the infected trying to run before the disease overcame them, sitting in traffic as their bodies failed them. I kept a wide berth from those cars, making sure not to rouse their inhabitants. We piled them along the road, two deep, leaving just enough of a channel to drive the Jeep through. The last car, though, was completely stuck. Its nose was smashed against the front end of the fire truck, its fenders caved in, the wheels immovable under the twisted body. The driver was still inside, slumped over the steering wheel, a bloody starburst or red on the inside of the windshield where his head hit it in the collision.
Roger came to step beside me as I stared at the car. "No driving that."
"No," I said, "not like this. What about pushing it with the jeep? Nudge it against the back there and shove it out of the way?"
Roger walked around the broken car, looking at the angle of approach we would have to take. "We'll end up coming in broadside. We'll collapse the door and wedge it in tighter against the truck. We may get enough space to pull around."
"It's all we got, right?"
"Well, the problem is, if we don't have the space, we may end up wedging ourselves in and not be able to get out."
Amy walked over, looking at the last car with us, her arms folded. "We could try to tip it."
I looked at her incredulously.
"What?"
"Tip it? As in, push it over?"
She nodded with a smirk, "Yeah, why not? I mean, it's just a little two-door, right? We get under it and push it on to its side, then it's easy to roll it over onto the roof, and it's out of our way."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "It's still a car, Amy. We can't just pick it up and move it aside like a piece of furniture."
She smiled, "Sure we can. Just get it rocking on the springs, then lift. At school a few of the basketball players tipped a car bigger than this one as a prank."
Roger shook his head with a smirk, "Shitty prank. Surprise, body damage!"
"They were careful! Only a few scratches and a broken mirror."
I held my hands out, "Alright, alright, enough stories. C'mon let's give it a go. If we can't lift it we'll bring the Jeep in and try Plan A."
We all lined up on the driver's side of the car, taking position so that we could grab it from underneath. "Alright," I said, "on three. One, two, three!" We started to rock it, up and down, a little harder each time, letting the suspension do as much of the work as possible, but as we lifted we couldn't seem to get the wheels to lift more than a couple inches off the ground. We held it there, suspended, all of us grunting and struggling. My arms burned with the strain as I tried to heave it over. Roger let out a sharp gasp as he lost his grip. Amy and I let go immediately, and it landed back on the ground with a thump.
From his perch Eli said "Guys..."
Roger muttered and said, "OK, one more shot at this, I think we can do it."
"Guys!" Eli's voice rose.
I moved back to the side of the car, crouching down. "Ok, you guys in, let's go, and--"
"GUYS!"
We stopped our countdown, and I growled in frustration. "Damnit, Eli, what?" I turned to face him.
He was pointing up the hill, beyond our parked Jeep. I could see a mass of bodies, shambling in a cluster, shoulder to shoulder. There must have been over a hundred of them, the original group picking up stragglers as it moved, following our trail. They whined and groaned loudly, a cacophony of noise echoing in the clear summer day. From all around us we could hear more. Every dead thing in the cars woke, the call of their brethren causing their spark to ignite. I could see monsters trapped in locked cars, flailing and pawing at broken windshields and tugging on seatbelts. My skin crawled. I could feel cold sweat running down my back. The distinct feeling of being surrounded, of being trapped, consumed me.
Roger came to step beside me as I stared at the car. "No driving that."
"No," I said, "not like this. What about pushing it with the jeep? Nudge it against the back there and shove it out of the way?"
Roger walked around the broken car, looking at the angle of approach we would have to take. "We'll end up coming in broadside. We'll collapse the door and wedge it in tighter against the truck. We may get enough space to pull around."
"It's all we got, right?"
"Well, the problem is, if we don't have the space, we may end up wedging ourselves in and not be able to get out."
Amy walked over, looking at the last car with us, her arms folded. "We could try to tip it."
I looked at her incredulously.
"What?"
"Tip it? As in, push it over?"
She nodded with a smirk, "Yeah, why not? I mean, it's just a little two-door, right? We get under it and push it on to its side, then it's easy to roll it over onto the roof, and it's out of our way."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "It's still a car, Amy. We can't just pick it up and move it aside like a piece of furniture."
She smiled, "Sure we can. Just get it rocking on the springs, then lift. At school a few of the basketball players tipped a car bigger than this one as a prank."
Roger shook his head with a smirk, "Shitty prank. Surprise, body damage!"
"They were careful! Only a few scratches and a broken mirror."
I held my hands out, "Alright, alright, enough stories. C'mon let's give it a go. If we can't lift it we'll bring the Jeep in and try Plan A."
We all lined up on the driver's side of the car, taking position so that we could grab it from underneath. "Alright," I said, "on three. One, two, three!" We started to rock it, up and down, a little harder each time, letting the suspension do as much of the work as possible, but as we lifted we couldn't seem to get the wheels to lift more than a couple inches off the ground. We held it there, suspended, all of us grunting and struggling. My arms burned with the strain as I tried to heave it over. Roger let out a sharp gasp as he lost his grip. Amy and I let go immediately, and it landed back on the ground with a thump.
From his perch Eli said "Guys..."
Roger muttered and said, "OK, one more shot at this, I think we can do it."
"Guys!" Eli's voice rose.
I moved back to the side of the car, crouching down. "Ok, you guys in, let's go, and--"
"GUYS!"
We stopped our countdown, and I growled in frustration. "Damnit, Eli, what?" I turned to face him.
He was pointing up the hill, beyond our parked Jeep. I could see a mass of bodies, shambling in a cluster, shoulder to shoulder. There must have been over a hundred of them, the original group picking up stragglers as it moved, following our trail. They whined and groaned loudly, a cacophony of noise echoing in the clear summer day. From all around us we could hear more. Every dead thing in the cars woke, the call of their brethren causing their spark to ignite. I could see monsters trapped in locked cars, flailing and pawing at broken windshields and tugging on seatbelts. My skin crawled. I could feel cold sweat running down my back. The distinct feeling of being surrounded, of being trapped, consumed me.
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