Rocco’s heart was pounding, hammering away within his chest cavity. Blood flowed loudly past his ears. He hadn’t stopped walking in hours. His leg muscles were on fire, and he would have given anything to have worn sneakers today. If only he’d known.
The others had stopped to rest. They were probably dead now, swallowed up by the hordes now filling the city. Rocco fished out his phial of coke and took another snort, to stay amped. Cocaine kept him moving. As long as he kept moving, he would be safe.
His doctor had warned, “that stuff will kill you”.