Charles keep searching for radio station, finally he found one that wasn’t static. It was a recorded government official warning. Turning the volume up him and his father listened. His face contorted into confusion and disbelief. The message said something about a virus and to avoid all fluids from infected individuals and said to kill on sight with a shot to the head. He wasn’t sure what it all meant yet but it was serious.
“Dad. We have to get home to mom!” Charles senior nodded, he was already picking up speed. From the back seat Charles Jr. grabbed one of their shotguns, his Remington 870. This may be a situation where his father’s red neck personality may have saved them.
Moments later they arrived at home. Their front door, made of glass was broken into. They both entered the house cautiously. Their boots crunching the broken glass around them may have notified their presence to anyone that might be in the house. There was an audible click as both father and son loaded their weapons.
“Angela honey?” Movement from upstairs. Charles moved onto the first few step on the stairs with his gun raised. There was definitely somebody up there. He saw a figure of a man come forward. “Who are you?” The figure’s head snapped to the side. His skin was torn and bloody, hair matted with blood, eyes bloodshot and soul-less looked directly at Charles. “Stop!” He didn’t obey. Briskly the man walked down the stairs so mechanically. Charles could now see his face. It was Bobby an old high school friend that he had not seen in years. “Bobby?!” Nothing. One warning shot into the wall. No acknowledgment. He was almost upon him when a shot rang out hitting the man square in the chest. Charles Jr. stood there motionless, stuck in fear. When Bobby started to get up again, he knew that there was something very wrong. “I’m sorry,” aiming his gun at his friend’s head he fired.
“CHARLES?” It came from upstairs. Without thinking both of the men sprinted up the stairs towards Angela. They found her in the master bedroom revolver in her hand. She was bloodied and battered.
“Angela! What’s going on?” his father asked running towards her.
“Wait! Don’t come any closer!” His father didn’t listen but his mother scrambled away to the corner and pointed the gun at her husband. “Don’t. I’m infected,” she said gun shaking in her hand. “Don’t get bit, don’t get any blood in you. I love you both so much, and I’m sorry. Goodbye.” Quickly she turned the revolver onto herself and pulled the trigger.
Charles senior ran towards his wife, holding her in his arms anguish evident on his face. “Angela. Oh Angela.”
The younger Charles looked on in horror. “No. I can’t-" he said running out of the house towards the main area of the town.
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