The End

November 29, 2010
By Michael1 BRONZE, Dutch Harbor, Alaska
Michael1 BRONZE, Dutch Harbor, Alaska
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

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It was like any other day, go to work, get yelled at from the boss, and go straight home. We humans do this until we die, and the routine is passed on to others and replace us. You might think that working in San Francisco is peaceful, I beg to differ. My job as an auto-repair man tires me, and doesn’t seem to benefit me at all. I’m basically in debt, and you know how life is in that situation. You can’t pay for your bills, your house is a total wreck, and you live alone. My parents didn’t know this was going to happen, but I knew it was coming. Mom always told me go to college and come back with bucks piled up on my hands; instead I’m working my butt off on cars and didn’t go to college at all. I can already imagine Tony’s Auto Shop in big bold letters in San Francisco’s Daily newspaper, ranked as the number one auto shop in the city. As for me, I’m in the background of the picture with a fake smile upon my face.


“Hey Chad, we got a big operation to hit at three. His name is Pat, a good friend of mine. So watch the clock as I go to the store,” Gordon said.
“Pat?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, Pat. He brings broken down cars from the city into the shop. It’s what keeps our shop alive.” He answered. “So take it easy on the guy.” I looked at him and nodded as I continued working on a truck with an engine problem.

Gordon had known Tony (the owner of the shop) since they were little kids and had become great friends. They were born and raised in Fresno, California and left together at the age of eighteen to UCSF (University of California San Francisco). About a year later, they quit college and decided to make their own auto shop, which had been going great for them. About two years later I came, and they were satisfied by my skill to fix engines at a fast pace. I was able to get the job and earn ten dollars an hour.

I looked back at the clock and found out it was three-twenty five in the afternoon. I remembered suddenly about the operation we were going to have at three, which I had forgotten. As I looked at the garage door, I could see a fist trying to penetrate through the solid steel of the garage.

“Hey, is anyone there?” a man asked as he banged his fist on the garage door.

“Yeah hold on,” I answered. I grabbed onto the handle and opened the garage door. As soon as it opened, the bright sunlight hit me and I immediately felt the heat rush onto my skin; it burned.

“I’ve been waiting forever,” the man complained. “You know how San Francisco can be on days like this.”

“I apologize; may I see your car?” I asked politely.

“Can you quit that formal talk!” the man yelled furiously with his long hair tucked back neatly. He wore a black-leather tuxedo with his collar flipped upwards. The man also had light specks of hair on his chin and looked as if he were one of those mafia members from the movie the Godfather.

“Sure,” I answered. “You must be Pat, a good friend of Gordon.”

“Yeah, and without me this shop wouldn’t be doing this great.”

“I agree.”

“Well my baby out there is dead, and I have a wedding to go to tomorrow,” the man said. I need you to fix it before the wedding or I’m -,”

“Your car,” I interrupted.
“No,” Pat answered sarcastically. I walked up to the car and looked at it with admiration. “A BMW 3.0 Cc-SL?!” I stuttered. The car was a golden and red color and shined with cleanliness. It seemed like it wasn’t scratched at all. I was impressed by the modification of the car, which made other BMW’s seem as if they were worthless.

“The colors were painted by Alexander Calder, one of America’s BEST sculptors.”

“Must cost thousands of dollars,” I commented.

“More like millions,” the man corrected. I looked at the left side of the car and noticed that one of the wheels was flat. I examined it thoroughly, trying to find the cause of its flattening. All of a sudden, I saw a nail pierced onto the thick tire and caused a hole on the other end.

“I believe this is the problem,” I pointed. I grabbed some pliers and took out the nail with patience.

“Dang construction workers, they can never clean up their toys,” the man said. I looked at him and laughed.

