Sorry about the late update. Expect grammatical errors and misspellings.

David barely had a moment to think as he drove towards the city of Raleigh. The closer he got to the city from Baltimore, the more the roads were blocked with cars, skeletons and other debris that was scattered across the highways. He spent more than half the time trying to maneuver his cycle in between obstacles.

It was strange that he never found any zombies between his current position and Baltimore. In fact, it was downright weird and unusual. David thought any sounds from the city or movement of the troops would be enough to attract them. But the only movement he saw was a herd of deer that took off from eating the grass that was poking through the pavement.

As he approached the city, he could see the skyscrapers in the distance. Even after a year, they still outlined the sky with an imposing magnificence. All fires and sounds were gone from the city, giving an erie feeling in David's soul. The car horns, the chattering of people, sirens of police cars, and the rumble of trains was gone. He was used to that sound back in his hometown, but here it was strange. It was a ghost town.

The road David traveled on led him to an small urban district before he to the center of the city. It was mostly filled with empty cars along with fast-food restaurants, small businesses, attorney offices, a park with a pool, dozens of street lights, shops lined with women's merchandise, and other businesses you would find on a strip.

David came to stop on what was once a busy intersection and turned off the motorcycle. From the bike's saddle bags he pulled a battery powered radio, a police scanner and a hand-held walkie. He turned them on in sequence in hopes of finding a signal in the city.

The walkie and scanner were set on search while he tuned to the radio to all AM and FM frequencies he could find. After nearly 15 minutes of searching, he couldn't find anything. What was even worse was he couldn't find the frequency for the signal his friends found that came from Baltimore.

In his frustration, he chucked the radio as hard as he could. However in his rage, he didn't noticed he chucked it through the giant window of a nearby Bank of America. The crash that followed seemed to echo throughout the entire city. David flinched at the sound.

"That was stupid," he muttered as he kick started the bike.

Then, out of nowhere, several stiffs came from around the corner behind him. Two more seemed to rise from behind an abandoned suburban on his right. Another dozen seem to appear out of nowhere in front of him. Each one was reaching their arms out in desperation as they stumbled as fast as they could towards him.

"Time to go," David muttered. Before he took off, he pulled the M16 he got from the soldiers from his pack. He checked to see if it was loaded then wrapped the strap around his shoulders. He gunned the throttle and tore down the street.

The zombies in front hurried quicker towards him. David made a sharp left turn. He dodged more cars and debris, but also ended up dodging more stiffs that were coming to check out what made the crashing sound. David swore he could feel their fingers grasping his arms and face as he hurried on passed them. He could see more at the end of his street heading towards him. He opened the throttle, charging straight towards them. He then made a sharp left turn onto other street just seconds before the new horde blocked him off.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted no zombies on this street. He saw the name of the street he was on. He hoped he could find a clear spot where he could check the city maps he printed the day he left. So he continued on this street for about two blocks before he decided he was safe enough for a few minutes. It was an intersection where he could keep a good eye in all four directions.

It took only a moment for David to find the street he was on. From his position, he still had a few blocks before he could get to the main turnpike that surrounded the city. It was the one Heather and himself chose for the quickest route through the city. It was elevated off the ground and was possibly empty of stiffs. If David was hoping to get to it, he had to travel another ten blocks and around another park/town square to get to an exit ramp a mile beyond that. He only hoped he could get there unscathed and make it to the next town.

David put the map away and checked behind him. A few of the slightly, faster stiffs had already made it around the corner.

"Damn, these guys know how to move," he muttered.

He put the cycle in gear and tore away from the intersection. Street after street whizzed by his vizor, each one having a number of undead monsters traveling towards the sound of his motorcycle. That made him increase the throttle a little more. The fuel injection made the front of his cycle slightly rise of the ground and his speed picked up.

The farther he traveled, the bigger the buildings got. The skyscrapers he saw earlier now loomed above him. Once filled with bustling people, they were now nothing but empty shells. Several of the windows from buildings were broken out and shards of glass still covered the street. And once again, he had to dodge cars, trash cans, and at one point, a military hummer. But he soon grinned as he saw the turnpike just a mile away. David soon emerged from the urban canyon of the street he was traveling on and into the town square.

"OH FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!" David screamed and leaned his body as far as he could to the left. The bike skidded across the street and wheels eventually slipped. David hit the pavement hard with the bike falling on his legs. He skidded to a stop, just barely missing a parked car. He groaned with pain and looked at the park.

Zombies. It seemed like every single zombie in the state of North Carolina was in the five-acre town square. They were all jammed gut-to-butt. It was standing room only in the crowd. They seemed to be everyone and everything. Male, female, light, dark, bloody. Some were still intact while others were missing arms or dragging bloody stumps were legs once were. There were others who had gaping holes in the stomachs and chests. Also, there were some others that had their ears, eyes, cheeks, and hair pulled off. Maybe even eaten. But what freaked David out the most was tree were even a few that had no legs at all. There was one only ten meters away, crawling slowly on his hands and elbows. It was softly growling in frustration as its hands were treaded on by the other zombies.

