tawabids

May 3, 2008. 9:01 P.M.

Two dots of light drifted over Mohinder's eyes as he peered at an empty glass slide through his father's old microscope. He had been so used to the Company's sophisticated equipment that he had neglected his home microscope, allowing dust to settle and coat the device. Now it was his only means of study and he had to make sure it still worked. Thankfully, the bulb was still in working order and the lenses weren't cracked. As he brushed the dust off, he tried not to think about his increasingly strenuous relationship with Molly. A futile effort, to say the least. It bothered him that he had been right there for her, and Molly had still asked for Matt. He had rubbed her hair, pressed her close, assured her of her safety; everything that he had seen Matt do whenever she needed comfort. Why, then, had she pushed him away? Was he such a terrible father? It wasn't like he had the best example growing up. His father had been harsh, strict. His father had been almost completely detached from his emotions, replacing them with theories and research. Eager to please, Mohinder had followed that example and surged through his academic life, always keeping his emotions at a distance. But Matt certainly had a poor example as a father as well. Why did it come so naturally to Matt while he was left struggling? Maybe he was an inept parent.

But parenting had to be put aside, he reminded himself, because research beckoned. Mohinder snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began to carefully extract a chunk of coagulated blood he had taken from Estelle's apartment. Although he knew that the virus wasn't airborne, he couldn't help but hold his breath as he passed the specimen under his nose and onto the glass slide. He placed another glass slide over the chunk of blood and pressed down, squishing it into a morbid pancake. He slid the specimen under the microscope and peered down into the lens. One thing was immediately apparent – this microscope would not help Mohinder find the answers he was looking for. It just wasn't sophisticated enough. Combined with the fact that other necessary equipment required to complete this type of research wasn't even in the apartment, Mohinder feared that his endeavor had already come to an end.

Despite the lack of detail in the image, there was something familiar there that sparked a glimmer of hope for Mohinder. It wasn't anything more than a feeling, really. A distant memory that tickled the back of his mind and urged him forward, but refused to reveal itself prematurely. Mohinder peered at the flattened chunk of blood and tried to find that wayward memory in the patterns of blood cells, but it did nothing more than tease him from the sidelines as he searched the specimen for answers.

But after a few minutes of aimless searching and wanton memory-beckoning, Mohinder was ready to give up. As a scientist, he was used to not having answers. Finding the solution to unanswered questions and making groundbreaking discoveries was second nature to him. Indeed, he liked the challenge of it. But he had always had a theory. He had always delved into projects with a well-researched equation in the hopes of finding the solution. Now he had nothing. He had no theory, no equation. The only information that was available to him was from the hasty and unreliable letter from Bob. He was staring at the specimen below, hoping that the answer would just jump out at him. It was an uncomfortable and frustrating situation to be in, but it was a situation that Mohinder knew how to fix. With renewed resolve, he pushed away his microscope and went looking for Matt.

A few minutes later...

“You can't be serious,” Matt said as he looked incredulously up at Mohinder. “You want to leave?”

“I can't do any useful research with the equipment I have here,” Mohinder replied calmly as he slipped into the seat across from Matt. Approaching this conversation with a calm rationality was intentional on Mohinder's part. He figured if he sounded like he had a well laid plan in the works, Matt would be more receptive. “If I can find out how this virus keeps the dead alive, maybe I can find a way to protect us. More than that, maybe I can find a cure.”

“So let me get this straight,” Matt replied mockingly, leaning towards Mohinder. “You want to go out of our apartment building, our safe apartment building, trek across the crowded and hostile streets of Brooklyn and march into Manhattan where you want to do research that you don't know will even yield any results. Sounds great.”

“I know it sounds a little far fetched...”

“It sounds like suicide!”

