Elena walked down her driveway, which, legally existed as a private road. Perhaps it was more of a shuffle since each step carried the crunch of gravel as she dragged her feet.

  Arms to her side, blood pooled and accumulated until it collected on her fingertips. These droplets periodically splashed against the maroon dirt without alerting Elena. Her hair had a dual-demeanor: half in a ponytail with strands pulled out and disheveled. She was wearing a sundress with no sweater in defiance of the cold. Elena’s frame small against the road – she used to joke that she could hide behind any tree.

  18 cars, maybe 20 if you have any of those newer electric-cars parking – Elena’s real estate agent once shared. Private road, you could change it if you called up the county. Might be a form. Elena hated having to coordinate snow removal each year. She hated the gravel, but a parking lot for maybe 20 cars was not in her family’s budget.

  It was great for a family though. Perfect place to raise children. Perfect ranch with opportunity for a hobby farm. No ordinance on chickens, and they were told by their agent to probably wait until they take in larger animals. It didn’t seem possible at the time. It seemed absolutely improbable at the moment.

  Elena used to tell her husband, whose name currently escapes her, that she didn’t mind the walk from the house to the mail box at the end of their street. But she did. She absolutely did not care for the walk itself. The silence you could enjoy in the early morning, sure, but it was mostly a cold, muddy mess. At least it was hers.

  Elena minded the walk this time. More than she would have before. More than she probably would again. Blood kept dripping, like a faucet she never got around to fixing. It was behind her at least. The wind was steady and it blew against her sundress. Each gust led a row of goosebumps and she began to rub her hands against her arms for warmth.

  Elena’s knuckles hurt. They were bleeding. She didn’t want to look at them yet. Her wedding band was lost in the flesh and blood somewhere.

  Elena was about ? of the way down her private roadway when she first noticed. Shouting carried itself in the wind from afar. She refused to turn around, but she hadn’t determined not to look around in front of her.

  On the road was a car accident. Across the street her neighbors’ front door lay open slapping itself against the house. There weren’t people to be found yet, rather the remains of something.

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  Lamentations were thrown aside to curiosity as she approached the road a bit faster in determination. She was still a bit cold, bloody, and sore.

  It appeared as if there was a head-on collision. She could now see the remains of one driver in a car seat. They appeared to be deceased from the crash.

  “Hello?” Elena rubbed her arms and asked no one in particular.

  Guttural noises that you could only describe as someone spitting from the back of their throat sounded from behind the second and empty car.

  Elena startled. No other sounds yet.

  Elena inquired: “Are you okay?”

  The guttural scream howled with urgency.

  Elena inched towards the side of the empty vehicle. On the road directly outside of the driver’s door was what could be interpreted as a human. As she looked closer – it was human. It was a wretched man or woman whose face had been damaged beyond recognition. Bloody and almost toothless. The eyes pierced through with an unwarranted fierceness. They stared directly at Elena as the arms attempted to rise. Guttural wails continued and their pervasive eyes spoke hate, rage, fury, frenzy, and an infuriation that could only be communicated through spasms.

  “What the fuck…” Elena said, covering her mouth.

  Elena stepped away and looked up to a crashing sound across the street. Her neighbor was currently fighting who Elena thought was his own son? Maybe nephew. She never cared to know. They clawed and slammed their fists against each other. Their mouths foamed as they both tried to roar. Ultimately, no words could form. Their bodies wrestled and the younger fell onto the older. Sonnernephew’s stamina won and he hammered blow after blow against his dadderuncle’s face. Elena couldn’t feel her legs. Her entire focus in her eyes as the rest of her body forgot itself.

  Sonnernephew stopped as it became clear he was victorious through his opponent’s death. He stopped and blubbered as he looked at his own fists while sobbing. He was incredulous and crying between the words why and dad. Elena’s mouth fell agape. All she could fathom was that she finally knew how they were related. What was wrong with her? She asked herself this so often, but right now it felt like the right question. It had to be. She just saw her neighbor kill a man after stepping away from a half-dead accident survivor. This can’t be right.

  The son stumbled up. His legs were exhausted and burned from exertion. Muscles in his arm that he didn’t realize existed made his limbs feel like they weighed a thousand pounds. The son knew exhaustion but this was different.

  Elena made direct eye contact when the son turned around. She started to feel her legs again. A torrent of blood rushed through her body. RUN. Every nerve in her body played the same tune and she started running.

  The son ran behind her finding a newfound energy. He bellowed out different insults and curses as he chased her.

  Elena ran and ran until her lungs breathed fire. She didn’t keep track of the time and didn’t notice that she even lost her pursuer after a few minutes. She ran until her feet felt like curling up. Until her shins felt like they split in half. Until her heartbeat rang in her molars.

  At that point Elena slowed down, but she never quite stopped running.