I could see my truck from a mile away. I know it well. So when we passed the street, and I caught it out of the corner of my eye, I slammed on the brakes. It wasn't far either. I knew they were there. They had to be. Christy looks down the street and sees it too. "How are we gonna do this?" she asks me. I try formulating a plan in my head, but I can't seem to think of anything.
I look behind us, and there's an alley leading to the back of the store. I back the truck up, and see a group of zombies in the alleyway. "I have a plan. It's a little crazy, but I have an idea. We're gonna draw them out." Christy looks at me and rolls her eyes sarcastically. "Your plans never work John. Never." I just stifle a sigh and get out of the truck. Walking towards the alley, I notice there's a big glass window at the back of the store, probably leading to the warehouse or storage portion of it. It's a long alley though.
I stoop down, pick up a rock, and chuck it at the window. I hit the wall. Shit. A couple of zombies turn my way. In my panic, I pick up another rock quickly and throw it at the window again. Missed. I throw another one. Got it! The window shattered, and some of the zombies heard it. As they head for the window, I hop back in the truck.
We turn down the street, but some of the zombies are following us. Trying to lead them away, I make a U-turn on the road. Instead, they head towards the store, probably from all the noise. Christy looks out of the window, worrying. I get turned back around and I see Mark opening the door to the store. Lizzy runs out first. Mark throws the keys to Lizzy. "Shit, shit, they're leaving," I yell as I slam my foot on the gas.
I feel the bodies squishing under my tires, but I don't care as I see Mark starting my truck up. They take off down the road, the zombies flying off the sides of the vehicle. I'm speeding up behind them. We've made it about two streets down when I catch up to them. Mark's taken notice of me, and speeds up. In a quick panic of thinking, I swerve to my left and hit the back corner of the truck. The vehicle starts spinning, and then it crashes into a business.
I stop the truck and hop out. Sprinting towards the truck in a fit of anger, I open the door and pull Mark out of his seat. "No, no!" he yells. I throw his body onto the ground and sit on top of him. My fists keep pounding into his face; the bloodier he gets, the less my hands seem to hurt. Suddenly, I feel someone grab my shoulders. The next thing I realize, I'm sitting on the ground about 20 feet away from Mark. Steven's heading my way. That beast threw me.
"Stop!" a voice yells. For a moment, Steven halters. Lizzy is standing in the back of the truck, screaming. She has my rifle pointed directly at him. "Get away from him!" she yells, but Steven continues walking towards me. I hear a gunshot, and blood spatters all over me.
Steven's laying on the ground beside me now, with a bullet hole in his head. He groans, but can't get up. I turn my head back to Lizzy, and she's holding the rifle with a scared, pale look. "I... I..." she begins, and Christy runs over. She takes the rifle out of Lizzy's hands, and then she points it at Mark. "Get up." Christy commands him. Mark slowly stands up, blood running down his face and shirt. Man, I really fucked him up good.
"John, what are we gonna do?" she asks me, and the question takes a minute to sink into my brain. I turn to Mark. "Leave him," I say through my teeth. "He can deal with this himself." Christy frowns. "That's not what I was asking, John. He's coming with us. I'm saying, where do we go?" Pissed off, I kick the street sign laying on the ground beside me.
I run into the store closest to me. It's a camping store, with backpacks and tents. I grab an extra backpack, and a bundle of ropes in the corner of the store. When I run back out, I throw the rope at Lizzy's feet. "Get him in the truck, and then tie him up." I tell her.
I run over to my truck to take a look at it. It's completely destroyed, just like I figured. I shouldn't have crashed it but I didn't know what else to do.
Looks like my good luck has been starting to run out lately. Screw myself and my impulsive thinking.