Mohinder sighed and cast his eyes toward the stained wood of the kitchen table. Rationality wasn't working out, so it was time to try a different tactic, one that he was certain would work: emotional manipulation. He felt like dirt for doing it, but it had to be done. “If we go, I can cure Molly of her nightmares,” he said simply. When cast his eyes back up and locked eyes with Matt, he knew that he had done the trick. The mocking lines of Matt's face had drooped into a contrast between a sudden hope and the sad acknowledgment that having hope would probably lead to disappointment.

“How?”

“Haitian pills.”

“What are those?”

“It's a medication that takes away a person's ability temporarily with no ill side effects. If what's happening to Molly really is an extension of her ability, than these pills will put an end to her nightmares. Look, Matt,” Mohinder continued, unwilling to let Matt's attention and his readiness to cooperate slip away. “We know that this virus is somehow Company related. If we go to my laboratory I'll have access to their files. I'll have access to their equipment and I'll have access to the Haitian pills. Our time in this building was always finite. We would have had to leave eventually, so why not now while we have the chance?”

Matt looked thoughtful but remained noncommittal. “What about food? We have plenty of food here--”

“Most of which has now gone bad,” Mohinder pointed out. “Most of the food in this building is perishable. The Company purchased the building where my laboratory is and outfitted an employee cafeteria on the ground floor. They must be stockpiled with canned goods.” The thoughtful silence that followed this was longer than before. Mohinder could see Matt's internal debate playing out on his tired face, and could tell when one side had finally won over the other. Matt looked up at Mohinder with decision in his eyes.

“We'll have to find a way not to die on the way...” It was less than enthusiastic, but it was finally a commitment.

Mohinder smiled in silent victory and rose from the table. “I suggest we leave as soon as possible. We should wait until we have more light, but should leave no later than tomorrow evening.” He flitted around the kitchen in an excited buzz, already starting to pack a few canned goods into a large tote.

“Woah, we can't just pack up and leave,” Matt interjected. “We need to plan a few things first. How are we going to get there? What route are we going to take?” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you even know how to use a gun?”

Mohinder continued to pack the tote, calling his answers over his shoulder. “Your car should still be in working order, I think I know which route to take and although I've never had any formal training, I know how to point and shoot.” Mohinder spun around and placed the almost filled tote on the table in front of Matt, his eyes shining with anticipation. “We should go and get Holly. I think she'll be excited to get out of here.”

***

Later that evening, the three adults sat huddled around a map of New York City. Holly's compliance had been surprisingly easy. “Anything to get out of this dump. I seriously don't know how you guys lived here so long,” she had said. Now they were trying to find the best route across the Upper New York Bay and into Manhattan.

“Why don't we just take the Brooklyn Bridge?” Holly suggested. “Your laboratory is in lower Manhattan, right? The Brooklyn Bridge will get us pretty damn close to that.”

“It will, yes, but it was also one of the evacuation points,” Mohinder pointed out.

“So?”

“In all likelihood, that is where the greatest concentration of these...things will be. There were still mobs of people trying to cross the bridge when the infection reached them. I doubt very much that our path will be clear if we go that route.”

Holly made a disappointed face. “The Manhattan Bridge--”

“Is the same,” Mohinder cut in. “According to Priestly...Bob, I mean...according to him, the evacuation points for Brooklyn were the Brooklyn Bridge, the Manhattan Bridge and Williamsburg Bridge, correct?”

Matt flipped through his dossier of notes and extracted the letter from Bob. He scanned it quickly then nodded his head. “Yeah, those are the three. Not a lot of room to move all those people through,” he added sadly.

“Well then,” Holly said as she leaned over the table to study the map. “The next closest bridge across the water would be the... Long Island Expressway. But that takes us way the fuck out of our way.”

“And was probably used as a fourth evacuation point, even though Bob didn't mention it in his letter,” Mohinder said.

“Well...fuck,” Holly said, slumping back in her chair. “So it's either use one of the closer bridges that are probably overrun with zombies, or take our chances with the one that'll take us way the fuck out of the way. Maybe we should just swim under the water to get there.”

