Station 1 was a bus station. An thin building with glass and wood planks surrounding most of the walls. A carport stood to the right with a single bus underneath the cover.

Our leather-faced coyote headed toward the bus. Behind us was a mob of angry zombies that had plucked off two out of the remaining 8 that ran with me forward the station.

Six of us gasp for air as we approached the station. Anxious, fearful we just wanted someone to lead us away from danger.

Our coyote was determined to do that but we would have to listen and many in the group were not willing, even with the consequences clear.

“This is a shithole,” said a man that called himself Derrick.

Derrick was a middle-aged, overweight man with an unkept beard. He would be the first to speak out every time. I guess, as he said to me multiple times, it was part of his personality.”

“This was a shithole.” I agreed with Derrick. The whole building was make of glass with some of the window glass busted. There was not a safe place in the shabby city building.

We had a mob of human monsters behind us. A gaggle of infected Taur threatening to flank us on the right.

“We need to find shelter. I don’t really care where that happens,” I said.

The leather faced man pointed toward the bus. I noticed this was a school bus. It’s rear tires had been shredded and it sat against the front door of the bus station. The bus entrance was closed. I ran as fast as I could to that door. Instead of helping the sprint made our situation worse by identifying where we were. The terrible Taur were first to react and galloped toward us. We were going to have to deal with them.

The leather faced man shouted to the other 5 survivors and the entire group ran toward the bus. I slapped the center of the folding bus door, hoping it would open but it did not.

I looked back at the coyote and he signaled I hit the door again so I did, only harder. The door stayed shut. I heard him curse under his breath.

I continued to bang on the door as the others in the group searched for a different entrance. They pushed on the glass and attempted to climb into the building but it was surprising difficult.

Four blind infected Taur galloped toward us. Two men stood closest to them.

The first Taur charged. Sean Baker punctured the Taur’s horse body just behind the front leg. The body fell, crashing into his neighbor. The Taur stumbled sideways as the remaining two struggled to avoid a collision. Sean’s older brother Antoine stepped into the mass of flying hoofs and screams to pull Sean from danger, stood him up and they both ran back to the bus.”

“Get this damn door open,” Antoine spat as he got close.

I looked to leather-face for advice, he shrugged, picked up a walk-in hanging from his side.

“Tweety, open the door, now!”

The response was almost immediate.

“Ai, Scotty… I’m on my way.”

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