My brain barely has time to start thinking up all the horrible scenario's, when the truck slams into something on the road. Its jarring at this speed, and I roll forward, but manage to use my arms to block my face. Pain radiates through my elbow, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Today has been hell on my body. Through the broken driver's side window, I hear the guy let out a shout, then a string of cuss words. The car is at a stand-still and I strain my ears trying to figure out what we just hit.
I'm tossed backwards again when the guy takes off with a weave, and this time my face smashes into the corner of a box full of cans and my teeth sink into the soft flesh of my lower lip. I can taste blood- and I'm sure it's the same place the man hit me earlier today. I have gotten myself into a very serious situation and I need to figure out how to get out of it.
I'm pretty sure whatever we hit was a zombie... because other than maybe a deer, what else would be wandering around on the road right now? The guy slows down a bit but doesn't stop- another indication that it wasn't something warm and fuzzy.
The truck keeps going and there's nothing I can do, but sit in abject terror, waiting to see what's going to happen next.
I lay in the back of the truck for probably another ten minutes before the truck finally starts to slow down. It takes a sharp right, but this time I'm ready for it and I brace myself to keep from rolling into anything else. The truck rolls to a stop and I hear him cut the engine and I lift my head, straining to hear anything that might tell me where we are. My gut tells me we haven't reached Louisville yet, it wasn't enough time, and there was no check stop, no people or voices.
I hear the door open and then the clattering of... what I assume must be the ping of aluminum beer cans hitting the pavement, and I wince. This guy really is an idiot. I hold my breath, hoping that he hasn't attracted every zombie in the area with his drunken shenanigans. I have no idea how he's managed to survive this long- but it does gives me a tiny bit of hope that he, and by extension me, might just survive the night.
A huge part of me wants to jump out of the back of this truck and either try and take control, so I have a truck, or just plain make a run for it. Both ideas have their pros and cons. I still have my gun strapped to my hip, and I could use it... but I really don't want to have to add another person to my murder list. Neither do I want to die, of drunk driving, of all things during a zombie outbreak.
"Come on. Come and get some!" I hear his voice suddenly booming through the silence. I should really expect this kind of stupidity from him by now, but it still makes me jump. My stomach clenches in disbelief, this dumbass is actually trying to ring the dinner bell. I hear the roar of his gun firing off and I'm not sure if he's aiming at anything, or just shooting it at shadows.
"Please, please, please get back in the truck." I urge him in a whisper, panic starting to claw at me. I take a deep breath trying to ward off the oncoming attack- this isn't going to end well. It's not even a full minute before I hear the moans and snarls signaling the zombies have found us. Their noise runs a chill down my already frozen spine. The worse part though is the snapping and clicking of so many sets of teeth. The dead have come, drawn by the noise. His gun continues to fire, though he pauses to punctuate each shot with a word. "This." Bang, "Is." Bang, "For." Bang, "Lyyyyleee." Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
I hear his gun fire dry and I wince knowing it won't be long now, unless he is ridiculously lucky and makes it back inside the truck. When he starts to scream a second later, I know his luck has run out. His screams tear through me, just as surely as the zombies are tearing through him. Tears stream down my cheeks, not because I feel bad for this idiot, he brought this on himself, but because I am selfishly terrified. The zombies sound like they are right beside the truck, and it only takes a minute for his screams to end in a gurgle. I try and guess how many of them are out there, based on the growls and moans, but as the zombies fight over the remains like a pack of dogs, it's impossible to tell. All the sounds blend together, and seem to echo, to create a gruesome chorus that is impossible to tell apart.