The man thanked me for the recovery of his car, and headed to the wedding that awaited him.
Meanwhile, in Las Vegas, Nevada…
“Alright sir, were about two hours away from San Francisco and have the weapon safely in its box,” I said through the radio.
“You know that you’re taking a big responsibility Corporal. If anyone finds out about this weapon, the industry will be sued.” Commander Hadden replied.
“I know, but I assure you that everything will be fine.”
“I hope you’re correct. This weapon maybe small, but can it can disintegrate a whole city. This will cost many lives Peter.
“Yes, I know sir.”
“Do not disappoint me.” Adam and I were on a mission to deliver a bomb to the San Francisco’s Military Service Facility. Commander Hadden wouldn’t tell us what the scientists there are going to do with the bomb or how they would use it, but we’ve been warned many times. He told us not to touch the bomb and to open the box where the bomb was being held. Adam, my partner for this mission, had been tempted to touch it the whole trip.
“Don’t touch it,” I said to him an hour before. Adam slowly moved his hand to the box, but I grabbed it in time before he could touch it.
Thirty-Minutes later…
“Hey Peter are we there yet?” Adam asked as he walked into the cockpit.
“We’re about an hour and a half away. We should be landing in San Francisco around 7:30 in the evening. How’s the weapon Adam?”
“It’s sitting on the counter,” Adam answered. All of a sudden, the sirens of the plane rang loudly.
“What the h*#@ is going on,” I exclaimed.
“The emergency latches opened,” Adam answered hesitantly.
I quickly put the plane on auto-pilot, and both men immediately left the cockpit. As I held onto seats because of the tremendous force that was trying to pull us outside the plane, we were able to close the latches successfully.

“Is the box still on the counter?” I asked as I was breathing heavily. Adam quickly went to the counter that was next to the cockpit, which was also near the main emergency latch.

“It’s not here!” Adam yelled. I then ran up to Adam and held him by the neck, trying to figure out whether he was lying or not.

“Don’t be playing jokes on me, Adam! Is it really gone?”

“Ye-Yes,” Adam stuttered. I let go immediately, and looked out from the small windows on the first row of seats.

“What is it?” Adam asked.

“That was a bomb.”

One day after accidental bombing…

“Just last night, a bomb had hit the Nuclear Works Facility of SF at 6:45 p.m. and killed at least fifteen workers. The incident is unknown, and may have been another terrorist attack. Although, investigators are still trying to uncover the situation and may take months before the case is solved. Also, to the many pedestrians of San Francisco, the police have warned many people that the chemicals that were released from the facility maybe harmful. So they suggest that you wear a mask if you’re walking or to keep your car windows closed at all times. In other news-” I turned off the T.V. and concentrated back onto my cereal which was turning soggy. I took big spoonfuls and once I was done, it was back to my daily routine. As soon as I was about to leave, my dog Charles came up to me. He began to whine loudly, so I patted it on the head softly to comfort the beagle.

Once I went into my car, Tony called. My phone rang loudly as I was starting up my old bummed out car. The door of the car is rusty, and seems like it would fall off when you open it. Also the engine screeches as it starts, so many of the people that live near me are complaining about its unpleasant sound.

“Hello,” I said into my phone.

“Hey Chad it’s Tony. Did you hear about the bombing?” He asked.

“Yeah, I have a T.V. you know.”

“Alright, just get to the shop and keep your car windows closed as you pass through the facility. We don’t need any more people dying in San Francisco,” Tony said and hung up.

As I drove by the nuclear facility, debris was scattered everywhere and signs all over the broken down facility said “Don’t breathe in the air.” The area looked abandoned, and had no others cars passing by or people walking with their masks on. Then when I looked in front of me, I hit a man! I ran outside my car immediately with my shirt covering my mouth.

“Are you alright sir, I’m so sorry,” I apologized. The man looked at me blankly and got up slowly. The skin of the man’s face was nearly torn, with blood all over his shirt as if he just came out of a slaughter house. He looked at me with he’s blood shot eyes and growled. All of a sudden, he lunged into me and pushed me into the car and attempted to bite me.
“What are you doing, are you crazy!” I screamed. The man scratched me continuously and made a cut on my arm. I yelled in pain and had no choice but to kick the man down. He fell back hard and got back up quickly. I went into my car quickly and drove off. Once I got to the shop, Tony and Gordon were outside smoking.

“You guys won’t believe this,” I panicked.