David struggled to his feet, clutching his sore side from the impact on the pavement.

"Gotta move," he grumbled. However, the moment he got to his feet, the zombies immediately took notice. As one, the group shuffled towards him. Their hands reaching for him with an extreme hunger in their red eyes.

"Dammit," he muttered. David pulled the bike back up and jumped on. He kickstarted the bike. It roared to life and jumped forward back the way he came.

Of course, the street he just previously traveled on was beginning to fill up with the zombies. Drawn earlier to the cycle's engine, they came forward with the same hunger as the ones in the park. David gunned to the engine and began to lean right. But before he could straighten up, he heard the engine begin to sputter at a rapid pace. He gunned the throttle as hard as he could but he kept slowing down.

David's panic increased when the heavy scent of gasoline filled his nostrils. He stopped the bike and checked the fuel line next to his legs. To his horror, the line was ripped out of the distributer and the gas tank. He had no way of fixing it in the short amount of time he had. In frustration, David pushed the cycle over.

"There is no way my luck is that bad," he muttered. He grabbed the M-16, his sidearms, and his pack and jogged away from his wreck just as the two groups of zombies converged on his street. With all the gasoline still heavy in the air, an idea struck him. David switched the M-16 to single shot and then quickly aimed his automatic weapon for the first time at the exposed gas tank.

His first shot ricochet off the concrete just inches from the gas tank. His second shot impacted the tailpipe above tank. He took a deep breath and fired his third shot just as the first zombies were even with the cycle. The explosion wasn't as big as car that blew up last year, but it was enough to knock over the first dozen bodies around the gas tank. Shrapnel ripped through the others, creating wounds that wouldn't bleed. A few were lucky and impacted right through their craniums.

David then wrapped the automatic around his shoulders and took off before he could be in danger again. But he only got a hundred feet before his old injury began to throb even worse than usual. His run soon became a hobble as pain shot through his leg each time it hit the pavement. He thought the spill he took must have aggravated it more than usual. He was still moving faster than they were, but eventually he would have to slow down.

To top it off, he was completely lost as well. His wreck and panic left him completely oblivious to his surroundings. He had no idea what street he was on or how to get out of the city.

But what matter the most right now was finding a new vehicle. If he could find something to travel, even as something as simple as a bicycle, he would have an edge over his pursuers. But that was easier said than done running down a street that was jam-packed with cars. To his horror, there were still people trapped in their cars. Many of them were trying desperately to break the glass of their doors as he ran by. A few were reaching through cracked windows, shredding their arms in the process, just to grab him. He felt their dead fingers gripping his jacket as he hurried by.

Soon, David came to an intersection. To his left was a one-way street that was empty of zombies, but filled with cars. Three lanes of cars jammed together and some even on the sidewalk. There was hardly any room to run in between the cars either. It looked like the only way through was to run on top of the roofs. However, David couldn't risk injury in case he slipped.

The center lane was like the one he was already on, but he could see more zombies in the distance converging on him. There were most likely drawn to the moans and cries from the dozens of their companions behind him. He was safe were probably another minute before he was in any danger.

The right was the other side of one-way street, but was less crowded since there was a giant parking lot a half-block away. David thought it was the lot for the shopping mall he saw on one end of the town square.

But it was soon a sight that made him gape. It seemed to be the spot where the National Guard had made their last stand. Camouflaged humvees and jeeps were scattered over the street and parking lot. Thousands of empty bullet casings filled the street along with abandoned rifles and automatics. There were dozens of bodies scattered over the area as well. Some looked like they were zombies while others were dressed in camouflage clothing with the exception of their bodies being ripped to shreds. There was also a small group of bodies piled near one of the jeeps. Their bodies were decayed after one year, but David could see a single bullet hole each in their heads.

Maybe there was something here he could use. With all of the scattered military vehicles around, there had to be some spare weapons he could take with him back to his home bass. David eagerly moved to check the vehicles. Suddenly, several bodies rose up in the center lane in front of him. Once they were back on their feet, the much closer zombies began to shuffle towards him. He stiffened with shock. They must have been playing possum on the ground, just waiting for someone alive to walk by.

David pulled the M-16 off his shoulder and began firing. The nearest zombie's jaw exploded in a spray of blood and bone, but still kept coming. He fired again, but only managed to clip the right side of the creature's face. Not enough to bring it down.

"Shit," he cursed. Holding the heavy automatic was different than using the pistols. He had a hard time adjusting to the recoil after using his guns for so long.

Desperate, David switched the gun to the 'burst' mode and tried again. Three bullets rapidly fired from the barrel, hoping at least one would catch a lucky hit. The nearest zombie's head exploded in a spray of gore. David fired again, catching another in the chest. It fell over, but was quickly getting back up. David's breathing was beginning to panic as he kept firing at his pursuers.

