her crouched one of them. Gray skin. Yellow eyes. Torn clothes hanging off a twisted body. Blood ran from its mouth. Behind the girl lay two others, torn open on the sidewalk. Her friends, Jake guessed. She was screaming a name he didn't catch. Jake didn't think. He slammed the truck into gear and stomped the pedal. The engine roared. Fifteen tons of steel lunged forward. The creature turned its head one second before the front bumper hit. The truck crushed it against the brick wall with a wet crunch. Jake felt the whole cab shudder. Then silence, except the girl's ragged breathing. He threw open the door and jumped down. "You bit? Are you bit?" She stared at him with wide dark eyes. Her nose hoop caught the light. "No. No, I'm fine." Her voice shook. "They got Danny. They got everyone." "What's your name?" "Marisol." She wiped her face with a shaking hand. "You just ran that thing over with a garbage truck." "Yeah. Come on. We're not staying here." Jake climbed back into the cab and cranked the wheel. He hit the gas. The truck lurched a foot, then stopped hard. Metal groaned. He tried reverse. The tires spun. The dead creature and the wall had wedged the front end tight. His way out was gone. "Move, come on," he muttered, rocking the truck forward and back. Nothing. The engine whined. Down the alley, three more shapes stepped into view, drawn by the noise. Then a fourth. Jake killed the engine. His only vehicle was now a trap. "Change of plan." He grabbed the crowbar from behind his seat and dropped down beside Marisol. "We run." They ran along the storefronts. Marisol pointed at a shop with a dark window full of TVs and radios. "There. The door's open." Jake shoved inside first, dragging her after him. He kicked the door shut and threw the deadbolt. Together they dragged a heavy shelf across it, then a second. The things outside slammed into the glass. It held. Jake pressed his back to the shelf and caught his breath. Marisol slid to the floor, shaking. They were safe for now. But they were trapped inside, with no truck and no way out.