and pulled out something
from his pocket. It was lighter. He flicked it on and the small flame gave them
enough light to see why Jeremy stopped to grab the keys. His father’s jeep.
Another one of his father’s many toys. A brand new,
four-door, jet black Jeep Wrangler. And just like its owner, it was fully
loaded with a bunch of crap. They both got in and buckled up. Safety first.
“What size shoe do you wear?” Jeremy asked.
“What? Why?”
Jeremy reached into the back seat and pulled out his
father’s gym duffle bag. He pulled out a pair of practically new running shoes.
His dad probably used them twice.
“These are an eleven. Will that work for you?”
Ben nodded and took the shoes, quickly putting them on.
“Ready?” Jeremy asked.
“As ready as I can be,” Ben replied.
Jeremy hit the garage door opener. As soon as the door
cleared, Jeremy threw it in reverse and backed out into the drive. A few
shamblers were on the driveway, but no runners. Jeremy began to drive towards
the street. He swerved around the first zombie, but nicked the second. It let
out a moan as the jeep bumped it. It was answered with shrieks. The runners
noticed the jeep. There were two of them and they broke out into full sprint
towards the jeep.
“Go! Go! Go!” Ben screamed.
Jeremy floored it and hit the third zombie head on. Speed
bump. He took off down the street, the runners trailing behind. Something else
grabbed their attention and they took off down another street. Ben let out a
deep breath.
“Sweet Jesus,” he said.
Chapter Eight
The two men rode in silence as they passed through the
neighborhoods leading into town. The appearance of this new type of zombie had
really shaken them. As if the slow, dumb shamblers weren’t dangerous enough,
now you have these dead, free running freaks to deal with. Both men knew the odds
were now greatly stacked against them.
Before, they could just have been avoided, or at least
out smarted, Jeremy thought. But now these crazy mofos? This is not
good…
The future did seem bleaker. They had no weapons to defend
themselves against these runners, with the exception of Jeremy’s screwdriver.
And he did not want to get close enough to use that thing.
“We’re going to need to find some kind of weapons,” Jeremy
said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” Ben replied. “I had a baseball bat, but I lost it
when I was running from those deranged rednecks.”
“I had a machete. Got stuck in a zombie’s head.”
“Zombies?” Ben asked. “You mean like in the movies?”
“Yeah, that’s what these things are right?” Jeremy asked in
reply. “I mean, they sure do act like them. I haven’t seen many zombie movies,
never really was into that kinda stuff, but dead coming back to life and eating
the living? That seems like zombies to me.”
Ben shook his head.
“But those are the movies man. Fiction. This can’t be real,”
he said.
Jeremy did not know what to think. He hadn’t really had a
chance to stop and think about it. If these things were not zombies, then what
were they? Sick people? If they were just sick people, then when Jeremy killed
them… He couldn’t think about that.
“Whatever they are, we are going to need something to defend
ourselves. Especially if there’s more of those crazy, jumper ones,” Jeremy
said.
“Yeah. What were those?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s different types of zombies. Or
maybe they’re evolving or something.”
“Alright, so where do we go?” Ben said, nodding. “I can tell
you that any local gun shop will be crawling with rednecks. And if it’s not,
then it’s empty. Just trust me on that one.”
“Is that where you ran into those guys?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah. Apparently, there are too many black people with guns
and they thought they’d even it out. You know how many niggers were
there? One. Me.”
Jeremy could only shake his head. One of the great things
about the South. Where the racism
from his pocket. It was lighter. He flicked it on and the small flame gave them
enough light to see why Jeremy stopped to grab the keys. His father’s jeep.
Another one of his father’s many toys. A brand new,
four-door, jet black Jeep Wrangler. And just like its owner, it was fully
loaded with a bunch of crap. They both got in and buckled up. Safety first.
“What size shoe do you wear?” Jeremy asked.
“What? Why?”
Jeremy reached into the back seat and pulled out his
father’s gym duffle bag. He pulled out a pair of practically new running shoes.
His dad probably used them twice.
“These are an eleven. Will that work for you?”
Ben nodded and took the shoes, quickly putting them on.
“Ready?” Jeremy asked.
“As ready as I can be,” Ben replied.
Jeremy hit the garage door opener. As soon as the door
cleared, Jeremy threw it in reverse and backed out into the drive. A few
shamblers were on the driveway, but no runners. Jeremy began to drive towards
the street. He swerved around the first zombie, but nicked the second. It let
out a moan as the jeep bumped it. It was answered with shrieks. The runners
noticed the jeep. There were two of them and they broke out into full sprint
towards the jeep.
“Go! Go! Go!” Ben screamed.
Jeremy floored it and hit the third zombie head on. Speed
bump. He took off down the street, the runners trailing behind. Something else
grabbed their attention and they took off down another street. Ben let out a
deep breath.
“Sweet Jesus,” he said.
Chapter Eight
The two men rode in silence as they passed through the
neighborhoods leading into town. The appearance of this new type of zombie had
really shaken them. As if the slow, dumb shamblers weren’t dangerous enough,
now you have these dead, free running freaks to deal with. Both men knew the odds
were now greatly stacked against them.
Before, they could just have been avoided, or at least
out smarted, Jeremy thought. But now these crazy mofos? This is not
good…
The future did seem bleaker. They had no weapons to defend
themselves against these runners, with the exception of Jeremy’s screwdriver.
And he did not want to get close enough to use that thing.
“We’re going to need to find some kind of weapons,” Jeremy
said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” Ben replied. “I had a baseball bat, but I lost it
when I was running from those deranged rednecks.”
“I had a machete. Got stuck in a zombie’s head.”
“Zombies?” Ben asked. “You mean like in the movies?”
“Yeah, that’s what these things are right?” Jeremy asked in
reply. “I mean, they sure do act like them. I haven’t seen many zombie movies,
never really was into that kinda stuff, but dead coming back to life and eating
the living? That seems like zombies to me.”
Ben shook his head.
“But those are the movies man. Fiction. This can’t be real,”
he said.
Jeremy did not know what to think. He hadn’t really had a
chance to stop and think about it. If these things were not zombies, then what
were they? Sick people? If they were just sick people, then when Jeremy killed
them… He couldn’t think about that.
“Whatever they are, we are going to need something to defend
ourselves. Especially if there’s more of those crazy, jumper ones,” Jeremy
said.
“Yeah. What were those?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s different types of zombies. Or
maybe they’re evolving or something.”
“Alright, so where do we go?” Ben said, nodding. “I can tell
you that any local gun shop will be crawling with rednecks. And if it’s not,
then it’s empty. Just trust me on that one.”
“Is that where you ran into those guys?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah. Apparently, there are too many black people with guns
and they thought they’d even it out. You know how many niggers were
there? One. Me.”
Jeremy could only shake his head. One of the great things
about the South. Where the racism
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