up to rest on a branch so he could get some stability for his shots. Justin was doing the same. The bulkers were moving forward with as much speed as they could generate in fifteen feet. The truck rocked violently from the impact, Gary steadied BT as his footing slipped.
“Gary, you have to go. If you don’t go, I don’t, and if something happens to Henry, Mike is going to flip the fuck out.”
“Yeah, he’d probably be more pissed about that than anything else.”
“That’s a fair assessment. Come on, I’ll help you out. Fear of heights?” BT asked tenderly.
“Not at all…fear of climbing.”
BT shook his head. “Is that even such a thing?” he asked as he pushed on Gary’s ass to get him into the tree. The zombies had now pulled back even further, giving the bulkers more room to gain momentum. Trip was hanging down like a bat, his head nearly even with BT’s, his legs wrapped around the branch.
“Hello, good sir. Going up?”
“Get out of the way!”
“Second floor, women’s apparel, candles, small household electronics,” Trip announced as BT launched himself into the air.
He grunted heavily as he pulled himself up and past. “Thanks for moving,” he said sarcastically.
“No problem, man,” Trip said as he moved to sit upright.
The truck groaned as the bulkers slammed into it, the tires coming up nearly eight inches before crashing back to earth. They hadn’t succeeded in turning it over, but it was safe to say that they would have dislodged at least a couple of the previous inhabitants from the top with their efforts. The zombies now looked from the truck to the tree, unsure of how their food had moved.
The group could only watch as the bulkers repeatedly hit the truck, caving in the side and finally getting it partially tipped. The truck came to rest against another tree, the passenger’s side wheels off the ground and the truck balanced at a forty-five degree angle. The only perch that would have been afforded to them then would not have been wide enough by half to hold them all. BT shuddered; he wasn’t the only one to do so.
“Well, at least we got rid of the truck,” Gary said. His attempt at lightheartedness was not met with overwhelming results. The day was warm, although thankfully not hot as the sun made its journey across the sky. The tree was safety, but it was safety without comfort. The only one who was not constantly adjusting in order to find a more easy sitting position was Trip. He looked as if he might be performing meditation he was so still. Henry had been good thus far, but at some point he was going to want out of his restrictive harness.
“We have to keep moving,” BT said. The massive horde had finally passed them by leaving only their dinner guests, which numbered in the hundreds.
“You’re serious?” Tracy asked. “What are we going to do? Pretend we’re Tarzan? No , Really!?” she asked as she looked to the trees next to them. Some were within reach while others tantalizingly close.
“We can’t wait them out, Mom. They’ll never leave,” Travis told her.
She knew he was right, there was no question he was right, but she hadn’t liked climbing trees when she was young, and doing it now to save her and the lives of those around her wasn’t making it much better…if at all.
“This is insane,” Stephanie chimed in.
BT had wanted to tell her the only thing that was insane around here was her husband. He used an extraordinary amount of restraint to refrain from issuing those words, though.
Again Trip took the lead, appearing as if he wasn’t even cognizant of the conversation that had been going on around him. He leaped as if he were the Sugar Plum Fairy in a classic remake of The Nutcracker , his legs already a shimmering white as if he’d been wearing tights. As he was in mid-air, his left shoe spiraled off and hit a zombie square in the nose. If the zombie minded, he said nothing in protest.
It was a long second that Trip floated
“Gary, you have to go. If you don’t go, I don’t, and if something happens to Henry, Mike is going to flip the fuck out.”
“Yeah, he’d probably be more pissed about that than anything else.”
“That’s a fair assessment. Come on, I’ll help you out. Fear of heights?” BT asked tenderly.
“Not at all…fear of climbing.”
BT shook his head. “Is that even such a thing?” he asked as he pushed on Gary’s ass to get him into the tree. The zombies had now pulled back even further, giving the bulkers more room to gain momentum. Trip was hanging down like a bat, his head nearly even with BT’s, his legs wrapped around the branch.
“Hello, good sir. Going up?”
“Get out of the way!”
“Second floor, women’s apparel, candles, small household electronics,” Trip announced as BT launched himself into the air.
He grunted heavily as he pulled himself up and past. “Thanks for moving,” he said sarcastically.
“No problem, man,” Trip said as he moved to sit upright.
The truck groaned as the bulkers slammed into it, the tires coming up nearly eight inches before crashing back to earth. They hadn’t succeeded in turning it over, but it was safe to say that they would have dislodged at least a couple of the previous inhabitants from the top with their efforts. The zombies now looked from the truck to the tree, unsure of how their food had moved.
The group could only watch as the bulkers repeatedly hit the truck, caving in the side and finally getting it partially tipped. The truck came to rest against another tree, the passenger’s side wheels off the ground and the truck balanced at a forty-five degree angle. The only perch that would have been afforded to them then would not have been wide enough by half to hold them all. BT shuddered; he wasn’t the only one to do so.
“Well, at least we got rid of the truck,” Gary said. His attempt at lightheartedness was not met with overwhelming results. The day was warm, although thankfully not hot as the sun made its journey across the sky. The tree was safety, but it was safety without comfort. The only one who was not constantly adjusting in order to find a more easy sitting position was Trip. He looked as if he might be performing meditation he was so still. Henry had been good thus far, but at some point he was going to want out of his restrictive harness.
“We have to keep moving,” BT said. The massive horde had finally passed them by leaving only their dinner guests, which numbered in the hundreds.
“You’re serious?” Tracy asked. “What are we going to do? Pretend we’re Tarzan? No , Really!?” she asked as she looked to the trees next to them. Some were within reach while others tantalizingly close.
“We can’t wait them out, Mom. They’ll never leave,” Travis told her.
She knew he was right, there was no question he was right, but she hadn’t liked climbing trees when she was young, and doing it now to save her and the lives of those around her wasn’t making it much better…if at all.
“This is insane,” Stephanie chimed in.
BT had wanted to tell her the only thing that was insane around here was her husband. He used an extraordinary amount of restraint to refrain from issuing those words, though.
Again Trip took the lead, appearing as if he wasn’t even cognizant of the conversation that had been going on around him. He leaped as if he were the Sugar Plum Fairy in a classic remake of The Nutcracker , his legs already a shimmering white as if he’d been wearing tights. As he was in mid-air, his left shoe spiraled off and hit a zombie square in the nose. If the zombie minded, he said nothing in protest.
It was a long second that Trip floated
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