There was a brief struggle, but the night runners seemed very uninterested in receiving damage. It was once again me and my old pals. I put the window up more as a defense against the smell; although nothing short of industrial strength fans and a Costco-sized can of Lysol was going to help. They weren’t getting in, and I wasn’t going out—not while it was dark. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but I was fairly certain that the name ‘night’ in night runner held some significance. I pulled off the night vision goggles and lay down on the large vinyl bench. I figured the odds that I was going to end up on the floor were pretty high. By the time the sun came up, I found myself still on the bench though I had yet to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
“What the fuck did I drink last night?”
I had partially opened one eye. Sunlight was streaming in and my right arm was hanging down almost touching the floor. My face was smooshed and, what I imagine was drool, was puddled on the floor below me.
“Well that’s gross,” I said as I trailed my sleeve across my face.
My head felt like an anvil, and I was debating moving at all when I noticed that my drool had pooled into a little recessed area on the floor. In that little recessed area was a pull ring. I didn’t think much of it at all other than I had drooled a lot. Then, my curiosity got piqued. Although, in all probability, it was an access panel for maintenance or tools for changing a tire. Even if it was a secret stash, it was probably something like pickled artichoke hearts or something equally as gross.
“Am I really going to stick my fingers in congealed goo to see a tire iron?” Apparently, yes, as I pulled up on the ring. “Holy…”
I had at least six or seven strung-together swears that would have been absolutely meaningless. I was looking at it, and I still wasn’t sure what I was seeing.
“Movie prop?” I asked as I moved down the bench so I could get off without falling in the opening. “Where did the dude that buys cheap-ass throwing stars by the case get a friggin’ rocket-propelled grenade?”
I cautiously undid the latches holding it in place and gingerly pulled it out. Like most people, I’d seen dozens, if not hundreds, in the movies, but I’d never fired or even held one. I scraped against all the memories I could.
“Yup…never fired one.”
I was pretty convinced on this point. It was lighter than I expected, like maybe it was the prop I’d suspected earlier. Then I got my answer; it was a one-shot wonder. I read the directions that were printed on the side of the tube. It looked like they were written so a three-year-old, or Trip, could figure it out.
“Trip?”
I got that same funny feeling along my tongue, like I had when I said zombie.
“Trip, Trip, Trip.”
And like the third time was the charm it all rushed back at me. The escape from Trip’s home after he had unknowingly dosed me with acid. We had been in his van. I was close to hitting a fuel truck and then…what? We had found ourselves here, wherever ‘here’ was.
“Burning city, night runners, water tower, Jack.”
Everything, I remembered everything. My family, my Tracy, my Henry.
Where were they, though? Any of them?
My family was back in the fairly normal world I had left. Jack and Trip…were they still alive?
I hadn’t seen them since Trip took out the tower with a slingshot. With or without them, my mission remained the same; survive until such time as I could be reunited with the ones I loved. Forward, ever forward, I needed to move. There was not much sense in going back to the tower. First off, I couldn’t really use it as a landmark to guide me back considering it was on the ground, and I had no idea the route I’d taken to get here last night. Secondly, if Trip and Jack survived, they definitely didn’t stay around that place. The plan all along had been to get away from there. No, if they were alive, their plan would have to be them coming back to the roadway. It was the only thing that made sense.
Although, where on the road they would come out was a mystery. We could be within a mile of each other on the road and never know it. I couldn’t let that weigh me down. If I waited here for them to show up, there was still a fifty percent chance they’d be ahead of me. I was never one for inaction. Right or wrong, I would be the master of my fate. Normally, that was Tracy’s gig, but she wasn’t here. I stood up, wavered for a second, and looked around. There were still five zombies around the bus; something I was going to have to take care of, and quickly. I let a window down.
“Zombies, hey, zombies,” I called out to them.
I started rapping on the side of the bus to get some of the thicker ones to pay attention. Within the span of half a minute, the five of them were snarling and snapping under my window. I felt like some twisted world’s version of the ice cream man, although instead of frozen treats, they wanted me. This had to happen fast. I once again threaded my barrel through the opening.
“Stay still, dipshits.”
Four shots later, three of them were dead or dying. Two moved out of range.
“Dammit.”
Wherever I moved, they moved away. It was like they were dogs and they thought I was trying to give them a bath. I would have just shot from where I was, but the screening was pretty thick.
Could it stop a bullet?
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to keep making noise. More zombies would come, that was a given. I grabbed the RPG, I’ll be damned if I knew what I was going to do with it, but no effen way was I leaving something like that behind. Dumbass probably blew his entire wad on this. Who am I kidding? I probably would have done the same thing if given the opportunity. I moved the nun-chucks from their bracing position and did a quick glance to see if Lucy and Desi had moved to intercept. The female was a red-head, so it seemed appropriate to name her that even if ‘Desi’ was far from Hispanic. He looked like a skin-head, truth be told. The door opened with a loud squeal. I placed the RPG strap over my back, and got ready.
And they’re off, came to mind as I first looked both ways and then stepped down.
I started at a jog, weaving through cars making Lucy’s approach as difficult as possible. When I turned to look, it appeared that Desi was the runner in the family. He wasn’t more than two cars away.
“I always liked you, although I never saw in you what Lucy did.”
The first round hit him in his tattooed arm. I think I’d done some serious damage to his inked-in koi fish. The second caught him in the shoulder, and his arm hung uselessly to the side. He dropped down suddenly. It wasn’t from the damage I’d inflicted, he just didn’t want anymore.
“I hate smart zombies.”
I was about to turn tail and run when I saw Lucy standing still. She was looking at me. I don’t know if hatred even remotely conveys what she was directing toward me. She dropped down as well when I brought my rifle to bear.
“Shit.”
This time I went a little faster. I was not a fan of this new iteration of Lucy, remakes always suck. I’d gone for nearly a quarter of a mile when I turned to look over my left shoulder. Nothing. I was hoping they had gone in search of something easier to eat. It was when I turned over my right shoulder I saw them easily keeping pace with me. Unlike me, they had gone to the shoulder of the road where there weren’t any cars. While I was banging my thighs and bruising my shins as I ran into things, they were out for a Sunday stroll in the clear. I couldn’t even get my gun around fast enough before they ducked down.