the hair and throw her into the wall. Her head crashes hard, leaving a smudge of hair and blood. I am a big guy and have never hurt anyone before. I never see her face, and still don’t know if she was one of them or one of us.
We get through the doors to the outside as the hallways become impossibly flooded with people and zombies alike. Several seconds more, and we would not have made it out… not as humans anyway.
“My car,” says Remington. “It is just over this hill.” We dead sprint to it. Remington had sprung for the more expensive parking, yet another stroke of luck that saves our lives. Remington is breathing too heavy to talk, and he hands the keys to Anne. She gets in the driver’s seat and I take shotgun. Remington gets in the back heaving. Danny shuts the door as a small man lunges head first into the window. I look into his eyes and they are not human. They are not intelligent. They are the eyes of an animal, frightened and vicious, acting only on instinct.
“Fucking gun it,” yells Danny. Anne does. The man is flung sideways off of the car and is up immediately running after us.
“What … what the hell … what the hell was that?” asks Remington.
“I don’t know Mr. Remington . . . Earl. I have no clue,” says Anne.
“I do,” I say. “That was the start of the zombie apocalypse.”
Chapter 2
I Finally Made it to Brickell Avenue
I am from the Midwest-Oklahoma to be exact. My parents, the only family I had, died in a car wreck when I was in college. Oklahoma had nothing for me and I knew I had to move away. I thought of Miami almost immediately. I wanted to live in a place as different from Oklahoma as possible-I think to get away from the ghosts’ of my parents. I also had many memories from vacationing in the Keys when I was a kid. Mom would always make us spend at least two or three days in Miami, she thought it would bring us some culture. Fitting I guess that in trying to get away from them, I picked a place that we shared.
Before even the first day of law school, I knew I wanted to work at a law firm on Brickell Avenue. Brickell Avenue is home to many of the steel and glass skyscrapers that dot Miami’s downtown and financial districts. Many of these monsters have views of Biscayne Bay, and I often daydreamed of sitting in my office watching boats go by why writing some legal brief. I am an adamant sailor. I found out later that there is so much new construction, that many building’s views are just a sliver of water between the newest towers. I didn’t care though, I was committed.
Remington Flagler’s office space being on the 20 th floor of one of these towers was a major incentive for me to land a job there. Sure, it was good firm with a solid reputation, and it was big enough to be impressive (just over 100 lawyers), but not so big to be overwhelming. But that view, or the idea of the life it represented, that is what kept me motivated on those long nights studying.
That night, Brickell Avenue saved us all.
“Where am I going?” asks Anne.
“The office,” says Remington. “I need my …my inhaler and I left it in my desk.”
“That is a good idea. The elevator requires a code to get to our floor and the door to the stairs lock. Those “things” should not be able to get in,” says Anne.
“Not me guys, when we stop, I gotta go,” says Danny.
“‘Those ‘things’ are zombies and you would be crazy to go out in this,” I say.
“No choice, I have got to get to my girlfriend. No way I am leaving her by herself.”
“Have her come to us,” says Anne. “It has got to be safer than wherever she is. Ask her to bring food and water.”
Danny thinks about and takes out his cell phone. The conversation sounds frantic.
“She said she will be there in ten minutes. She was out, so she is close. She can’t bring anything though. Will you wait on her?” he says.
“We are only going to beat her there by five minutes. As long as there
We get through the doors to the outside as the hallways become impossibly flooded with people and zombies alike. Several seconds more, and we would not have made it out… not as humans anyway.
“My car,” says Remington. “It is just over this hill.” We dead sprint to it. Remington had sprung for the more expensive parking, yet another stroke of luck that saves our lives. Remington is breathing too heavy to talk, and he hands the keys to Anne. She gets in the driver’s seat and I take shotgun. Remington gets in the back heaving. Danny shuts the door as a small man lunges head first into the window. I look into his eyes and they are not human. They are not intelligent. They are the eyes of an animal, frightened and vicious, acting only on instinct.
“Fucking gun it,” yells Danny. Anne does. The man is flung sideways off of the car and is up immediately running after us.
“What … what the hell … what the hell was that?” asks Remington.
“I don’t know Mr. Remington . . . Earl. I have no clue,” says Anne.
“I do,” I say. “That was the start of the zombie apocalypse.”
Chapter 2
I Finally Made it to Brickell Avenue
I am from the Midwest-Oklahoma to be exact. My parents, the only family I had, died in a car wreck when I was in college. Oklahoma had nothing for me and I knew I had to move away. I thought of Miami almost immediately. I wanted to live in a place as different from Oklahoma as possible-I think to get away from the ghosts’ of my parents. I also had many memories from vacationing in the Keys when I was a kid. Mom would always make us spend at least two or three days in Miami, she thought it would bring us some culture. Fitting I guess that in trying to get away from them, I picked a place that we shared.
Before even the first day of law school, I knew I wanted to work at a law firm on Brickell Avenue. Brickell Avenue is home to many of the steel and glass skyscrapers that dot Miami’s downtown and financial districts. Many of these monsters have views of Biscayne Bay, and I often daydreamed of sitting in my office watching boats go by why writing some legal brief. I am an adamant sailor. I found out later that there is so much new construction, that many building’s views are just a sliver of water between the newest towers. I didn’t care though, I was committed.
Remington Flagler’s office space being on the 20 th floor of one of these towers was a major incentive for me to land a job there. Sure, it was good firm with a solid reputation, and it was big enough to be impressive (just over 100 lawyers), but not so big to be overwhelming. But that view, or the idea of the life it represented, that is what kept me motivated on those long nights studying.
That night, Brickell Avenue saved us all.
“Where am I going?” asks Anne.
“The office,” says Remington. “I need my …my inhaler and I left it in my desk.”
“That is a good idea. The elevator requires a code to get to our floor and the door to the stairs lock. Those “things” should not be able to get in,” says Anne.
“Not me guys, when we stop, I gotta go,” says Danny.
“‘Those ‘things’ are zombies and you would be crazy to go out in this,” I say.
“No choice, I have got to get to my girlfriend. No way I am leaving her by herself.”
“Have her come to us,” says Anne. “It has got to be safer than wherever she is. Ask her to bring food and water.”
Danny thinks about and takes out his cell phone. The conversation sounds frantic.
“She said she will be there in ten minutes. She was out, so she is close. She can’t bring anything though. Will you wait on her?” he says.
“We are only going to beat her there by five minutes. As long as there
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