The Dead Flag Blues
The American flag layed dead at the top of its crooked pole, accompanied only by the burning car that had wrecked into it. Eugene noticed that there was no driver at the wheel, which meant he may have to finish what the wreck started if the owner came shambling. The car itself looked nice, a silver mercedes benz, so he considered investigate it for supplies, but decided the risk was not worth the unlikely reward. He tightened his arms across his chest, and continued on down the road.
A dark wind swept through all the broken windows and abandoned streets, whistling softly a tune only Eugene would ever hear. He was tempted to look back at the flag, to see if the wind had lifted it any, but he grimiced at the thought of seeing it reanimate. He had seen enough things reanimated.
It had been two weeks since Marcus died, and the loss had taken its toll. Eugene had seen survivors come and go, in some occasions twice, but Marcus had been close. No matter how many times he played the situation out in his head, he could find no peace, no resolve. The security switch had needed to be pressed, and after they arrived at the landing pad and saw the numbers of undead swarming the building, both men knew it wouldn't be a two way trip. He had been in the process of handing Marcus the anti-virus when the large black man began sprinting towards the building at full speed. There were no smiles, no hand shakes, and no good-byes. Marcus' final words still rang in Eugene's head just as strongly as the day he yelled them, "Eugene! You find those kids of yours, god ~~~~it! I'll come back and claw the ~~~~ outta you if you quit on them!" and after several more long strides, the former police officer raised his crowbar high in the air and yelled, "If you rotting bastards don't get outta my ~~~~ing way, I'll kill you again ~~~~it!" Eugene had been left speechless, staring blankly at the doors of Biotech. What had originally seemed like a safe haven and an answer to all their problems was now his best friend's tomb.
After what had seemed like an eternity passed, the security alarm rose. It rang loudly, echoing throughout the pale walls of the facility. The rattling metal cages at all the doors had added to the audible chaos. Eugene saw it as a poor funeral eulegy, though he was sure Marcus would have made a joke about it.
Eugene snapped out of his brooding as a low moan carried through the city. He decided it was time to pick up the pace. Curiosity eventually took hold of him, and he turned back to look at the American flag he had passed. It was still dead. He had an incomplete anti-virus to deliver, his daughters to find, and a lot of undead to kill.
Naw, the Carrier didn't hit me... Come closer.