Maybe it was a side effect of the infection, maybe he was just physically exhausted after a few days of essentially being dead. Either way, the 4x4 was still about a kilometre away by his estimate and, as he blindly sprints down the centre of a dimly lit street, he trips and falls over something. His legs tangled for a moment in some unseen snare causing him to fall. His rifle is thrown from his shoulder with the sudden loss of control and as he rolls to a stop he hears it crash and skid along the road ahead of him. Looking back at whatever it was that restricted his legs, he has to feel his way with his hands. He can just make out the outline of a bicycle tyre wrapped around his ankle and pulls it off.
Debris from the chaos that gripped the town as the world crumbled. He shakes his head as