They Left Us For Dead

The Passing: Port

"You guys came back!" The man with a dress suit had said, as if we weren't going to hold up our end of the deal. Who knew getting a bridge lowered would be so hard?

"I'm Louis," the tan skinned man with the suit introduced himself, along with his friends.

"This is Zoey," the woman who Ellis had talked to before, "and this is Francis." The biker man had such a ill-fitting name. He looked more like a Tony, if you ask me.

We take some time to get ourselves introduced, and they listen. They seemed to be pretty close, as if they had done some wild shit that bonded them together. It kind of reminded me of our little group of misfits. The gambler who can't be nice, the football coach who only likes food, the journalist who just needed a little money, the cowboy who always liked guns, and then there's me. Five completely different people with five completely different lives. If this had never happened, we would have never known each other.

"If we go down this elevator, we should be able to get the stray gas cans around the area!" Coach informs us all, and we follow behind. I was nervous. Things could go wrong, and they probably were. I was thinking about my family, and Jace. I hadn't erased him from memory, though I tried to forget about the incident, I couldn't.

"Lets go," I say, "3...2...1!" I yell, and we split off into groups of two, figuring if we cover more ground whilst covering each other things would move along a bit swifter.

The first can was fairly easy to get. Ellis filled the tank, but it turned on with a loud humming sound. There were infected coming at us from every angle imaginable.

"Oh shit...not again!" Coach yelled, putting the second and third gas cans in the generator.

"Maybe we like another four or five?" Nick asks, checking the fuel tank meter on the generator. Why did these things take so much damn gas?

Coach got the fourth, I got the fifth, Ellis got the sixth, Rochelle got the seventh and Nico got the eighth.

"Last one!" Nick was pouring the gas can into the generator, as a huge tank was coming our way. He had muscles the size of two Toyota cars, with a very small head. He was roaring and groaning like we had done something to piss him off, and he picked up solid concrete from the street and began to throw it at us.

"Let's get the hell outta here, what'd ya say?" Coach laughs, and Zoey begins to lower the bridge. We get back in the car, and Ellis swoons for a moment, before remember the big ass tank making its way for us.

"Good luck!"

We were going to need it.