Keep Going

The engine squeals in protest as I stomp on the gas.

“Go, go, go!” Alissa shouts, and the old car roars as we shoot forwards, out into bright sunlight.

The first thing I see is blood; a zombie was standing right outside, and as the Range Rover rams into the body, a thick, gooey, dark substance sprays across the windshield. Next to me, Alissa cries out in surprise and grabs hold of the side of the door for dear life as we barrel down the hill.

I maintain a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as we rush down, gaining speed way too quickly; I’m about to…

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Brooke Schwartz

Professional writer, editor, and tutor; social justice advocate; Orthodox Jew; dedicated Grammar Auror