I pull into Trey's driveway, then pop the trunk. I take the keys out of the ignition, before getting out and grabbing two bags.
"River... What the fuck did you see in there? How many of them were there?"
He asks, then grabs the last two bags and we walk inside.
"Hundreds.... I don't know how many exactly, but there were kids, adults.... All of them turned on me... I barely escaped with my life."
I look down and pull out my notebook, then start doing inventory.
Supply Run Result:
Weapons:
Two .308 caliber AR-15's.
M1911.
Glock .45.
.22 rifle with a 5 shot mag.
A five inch knife, with a shoe holster.
Attachments:
Two wrist grips for the AR's.
One pistol cord.
One M1911 suppressor.
Ten extra AR mags.
Seven extra M1911 clips.
Ammo:
2,000 .308 rounds.
3,000 .45 rounds.
300 .22 rounds.
200 12-Gauge shells.
Misc.
5 bottles of 20 oz Scent neutralizing spray.
Black hoodies.
Black tactical pants.
Two cans of lighter fluid.
Six cans of cleaning wipes.
"Ok.... So we didn't get as many attachments as I wanted, but I'll just switch some over to my new rifle."
I pick one of the AR-15's.
"So, there's a burst/single fire switch, a reinforced stock, and glowing iron sight."
I think to myself as I inspect the rifle, then strip my other rifle of it's suppressor, flashlight, and grip.
Then, fitting it onto my new one, and putting the wrist strap on. Before, Attaching the suppressor to the M1911, then pulling out the clip and loading it.
"So, what's the next move?"
Trey says as he starts loading the extra mags, then picks up his rifle and slams one in.
"Hold up... Where are your grandparents?"
I say as I finish loading a clip.
He looks down, then continues loading the mags.
"Honestly, I hope they're dead.... I don't want them living in this, but they were out doing errands when all this shit happened."
"Oh, I'm sorry man that sucks. I loved your grandparents."
I finish loading up my last pistol clip, then stand up and fit four into my pockets and the rest go into my bag.
"It's good, but like I said. What's your next move?"
He looks up at me and finishes loading his mags.
"Find out more about what happened, or atleast try to."
I start loading up my five mags, but I hear some sound from outside.
"But, we do need to make one more run."
"Yeah, Where to?"
He looks up and slides the clip into his pistol.
"3J's, I need gas and I can do it alone, but it's safer with two people. I still have almost a full tank, but I'm gonna fill up the gas jugs in your garage."
I walk through the house to the garage door, then walk in and pick up the three 5 gallon gas jugs and the one 10 gallon.
"Ok, so how are we gonna do this?"
He asks and grabs the 10 gallon one from me.
"You're gonna be outside by the pump, while I go inside and cut the switch on for the pump to work. Then, I'll be back outside to watch your back.... We fill all the jugs and put them in the trunk, then we come back here... Simple enough?"
I ask and walk back to the sunroom, then set the jugs down and pick up the wipes. I open one of the cans, then start cleaning myself with it....
Getting most of the blood off me, but some's still left in my hair. I grab a bottle of scent neutralizer, then spray myself down before throwing three bottles in my bag.
"So, I have my army bag and a tactical backpack, with hidden compartments. Now, we have to split the supplies, so I can be ready to go."
"You're thinking about how to split the supplies aren't?"
Trey asks and looks at me.
"Yeah.... How do you wanna do it?"
I ask and look at him.
"Leave me with 25 MRE's and some water, then I'll be good."
"Deal."
I pull out the MRE's, then give him four bottles of water.....
"So, let's see what I need."
I think to myself as I start loading items, and making a list in my notebook.
2,500 .45 rounds.
.22 rifle, with all the ammo.
All the 12-Gauge shells.
Knife with the shoe holster.
3 bottles of scent neutralizer.
3 cans of cleaning wipes.
Both cans of lighter fluid.
"Ok, the rest is yours."
I say and pick up the bags that I had from before, then my new ones and taking them outside. I put them in the backseat, then I hear what sounds like an ice cream truck. But, with a voice in the mix......
I'm taking a chance, so I close the door and run inside. Then, grab Trey from the kitchen and put him down, before peaking over the windowsill.
I see an ice cream truck slowly roll by, then hear the voice again.....
It sounded something like
"SAFE.... UTM....SHELTER."
Trey looks up and gives me the "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING" look.
I watch the ice cream truck take a right, then it disappears and the musics gone.
"What the Fuck happened river?"
He looks at me and scoots away.
"We have bigger shit to worry about, than some fucking gas...... That looks like an ice cream truck from hell."
I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
Trying to make sense of the words I heard......
YOU ARE READING
The Alpha Omega.
AcciónThis is my version of the apocalypse. I didn't write this so I can become famous or so anyone will like me more. I wrote those, because it's the story I wanted to write. If you don't like it, don't read it.