“I don’t believe anything you say,” Tony laughed.

“No, this is a serious matter,” I answered back. After I told them the incident, they did not believe me. They thought I was insane and laughed as I explained it. Was I hallucinating or was the scene real?

“Look Chad, I don’t see the situation as realistic. I don’t believe that a crazed man would just go up to you and attack you unexpectedly,” Gordon said. He took a sip from his mug cup that he received from Tony as a gift for his birthday last year.

“Hey I just got a call that all citizens of San Francisco have to go to city hall,” Tony said. Gordon looked at me him curiously and asked,


“I’m not so sure, but it’s important.” Tony started up his Chrysler PT cruiser which was very compact and had an attractive lime color. Once we reached the Thomson’s City Hall of San Francisco, there were many military soldiers scattered around the area while holding their guns and many civilians standing in the fields of city hall. Around the whole city hall was a fence with its swirled needles on the top where no one could escape.

As we walked to the entrance, two soldiers with gas masks came up to us.

“Sir, before you can go in I will need to see your passport,” the soldier in the right said.

“Passports?! No one ever mentioned bringing a passport,” I shouted.

“Sir, it was broadcasted on television, the radio in your car, and I’m pretty sure you should have gotten the message,” the second soldier commented. “Either you can go back to the city and be left behind or you can pay over there at the counter for a ticket.”

“Left behind? What is going on here?” Tony asked.

“It’s classified. But we were told to get all civilians out of San Francisco immediately.” We were all flabbergasted by the situation we were in. We did not bring our passport and if we did not do anything soon, we’ll be left behind with something that all the people in San Francisco feared.
All of a sudden, we heard guns being shot in the fields and people screaming in terror. Alarms started going off with its loud roaring sound that could be heard miles away into the country-side. Many people started to scatter around the area, pushing others to escape the conflict.

“Please don’t kill me!” a woman pleaded as she was fleeing from the madness and into the city with no control.
“Which ones infected?” a soldier asked hesitantly as the horde of people were rushing into their direction.
“Just shoot them all!” another soldier answered. The soldiers started firing at the innocent people, who they thought were infected. The scene was gruesome and dramatic, but there was no other way to stop it.
“They’ve breached through the barricades, we have to get out of here!” Soldiers began retreating into helicopters and bullet-proof cars, as they were being attacked by the insane creatures. One of them was able to grab a soldier and began to feast on him. All you can hear is the munching of bones and skin being torn.
“Help, please help,” the man begged. As we ran back into the car, a crazed man ran up to Tony and knocked him off his feet.

“Get him off me!” Tony commanded. The man began scratching Tony uncontrollably and as the man was about to bite him, he was shot. I ducked once I heard the gunshot and discovered that one of the soldiers we’ve talked to saved Tony.

“You guys are not safe here. Here, take this map. I’ve highlighted a route where there should be another way to get out of the city.”

“Can you please tell us what is going on?” I asked.

“I’m sorry but I got to go. If security at your destination asks you any questions, just tell them it was orders from Steven Johnsons. I’m going to save many lives today boys, and your one of them.” The fearful soldier walked into the battlefield with his squad, where a mass conflict had begun. After, I went up to the dead body and turned it over. The man was wearing a tuxedo and had his hair combed back firmly. Then I said to the dead man “I hoped you enjoyed the wedding,” and walked to the car.

One day later…

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked Gordon. Gordon looked at the map once more and looked back on the road.

“I think,” he answered. “Tony, are you alright back there?” I turned to Tony, and saw that he was having trouble to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, I think I’m doing okay. Ever since that crazy man attacked me, I’ve been having trouble seeing.”

“Well once we get out of this mess, will figure out how to help you,” I replied to make him feel comfortable. The route we we’re taking led us to many abandon towns during the time of the “Gold Rush,” and finally we took a stop near a gas station. Gordon slowly parked the car near a gas tank and opened the glove department in front of me. In there was a gun that none of us knew about.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he cocked the pistol.

