Chapter 3 – Goddamn Nightmares

EXT. FOREST ROAD – NIGHT

"You know what I hate about this truck?"

"What?"

"How slow it is. I mean, if I stood on the top, a smoker could easily just grab me off of it."

"We haven't had that yet."

"I know! We've just being seeing the little guys, and one freakin' Tank."

"And a boomer."

"Yeah. But where are all the hunters, and all the smokers, and all the-"

"Witches?"

"What? Why witches?"

"There's one right there, in the middle of the road."

"Shit!" Simon vaulted over to the roof and shouted obscenities down the manhole, but a resounding thunk could be heard clearly. Followed by a scream. "Shit!" Simon repeated. He grabbed an assault rifle and peered around, looking for the witch. I raised a sniper scope to my eye. The witch's head popped out from under the truck. I aimed the crosshairs, fired, and hit a zombie instead.

I looked up. Somehow the horde had managed to ambush us. I threw down my sniper rifle, picked up an assault rifle, and started firing, not even bothering with the turret in front of me.

Our assault rifles weren't ordinary. The bullets could punch through steel, a clip held 100 bullets, and the gun had a maximum of eight clips. Zombies dropped like flies.

Too bad I forgot about the witch.

She climbed onto the truck and ripped apart my gun with her bare hands. I backed up, realized I was on the edge, and stopped. When faced with a problem like this, there was yet another trick up my sleeve, almost literally. Because each military uniform was outfitted with a long retractable knife under its forearm.

The witch leapt on me. Before her ten claws could rip me to shreds, however, a ten-inch blade was through her skull.

The horde wasn't finished yet. Realizing this, I quickly grabbed another rifle and blasted away the zombies that were clinging to our truck. The man-hole popped open, and Greg peered out. He shot a few zombies that were behind Simon. He reloaded the pistol, then figured out the horde had dissipated.

"Shit, I missed the fun."

"Fun?" I exclaimed, "I almost had my guts used as a carpet."

Greg climbed over and looked at me. He spotted the dead witch. "Oh, geez. We ran her over, didn't we? That's what the bump was?"

"Yeah. It was really mad, but it had no idea who was responsible. I'd be dead if it hadn't had hesitated."

"Well, it's a good thing she did, then."

I tossed the body over the side and watched as it and all the infected we had killed disappeared into the fog. I sat back. Greg jumped over to me and took the other turret.

The truck broke down.

"Fuck!" Jeff poked his head out of the man-hole. "Fuck! Do any of you know what just happened?"

"No idea," Simon replied. "Maybe the engine blew?"

"It's not supposed to blow! It's supposed to withstand getting bombarded by shells! What the hell happened to it?"

I sighed. "Let's go check."

We all got off the truck and circled it, looking for damages. There were none, not even scuffmarks where the zombies had climbed up. The witch had scratched the paint, though, but we didn't pay attention to that. Greg opened the hood and started cranking something. I went over to see what he was doing.

He closed the lid and sealed it shut. "There's nothing wrong with the engine."

"Well, what do we do?"

"It's getting late, we can set up camp here and think about it in the morning."

"You sure that's the best plan?"

"We're all pretty tired."

"I'm not fucking tired!" Simon called out.

"Well, you've got first watch then."

Dr. Sleighter emerged from our Tank with a tent bag. In a few minutes, we had a large tent and five sleeping bags. Jeff rolled his eyes. "You're gonna sleep outside on the ground? I'm sleeping in ol' Tanker here. It's a lot safer."

Sleighter replied in his fractured Russian accent, "Not much space in there."

"That's just because of all your goddamn equipment."

"Touch anything and die."

"I could break your spine with a toothpick if I wanted to."

Jeff stalked off and climbed up and into the truck.

"Hey, Simon, you in the Tank or the tent?" asked Greg.

"Tent, probably. More comfortable."

"You've got first watch."

"Shit. Yeah, you told me already." Simon assembled a folding chair and placed himself in front of the tent doorway.

The sun had been set for at least an hour. Greg, Sleighter, and I climbed into our sleeping bags.

There was an awkward silence.

"You asleep?" I asked.

Greg turned over. "What the hell- this ain't a goddamn slumber party."

"Yeah, I know."

"Of course I'm not asleep."

"What's your story?"

"Huh?"

"Everyone's got a story. I've known you for two weeks. What's your story?"

I couldn't see him, but I could hear him turn over again. There was a long silence. I was about to give up and go to sleep, but then he talked.

"The first kiss I ever had was in first year high school. I was at a masked dance, and the prettiest girl I knew was standing around with her friends, laughing and having fun. Knowing she couldn't see who I was, I went up to her and kissed her. She was shocked, but eventually gave in. After a few moments, however, she suddenly stopped, pulled back, and lifted up my mask."

"…and?"

"…and she turned away in disgust."

"That's too bad."

"Shut up. Anyway, over the next three years, I worked hard not only in school, as I was used to, but also in losing weight, working out, and getting a job. I never really succeeded at the last one. Really, the most profound moment was when I was leaving the school after exams. I see her, sitting alone, no longer the popular girl she once was years ago. She had nearly failed a grade, and subsequently had worked as hard as she could over the last year, but it was obvious she wasn't prepared for the exam. Seeing the girl that had rejected me like that should have filled me with satisfaction, but it didn't. I went up to her, sat beside her, and kissed her again before she could look at me."

"…and she left in disgust again?"

"I said shut up. This time, she opened her eyes, recognized me, and for a moment I thought there would be a repeat. But she just closed her eyes again and leaned closer. I later married her."

"That's a nice story."

"She died, a few days after the first infection. Despite my reassurances, she knew she wasn't going to make it. She asked me to pick her up, kiss her again. I did, and she died in my arms, and became a zombie, and I killed her."

I said nothing.

Neither did Greg.

We both turned over and fell asleep.