Mad World (Book 3): Desperation by Samaire Provost Page A
Authors: Samaire Provost
Tags: Zombies
Ads: Link
safety. Some had even made it.
We drove on the Trans Canada highway, which turned into Route 117 as it curved its way across Canada. First east, then southeast, we drove on, and I sat looking out the window at the mostly abandoned fields and farms. At midday, we stopped in a small town to fuel up and ask questions at a small minimart. That was where they caught us. I think they’d been following us the entire time we drove. How they could have moved so fast was a mystery to us, but somehow the zombie horde led by the zombie king ambushed us. Again.
“What?” DeAndre exclaimed in a higher than normal voice as he looked out the back window. “You have got to be kidding me!” he scrambled to open the door to the SUV and yelled for us all to get our rears back into the vehicle, that danger was coming.
Danger. You could call it that. Personally, I felt hunted. This damned horde of zombies had followed me across hundreds of miles of Canada and was trying again?
I jumped into the SUV with Zach, my energy drink and bag of chips still in one hand as I reached out with the other and slammed the door shut. Jonathan and Dad had hustled in as well, and we all reflexively brought our hand down on the door locks all around us.
“I don’t believe it,” Dad said, looking out the side window as he started our vehicle. It was a very well put together machine, and had been retrofitted with all kinds of protections. Still. I wasn’t the only one who’d feel better putting as much distance between us and the zombies as possible.
The mass of moving zombie flesh was still a quarter of a mile away, but they were moving fast, down a hill and straight toward us.
Other patrons of the gas mart saw what was coming and, amid a series of sudden exclamations and wordless shouts, hustled to their vehicles, or in one case, a motorcycle, and we all went screeching out of that parking lot.
A block from the store, most of the vehicles had peeled off onto side streets. We continued down the main highway, Dad flooring it while the rest of us buckled up and then turned to watch the advancing horde. It seemed we were leaving it behind, which was a very, very good thing. I should have known not to let down my guard. We all should have known.
SCREECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“OH HOLY HELL!”
We all felt the SUV fishtail as Dad tried to regain control of the vehicle, then...
BANG!
BANG!!!
BANGBANGBANG!!!!!!!
THUD!!!!!
As I turned back to sit forward, I felt the blood drain out of me in white-faced shock.
Looking forward out the front windshield, I could see hundreds of zombies pouring out of the side streets, from behind buildings, even up from manhole covers. They moved like lightning, and within seconds, we were surrounded.
To Dad’s credit, he kept us moving forward. We were going about fifty miles per hour, and before long, we were not only driving over zombie bodies, and through zombies we hit with our front bumper, they were also swarming on top of us. Dad had to swerve back and forth to get them off the windshield. But for each monster we hit and ran over, or swerved and flung off our roof and windshield, three replaced it.
It was a nightmare.
The SUV bounced from side to side, careening almost out of control with Dad’s effort to get us free out of this obviously planned and well thought out ambush. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled fists, a determined look on his face. The rest of us watched, speechless, as the zombies swarmed over us like ants over a beetle. We knew if we slowed down at all, or, unthinkably, stopped all together, we were dead.
It was as simple as that. Keep moving or die.
For a while it looked as though we were going to make it. The SUV was built like a tank, with heavy truck tires on a wide wheel base and armor plating with bulletproof windows. Then...
“What’s that ahead?” DeAndre exclaimed from the front passenger seat.
Did you know that zombies could build roadblocks?
Neither did I.
A
We drove on the Trans Canada highway, which turned into Route 117 as it curved its way across Canada. First east, then southeast, we drove on, and I sat looking out the window at the mostly abandoned fields and farms. At midday, we stopped in a small town to fuel up and ask questions at a small minimart. That was where they caught us. I think they’d been following us the entire time we drove. How they could have moved so fast was a mystery to us, but somehow the zombie horde led by the zombie king ambushed us. Again.
“What?” DeAndre exclaimed in a higher than normal voice as he looked out the back window. “You have got to be kidding me!” he scrambled to open the door to the SUV and yelled for us all to get our rears back into the vehicle, that danger was coming.
Danger. You could call it that. Personally, I felt hunted. This damned horde of zombies had followed me across hundreds of miles of Canada and was trying again?
I jumped into the SUV with Zach, my energy drink and bag of chips still in one hand as I reached out with the other and slammed the door shut. Jonathan and Dad had hustled in as well, and we all reflexively brought our hand down on the door locks all around us.
“I don’t believe it,” Dad said, looking out the side window as he started our vehicle. It was a very well put together machine, and had been retrofitted with all kinds of protections. Still. I wasn’t the only one who’d feel better putting as much distance between us and the zombies as possible.
The mass of moving zombie flesh was still a quarter of a mile away, but they were moving fast, down a hill and straight toward us.
Other patrons of the gas mart saw what was coming and, amid a series of sudden exclamations and wordless shouts, hustled to their vehicles, or in one case, a motorcycle, and we all went screeching out of that parking lot.
A block from the store, most of the vehicles had peeled off onto side streets. We continued down the main highway, Dad flooring it while the rest of us buckled up and then turned to watch the advancing horde. It seemed we were leaving it behind, which was a very, very good thing. I should have known not to let down my guard. We all should have known.
SCREECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“OH HOLY HELL!”
We all felt the SUV fishtail as Dad tried to regain control of the vehicle, then...
BANG!
BANG!!!
BANGBANGBANG!!!!!!!
THUD!!!!!
As I turned back to sit forward, I felt the blood drain out of me in white-faced shock.
Looking forward out the front windshield, I could see hundreds of zombies pouring out of the side streets, from behind buildings, even up from manhole covers. They moved like lightning, and within seconds, we were surrounded.
To Dad’s credit, he kept us moving forward. We were going about fifty miles per hour, and before long, we were not only driving over zombie bodies, and through zombies we hit with our front bumper, they were also swarming on top of us. Dad had to swerve back and forth to get them off the windshield. But for each monster we hit and ran over, or swerved and flung off our roof and windshield, three replaced it.
It was a nightmare.
The SUV bounced from side to side, careening almost out of control with Dad’s effort to get us free out of this obviously planned and well thought out ambush. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled fists, a determined look on his face. The rest of us watched, speechless, as the zombies swarmed over us like ants over a beetle. We knew if we slowed down at all, or, unthinkably, stopped all together, we were dead.
It was as simple as that. Keep moving or die.
For a while it looked as though we were going to make it. The SUV was built like a tank, with heavy truck tires on a wide wheel base and armor plating with bulletproof windows. Then...
“What’s that ahead?” DeAndre exclaimed from the front passenger seat.
Did you know that zombies could build roadblocks?
Neither did I.
A
Similar Books