Silence followed this, as an air of disappointment settled over them. All of their options seemed to end in some sort of disaster. Just then, a stray thought seeped into Matt's brain. Maybe Holly had been on to something when she said they should go under the water. “What about the tunnel?” he suggested before the thought could slip away. “It wasn't on Bob's list of evacuation points and it'll get us even closer to your lab than the Brooklyn Bridge could.”

Holly looked up at Matt with admiration, a smile blooming on her lips. “Hey, yeah! They closed the tunnel for major construction a couple weeks back, so there's no way it would have been an evacuation point.” She leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Matt's cheek. “Matt, you're a genius!”

Mohinder, however, remained skeptical. “Just because it wasn't listed as an evacuation points doesn't necessarily mean that people didn't use it as such.”

But Matt was shaking his head, a modest grin on his face. “I doubt it. People are sheep, Mohinder. If somebody in a position of authority tells them to go somewhere to be evacuated, ninety-nine percent of the people will go there. Besides, this whole thing came on so fast I doubt the city was organized enough to end construction and reopen the tunnel. I really do think it's our best bet.”

“And if it, too, is overrun?”

“Then we'll turn around and come back here, where we know it's safe,” Matt replied, his voice getting quicker and lighter with excitement. “I think this could really work, you guys. As long as we're careful, and as long as I teach you how to properly use a gun,” he said with a stern look at Mohinder, “we should be fine.”

With their route finally decided upon, the three adults began to plan the rest of their journey. By the time midnight had rolled around, details about their escapade had been finalized. They had a master plan that they hoped would work out, but had also developed alternatives if things began to go awry. Having been a police officer in Brooklyn for years, Holly knew of several places around the tunnel that should provide them with safety if things went sour, Matt taught Mohinder how to hold and fire a handgun and Mohinder submitted to memory several different secondary routes to his laboratory, should any one path be blocked. They went to bed excited, but the exhaustion of planning so meticulously soon took over and they fell into an easy sleep.

May 4^th, 2008. 2:54 A.M.

Molly stared up at the glow-in-the-dark universe that adorned her ceiling, wishing that she could take a place amongst the stars – any of them, really – so she wouldn't have to face what was planned for tomorrow. The big star over in the corner of her room she had named Matteus-1, and the people of its planets never fought with each other. There was peace and harmony of every planet because whenever conflict did arise, they just hugged it out. Big, warm hugs, too. The type of hugs that made you feel safe and happy. Maybe she could go live on one of those planets. Or maybe she could go live in the Sureshington nebula. There were only one or two planets, but they were surrounded by a brilliantly coloured cloud that consistently fired off pink and blue lightning bolts. They weren't scary lightning bolts, though. The people on the planets wanted to be struck by them because if they were, they would be gifted with unlimited knowledge.

But those places didn't exist, and in her imagination didn't count. Molly groaned and turned on the lamp beside her bed, banishing her make-believe universe. She couldn't sleep. She was restless and grumpy and hungry. More than that, she was scared. Tomorrow was a scary place and she wished that it would never come. But come it would, all the wishing in the world wouldn't stop that, so she really should get some sleep. Molly tossed her legs over the side of her bed and crept quietly towards her bedroom door. A glass of milk should do the trick.

She tiptoed through the hallway and into the kitchen. On the couch, the moonlight that shone through the window cast a silver lining over Matt’s silhouette. He was snoring lightly, but Molly didn't mind. She crept over to the refrigerator and opened it silently. The only things inside were a carton of milk, two cartons of orange juice and half a jar of jam. She grabbed the milk, popped open the top and took a long swig, letting its coolness calm her nerves. Mohinder told her to always use a cup, but she though that was kind of silly. She placed the carton back in the fridge, shut the door and stood in the near-silence of the living room for a few moments. She closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic ups and downs of Matt's snoring, trying to find comfort somewhere in his presence.

