Always have a back up plan. Once you lock into panic mode, logic slips away. But if you have even a gist of a plan, you can cling to this through muggings, fires and earthquakes, until safety is yours.
When the dead walked, vehicles soon crashed into poles at triple figure speeds. Shops that opened at nine closed by midday. Blood stained every pavement. But I had my back up plan.
This one had been designed for forest fires, but still provided an ideal solution. My go bag was packed and ready, and I filled my canteen in under a minute. The sole issue was putting on my wetsuit, which added another five minutes of prep time. Many rotting hands already knocked on the door when I clambered out the back window.
The air smelt of old cigarettes and hot electronics. I jogged through the forest, pine needles my only friends, taking slow, steady breaths. A hand waved from the side of the path, but I do not know if they were living or dead.
They were dead on the beach though. Thank goodness for wide open spaces. I weaved behind a lifeguard missing his forearm, and dived into the sea.
Goggles was my first thought when the goat cheese tang of salt water stung my retinas. My wetsuit struggled against the icy grasp of the waves, but I clung to the details of the plan. Each long deep stroke took me further away from the shore.
Flames from the city turned the waves golden. Far up in the sky an aeroplane still pushed on. The moans of a thousand voices made me dream of ear plugs. I expanded into a star float, and closed my eyes.
I am floating on my back now. The watchers wait on the shore. My rucksack is a boulder. The fires still burn. I have to hope someone is still alive. That I will be picked up soon. My plan was effective. But the next one will have to begin soon.