Then the rifle clicked empty.

"Crap," he muttered. He pulled the magazine out and loaded in his second one. But by the time he started firing, the two groups of zombies had met at the intersection as he kept backing towards the mall. They kept bumping into each and shoving others aside to chase him. There were so many of them that they were jammed together into the street. The abandoned cars slowed them down, but not by much.

He kept firing, killing four, when he tripped and fell onto his back. A grinning skull entered his gaze and he rolled away in horror. The body was covered in camouflaged fatigues that were ripped to shreds. An abandoned rifle laid beside it.

With four grenades strapped to its chest.

David lunged forward pulled one from the strap. He pulled the pin and threw the bomb into the crowd. The seconds ticked by and for one horrible moment, David thought it was a dud when a loud boom and brilliant flash of fire blinded his vision. His ears rung with bodies and pieces were falling around him.

He slowly sat up. The shockwave was enough to halt the group of stiffs. However, there were some that were getting back up. Some of them were actually on fire. Their roasting flesh was enough to make him heave.

David got back to his feet. He pulled the grenade wrap off the dead body and left the carnage behind. He ran/hobbled to nearest vehicle: a humvee. As soon as he opened the door, he noticed the keys were not in ignition, cup-holder, or the visor. He didn't have the time to check the bodies either. He checked two jeeps as well and they didn't have keys either.

If I survive this, I need to figure out how to hot-wire a car.

The zombies were on the move again, as though the explosion never occurred. David ran from the jeep and into the parking lot. Here he would have a chance to run clear and then maybe catch his breath. But then, something behind one of the humvees caught his eye and he smiled.

Their was an actual military personnel Can-Am spyder roadster with a mounted machine gun on the end of the seat. Even with the passing year, it looked like it was in good condition. The tires were still aired up, no sign of exterior damage and no leaks from the bottom. But were the keys still in it? Was the gas tank still full?

David rushed over to the bike and hopped onto the seat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the keys still in the ignition. He turned the key on, but the smile slipped off his face when the starter stuttered.

TRRRR-RA-RA-RA-RA-RAR

"Come on. Don't this to me! Not now!"

He tried again with same result. And again. The zombies got closer with every second the starter didn't ignite. David didn't know the problem was. The tank gauge said it had about half left. But he ran out of time. The moans were louder than starter. He was bout to turn and run when he remembered the machine gun mount.

David flipped around on the seat and grabbed the turret. He pulled the lever on the side of the machine gun, loading the next bullet into the chamber. He said a quick prayer, hoping the gun was loaded, and held the trigger down on the handles.

The recoil from the shots would have made the gun fly from his hands if it wasn't mounted the the spyder. And would have probably knocked him on his ass too. However, the cascade of bullets was enough to tear through the advancement with a lot of force. The stiffs were practically ripped to pieces and some even blew apart completely. In mere seconds, David had disposed of two dozen zombies. The bullets were even powerful enough to exit out of the bodies and into their comrades.

After about 30 seconds, the gun stopped automatically and clicked repeatedly in David's hands. His hands were numb as he pried them off the handles. The scene that met his eyes was a scene of beauty and carnage. Dozens of bodies littered the ground in front of him. Barely a handful were still intact and were groggily moving. Everything else was nothing but arms, legs, torsos and heads. To top it off, the zombies that were still on their feet kept tripping over their fallen brethren and could not advance as fast as they used too. David turned around and tried starting the spyder once more.

He rocked the vehicle back and forth, trying to get the gas mixed and flowing into the starter. He then closed his eyes and tried again.

TRRR-RA-RA-RA-VVVRRROOOOOOOMMMMM

David breathed a heavily sigh of relief and used his foot pop the clutch in first gear. He didn't bother to look behind as he turned the throttle and tore away from the are of death with the tires squealing against the pavement. He just keep driving.

The Can-Am was an interesting vehicle. It was a tri-bike, but there were two wheels in the front instead of the usual one. It was covered with black, camouflaged armor that was harder than a regular ATV's fiber glass. There were a number of dial on the small console. It had the usual Speed, RPM, and fuel gauge, but there was also GPS monitor, two-wave radio, and for some odd reason, a CD player. The GPS battery was dead and David highly doubted the satellite's in spaces were still functioning.

But David had to admit. Despite the situation, the roadster was really fun to drive. He dodged cars with ease and was able to speed up really quickly. Riding the roadster was really no different than riding an ATV.

Traveling along the road, he made a left turn and saw an exit ramp and turnpike in the distance. David chuckled. He headed towards the ramp, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw it unblocked and still standing. He pulled onto the ramp and saw a turnpike sign that read 'Charlotte-next exit' and ' Columbia-I26' on the signs above him.

David smiled. He was back on track and headed home.