“Stay
off the roads! Find a weapon and get back in your house,” I quickly get to the
drivers side and let Devon in first. The people stand silent and in shock. They
stare at us like we are aliens.
“Move
it!” I bark at them. They snap out of it and run back into their houses. I
climb back into the Bronco, slam the door shut and get it back into gear.
Colleen shakes in her seat. I grab her wrist and pull it towards me. I slide
her sleeve back to expose her forearm. There are no black veins.
“What
are you doing?” asks Sara.
“She
was bitten,” I let go of Colleen’s arm.
“You
let her live?”
“I’m
not a doctor. I don’t know how this works. I saw a two-minute video on the
news. That’s it. She seems fine,” I let out the clutch and take off with a
lurch. All four tires screech. The lot is empty by the time we get to the
street.
“Where
are we going?” asks Sara.
“Vancouver.
That’s where my family is.”
“Vancouver?
You wanna cross the bridge? With all this shit going on? That’s insane,” she has
snapped out of her haze.
“I
have to get to my family. They’re in Vancouver. So I’m gonna get across that
bridge,” I shift into the next gear.
“Maybe
you should drop me off,” she is restless back there. I pull to the next street.
There is a pack of bloodthirsty infected heading for us.
“You
want out now?” I ask her. She looks at the angry horde of death.
“No.
I’ll stay,” she says contrite.
There
are a few people packing their cars to bug out on this little street. I roll
down my window.
“There’s
a shit ton of them heading this way! You better get moving!” I yell out to the
families and then roll my window back up.
“Will
that happen to me?” Colleen asks in a low voice. I glance over at her and I
shrug my shoulders. Tears pour down her cheeks.
“I
don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! I don’...”
“Knock
it off! If you act crazy I’ll drop your ass off right here!” my voice breaks
and I punch the dash. It doesn’t help anyone if I freak out now. I have got to
calm down. “I’m sorry. We have to keep it together for a little...” I look over
at Colleen. She is zoned in on her forearm. Her veins have gone black.
Colleen
squeezes her infected arm at the elbow.
“NO,
NO, NO!”
“Do
something!” she pleads.
“She’s
turning!” Devon panics.
“Pull
over!” yells Sara. Colleen coughs up a mouthful of blood. Damn this infection!
She spews blood onto her jacket and all over the dash. I slam on the brakes and
pull over. She convulses. I get out of the Bronco and I pop the seat forward to
let out Devon and Sara. I sprint around to the passenger’s side and open the
door.
“Colleen?!”
I call her. She doesn’t respond. I slide my arms under her knees and the back
of her neck and I pull her out. I lay her on the grass and take a few steps
back. I watch as her eyes go blood red and the skin around her mouth pulls
tight. Her whole body shakes violently and blood drains out of her nose and
ears. Her eyes turn black.
“We
should go,” Sara says.
“Should,
we finish her?” asks Devon. Nothing about this feels right. I don’t know this
woman but she seemed like a good person.
“Damn
it!” I pull the knife I have on my hip and kneel next to her body. I place my
hand on her forehead like you would to test a sick child’s temperature. I take
the blade and stick it into her jaw and up into her brain. Her body stops
shaking and it is over. What am I doing? This is a fucking nightmare. This is a
lesson. If you are bitten you have to go. There is no stopping this infection.
I should have listened to Devon. No way in hell I will make that mistake again.
“Should
we say something?” wonders Devon. I pull the blade from her body and stand back
up.
“Go
ahead,” I mutter. I put the knife back on my hip.
“I
don’t know, man.”
Two
guys sprint across the street for the Bronco. Like a dummy I left the keys in
the ignition. Both guys are good sized and in their thirties. One of them has
bleach blonde hair. I move fast to get back to the driver’s side. The blonde
one is already halfway into the Bronco when I get to him.
“Get
out!” I reach for his belt.
“Fuck
you!” he yells over his shoulder at me. I grab his belt and pull him out. As he
falls out he throws a punch at me. It almost connects, but I slide my head to
the side. It only grazes me. I take a step back so I have a second to think.
Devon joins me. I hope he is ready for this. Most fights are over in a minute
and all of them end up on the ground. If I end up on my back these two will
stomp me to death. The two guys charge. The blonde one throws a few haymakers.
I block and duck. The other guy comes at Devon. They punch wildly at each
other. Blondie switches from haymakers to uppercuts. He keeps advancing and I
take a few steps back. I am pressed against the Bronco and I have nowhere left
to go. He lands a hard right on my chin and it rings my bell. I hate being hit.
I get hit in class sometimes. It is always on accident, but it hurts so badly.
