Numerical Apocalypse

eight

The sun set a few minutes later.

Suddenly the car stopped, cutting into my peaceful reverie to the tune of Lindsey Stirling.

I yanked my earbuds out of my ears. One day that move would probably damage my ears, but whatever.

"What?? What's-"

A low moan cut through my words. I groaned.

My phone lit up with a text from Lena.

I had one bar of service.

What's going on???? she texted.

IDEK

The walkie-talkie sitting on our dashboard crackled to life.

"We've come across a band of mutants," Came Mr. Sanchez's staticky voice.

My mom grabbed the walkie-talkie. "What do we do?"

"Jim has a rifle, we're gonna try and flush them out," came the reply.

I groaned. "He couldn't shoot an apple if it was right up against the barrel of the gun."

My dad glanced back at me. "What?"

"He's a terrible shot." I hunched lower in my seat, playing with my hair.

My parents conversed in voices too low for me to hear.

Finally my mom turned around, her brows creased nervously. "There's a hunting rifle in the trunk. Do you think-"

I shot out of my seat and grasped for the stock of the gun in the dark. "Is it loaded?"

"Yup." My dad met my eyes in the mirror. "Okay, kiddo, listen, you're gonna have to crack your window to get the gun out, and the creatures may be able to-"

"What if I climb through the sunroof?" I blurted.

My mom nodded slowly, her face looking pale in the dark.

My dad spun the wheel of the car, swerving us around Lena's family's van. "Ready, Alexandra?"

I propped my elbows on the roof of the car, balancing with my chest against the corner of the sunroof opening. "Yep."

The moans got louder, and I saw our headlights reflect off of translucent skin.

"I can't see..." I mumbled, squinting through the spotting scope.

My dad flicked on the high beams.

In that split second, a humanoid zombie creature turned it's face straight towards me. I pulled the trigger.

The creature collapsed in the middle of the road.

"Brilliant," My dad grumbled, trying to drive around the fallen body.

I heard something crunch. "Ewh," I whined, aiming the gun again.

Headlights reflected off something shiny black in the dark, and I saw Mr. Jim in a flash of light as his gun recoiled. "Get away, you-"

I pulled the trigger of the rifle again, feeling the gun recoil against my shoulder.

Mr. Jim whooped. "You see that? I hit one!"

I watched the zombie fall from my own bullet. "Sure," I called back.

My dad swerved the car, making me almost lose my balance.

"Okay, we have a clear shot. Let's go!" My mom spoke into the walkie-talkie.

The caravan of cars took off into the mountain night once more.