It was actually beginning to work when the silent world was pierced by a desperate and pathetic moan. It was coming from outside, a fair distance away, but it still sent an intense chill down her spine. It reminded her that she wasn't safe. Not in here, and especially not out there. There were monsters out there, monsters that had haunted her dreams and killed her teacher. Monsters that would kill her and Matt and Mohinder if they had the chance. Suddenly no amount of milk would give her comfort. She felt cold, alone and frightened and she didn't think her bed, comfy as it was, would make those things go away. Gingerly, sliding her stocking feet across the floor, she made her way towards Matt's sleeping figure.

Matt's bulky frame left little room on the couch for her to squeeze into, so Molly knelt before it and rested her head softly in the crook of Matt's elbow. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. She closed her eyes, not in order to sleep, but to try and hold back the sudden, frightened tears that threatened to fall. Why were they doing this? Why couldn't they just stay here, where it was safe? Or at least, safer than other places. Why did they want to go out there with all those terrible monsters?

Above her, Matt began to stir. He groaned lightly and cracked open an eye. “Molly? Is everything okay?”

Molly peered up at him through the darkness. He looked tired and disheveled, but the comforting warmth in his eyes shone through. Still, she didn't trust her voice not to quaver when she spoke, so she simply nodded, trying now more than ever to keep the tears at bay.

Matt, however, saw straight through her facade. He slid off the couch and sat on the floor next to her. He took both of her hands in his and looked earnestly into her eyes. “Molly... honey, what's wrong?”

Molly tried to be strong. She wanted to tell him that nothing was wrong, that she just couldn't sleep. But when she opened her mouth her words of strength crumbled away into a pathetic sob. She leaned forward into Matt's sudden embrace and cried into his chest, letting her floodgates open. She knew that Matt and the others had bigger things to worry about than a crybaby like her, so she had bottled all of the pain, frustration and fear deep into herself and put on a mask of strength and courage. She hadn't complained when she wanted to complain, she hadn't cried when she felt like crying. Now all of those repressed fears and emotions were rushing forth and spilling out of her in hot, salty tears.

Matt simply held her close, pressed her head against his chest and rocked her gently. He closed his eyes and a look of concentration passed over his features. Molly knew the look and was grateful that she wouldn't have to talk. She doubted she could control her sobs long enough to form a complete sentence.

'Matt, I'm scared!,' she thought.

“Shhh, I know you are. I know you have been for a while. I'm sorry I haven't talked to you sooner. You've been so brave, Mols.”

Molly leaned her head away from Matt's chest just enough so she could lift her sleeve and wipe her eyes. 'Nuh-uh. I'm such a baby. I wish I were as brave as you.'

“I'm brave because I have to be. I can't afford not to be brave. You're brave just because you are. I'm very proud of you for that.”

Molly sniffled and looked up at Matt through tear-blurred eyes. “R-really?”

Matt smiled gently and nodded. “Just because you're scared doesn't mean that you're not brave. I'm terrified of tomorrow.”

“You are?”

Matt nodded briskly. “I am.”

“Then why are we going?” Molly asked, her voice rising with incredulity. “It's dumb!”

“It's a risk that we have to take, Mols. Trust me.”

And she did trust him. She trusted him more than anybody in the entire world, but that didn't stop her from being scared. She rested her head back on his chest. 'I don't want to die tomorrow.'

“Nobody's going to die.”

“Everybody's dying,” he mumbled into his shirt.

At this, Matt gently cupped her chin in his hand and guided her head to face his own. “You're not going to die, Molly.”

“Promise?”

“I love you, Molly,” he said with all sincerity, “I promise you that you're not going to die.” Matt paused for a moment, allowing his declaration to sink in. When he spoke again, his tone was considerably brighter. “Now how about I get you a glass of milk and tuck you back into bed. Tomorrow's going to be a big day and we both need our rest.”

Despite herself, Molly managed to smile. “I already had some milk.”

