Another head bobs just above the roof of a sedan. I settle the crosshair just ahead of where the creature will appear in greater clarity near the windshield. The distance they’ve closed isn’t critical at this point, but it will get to that point. The goal is to have as few of them as possible to contend with when that time arrives. The figure appears, and I send my greeting out to it. Another splash of the viscous substance that resides within them tells me that my aim was true, and it falls forward out of sight.
The screams of the others escalate as if annoyed. I recognize that scream of frustration, and I am not all that fond of it. These creatures, like the night runners, are relentless. Focusing on yet another sprinting madly in my direction, I lead it ever so slightly. A puff of smoke exits my barrel on the heels of the speeding projectile. The figure turns at the exact wrong moment causing my round to streak by its head. The bullet whines off into the distance, leaving behind a starred windshield. I adjust my aim and fire, seeing the creature lurch to the side and fall across the hood of a car. It slowly slides down toward the front, picking up momentum as it slips farther until it limply falls to the ground. Switching to a runner directly ahead, I place two rounds in its head before it hits its knees and falls forward.
That’s five, I think, rising to begin beating cheeks to a new location.
The remaining runners sense their closeness and seem to navigate between the cars with even more speed — as if that were possible. This spurs a little more effort on my part. I notice the latent smoke in the air is winding me a more quickly than normal. I’ll have to figure this whole thing out soon or I’ll end up completely out of breath and my options diminished. I turn in an attempt to lessen their numbers and see a few of them scrambling over the hoods and trunks of vehicles in order to close in. This doesn’t give me warm, fuzzy feelings. If I was going to be transported to another place and have zombies, why couldn’t they just be the slow, shambling ones I used to read about.
Leaning over yet another trunk, I line up my shot with the easiest runner. Intervening vehicles are blocking any clear shots to the nearest ones so I’ll have to take the shots that I’m afforded. I just don’t have the time to pick and choose at this point. I have to adjust my position as one of the grenades hanging on my vest gets hung up on the trunk lock.
Grenades! Damn! This little transition must have really fucked with me. Here I am being chased in a large, wide-spread gas tank farm and I’m trying to plink the bastards, I think, triggering another round into one of the runners’ heads. Now if these vehicles actually have any fuel remaining, I can create a fire break between me and those trying to make me their dinner.
I shift my aim to the gas tank of a car in the median and pull the trigger, making sure to pick one a little distance away. I don’t want to be close in case the one-in-a-thousand shot actually ignites the tank. The round hits with a metallic ‘chunk’ and I’m rewarded by a trickle of clear liquid flowing out. I angle across the jam as best as I can — sliding over hoods when no clear avenue is found — putting rounds into the tanks of as many cars as I can, all the while keeping up a semblance of speed. Back and forth I transit across the congested vehicles with the runners keeping pace and following; ever closing the distance.
In one way, my strategy has worked as the horde following these Jesse Owens clones have disappeared from view. I make a few more runs across the pile of cars, placing rounds into the gas tanks. The sound is similar to a muted cough as I fire through the suppressor, followed by the hard ‘thunk’ of the bullet hitting metal. Most of the time, I see a flow or trickle of fluid. Some are either empty or my rounds don’t penetrate the steel casings. With each round, I have to crouch in order to get a clear shot at the tank which slows my progress, allowing the screaming figures to draw closer.
I would like to make a few more runs, opening up more tanks, but I’m just going to have to be satisfied with what I have. The runners have drawn too close. If I take any more time, they’ll be through the area currently being soaked with what I hope is gas, thereby making my efforts pointless. Plus, there is the very uncomfortable aspect that this won’t work at all, and I’ll have to contend with fifteen very upset zombies. That’s not my idea of a good time. I start out at a run, maneuvering through the tangle as best as I can, unhooking one of the grenades.
Coming to a stop, I unpin and toss a grenade into the jammed cars far to the right. Quickly readying another, I toss it in the path of the loose gaggle of runners. They’re coming at me like I’ve stolen their last Twinkie — for Twinkie lovers, you’ll understand. For others, insert your favorite snack. I then take off in case my grand master plan is an epic failure. I think of Lynn and what she’d say regarding my magnificent planning ability. The thought of her brings a sharp pang of missing her, and worry. I have no idea where I am, let alone where she might be. The thought arises that I could be stuck in this effing place without ever seeing her or my kids again. That almost stops me in my tracks. If there isn’t a chance of seeing them again, what’s the bloody use of running or continuing on? Of course, if I just give up, the odds of seeing them drops to the same percentage of winning the lottery without buying a ticket.
A thunderous explosion from behind brings my thoughts back to the present. Another monstrous roar follows the first, causing a rolling boom to echo through the trees and across the stationary vehicles. Sliding over the trunk of a car, I glance over my shoulder. The grit stuck to the vehicle’s surface changes the slide to more of a series of shuffles, but I clear it. Behind me, a sheet of flame and smoke is shooting skyward from where each grenade landed. The back end of one of the cars, engulfed in fiery blaze, is settling back to the ground. Flaming globs and metal licked with flame are flying through the air. They settle and other fires begin amongst the cars where gas has flooded the ground. Another car is lifted as its tank catches in a burning explosion. In short order, a large part of the route behind is blocked by flames.
One figure emerges from the small inferno, consumed in fire but continuing toward me. Yeah, they are relentless alright. I stop, turn, and bring my M-4 up, firing into the now fully engulfed runner, aiming in the general direction of its head. It slows and then drops to its knees on the paved highway before falling face forward. Flames continue to rise from the body, making it sizzle. I watch to the sides, waiting for any others that manage to circumvent the rapidly spreading conflagration.
Another detonation lifts a vehicle into the air, throwing hot metal and fiery gas outward. I feel a blast of warm air as it rushes past. The fire is now a living, feeding thing and it’s time I put some distance between it and me. With the prolific amount of fuel around, who knows how far this will spread. I begin to think I may have overdone it a bit and there’s a chance it could catch up with me if I don’t start getting the fuck out of here. With that in mind, and the fact that I don’t see any runners emerging, I turn and begin putting some distance between my ‘carefully laid plan’ and me.
I hear the roar of the flames behind as the fire gathers strength and intensity. I keep checking for both the fire gaining on me and any runners that happen to have made it through. If they have the ability to think and reason, they will be able to go through the woods and circumvent the blockade of fire. Not seeing any of the creatures, my main worry is that the fire will catch on the grass along the sides and race forward. The wind is behind me and there is a definite chance of that happening if my ‘well-laid plan’ runs amok. I also hope that the trees don’t catch and I end up burning down the whole…well…wherever I am. Another glance behind shows that the flames, while tall and looking rather warm, are staying relatively contained in the area where it started. The atmosphere isn’t all that dry, but it isn’t exactly moist either.