The System's stark warning slammed into Ethan with the force of a physical blow. Three to five minutes. In a multi-level parking garage, that was practically an eternity and no time at all. The two men from the office, the ones who had tried to pry their way into their temporary sanctuary, were here. Tracked? Coincidence? It didn't matter. They were a lethal threat.
"Lily, get down! Behind those tires, now! Stay flat and don't make a sound, no matter what you hear!" Ethan's voice was a low, urgent hiss. He shoved her gently but firmly towards the rear of the Ford Explorer, where a stack of old, discarded tires offered a small measure of concealment.
Her eyes were huge, reflecting the dim emergency lights, but she scrambled into place without a word, a testament to the terrifying lessons she was learning far too quickly.
"System, car status! Fuel? Battery? Will it start?" Ethan thought, his fingers already fumbling with the Ford Explorer's door handle, the key poised.
[ANALYZING VEHICLE: FORD EXPLORER (CIVILIAN MODEL). FUEL LEVEL: APPROXIMATELY 25% (QUARTER TANK). BATTERY CHARGE: SUFFICIENT FOR IGNITION. IGNITION PROBABILITY (IMMEDIATE START): 70%. WARNING: ENGINE NOISE WILL BE DETECTABLE THROUGHOUT STRUCTURE, ALERTING HOSTILES TO YOUR EXACT LOCATION.]
[HOSTILE PURSUERS: ASCENDING TO LEVEL 2. ESTIMATED TIME TO THIS LEVEL: 2-3 MINUTES.]
The timeframe had shrunk. He had to gamble. Hiding was a temporary fix at best; these men were clearly persistent. A direct confrontation with Lily so close, against two potentially armed hostiles, was a recipe for disaster. The car was their only viable, albeit noisy, ticket out.
Ethan slid into the driver's seat, the old leather cool against his skin. He jammed the key into the ignition. "Please, please start," he muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see figures emerge from the stairwell at the end of the aisle.
He turned the key.
The engine whined, a protesting, sluggish sound that seemed to echo deafeningly in the concrete tomb of the garage. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing. Then, with a cough and a sputter, it caught, roaring to life with a V6 rumble that felt like a dinner bell for every Walker and hostile human in a mile radius.
[ENGINE IGNITION SUCCESSFUL. HOSTILES ALERTED! RAPIDLY CONVERGING ON YOUR POSITION! CURRENTLY ON LEVEL 2 STAIRWELL, MOVING UP!]
"Hold on, Lily!" Ethan yelled, not daring to look back to see if she was secured. He slammed the gearstick into reverse, the tires squealing on the smooth concrete as he backed the heavy SUV out of its parking space.
Just as he swung the wheel to shift into drive, the two men burst from the stairwell at the far end of the level, weapons visible. One brandished the same crowbar Ethan had seen at the office; the other now held a short, wicked-looking machete. They spotted the moving Explorer instantly, their shouts of rage and surprise barely audible over the engine's growl.
"No you don't!" Ethan snarled, stomping on the accelerator. The Explorer lurched forward, its tires fighting for grip.
He sped down the aisle, aiming for the nearest downward ramp. The men were sprinting towards him, trying to cut him off. The one with the crowbar, surprisingly agile, actually managed to swing it as Ethan passed, the metal screeching against the SUV's side panel, leaving a deep gouge.
[VEHICLE INTEGRITY: MINOR COSMETIC DAMAGE. NO CRITICAL SYSTEMS AFFECTED.]
[HOSTILES IN PURSUIT ON FOOT. THEY WILL NOT BE ABLE TO MATCH VEHICLE SPEED ONCE CLEAR OF THIS LEVEL.]
Ethan navigated the tight turns of the ramp, the tires protesting, Lily hopefully braced in the back. He didn't dare look away from the path ahead. He caught a glimpse of more Walkers on the second level, drawn by the commotion, lurching towards the noise, becoming inadvertent obstacles for his pursuers.
He careened down the final ramp to the ground level, the jackknifed delivery truck still partially blocking the main exit. He had to angle sharply, scraping the side of the Explorer against a concrete pillar with a jarring shriek of metal, but he squeezed through the gap and burst out onto the street, the sudden daylight blinding after the garage's gloom.
He didn't slow down, flooring the accelerator, glancing frantically in his rearview mirror. The two men were momentarily visible at the garage exit, shaking their fists, already falling behind. He had made it. They were out.
[IMMEDIATE PURSUIT FROM HUMAN HOSTILES: EVADED. WALKER CONCENTRATIONS ON CURRENT STREET: MODERATE BUT DISPERSED. RECOMMENDED ROUTE TO HIGHWAY 316-EAST ACCESS POINT: PROCEED THREE BLOCKS WEST, THEN NORTH.]
"Lily, you okay back there?" Ethan shouted over the engine noise, his voice hoarse, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.
A small, shaky voice came from the back. "I… I think so. Are they gone?"
"Yeah, kiddo. They're gone for now." He risked a quick glance; she was peeking over the back of the passenger seat, looking pale but unharmed. Relief, immense and overwhelming, washed over him, quickly followed by the pressing need for their next objective.
He followed the System's newly projected route, the detailed map found in the vault now proving invaluable as it highlighted clear streets and potential chokepoints. The Ford Explorer, despite its rough exit from the garage, handled well, its engine a reassuring thrum. For the first time since the world ended, Ethan felt a flicker of something beyond immediate survival: a sense of agency, of movement towards a tangible goal.
The city blocks flew by, a blur of devastation and silent, empty windows. They saw more Walkers, but the speed of the vehicle allowed them to bypass most groups easily.
Within ten minutes, the System announced: [APPROACHING ACCESS RAMP FOR HIGHWAY 316-EAST. MULTIPLE SIGNATURES DETECTED AHEAD ON HIGHWAY ITSELF. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.]
Ethan slowed as they neared the wide, sweeping on-ramp. He could see the elevated stretch of Highway 316 now, a ribbon of concrete against the gray sky. And then he saw what the System meant by "multiple signatures."
The highway was a parking lot.
Cars, trucks, buses, RVs – all were crammed together, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions, an impassable, miles-long metal serpent. It was a scene of utter gridlock, a silent testament to a mass exodus gone terribly wrong. And weaving between the vehicles, crawling over them, feasting within them, were Walkers. Hundreds. Thousands, perhaps. An ocean of the dead, trapped on the asphalt, a nightmarish, moving tapestry of hunger and decay.
Their vehicular advantage had just slammed into a very solid, very dead, wall.