too small. "I can't see anything beyond the stuff piled in front of the windows."
Roger raised his voice, his agitation driving him to speak above a whisper. "Yeah, well there's dozens of those things between them and us. The way I see it, we're free, they're fucked."
Eli wrung the steering wheel with both hands. His jaw was clenched. I turned my head to look at him directly. "Eli? You okay, pal?"
He started the car. Roger sat back with a smug look, "Good thinking. Let’s get the fuck out of here."
He put the car in drive and slammed on the gas. The tires squealed and the car lurched forward, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us. The engine roared. Roger put both hands on the dashboard to brace himself. I dropped the rifle and grabbed the backs of both seats as best I could. I could see a number of the monsters turning their heads as we screamed towards them.
Eli slammed on the brakes as the first of them crashed against the front of the car, turning the wheel hard to the right. The car swung around, throwing me against the door. I could hear bones breaking against the side as we tore an arc through the zombies. The back end struck the building with a loud crunch, softened by the sheer mass of dead flesh between the car and the concrete. Eli stepped on the gas again, the car only drifting forward, the tires spinning on the puddles of gore that were forming, finding it hard to gain traction on the now-wet blacktop. Plumes of red and black sprayed against the concrete walls, painting a grisly pattern against the gray. Then the wheels caught, making us jump forward, headlong into another clutch of zombies, sending them to the ground.
Roger was stunned into silence, his eyes wide, hanging on to the dashboard with both hands. I struggled to get myself upright, the car sliding and jerking keeping me off balance. Eli drove to the edge of the lot and then turned around. There were at least two dozen of the things crawling on the ground, many with legs and bodies broken, trying to drag themselves by their fingers. Others struggled to stand, losing their footing in the slick puddle of blood. The rest shambled towards us in a mob, arms outstretched, hissing and moaning. Eli stared out at them, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, revving the engine in short pulses.
"What the hell?" I managed to sputter before Eli slammed down on the gas once again, letting go of the brake. The car leapt to life, plowing through the mob of lurching corpses, sending another dozen sprawling, scattering the rest. One rolled over the hood and hit the windshield, creating a spider web of cracks on the right side. He sped to the opposite side of the lot then slammed on the brakes, jerking the wheel to send us into another spin. Eli was determined, focused, even calm, as he repositioned the car for another pass.
In that moment I had two thoughts. First was the shock that this was Eli. He was bloodthirsty, almost savage as he wielded his car like a weapon, but the rage seethed behind his expressionless exterior. This was a side of Eli I had never seen before. He was the type of guy that needed three drinks to talk to a girl at a bar, and didn't cross the street until the light turned green.
The other thought was the surprise at how effective this method of killing walking corpses was turning out.
Each pass of the car knocked the gathered mass to the side, crushing some under the tires, breaking arms and legs as we rushed past. Each time there were fewer gathered, others struggling to stand or crawl, which made them easier to hit the next time. He gunned the engine again, racing once again to the other side of the lot, through the thinning gathering of dead. I could see that we weren't killing many of them, but enough were getting mangled to the point that they posed little threat. The key, though, was that the door to the small concrete building was forgotten. They shambled towards us mindlessly, like fish
Roger raised his voice, his agitation driving him to speak above a whisper. "Yeah, well there's dozens of those things between them and us. The way I see it, we're free, they're fucked."
Eli wrung the steering wheel with both hands. His jaw was clenched. I turned my head to look at him directly. "Eli? You okay, pal?"
He started the car. Roger sat back with a smug look, "Good thinking. Let’s get the fuck out of here."
He put the car in drive and slammed on the gas. The tires squealed and the car lurched forward, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us. The engine roared. Roger put both hands on the dashboard to brace himself. I dropped the rifle and grabbed the backs of both seats as best I could. I could see a number of the monsters turning their heads as we screamed towards them.
Eli slammed on the brakes as the first of them crashed against the front of the car, turning the wheel hard to the right. The car swung around, throwing me against the door. I could hear bones breaking against the side as we tore an arc through the zombies. The back end struck the building with a loud crunch, softened by the sheer mass of dead flesh between the car and the concrete. Eli stepped on the gas again, the car only drifting forward, the tires spinning on the puddles of gore that were forming, finding it hard to gain traction on the now-wet blacktop. Plumes of red and black sprayed against the concrete walls, painting a grisly pattern against the gray. Then the wheels caught, making us jump forward, headlong into another clutch of zombies, sending them to the ground.
Roger was stunned into silence, his eyes wide, hanging on to the dashboard with both hands. I struggled to get myself upright, the car sliding and jerking keeping me off balance. Eli drove to the edge of the lot and then turned around. There were at least two dozen of the things crawling on the ground, many with legs and bodies broken, trying to drag themselves by their fingers. Others struggled to stand, losing their footing in the slick puddle of blood. The rest shambled towards us in a mob, arms outstretched, hissing and moaning. Eli stared out at them, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, revving the engine in short pulses.
"What the hell?" I managed to sputter before Eli slammed down on the gas once again, letting go of the brake. The car leapt to life, plowing through the mob of lurching corpses, sending another dozen sprawling, scattering the rest. One rolled over the hood and hit the windshield, creating a spider web of cracks on the right side. He sped to the opposite side of the lot then slammed on the brakes, jerking the wheel to send us into another spin. Eli was determined, focused, even calm, as he repositioned the car for another pass.
In that moment I had two thoughts. First was the shock that this was Eli. He was bloodthirsty, almost savage as he wielded his car like a weapon, but the rage seethed behind his expressionless exterior. This was a side of Eli I had never seen before. He was the type of guy that needed three drinks to talk to a girl at a bar, and didn't cross the street until the light turned green.
The other thought was the surprise at how effective this method of killing walking corpses was turning out.
Each pass of the car knocked the gathered mass to the side, crushing some under the tires, breaking arms and legs as we rushed past. Each time there were fewer gathered, others struggling to stand or crawl, which made them easier to hit the next time. He gunned the engine again, racing once again to the other side of the lot, through the thinning gathering of dead. I could see that we weren't killing many of them, but enough were getting mangled to the point that they posed little threat. The key, though, was that the door to the small concrete building was forgotten. They shambled towards us mindlessly, like fish
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