Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Rich Restucci

driver’s seat. She had never been so scared. There were eight undead within a hundred feet. Rick gave Chris the Taurus, and told Chris to wait outside and kill anything that got close. “If she tries to leave,” he thumbed at Anna, “stop her.”
    The door to his father’s house was still intact, but the front picture window was broken in. Rick heard the Taurus bark as he ran toward the door, but he didn’t have time to look around. He yelled “DAD!” and ran up the font three steps, kicking at the door. The second kick splintered the frame, and the door opened to reveal an undead shambling toward Rick. He dispatched it, and went through the doorway. He could see six creatures crowding the broken door to the basement. “DAD,” he yelled, “DAD!” Two of the things turned to him and he fired twice, killing both. He kept firing on single shot, until no undead were left. He could hear the Taurus firing outside.
    Rick ran across the room and entered the doorway, suddenly coming face to face with a dead paramedic. Rick quickly lashed out with the butt of his rifle, catching the thing under the chin. The creature’s head snapped back and it fell backwards down the stairs. Its fall was impeded by a few dead that were already crumpled on the steps. The creature tried to rise, but a large pipe wrench came crashing down on its forehead. Rick’s father was standing there winded, holding a twenty inch monkey wrench which was dripping with gore.  
    “Dad! Dad, let’s go!”  
    “Careful Rick, the backyard is full of them!” Rick’s dad yelled. Rick changed magazines, dropping the almost expended mag in his vest pocket, and slapping the new one home. He came two thirds of the way down the stairs, and held his hand out to his father. The older man grabbed his son’s hand and climbed over the four creatures he had dispatched with his wrench. They made it quickly up the stairs, and Paul paused at the top looking back down the flight. “C’mon Dad, we gotta go!” Rick barked. 
    “Rick, they’re coming!” Anna said, her voice barely audible. 
    Rick’s dad was saying something while pointing to the side yard, but Rick was focused on getting back to the car. Rick and his father flew out the front door, Rick taking quick stock of his surroundings. There were five bodies on the ground, evidently destroyed by Chris. More were coming. As Chris was reloading, Anna fired from her seat at one creature that got too close. She hit it in the throat and promptly leaned out the window and threw up. Rick brought his AR-15 to his shoulder and fired twice in rapid succession, killing the thing Anna had failed to bring down, and another undead. He ran to the driver’s side and told Anna to move over. “I’ll drive,” said Rick, “my wheels.” Chris helped Rick’s dad into the back seat, and got in himself.  
    “Grandpa!” yelled Sam.  
    “Oh Little One, it’s so good to see you, I thought I might not get the chance again.” Rick’s father hugged her tight. 
    “What are you talking about old man?” asked Rick. “I told you I would be over this morning with Sam.” 
    Rick accelerated down the street. 
    “Shut it, Sonny-boy,” his father said, “and Don Ho called, he wants his shirt back. Who are your friends?” 
    Chris and Anna introduced themselves. “You can call me Paul,” he said to them, “Now somebody gimme something to shoot with.” 
    Chris rummaged through a duffle and came out with a 9mm Sig Sauer P229.
    “Thanks,” said Paul, “‘course I told him to get the .357 model, and not this little sissy-pistol.” 
    “I could always bring you back home and give you a rolled newspaper to defend yourself with,” Rick said smiling. 
    “Prolly do more damage than this thing. Looks like a damn toy. I miss my Colt,” moaned Paul. 
    Rick continued smiling as he drove north. 
     

 
     
    7
     
    “Dallas? Dallas, do you read? Still nothing.” Rick weaved in and out of abandoned and wrecked