The human face is not designed to take a beating. It is soft and breaks easily.
Devon is on the ground getting punched in the head. He is finding out exactly
what I am talking about. The poor guy is in big trouble. Damn it. If I can’t
take Blondie out fast, Devon is going to get killed. Sara moves quickly and
stabs the back of Devon’s attacker. The guy cries out in pain. She got him
right in the shoulder blade. The knife stays stuck in his back. His arms fight
to reach back and pull it out.
Blondie
throws a straight jab at me. I do a move that I practiced in class over and
over again. As his left hand comes straight for my face I push his punch
slightly to slide past my face and at the exact same time I throw a straight
punch. I aim for his neck. It delivers the most damage to an opponent with the
least amount of risk to my hand. It connects. Blondie can’t breathe. He grabs
his throat. I make sure there is no more fight in him with a hard rising kick
to the groin. He falls to his knees. That is the second time I kicked a man’s
dick today. I guess it is my signature move.
The
other guy gets up off Devon. He charges at me, hits me full force and I am
slammed up against the Bronco. My head hits the back quarter window. It dazes
me. He throws punches at my face. He lands one in my ear and a hook that gets
my nose. The cartilage breaks on impact. Pain radiates. Oh baby, does the pain
radiate. My sunglasses crack and fall to the ground. Blood drains down into my
throat and I start coughing. I try to keep my hands up as he throws punches at
me, but I am hurting.
Suddenly
he stops attacking me and he screams out in pain again. When he turns around
the knife is in a different spot. Sara pulled it out and stabbed him again.
This is my chance. I muster everything I have left in me and kick hard into the
back of his leg. This sends him to his knees. I quickly reach out and throw my
arms around his head. I choke him out by pinching off his carotid artery with
my forearm. If you get a good deep choke, you can make someone blackout in a
few seconds. I feel his body go limp. My nose kills with every heavy breath I
take.
What
the hell were these assholes thinking? Trying to steal someone’s ride. Then he breaks
my nose. I am no Brad Pitt, but I liked my nose and now I am going to look like
an old boxer. He fully passes out. I let his body go and it falls forward and
lands face down on his blonde friend. I look up at Sara. My eyelids flutter and
I can’t focus. She pulls the knife out of his body and puts it back into its
sheath.
“Thank
you,” my eyes will not focus and my voice sounds funny with my busted nose full
of blood.
“I
owed you one,” she steps over to help Devon up. I hope that this doesn’t become
the new form of currency. Violent acts exchanged for more violent acts; you
saved me from being raped. Okay. I owe you two stabs in someone’s back.
“Help
me with him,” we grab Devon by the arms and pull him to his feet. He is going
to have a black eye and his lip is busted.
“Fuck,
that hurt dude. Sorry,” he says.
“That’s
okay,” I rinse the blood out of my mouth and then take a big drink of water.
“Lets
get the hell out of here,” Sara helps him back around to the passenger’s side
of the car. I get back into the Bronco and lock the door behind me. I look in
the rearview mirror and check out my nose. There is a bulge on the bridge. I have
seen in movies where tough guys reset the nose easy-peasy. The last thing I
want to do is touch it. Devon lies down on the bench. Sara sits up front next
to me. She grimaces when she sees my nose.
“It
looks broken.”
“It’s
very broken.”
“You
want me to set it?”
“No,”
I say instantly.
“Are
you going to?”
“No,”
I say as fast as before.
“It
will take two seconds and then we can get going.”
“Have
you ever done it before?”
“No,
I’ve seen it in the movies.”
“You
don’t know what you’re doing,” she moves closer to my face with her hands out.
“It
can’t be that hard. Don’t be a pussy.”
Who
is this girl? She has her hands close to my nose.
“Please
don’t!” I plead with her.
“Hey!
Hold still! You don’t want me to fuck this up, do you?” I wince when she
touches my nose.
“Please
stop! It’s fine! I’ll be OKAAAAY!” Crunch! This crazy chick reset my nose. Damn
it hurts! I look in the mirror and the bulge is gone. My nose is swollen and
hurts like hell. Who is this girl? She resets broken noses and will stab a man
to save a stranger. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“I
told you it was easy. Can we go now?”
“Yeah,”
I look back at Devon. He stares at Sara. It is puppy love. My first impression
of this girl is that she chews up and spits out boys like Devon. I hit the gas.
I snake my way down some back roads. They seem to be a little quieter. No more
stops, I promise myself. I can’t take anymore car crashes or punches to the
face.
The
next intersection we pull up to has an old folks home on the corner.
“Oh
no.”
