The Fall of Society (Book 2): The Fight of Society by Thonas Rand Page A

didn’t look back. She had to be somewhere and she wasn’t going to fail. Her car moved at a solid sixty miles an hour and she checked each street sign as she zipped through intersections.
                As she sped through another intersection, she looked to the right and was shocked at what she saw a couple blocks down…
                “Jesus!” she gasped.
                The street was completely filled by a horde of the undead, literally thousands of them, and they were headed in her direction. It was a large storm of decay, a fetid wave growing in size and consuming everything in its path. Milla increased her speed. When she reached the next intersection, she took a right at a familiar street sign.
                A few blocks later she got to her destination—a police station—and it looked empty. Two police cars were parked in front, but they were destroyed, smashed to bits by rioting, regular people. Milla sped up then slammed on the brakes. The car slid sideways and she gunned the gas to enter the parking lot on the side of the building.
                Except for three cars, the lot was empty, but Milla parked far in the back and hopped out of the vehicle. She had on skintight black jeans and a military green tactical jacket with multiple pockets—end of the world, no matter, she was hot—she ran as fast as she could to a side door and tried it. Locked—she pounded on it, but no one answered. She ran to the front of the building.
                She closed the roll gate of the parking lot and when she got to the sidewalk, she could hear the horde approaching. Only a few blocks away. She rocketed to the main entrance and tried the doors, but they were locked too. She banged on them, but no one came. She cupped her hand over a window and saw movement. There were three or four cops and they were in the middle of reinforcing the windows and doors. One of them placed a sheet of plywood over the window she was at and began to nail it down. “Hey!” she shouted and slapped the glass. “Let me in!”
                The cops inside ignored her.
                “I’m a recovery agent, goddamnit, open the door!”
                One cop, an overweight white guy, came to the door, but didn’t open it. “What’ya want?” he asked through the glass.
                “I’m here to pick up my fugitive.”
                “Are you fucking serious, Lady? Are you nuts? The world is over!”
                “Listen, I know he’s in there. Please, let me in!”
                The cop huffed, then opened the door.
                “I let you in and you’re not coming out for a while,” he said.
                Anxiously, “Okay,” she answered as she looked over her shoulder for any sign of the horde.
                “Come on, get in! Get in!” the cop said and pulled her in by the arm.
                He slammed the door and locked it tight.
               
    “Damn it, Mark, why’d you let her in, man!” another cop said.
                “Shut up and keep hammering!” Mark snapped back.
                “Are you for real? You’re here to pick up a skip trace?” he said to Milla.
                “Yeah, I’m for real, can you take me to your holding cells?” Milla said and held out some paperwork to him.
                “Wow, really? You wanna give me paperwork in the middle of this shit?”
                “Force of habit.”
                “Yeah, well, you can forget about that now,” the cop said and went back to boarding up the windows.
                “But you do have him here, right?” she asked.
                “I don’t know, lady, and to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit about a few drunks and junkies that we have back there,