“Then off to bed it is,” Matt said, scooping her off the floor and carrying her back to her bed. In his arms, Molly felt safe. She felt warm and protected and loved. Those warm feelings began to blossom in her heart and spread through her body, casting away those cold and nasty fears that had begun to settle. As Matt tucked her snugly into bed she was reassured that no matter how scary tomorrow might be, she would be safe as long as her dad was around. Matt whispered goodnight and flicked off the light, leaving Molly in the comforting glow of her favourite star, Matteus-1.

May 4^th, 2008. 12:15 P.M.

“Okay, let's go over the plan one more time,” Matt said, tension thick in his voice. They had packed away everything that they deemed was necessary and were gathered in the lobby of the apartment building. Just outside the glass doors, Matt could still see his car where he had hastily parked it when he had returned home. There weren't too many bodies around, but there were enough to make Matt nervous.

“We've been over it enough times,” Mohinder replied calmly. “You'll try and distract as many as you can from the fourth floor while Holly and I pack the car. Once we're done we'll call for you and we'll be on our way.”

“And if any of them get to close?” Matt asked anxiously.

“We'll shoot them in the head,” Holly replied as she slid a full magazine of bullets into her gun. “We got it, Parkman. Now go. I'll watch the Doc and the Munchkin.”

Matt swallowed and nodded, fear and adrenaline pumping through his system now that they were finally moving. “Good luck,” he said before turning towards the stairs. On the bottom step, waiting obediently, Molly sat hugging her knees. Matt crouched down to her level and kissed her hairline. “Don't go anywhere until Mohinder tells you it's safe. If anything happens, run up and get me as fast as you can, kay?”

Molly flashed him a smile and nodded.

“Good girl,” Matt said before sailing up the stairs. In his mind, three very different mental dialogs looped. While Mohinder was meticulously going over the plan, Holly's only thoughts were a string of expletives. Molly repeated a chorus from a Hannah Montana song, interjected with frightened thoughts of her demise.

He reached the fourth floor, breezed by Estelle's apartment and threw open the window that looked out the rear of the building. Curling two fingers in his mouth, he whistled loudly and called out to the bodies below. The effect was almost instantaneous. Several of the bodies, including the young boy he had seen yesterday, raised their milky eyes and spotted Matt. They moaned pathetically and began to waddle their way towards the building, some quicker and with a little more intent than others. It had been about a week since most of them were infected and already some signs of decay were evident.

Swallowing his disgust, Matt continued to call for them and got the sinking feeling that they had just made a big mistake.

***

Downstairs, Mohinder and Holly could hear Matt's summon to the walking dead. Out front, the lethargic bodies began shuffling away, drawn to Matt's calls and the beckoning moans of their fellow undead.

“Shit, it's working,” Holly said in astonishment as she watched the deadly beings shuffle by. “Come on, let's get this barricade down so we can haul ass.”

“No. Wait just a moment longer. Let Matt attract as many as he can before we expose ourselves.” Patiently, both Mohinder and Holly stood by and watched as the number of passing bodies dwindled. Of course, the path would never fully be clear, but the undead's numbers had sufficiently thinned for them to feel somewhat comfortable getting down to work. “Okay, let's do it now,” Mohinder said as he hurried forward.

The barricade that Mohinder and Matt had built was nothing more than a desk, a couch and a few heavy chairs thrown haphazardly together to block the doors, so Holly and Mohinder had little trouble clearing them away. They both kept a watchful eye on the scene outside and slowed their movements, stopping completely on a few occasions, when it seemed as though one of the bodies had caught on to them. When the way was finally clear, Holly volunteered to step out first.