“What?”
asks Devon.
“It’s
an old folks home.”
“So?”
“Look,”
he sits up to see. The street if full of old infected bodies. They see us and
shuffle our way. If I go through them I will wreck this Bronco. Someone must
have passed early this morning and the rest of the poor old people could not do
anything to stop them. Oh crap, I remember there is an old folks home not even
three blocks from where I live. I am not an ageist, but when people get old and
can’t take care of themselves it can get gross. Add torn flesh, missing limbs,
open night gowns, popped colostomy bags and it gets absolutely disgusting. It
would be nice if I could go five minutes without all of my senses being
completely bombarded with horrifying, nightmarish gore.
Behind
us a diesel engine is moving fast. It is a snow plow. Where the hell did this guy
get a snow plow? He tears across the intersection. The big plow is covered in
human remains. It absolutely decimates these old bodies. It hits six at a time
and doesn’t slow down. I look over at Sara and she gives me a half smile. It is
so over the top, even though it is incredibly wrong and disturbing, you want to
laugh. Only so you don’t go completely insane. The plow takes out all of the
infected on the street. I hit the gas and follow him. The Bronco slides around
on the concrete as I get up to speed. The ground is slick with body fluids. The
plow weaves all over the street purposely hitting the infected.
“This
guy’s like, bat shit insane!” exclaims Devon.
The
plow hits a parked car and tears off every metal panel and the door like it was
newspaper. We zip down two blocks before I know it. I wish I could follow this
guy all the way home. I would be there in ten minutes.
The
road comes to an end and the plow slams on its brakes and makes a hard right.
It takes down a fire hydrant on the corner. Water explodes into the air and
splashes down on us. It covers my windshield with so much water we go blind for
a few seconds until I find the controls for the wipers. The next road we pull
onto is littered with cars. The people drive like maniacs trying to get home,
or leave home, who knows. I thought this guy would slow down now that he is on
a main road, but he is going even faster. He weaves in and out of traffic still
pulverizing the random infected that try to cross the street.
“He’s
going to kill someone,” I shift into the last gear. I stay with the plow. It is
the best lead blocker ever, but I am pushing seventy. The speed limit is only
thirty five. My butthole eats the seat every time I pass a car or enter an
intersection. There is a major intersection up ahead and it is full of cars. He
tears the back and front bumper off them. It makes for a nice opening that we
dart through.
The
next intersection opens up to a four lane with a median and it has more cars to
navigate through. I don’t understand why he is driving this way. If he took it
slow he would still get where he is going. Why drive like a maniac? The stress
of getting into another car crash is not worth following this madman. We have
gone thirteen blocks and it only took us a minute to get here. So that is cool,
but Goddamn, slow down you weirdo. He blows apart a few infected bodies. Some
of the guts and blood spray up and over the top of the plow and land on our
ride. I fire the wipers back up to clear the window.
The
plow races through the next intersection and is t-boned by a fast moving fire
truck. The unstoppable force has met its match. The fire truck pushes it into
another car and the plow tips over on its side. I jam on the brakes. The whole
intersection is full of busted vehicles and now I don’t have a lead blocker. I
search for a clear path that will keep me going in the right direction, but
there is none.
Seconds
after the plow comes to a full stop on its side the passenger door pops open
and a woman climbs out. I push away the urge to make a joke about women drivers.
The joke pops in and out of my head quickly but I keep it to myself. The woman
gets stable and surveys the area. She has something big strapped to her back.
She watches as packs of freshly turned infected roam the streets killing
everyone they meet. She pulls the object from her back. It is an assault rifle.
The woman opens fire. She spays bullets in every direction. Unfortunately the
Bronco is not bulletproof. Rounds rip through the cabin and engine compartment.
She misses our bodies, thank God, but our windshield is gone and I know she has
really screwed up our engine. I have played paintball, emphasis on the word
played, and I have also been shot with a BB gun. My brother and I thought it
would be fun to shoot at each other. We were kids and it was a very stupid
idea. Luckily no one was hurt and we were caught by my father immediately.
I
have never been shot at by a real gun. It is absolutely terrifying and today it
has happened twice. The fear I feel is a very difficult thing to describe. It
is an almost unimaginable thing that a little chunk of lead can put a stop to
this whole trip. It happens so fast that I don’t have much time to dwell on it.
She is not trying to shoot us. We are just down range from her real targets. Even
with all her wild shots she does manage to cut down a good-sized group of
infected. It opens up a little space for us to make our escape. I crank the
steering wheel and make a hard left. With the pedal to the metal we leave the
crazy woman to her almost certain demise.