intervening air, landing on the center of the roof, but sliding toward the back. The incline of the ramp turned the burnished steel top of the truck into an oiled playground slide. As my feet reached the back end, I caught the ridge of steel rivets in the center of the roof with my fingertips. Quickly, I banged my fist against the steel cover twice.
The truck shot forward, and I briefly lifted my head, eyes locked on the half-open door. I flattened my head against the cold metal, fingertips straining to hold their ground.
The bottom edge of the door was a breath of air against my neck, then my back, and finally my hamstrings. Early morning sunlight touched my face as the truck turned to the left, accelerating past and over creatures in the alley, and into the parking lot, toward the road we had abandoned yesterday. Our car sat crumpled against the bright red and white Dairy Queen sign, and the police cruiser was an empty vestige of last night’s nightmare, door askew, window broken. Streaks of red matter trailed out of the open door onto the pavement, and around the front of the car.
I experienced a sudden feeling of karmic satisfaction about the sadistic trooper’s demise until a sudden bump and burst of acceleration sent me slipping again, off the truck, hands grasping in vain for purchase on the slick surface. I fell toward the pavement, grasping air.
Chapter 10
In a last grab for a hold on the roof, I found the lip where the roof ended and the door housing began. I jerked to a halt, my legs flailing behind the truck and then falling down and in to the open doorway. I let go of the roof and fell clumsily, my momentum sending me sprawling onto the floor of the cargo area, landing hard on my side but miraculously avoiding major injury. The truck powered on, followed by whatever creatures we passed and whose attention followed our progress, but whose legs, thankfully, could not follow suit.
I fleetingly glimpsed the bus that must have delivered the football team to us. A green and white monstrosity, it was wrapped around a trio of oak trees behind the linen store. Several bodies lay squirming beneath the overturned vehicle, but their futile efforts were wasted under several tons of steel. Many were missing limbs and all were covered in blood and gore.
I sat there, watching through the back of the truck, as we drove over roads that should be teeming with everyday life but were now occupied only by the undead. The eerie silence of what should have been a normal, loud day was occasionally touched by the sound of gunfire. The world unfolded in reverse, creatures appearing from the left and right, eyes already focused on the truck as it passed, and dead gazes unerringly shifting to me as we moved away, staying with me until we were out of sight.
In stark contrast to last night’s sojourn, where every detail was wreathed in shadow and uncertainty, I could now clearly see the destruction that this plague had wrought in a very short time. The world was unreal, roads littered with stalled and abandoned cars, buildings either burning or marked by violence, windows shattered or pockmarked with bullet holes. There were bodies lying about, some half-eaten, some untouched by the zombies, clearly having been killed by human acts. Apparently they didn’t eat the ones that were dead already. Must be something about the living, maybe the blood or the tissue.
We passed City Hall, which apparently housed the local police station, and observed first hand the results of mass hysteria. Bodies littered the stairs leading to the building and bullet holes peppered the exterior frontal wall. The doors to the hall were broken; jagged shards of glass littered the ground. A dead police horse lay near the entrance, a cloud of flies discernible even from a distance. I gripped the handle to the open door and stared back at the large building, imagining the scene.
Scared people, looking for authority. Authorities, just scared people trying to
The truck shot forward, and I briefly lifted my head, eyes locked on the half-open door. I flattened my head against the cold metal, fingertips straining to hold their ground.
The bottom edge of the door was a breath of air against my neck, then my back, and finally my hamstrings. Early morning sunlight touched my face as the truck turned to the left, accelerating past and over creatures in the alley, and into the parking lot, toward the road we had abandoned yesterday. Our car sat crumpled against the bright red and white Dairy Queen sign, and the police cruiser was an empty vestige of last night’s nightmare, door askew, window broken. Streaks of red matter trailed out of the open door onto the pavement, and around the front of the car.
I experienced a sudden feeling of karmic satisfaction about the sadistic trooper’s demise until a sudden bump and burst of acceleration sent me slipping again, off the truck, hands grasping in vain for purchase on the slick surface. I fell toward the pavement, grasping air.
Chapter 10
In a last grab for a hold on the roof, I found the lip where the roof ended and the door housing began. I jerked to a halt, my legs flailing behind the truck and then falling down and in to the open doorway. I let go of the roof and fell clumsily, my momentum sending me sprawling onto the floor of the cargo area, landing hard on my side but miraculously avoiding major injury. The truck powered on, followed by whatever creatures we passed and whose attention followed our progress, but whose legs, thankfully, could not follow suit.
I fleetingly glimpsed the bus that must have delivered the football team to us. A green and white monstrosity, it was wrapped around a trio of oak trees behind the linen store. Several bodies lay squirming beneath the overturned vehicle, but their futile efforts were wasted under several tons of steel. Many were missing limbs and all were covered in blood and gore.
I sat there, watching through the back of the truck, as we drove over roads that should be teeming with everyday life but were now occupied only by the undead. The eerie silence of what should have been a normal, loud day was occasionally touched by the sound of gunfire. The world unfolded in reverse, creatures appearing from the left and right, eyes already focused on the truck as it passed, and dead gazes unerringly shifting to me as we moved away, staying with me until we were out of sight.
In stark contrast to last night’s sojourn, where every detail was wreathed in shadow and uncertainty, I could now clearly see the destruction that this plague had wrought in a very short time. The world was unreal, roads littered with stalled and abandoned cars, buildings either burning or marked by violence, windows shattered or pockmarked with bullet holes. There were bodies lying about, some half-eaten, some untouched by the zombies, clearly having been killed by human acts. Apparently they didn’t eat the ones that were dead already. Must be something about the living, maybe the blood or the tissue.
We passed City Hall, which apparently housed the local police station, and observed first hand the results of mass hysteria. Bodies littered the stairs leading to the building and bullet holes peppered the exterior frontal wall. The doors to the hall were broken; jagged shards of glass littered the ground. A dead police horse lay near the entrance, a cloud of flies discernible even from a distance. I gripped the handle to the open door and stared back at the large building, imagining the scene.
Scared people, looking for authority. Authorities, just scared people trying to
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