What she saw up and down the street was utter devastation. Cars had careened off the road and crashed into buildings, their occupants lying limply out the windows. There were trails of blood lining the streets, usually ending in a disemboweled corpse. She could see smoke billowing in the distance from fires that burned unchallenged. It might have been her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear that she could hear frightened screams as well. She swallowed back shocked tears and got to work. Staring at the world as it fell apart wouldn't help save it. She rushed forward to Matt's patrol car and threw open the doors. A quick glance around assured her that the closest body was some 300 feet away and had yet to notice her quick and purposeful movements. She motioned to Mohinder and he came out carrying two bags full of supplies, pausing for only a moment to survey the damage.

Inside, Molly was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She was unable to see any of the devastation, so her imagination happily supplied her with its alternatives – none of which were pleasant. She lowered her head to her knees, closed her eyes and began to count backwards from fifty. It helped to calm her when she was feeling particularly stressed or afraid. When she reached thirty she stopped abruptly. With her eyes closed, the keenness of her hearing had increased and in that, she knew something was odd. She could hear the shuffling of feet. They weren't purposeful and hurried like Mohinder's or Holly's and they weren't quiet and distant like the monsters outside. They sounded close. So close, in fact, that they echoed off the walls of the large room.

Molly's head shot up in time to see the superintendent stumbling out of his office and into the main foyer. His left arm, from the elbow down, was stripped of flesh, the hand completely missing. There was a chunk missing from his cheek and his pants were streaked with dried blood. Was she dreaming one of those horrible dreams again? She had to be!

No, no she wasn't dreaming. They didn't stink like this in her dreams. This was definitely happening. She immediately recoiled from the creature, clamoring backwards up a few steps. The superintendent, his milky eyes locked on Molly, shambled forward and reached his arms out for her. He began to gurgle, blood sputtering from his mouth, which grew into one of those terrible moans that kept her awake at night. Where did he come from? Why hadn't they seen him before? Was she about to die? Before she had time to answer any of those questions a shot rang out, his forehead exploded and he tumbled to the ground at the base of the stairs. Chunks of skin and bone bounced off of the wall beside her, a few pieces landing in her lap. Behind his crumpled body, Mohinder stood poised with a gun, the barrel billowing smoke.

***

“God damn...” Matt mused to himself as he watched the horde of undead ripple below him. They writhed against each other, each one vying for the closest position to the building – the closest position to their next meal. They stared at him with dead, unwavering eyes, a few of the nearer ones clawing at the bricks, snapping their fingernails from their hands. As he surveyed the crowd he managed to spot a few familiar faces. The geezer who manned the hot dog vendor down the street, a fellow tenant of the building – Carlos? - and the perky Starbucks girl who always knew what his order was before he even opened his mouth. Now they all wanted to swarm him and consume his flesh.

But enough of those nasty thoughts. He needed to keep them distracted so Holly and Mohinder would be as safe as possible. Rather than beckon them with 'over here!'s, 'hey you!'s and 'look at me!'s, Matt began to sing an old Bobby Darin song – one of Estelle's favourites – to the angry crowd below. It didn't matter what he said or did; as long as they could see and hear him they wouldn't wander around to the front of the building.

Just as he was getting into the second verse of “Mack The Knife” a shot rang out below. For a moment after, everything was silent. The horde below had stopped their writhing and Matt stopped his beckoning. Then, one by one, the undead on the fringe of the mob below began to turn away from Matt and shuffle towards wherever that sound had come from. The actions of one had a reciprocal effect on the bodies around it. Like the people to the evacuation points, the undead began to play follow the leader and lost interest in Matt.

Suddenly panicked, Matt leaned farther out of the window and waved his arms frantically at the forty or so bodies below. “No! No, no! I'm up here you sons of bitches!” But they paid him no heed. Save for a few close individuals, the mob's interest in that new and enticing sound overpowered Matt's calls and they shambled down the alley towards the front of the building.

“Shit! Oh, shit!” Matt exclaimed, banging his hands on the windowsill. The bodies were slow, but he had four flights of stairs to scramble down. He pushed away from the window, sailed past Estelle's room and hurled himself down the stairs, flying down entire sets when he could. “Get in the car! Get in the car!” he screamed down the stairwell, fully aware that they probably couldn't hear him. His heart raced and the adrenaline pumped through his body as he approached the ground floor, fully expecting it to be overrun by the undead. To his surprise and relief, he nearly tripped over Molly as he turned the last corner. By her feet was the body of his old superintendent and by the front door was a pale looking Mohinder, a smoking gun in his hand. Rather than ask after the well being of either of them, he began to shout orders. “Get in the car! Grab what you can and get in the car! They're coming!”

Shots began to sound off outside and through the glass, Matt could see Holly firing her weapon. Without a second thought, he yanked Molly to her feet and pushed her forward as he grabbed his bat and the nearest bag. Mohinder had already dashed outside and was now closing the trunk to Matt's patrol car.

When he and Molly finally pushed their way outside, Mohinder was already crawling into the backseat. Holly was using the back door as a shield as she fired off rounds into the dangerously close crowd. Matt noticed with some relief that the engine was gently humming – someone had managed to turn the car on.

“Get the fuck in the car!” Holly screeched as she hastily tried to slide a new magazine into her gun.

The angry undead mob was only a few feet away now, seconds away from consuming them all. Without much concern over a bruised shin, Matt shoved Molly into the front seat as the mob finally descended upon them. He crawled in after her, noticing for the first time that in his haste he hadn't considered that Molly would be sitting in the driver's seat. Cold, dead hands began to claw at his jeans as the car was encased with bodies. They banged their fists against the glass, trying desperately to get to the people inside. Molly screamed as the force of the mob sent the car rocking back and forth.

“Go!” Matt yelled at Molly. He had managed to turn around and was now kicking at the intruding bodies. In the back seat, Holly was pointing her gun at the window but knew better than to fire.

“I don't know how to drive!” Molly protested, learning as far away from her window as she could.

“Matt!” Mohinder called from behind the metal mesh, concern thick in his voice.

Matt leaned forward and grabbed hold of the door's handle and was trying desperately to close it. However, six rotting and determined hands were trying to pull it back open.

“Molly, go!” Matt shouted again. Droplets of bloody saliva sprayed across the exposed flesh of his wrist, sending a jolt of panic through his system. As he struggled with the determined mob, the car gradually fell into darkness as the hoard of beating bodies blocked out the midday sun. He could feel his muscles weakening against the sheer determination of the undead outside.

“I can't!” Molly pleaded.

“Drive!” Matt barked, his voice gruff with fright. For a terrifying second he could see the head of one of the bodies lower to his exposed wrist. Somehow he found the strength to lift his leg and kick it away, feeling the skull collapse below the thick sole of his shoe. He heard a worrying clunk as Molly changed gears clumsily. The car began to roll ahead.

“What do I do? What do I do?” Molly screeched, searching around the dashboard for answers.

“The right pedal! Press down on the right pedal!” Mohinder instructed from behind, poking his fingers through the protective mesh. The car jolted to a sudden stop. “No, the right pedal!” A moment later the engine whirred and the car jumped forward.

That brief movement was enough for Matt to finally gain the upper hand. The undead's grip on the door was momentarily taken away, and in that moment Matt slammed the door shut, severing the fingers of an overweight woman who had gotten too close for comfort.

As Molly jerked the car forward, bodies began to fall away and under the car. The snapping of bones could be heard as the car rolled over their decrepit bodies, rocking the car from one side to the other. The pounding slowly ebbed as they neared the outside of the mob, eventually breaking free and cleanly cruising down the road.

Only when he was sure that they were a safe distance from the horde of undead did Matt bother to ask after the safety of everybody. “Christ, is everybody okay?” he asked urgently. But nobody answered. Holly was leaning back in her seat, her eyes closed with relief. Mohinder's gaze was cast at the floor of the car, a lasting horror evident in his eyes. Molly continued to steer down the road, anguished tears rolling down her face.