...the dead shall walk the earth.

A solitary figure walks alongside the freeway. The road is mostly empty, aside from the abandoned vehicle spotted in the shoulders. He seemed to be carrying a screwdriver, perhaps a knife. The object glistens as my headlights shine on the man. Where are you going? I slow down to look at him, he is wrapped in white scrubs. His face has the gaunt and lifeless expression the rest of the undead seem to have. An escaped patient perhaps, or a nurse that got infected. He brings his eyes up to mine as I slowly drive by him, the look of death and hunger strike me. His hollow eyes peering into my frightened soul. A shudder slowly waltzes up my spinal column. The hairs on my neck scream in pain. He raises his emaciated arm and brandishes his utensil, it is in fact a knife. I notice blood and motor oil on his shirt. It is torn. His mouth gapes open and exposes fractured teeth, he yells. I cannot decipher what he is saying, the animalistic noise coming out of him is not logical. He is dead inside, infected, one of them. I look away and drive on.