“Safety first,” he answered. “If those monstrous people are in San Francisco, they might’ve gotten farther.” Gordon began putting gas into the car and smoked a cigarette as he waited. We were about an hour away from our destination, and maybe our salvation. But the wait exhausts Tony and I, especially that we are low on water and food.

As I was searching in the glove department for any little candies I could eat, I found a newspaper that was created just yesterday. The section was titled A Diseased Bomb.

“About two days after the bombing on the Nuclear Works Facility of SF, many people began to get sick from the radiation. The symptoms of the sickness were nausea, hallucinations, and teeth rotting. Afterwards, people began reporting that the sick would go insane; growling, throwing objects around and running around aimlessly. It was later when John Abraham was bitten by his wife, Carol Thompson, who was infected with the sickness as well. Police took them to the hospital immediately, and later took them into the Science Workhouse downtown of San Francisco. Scientists began testing how the infected behave and soon discovered that they feed off of human flesh and blood. The military took action quickly and tried to contain who was infected in the workhouse.

“I know that San Francisco is in terrible danger right now, but it is not the end. Scientists around the world are trying to find the cure of this infection, but for now we must stay cautious from these zombie-like creatures. If we want to stop this infection from spreading, we must work together. Blaming others will not do any help.” –Commander Hadden said during an interview.

“Alright I’m going into-,” Gordon was suddenly interrupted from a loud scream. As Gordon turned around, a group of the infected people came after him. He immediately started shooting, killing one on the ground.

“Come on! You can’t kill all of them,” I said. Gordon ran into the car and closed the door. When he turned the key, the car wouldn’t start.

“Oh my god, it’s not turning on!”

“Hurry, they’re coming!” The crazed group of people jumped onto the car and started punching the car windows to retrieve us. Gordon then tossed me the gun and I started shooting through the windshield that once protected us from these insane creatures. One of them fell, and I knew right away I killed it.

“Help,” Tony screamed. As I turned around, I saw two creatures trying to get a hold of Tony and drag him outside. I took a couple shots at the body of the first create, but the second quickly dragged Tony outside.

“(Fill in the blank),” I cursed. Suddenly the car started, and Gordon drove in reverse and hit one of the zombies like creatures. The creature flew back a tremendous distance and you can hear the thump as it hit the ground. I ran outside and saw Tony; his eyes were closed and I did not hear the sound of breathing either. I finally got the idea that he was dead, and Gordon stood there with hopelessness.

“We got to keep moving,” he said, ending the silence.


It was morning when we’ve arrived at our destination. Four helicopters waited for the last remaining survivors of San Francisco to be brought somewhere safer than here. The area was protected by many soldiers and had towers with movable lights to detect enemies.

“Were finally here,” I said exhaustedly.

“But Tony didn’t make it,” Gordon said sadly. “Tony can’t just die like that.”

“I know, but there’s nothing that we can do.”

“Actually there is, I’m staying and killing them all,” Gordon said as he walked away. I grabbed his shirt quickly and said “Are you crazy?”

“Tony is my best friend, and it’s my fault that he died. So if this means killing all those insane creatures will make him believe that I am a good friend, then I’ll do it.”

“He’s dead! Gordon, he is dead! There is no way you can bring him back.” Gordon looked at me angrily, but walked away as if he never heard what I just had said to him. I couldn’t stop him, and the only way to get out of this mess was to keep moving.

“Helicopters will be leaving in five minutes!” a soldier announced. I went through the entrance and followed a path that led into a runway. I jumped into one helicopter where a family looked at me with fear. As I looked at the horizon, the usual San Francisco sunlight rose solemnly. The helicopter began rising as well, and when I looked down soldiers began firing their guns at the crazed creatures. Two helicopters began losing control and crashed against each other, causing a big explosion over the area.

“What do you call those things down there,” I asked the pilot.

“Insane people,” the pilot laughed. As I looked down once more, I saw Gordon aiding the soldiers, killing almost all of the infected. I had lost two friends and a home that I once lived. I had no idea where I was going, but it must be better than San Francisco.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Dec. 15 2010 at 2:04 pm
Michael1 BRONZE, Dutch Harbor, Alaska
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

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Good job man, keep on writing.

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