Chapter 10

Jay Box

2:15 PM

The three of us headed over to the car. I pondered our unusual luck as we moved. What the hell was a police car doing here anyways? I didn't see any cops around. Come to think of it, there were no signs of life at all out here. I began to wonder if we were the only humans left in San Andreas. I quickly shook my head though. No way, I realized. That's impossible. We are not the last three humans here. There must be other people, right? But the thing that's getting at me, is why haven't we seen them? Why has no one come to save us? Well, there were those three army men, but they don't count.

Mercer rapped on the driver's door when we got up to the car. Then he peered inside, checking the interior for anything important. He must not have seen anyone in there, though, because he unshouldered his AK and smashed the window in. He reached inside, opened the door, and motioned for us to get in. Good thing we hesitated, though.

A single zombie crashed down from the roof of a building above us. It landed square on the hood of the car, caving it in and sending the back end of the car into the air. The siren began to wail uncontrollably, sending shivers down our spines. What if the zombies heard it? We didn't have the energy to fight them again.

I shook my head. No way would I let this guy destroy our only transportation out of this hellhole. Acting quickly, I gripped the barrel of my M4 in both hands. I swung it with full force, and the stock collided with the zombie's head. He barely had time to blink before the left side of his head was caved in, spreading brains everywhere. The heavy impact sent him sailing, knocking him from the car's hood and into a nearby parking meter.

Jill and I started for the car door. I hadn't even touched the handle yet when Mercer said, "No."

"Why not?" I asked. "The only damaged part is the hood."

Without warning, Mercer raised his AK-47 and shot into the side of the car. The once-shiny doors were riddled with bullets as Jill and I stared in shock and disbelief.

"Aaaahhh! What the fuck?" I cried.

Mercer shook his head.

"I don't want to take any chances. We don't know how much the zombie damaged that car. We could have been killed if we attempted to drive it. Since I just shot it full of holes, that ensures that none of us can drive it." He glanced at me warningly. "So don't try."

"What if it was just a dent? What if he didn't hit anything important?" Jill sputtered.

"What if he didn't? What if we got into that car and the engine fell out?" Mercer asked.

"So? We'd get out and walk!" Jill shot back.

"Ok. What if we got in, the engine was loose, I started the car, and the engine dislodged, flew through the windshield, and smashed you in the face?"

"What if Jay was in the passenger's seat instead of me?"

Mercer thought for a minute.

"Good point."

2:40 PM

We'd been walking through San Fierro for a few miles now. Jill was walking silently at the front of the group, while Mercer and I were a few feet back. I took this time to ask Mercer something that had been bugging me for a while now.

"Did you hear Jill earlier?" I ventured.

"When she yelled at you?"

"Yeah."

"So what, man? Don't take it seriously. Truthfully, I think she felt really bad for blowing you up with the grenade, but she didn't know how to express it."

"So she decided to bitch at me about not wanting to walk?"

Mercer shrugged.

"Hey, don't look at me. I'm just as confused as every other guy is, about how the female mind works."

"Nah. You know what I think?" I asked, lowering my voice. "She's a feminist."

"A what?" he blurted.

Right on time, Jill glanced back at us suspiciously, and I turned away innocently.

"A feminist, man! Or at least a lesbian."

Mercer squinted at me. He gave me a look, which seemed to say that he couldn't believe how stupid I was.

"Are you kidding me? A feminist?"

"Uh, sure, why not?" I said. "It is kinda obvious, right?"

"No, you dumbass! I was talking to her earlier. She's just a little bit hostile towards guys right now."

"And why is that?"

"A group of Grove Street gang members gunned down her sister recently. Male gang members, might I add."

Oh. Now that makes more sense. My bad.

"And get this." he added. "One of the gunmen was Carl Johnson. That rich guy who owns like, half of San Andreas and has ties to the Asian triads and the Mafia. Carl Johnson, of all people! Can you believe it?"

"Carl Johnson?" I asked, in total disbelief.

The expression on his face changed.

"Oh, uh, maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"Yeah. Maybe."

We both shut up after that. I became lost in my thoughts. I couldn't believe it. Carl Johnson? My good buddy CJ? He was the one who introduced me to everything when I first moved here. Gave me a house and everything! I mean, I knew he was a gang member and everything, but I didn't know he was capable of commiting such cold-blooded murders. Or maybe I did know. Maybe his kindliness, maybe his instant hospitality clouded my sight. I understood it now. It was all just a ploy to get cops on his side. I mentally cursed myself for having not seen it earlier.

The dull silence was soon split by a low buzzing sound. You could barely hear it, but believe me, you'd notice when silence was broken. We paid no attention to it, but it soon began to grow louder and even a little bit annoying. Soon the sound began to change, from a low buzz to the high-pitched whirr of a helicopter's blades. The three of us froze. Was there really a helicopter flying nearby? We didn't dare take any chances. From a pack on his back (that I hadn't even noticed), Mercer produced a flare gun he had stolen from Ammu-Nation. He leveled it and fired a single flare into the air. Its purpose was obvious. We waited. Waited until the flare crossed the path of the helicopter. Waited until it hovered in place for a few seconds, and then pivoted towards us. Waited until it came closer, closer, descending all the while.

"Yes!" Jill cheered, tears streaming down her face. It was the first thing she'd said in like, twenty minutes. I couldn't help feeling the same way. We were finally going to be free of this god-forsaken place. I swore to myself, that after this, I'd get a new place in Florida. Vice City, even. I admit that I haven't been keeping up with anything that happened there in the last ten or so years, but I know one thing. Nothing bad ever happens in Vice City.