-All Standard and Previously stated repetitive disclaimers apply. AKA. Don't be naughty!
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Leaving the house had turned out to be less of a catastrophic endeavor then I had first imagined it might be. First off, we actually made it. Secondly we pulled it off with a precision that made me glow with pride. Needless to say though, I breathed easier when we took to the winding forested roads once again, and the generous tailing of undead fell behind, breathing in our exiting exhaust.
It felt as though it was like old times, me driving the cruiser, escaping from the chasing undead. For a minute I even saw Dan's face grinning at me from the passenger seat, looking elsewhere as his skilled fingers busily reloaded the scarred shotgun on his lap. I smiled in spite of myself, no matter what my brain said, here he was...with me again. A comforting feeling washed over me, one that I hadn't felt since this whole mess began, safety. But this sweet recollection did not last, and suddenly he turned, his eyes a milky white, mouth slack and gaping, but no moan fell from his lips. Instead he reached a large hand to my shoulder and roughly shook it, rumbling deep in his throat, as though words were hard to come to his lips, he shook his head, as I leaned towards him. Then he managed to grind out, voice rising in a mangled whisper... "No kid, not now, wake up kid. WAKE UP!"
I started awake, jerking the wheel back to the center line. "You okay?" Mike...or I suppose I should say, Thor asked, eyes piercing. "Want me to drive?" Trent butt in, unclipping his seat belt and leaning forward. I shook my head, smoothing my hair back behind my eats, and rolling down the window, shivering a little as the chilled air whipped in. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, raccoon eyes stared back at me, with a bruise covered reflection, I looked away. "No, No. I am fine. I was...just thinking." I replied, still unsure about what had just occurred. Had I nodded off for a second? Or was I going nuts.
Squealing tires from behind us caused my head to snap up, eyes darting to the rear view mirror. Several undead had jumped Dave's truck from the side of the road, but had bounced off the swerving vehicle, one falling under the squealing tires. I could just make out Dave's mouth moving, and Rachel's panicked movements, until they regained control and sent us a quick thumbs up as Rachel watched the following couple chase the truck from the rear window.
"Fuck! Where did they come from?" Trent commented, looking about the forest surrounding us. "From anywhere." I commented dryly as I concentrated on taking a curve. The forest was punctuated by long winding dirt driveways, the typical country recluse stigma. But still farms dotted the landscape through the trees in the distance. "We must be coming on Blind Bay." Trent commented as a flash of frozen lake peeked out from behind the last curve before the lake front.
"Shit." Thor rumbled, twisting in his seat to watch the zombies progress. One still coming fast and the other still attempting to claw it's way up, it's legs a bloody broken mess on the snowy road. "Thats just sick man." He said, disgust practically dripping from his words. "Does nothing short of a head shot faze them?" he continued, as he reached into his voluminous, and rather shredded parka, pulling out a handgun, that looked positively miniature in his grasp.
I couldn't hold back an amazed expression. I had never even seen a gun before this had all began, now they seemed to spring from every pocket and backpack. I snorted disbelievingly at the ridiculousness of it all.
But then, as I cleared the last slippery corner, and slid out onto the winding road that hugged the lake front, I couldn't hold back a frustrated and surprised exclamation. I couldn't believe it! Were we deemed never to catch a break of luck!?!
It seemed that those who both had holiday homes, and that lived in this little piece of lakeside paradise had attempted to hold off in these cabin-like homes. Unfortunately those plans went awry somehow, maybe the undead had spread already, it was possible...but what I think happened was that they brought their wounded with them. A common mistake. But whether out of compassion or ignorance, it was committed, and it was their death knell.
But of course I had not a moment to think about all of this. As, because as soon as I turned that last corner it became a terrifying, fast-paced obstacle course, where hitting the other team, or crashing didn't mean lost dollars, but lost life.
"Fuck!" I cried as I barreled down the curving road. The undead had hardly paused as they took off running towards us. I suddenly really wished the I was in the back, rather then in the front.
"Turn around!" Thor yelled as he checked his secondary clip, shoving it in his jacket pocket. "We can't! This is the only way to the logging road!" Trent shouted back, straining to be heard above the bumps, moans, and Tia's frantic barking.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" I chanted breathlessly as I whipped the wheel about, trying to avoid the lunging undead. Then, seeing an opening in the coming rush, I yelled a quick: "Hold on!" As I turned the police car into an impromptu off-road vehicle and hightailed it onto some dudes lawn, barely hearing the crunches of someones snow covered lawn ornaments...at least I think they were ornaments. As I crunched through the lawn I saw an open field ahead. Maybe an acre or so of virtually tree-free field and roared towards it, hoping fervently that the bumps and wince-worthy grinding noises from below were not the sounds of my car, or anything else in the under body of my car that was essential to it's running, was scrapping off.
But, at least I had a plan. "Get ready to shoot!" I cried, rolling down my own window as I did, jerking the wheel back around to avoid a randomly staring corpse, then bouncing over a hidden log. Putting my last second plan into action, I began driving in long looping circles around the field, leading the chasing undead in dizzying circles, but the beautiful result was that it put a much needed distance between them, and us. Giving Thor and Trent the chance to lean out and shoot them down from a relatively "safe" distance.
Things were going smoothly, so to speak, till Trent's voice rang out in the crisp, cold winter air. "Ash! Look! Coming on your left!" Trent yelled, his words barely legible over the wind, the gunshots, and the motor. But it was enough, using my right hand I attempted to maneuver the rifle to the window. "Bugger." I muttered, it was too bulky. "Take the wheel" I yelled desperately, as I eyed the fast coming creature, the beginnings of a much deeper sense of fear and panic began coiling into thick knots in my belly.
This was not good...basically the phrase that personifies my entire life now..