As Murphy reached for the weapon, a rushing sound from behind caused him to pause. The crunching of cars and the screaming of the mob in pursuit grew louder. Murphy pulled his knife and crouched low to look under the rear of an abandoned vehicle. He shoved the knife into the car’s fuel tank and rocked the blade until fuel poured out onto the street.
“What are you doing?” Jacob asked.
"Giving us some time.” He pulled the blade from the tank and tossed a match to the ground, the gasoline whooshing and flashing brightly as it ignited.
“Go, Go, Go!” Murphy cried out, taking off at a sprint and leading the way into the tunnel.
Chapter Seventeen
Fire blazed, casting orange-tinted light over the path ahead. Black smoke billowed and rolled to the roof of the overpass above, catching the top and spilling forward. Jacob could feel the heat at his back. He heard the sounds of tires exploding, windows cracking, and sheet metal buckling under the extreme temperature. He struggled to stay with Murphy who was running, dodging abandoned cars, and leaping hoods like a world-class hurdler. Jacob picked up on the sounds of the mob behind him and the steady rate of gunfire to his front.
Moving through the smoke to the tunnel’s exit, he spotted Stephens kneeling against a concrete wall; his rifle was already up taking aimed shots as he attempted to suppress a small group moving toward them. Tyree stood over his shoulder with both arms extended, firing Jacob’s pistol. Murphy closed in on the group as the last of the things fell to their fire.
“How much farther is it to the cemetery?” Jacob asked.
“It’s just ahead, past the elevated platforms,” Tyree said, getting to his feet.
“Good, we need to keep moving; the fire won’t hold them. It won’t be long before they figure out they can go over the Skyway,” Murphy said, moving them out.
The two-lane road ahead was strewn with rubble; bits of broken concrete covered the abandoned cars, their windshields broken and pushed in. Buildings on both sides of the road showed damage from the bombing. Murphy marched them ahead, hugging the wall on the left side. Again, the road descended while it moved under the elevated railway tracks. From a distance, the station and platforms appeared abandoned. No trains, no movement. They patrolled through the area and continued on to the empty void where the road opened back into a commercial zone.
They stopped at an empty intersection. Storefronts stood in ruins on all corners, their faces a mess of shattered plate glass windows. Empty teargas canisters and riot gear littered the ground. A knocked-over police barricade explained the lack of abandoned vehicles ahead. The street to the left was scattered with bodies, the buildings pockmarked from gunfire. Murphy surveyed the now empty street before turning back to Tyree. “Where to now?”
“We have to go another block up that way then we’ll see the cemetery wall on the other corner, toward the lake,” Tyree said, pointing.
In the direction Tyree pointed, gunfire raged, broken only by the sounds of explosions. Occasionally, a group of unknown people would run down the street, traveling right to left toward the heart of the city. A group of attack helicopters flew low over the street, heading west at high speed to approach the city center. Sounds of rockets and heavy machine guns rocked the ground. All the while, human screams mixed with the howling of the Others.
Murphy sat silently looking ahead, concern in his eyes. After a moment, he looked at Tyree. “You sure there isn’t another way?”
“If we go around, it’ll take us all night and keep us on the streets.”
Murphy nodded thoughtfully and turned to Stephens but spoke so they all could hear. “They’re up there. When we hit the wall, we have to get over it fast. We get these two over first, then you, and I’ll go last.”
Stephens nodded in agreement and flashed a thumbs up as Murphy turned so that he could see into all of their faces. “We have to get to the wall; no stopping… if you go down… get back up.” He pointed. “That is the kill box; we can’t stay in it!”
He paused as a truck raced down the intersection to the north, the front end swallowed in flames and the bed filled with the Others beating the cab. It continued through the far intersection while racing away from the city.
Jacob looked at the chaos in horror. Sounds of the things behind them grew closer while gunfire and destruction lay ahead. “You sure about all of this?” he gasped.
Murphy shook his head. “This city is lost and we’re in the middle of it. We must get out now or not at all. Hug the storefronts; at the last corner, we sprint for the wall. Stay behind me, shoot anything that isn’t us, and do not stop!” He reached out a hand and squeezed Stephens’ shoulder before taking off to cross the street, running with his head down and rifle up. He briefly looked left down the near street then pushed ahead, crossing the intersection.
Stephens nudged Jacob in the back and told him to move. Jacob stepped off fast, running to keep pace with the Murphy. Still a hundred yards to the next block, he could already see the orange glow of fires and the blue smoke of gunfire. A pack of the Others cut across the street ahead; three continued across to move deeper into the city, the fourth stopped and looked in Jacob’s direction, catching the attention of the fifth.
The pair turned and took a step in Jacob’s direction. Before Jacob could call out a warning, Murphy had his rifle in action, firing at the one to
