-All Standard and Previously stated repetitive disclaimers apply. AKA. Don't be naughty!
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A/N: Thanks for all the support guys! Your reviews keep me wanting to write! You guys rock! Holy poo poo! 36 chapters! I really can hardly believe it!
I swore silently. When had they fallen behind? Stamping down on the gas we exited the field and bounced across the lawn again. As we swerved onto the street again, an insisting sounding horn sounded as someone pounded on it, sounding it again and again. And as we turned that last slippery corner we came upon them. As they had went to follow us, it looked as though they had been hemmed in and had stopped. Dave was still attempting to move back, but was sliding and sliding on a patch of black ice.
"Fuck me..." Trent breathed. If I had, had time to dwell on the issue, I would have realized that Trent rarely swore. At least never often in my presence. So, of course, I knew even before I looked closely at the scene, that it would have to be near disastrous proportions. So, of course, staying true to our lousy luck, it was so.
Their truck was trapped on the ice patch right in the midst of a generous grouping of undead. With all the windows still unrolled we could hear their moans... but even more horrifying were the screams and yells of our friends. The undead were pressing against every surface, the truck actually began to rock with their determination.
Suddenly, the rear window slid open and Rachel's long black hair blew out with the wind as she climbed out, the sleek black hair trailing and whipping about her face with the violence of the wind. As she paused, one foot wavering on the floor of the back, the other firmly planted in the trucks cab, Dave's hands could be seen, visibly shoving her out, then passing her the handgun as he did. "Get on the roof! On the roof!" We heard him scream. Seconds later Rachel made a leap for the top, clambering up awkwardly, trying to stay away from the sides.
I sent the car towards them. "Shoot them! Thin them out!" I yelled, then as I heard the clicking cock of the guns at my side, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that my next move wouldn't back fire to badly and get us all killed. Wit that finally thought, I punched my fist down, firmly honking the horn.
Well it partly worked. The zombies paused, looking towards us. Others raced forward, eager for a newer source of prey. I could only hope that Trent and Thor would take care of them as I continued forward. But the large majority stayed. Eyes swiveling back to their trapped meal.
Above all the noise I could barely hear Rachel as she banged on the roof top, screaming frantically for Dave as the drivers side window shattered and meaty fingers whipped inside, probing, searching, like a poisonous snake might, as it tests the air above it for a sign of it's next meal.
I brought the car to a stop, and leaned out the window, counting quickly I figured about thirteen or fourteen of the zombie's were still grouped around the truck, and the odd one was still wandering nearby, coming at us, or beating on a house window. Could we do this?
I remember wondering worriedly, I knew nothing of tactic's or stratagems...who put me in charge anyway? Cursing, I grabbed the CB and yelled into it, thanking the gods for the small mercies of life, Thor had installed one in Dave's car while I had been ill. "Dave! Get your ass up to the roof! Whatever you are doing, do it later dammit!" I finished, not even waiting for a response before swinging out of the car, whirling about on the spot to make sure my back was clear. "Thor! Cover our back!" I yelled, having to repeat myself again so he could hear me over the din. Once he understood, he nodded and moved back.
Trent moved forward, yelling his twins name, and was about to run forward. I flung out my arm, gripping his forearm. "No!" I yelled. "Wait! It's too dangerous, just keep shooting." I cried. "What!?" He yelled, anger rippling his features. "He is going to die! They are both going to die! We need to--." But I cut him off. "No." I repeated. And for ten seconds nothing happened, and we starred at right other, my eyes broaching no argument, his eyes burning with anger and bitterness.
Moments later, I turned, ripping my gaze from his, and my heart soared as Dave's torso appeared through the back window, struggling to wiggle out, but squeeze out he did, and just in time to, as a waving hand shot out the window after him, it's snatching fist mere millimeters from closing on his shoe.
Scrambling, and half-helped up by Rachel, he finally joined her on the rooftop, and as she clung to him, she pointed at us and they turned, waving their arms frantically. I waved back and Trent and I inched forward, boot step, by boot step coming closer towards them.
I felt incredibly exposed ...and well definitely feeling at risk. Oh fuck it, I was scared. Suddenly the idea of staying in the car seemed so much more appealing. I shook my head. Coward! I berated myself. Did they baulk and run? No. Then why should you even be thinking of it! Fuck! You are the leader of sorts! You are a pathetic piece of worthless – But my internal damnation of my soul and character, was cut short by an ear-splitting blast. I whirled, to my side, just in time to see a blood slick body fall, a mere few meters away. I hadn't even heard it coming. Turning about, mouth agape, I caught Thor's wave, and wordlessly I waved back, then turned back. I stared ahead intently, it was time to get into the game.
