I called Jesse immediately. He drove over as soon as he heard the news, a look of determination and concern on his face. I knew why. He was often the strong guy, not letting his concern for his friends show. He didn't want to look weak. We'd been weak enough. So I said it for him...I'll acknowledge my fears.
"You think Trevor's okay? I only got that one text."
Jesse shrugged but, I knew what was up. We called up John Kautzner and loaded down one of our pilfered trucks (a law enforcement oversight during the last incident) with all the armaments we would need.
I didn't want to leave Christina. Especially now. She seems to be getting a bit worse but, who knows? She gets her sinus issues...and she didn't have a fever. So I left my sidearms next to the bed and gave her some OJ and a cool compress. Not to mention leaving some old friends out in front with the heavy weaponry. It wrenches my stomach that I can't be in two places at once but, that doesn't mean I would leave her unsafe.
We started off, racing down I-55...you don't see a whole lot of cars anymore, or really a whole lot of anything. Jesse maintained a hard visage the whole time, and I kept checking my phone and calling Trevor again and again.
We got to about Dexter when we saw it. In the distance, an SUV sputtered to a halt, and then a man leapt out the driver's door and took off running.
"Jesse..is that?" I asked.
"Let's find out, Chris." Jesse accelerated the truck, and I smacked on the back glass where John sat, cradling the gun turret we'd pilfered several months ago.
Gunshots started echoing in the distance as the man got closer and closer. He wore a dark peacoat and was wielding two wicked looking pistols.
Trevor.
Behind him was...absolute terror. About thirty zombies raced after him full tilt, moans and screams pouring forth from their undead mouths.
"Jesse! Go!" I shouted. He had already seen, and was flooring the truck. The zeds were gaining on Trevor, and while the man was a surgeon with pistols, he was having a hard time aiming behind him. We spun the truck at ten feet, and I jumped out of the passenger door to let Trevor run in.
"Hey buddy," Jesse said as optimistically as possible. Trevor almost fell into the seat, clutching his pistols and heaving heavy breaths.
I, on the other hand, was damn rested. I pulled back the hammer on my assault rifle and started opening up into the horde. They tell you machine guns are terrible against the undead...they just spray bullets and waste ammo. Well, there's a reason my gun ripped the last Alpha Zombies to pieces...and it sure ain't pure accuracy. About ten of the zombies went down from my barrage before my clip emptied, then I hopped back in the truck, which Jesse floored into a 180...leaving John Kautzner facing the remaining twenty with a heavy military issue Vulcan turret. He squeezed the trigger and a hail of bullets flew into the remaining horde as we drove back towards Cape.
"Glad you're not dead, buddy. Tell us everything." I said.
He breathed heavily a couple of times and then he did.
I'm running out of batteries in my laptop. More tomorrow. Suffice to say we made it home. And for now, we're all safe...but for later...
END LOG
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment