Ray drove across the large field, heading east. His large car virtually plowed through the wet soil. He looked at the dancing hula-girl that his son had given him. He killed the hula-girl with a fist full of frustration. His eyes watches cautiously around the open field. There were no other way. The road that crawled parallel with his rout was clogged with cars. Some empty, some containing dead people. A few of the later ones moved.<br/>"Important note: Charlies density seems to decrease in this direction. Keeping it steady."<br/>He spoke with a low voice. He had done this stubbornly the last 28 hours, to keep himself awake and to remind himself that he was still living.<br/>He had given Charlie a thought ever since PONOR*. Did one know when he turned into one? How did it spread? What happened to his family?<br/>All those questions were grade 10 questions. He had given different thoughts different grades, representing the emotional stress they caused. He was only permitted to think grade 10's when he had food, and was on his mental top. He wouldn't permit himself to go mad, so the only grades permitted during voyage was grade 1 and 2, which was subconscious fits of rage and bodily functions. His mental notes were over those rules.<br/>He blinked. He was about to enter some sort of town or city. He slowed down and began to think out loud.<br/>"Should I enter the city? It looks abandoned, and I frankly need some sleep. Food to... And weapons. A firearm would surely make things safer for me."<br/>He wasn't even considering other survivors. He was one in a kind.<br/>"Settled, we will enter the town, but we will only move by day. They did attack during night the last time. When... No Ray, no grade 10 now, keep away. Keep going"<br/>He decided to speed up, too, if there were Charlies there.<br/><br/>The city was empty, but he didn't dare to stop and get out of his car, which by the way was running out of gas. He cruised for a short while, but stopped the car at the beginning of a long stretch. He looked at a sign.<br/><em>North Missouri st.</em><br/>There were a brick house at the end of the road. And dead, well not moving Charlies. Everywere. He decided to speed there. Someone had managed to take a respective number of them the the right side of afterlife. His hummer roared as he sped, removing distance. Then something happened. He heard a loud "BUMP" and the front jumped a bit. He almost stood on the brake, but they seemed to be out of order as the car slided completely out of control, as if he were driving on ice. He closed his eyes in panic. He became weightless as the car rolled when the horizontal force won over the tires struggle to keep contact with the road. The roof of the car slammed into a large building.<br/>Ray lost consciousness<br/><br/>Anyone observing this afterwards would see a large pile of dead Zachs, with two marks, resembling cartracks that have crossed the pile. A large deep red streak leads down the road, ending with a mutilated, half of the body sunderscraped. Near that point, at the intersection between Missouri and Breton street, is a tipped over, crashed hummer.