Shaking myself, I swallowed hard. But how does one lead when every second I breathed through I felt like fainting. Like I would literally choke on my fear, I could feel it. It sat in tight knots in the pit of my stomach, and as I faced the rushing terror, trying to aim true while pushing forward, the knot softened, and like a black gooey tar, it became vine-like, growing and clinging. Threatening to overwhelmed me completely under a thick, all consuming coating of black.
Baulking, I straightened. Glaring at the corpse at my feet. Suddenly I felt a feeling, something that I had never truly felt... a thick wave of hate. And it overtook me, it overtook the fear, drowning it in a boiling red wave. It was all them! They RUINED it all!
I thank god for this feeling of hate towards their kind. The fear has never completely vanished, but when I bring up this hate, this powerful emotion cam quell my fear, bringing it's conquering roar,down to a mute mewling cry. That emotion has pulled me together at the worst of times. But, for the first time in my life, real, unadulterated hate formed in my soul. It was like losing ones virginity, exhilarating...yet painful. And, you can never go back to the way it was before, that purity is broken, lost forever.
At my side, Trent was being rushed by three of the demons, they must have figured that we were easier pickings. I turned with him, taking out a sheirking woman in a nightdress, while Trent was able to take out a man, who would have been impeccably dressed, in a black suit and a sky blue tie, if it weren't for the hideous chunk torn from his cheek. Streamers of blood had dribbled down his face streaking his white dress shirt. I caught his eye and saw a ghost of a smile appear before swinging away again to shoot at the group still plaguing our friends at the truck.
Thor was suddenly at my back. "We re getting low on ammo, we need to get some desperately." He half whispered. "Fuck." I muttered, swinging top take down yet another running figure from behind us. "How low?" I asked, stumbling in the deep snow, noting that only six or so undead remained at the truck. "I am tempted to say , that you don't want to know, but at the risk of sounding totally un-fucking-original...Other then what they have in their guns and pockets, we have about twelve rounds of handgun ammo, and about twenty extra shotgun shells." "Damn.." I muttered, mind racing.
"We should wrap this up them." Trent replied, moving forward as Dave shot another beast down that was attempting to climb the tailgate of the truck.
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream echoed in the empty street. When Dave had turned to shoot the climbing zombie Rachel had been knocked off balanced and had slid off the slid. Only a death grip on Dave;s CB antenna had stopped her fall. As it was her legs scissored frantically in the empty air, only inches above the heads of less then half a dozen hungry demons.
We didn't even pause, we move together as one, on to the truck in half-run. It was like monkey-see monkey-do, and two more began to climb the tailgate. Dave was torn, one hand reaching to Rachel, who still held fast to the antenna, his other hand trying to steady his shot at the oncoming hell-spawn.
I stopped and flopped to the ground, leaning against a fallen tree, trying to aim well enough for a true shot. I quickly saw my mark, a big one. It was wearing such a hideous short that I hardly felt guilty for taking him down. The timing was prime, just as he reached up for Rachel's flailing foot, I brought him to the ground. After the shot I adjusted my aim as Trent moved into my line of vision, trying to take down the most dangerous of the beasts first.
Another terrified scream punctuated the air. Rachel was slipping. A single zombie had a hold of her booted foot, fingers scratching in vain on the blessedly thick rubber. "Pull her up! Pull her up!" I screamed, stumbling, and almost falling as I ran forward. The zombie yanked at her leg again as still others leaned in to get their share. It was like some sort of strange tug-o-war contest, with Rachel as the rope. Rachel had turned her neck around to look at the demons that pawed at her leg, kicking at them frantically in an effort to get them to loosen their hold, but to no avail. It must have been horrifying, but she was forced to do nothing but watch as those jaws descended, closing around her foot. She only screamed, and screamed.
It was then that Dave made a command decision, I don't think it was overly smart, but it did save her life. He tossed the gun, it flew through the air, thumping to the ground and skidding to a stop at Trent's feet. Then flung himself down, gripping Rachel by the armpits, forcing her to abandon her hold on the antennae. Her fingers still scrabbled desperately at air, pained screams still tearing from her throat.
Thor raised his gun, and with apparent concentration, he aimed and brought down the zombie that had anchored itself to her foot, bringing it down in a fountain of gushing blood. Surprised by the sudden lack of resistance, they lost their balance and tumbled over the other side, Dave's mouth agape in a surprised "o" as he slipped over the other side, disappearing from view.