far away from this particular war zone and most of their current problems.
Daniel drove for what seemed like hours, the landscape of ashen colored burned down buildings a horrifying reminder that the disaster was everywhere. Kaylee hid in the back, playing with dolls while he drove, Mark’s stupid chrome platted M9 in his lap just waiting for a reason to put someone down. Dodging zombies wasn’t hard, they couldn’t get to the car fast enough to be a problem, even if they were fresh runners. Hitting them was often the only option though, knowing full well a crappy foreign SUV is not an ATV and would only take so much it occasionally got dicey. The remains of so many of the same models of cars littered the countryside, bogged down by mud, some by collisions with other cars or piles of corpses. People’s vehicles were stuck on the sides of every road, all trying to escape traffic snarls that piled upon themselves for miles and ended in yet more traffic clusters. Daniel lost the front bumper to a wheelchair bound zombie in the middle of the road. He ran over the man and his chair with a sickening crunch that made Kaylee cry. Some redneck’s Rebel Flag painted truck was stuck on top of a mountain of still squirming undead, their entrails and limbs jamming the wheels and getting caught in the gears and lift kit. There were zombies inside of cars, the people inside eaten alive when the windows were compromised.
A few bodies in the distance were still raging, one chased the van for almost a mile before suddenly going stiff and face-planting on the pavement. Her body slid, skinning most of her face off. Someone shot at the van too, pellets from a buckshot clanking off the fenders but thankfully the assholes missed the tires. Kaylee screamed at that one, Daniel did too, but he didn’t stop. The farther they got from downtown Washington DC the less destruction they saw. After an hour of not seeing anyone, undead or alive, Daniel let Kaylee sit in the front seat. She told him she had to pee again. He felt bad when he realized he’d completely forgotten to bring clean clothes for Kaylee. They were both wearing gross old stuff, how had he overlooked that?
Pulling over on a wooded stretch of highway Daniel got out and secured the area. He didn’t hear anything but a few helicopters in the background, some birds chirping, the canopy of the trees silhouetted against the storm of smoke to the East. This singular place felt safe in the smoggy summer. The wind blew so hot he wished it wouldn’t blow at all, the smells of rot and ash filled his throat. Kaylee got out and Daniel turned the other way, giving her some semblance privacy. When she finished he took his turn, having forgotten how badly he needed to go in all the rush of running for his life. A few minutes down the road again Daniel slammed the brakes hard and skidded to a halt, a sight he wasn’t excited to see just ahead of him. An Army/FEMA checkpoint manned with people still holding guns was unavoidable now. The infected didn’t hold onto anything but you, so at least there was that. He didn’t know how he felt about running into the Army already though.
A Blackhawk chopper thundered overhead, circled, and took station behind them. Another car that had been a good distance behind stopped just behind their van when it caught up. The driver, a teenage boy with duct-tape wrapped around his clothes like a bite proof suit climbed out and waved to the men in the chopper with joy. Daniel was prepared to run the checkpoint, but none of the Soldiers turned their guns on him except the stationary gunner whose entire job it was to follow you with a gun. The psychotic shit he’d seen go down wasn’t happening here, these men were calm and in control and nobody was eating anybody else. A Humvee approached the two cars, a bullhorn instructing them to proceed at 25mph, no faster. The Soldiers escorted them into a sallyport surrounded by concrete construction barriers and a few
Daniel drove for what seemed like hours, the landscape of ashen colored burned down buildings a horrifying reminder that the disaster was everywhere. Kaylee hid in the back, playing with dolls while he drove, Mark’s stupid chrome platted M9 in his lap just waiting for a reason to put someone down. Dodging zombies wasn’t hard, they couldn’t get to the car fast enough to be a problem, even if they were fresh runners. Hitting them was often the only option though, knowing full well a crappy foreign SUV is not an ATV and would only take so much it occasionally got dicey. The remains of so many of the same models of cars littered the countryside, bogged down by mud, some by collisions with other cars or piles of corpses. People’s vehicles were stuck on the sides of every road, all trying to escape traffic snarls that piled upon themselves for miles and ended in yet more traffic clusters. Daniel lost the front bumper to a wheelchair bound zombie in the middle of the road. He ran over the man and his chair with a sickening crunch that made Kaylee cry. Some redneck’s Rebel Flag painted truck was stuck on top of a mountain of still squirming undead, their entrails and limbs jamming the wheels and getting caught in the gears and lift kit. There were zombies inside of cars, the people inside eaten alive when the windows were compromised.
A few bodies in the distance were still raging, one chased the van for almost a mile before suddenly going stiff and face-planting on the pavement. Her body slid, skinning most of her face off. Someone shot at the van too, pellets from a buckshot clanking off the fenders but thankfully the assholes missed the tires. Kaylee screamed at that one, Daniel did too, but he didn’t stop. The farther they got from downtown Washington DC the less destruction they saw. After an hour of not seeing anyone, undead or alive, Daniel let Kaylee sit in the front seat. She told him she had to pee again. He felt bad when he realized he’d completely forgotten to bring clean clothes for Kaylee. They were both wearing gross old stuff, how had he overlooked that?
Pulling over on a wooded stretch of highway Daniel got out and secured the area. He didn’t hear anything but a few helicopters in the background, some birds chirping, the canopy of the trees silhouetted against the storm of smoke to the East. This singular place felt safe in the smoggy summer. The wind blew so hot he wished it wouldn’t blow at all, the smells of rot and ash filled his throat. Kaylee got out and Daniel turned the other way, giving her some semblance privacy. When she finished he took his turn, having forgotten how badly he needed to go in all the rush of running for his life. A few minutes down the road again Daniel slammed the brakes hard and skidded to a halt, a sight he wasn’t excited to see just ahead of him. An Army/FEMA checkpoint manned with people still holding guns was unavoidable now. The infected didn’t hold onto anything but you, so at least there was that. He didn’t know how he felt about running into the Army already though.
A Blackhawk chopper thundered overhead, circled, and took station behind them. Another car that had been a good distance behind stopped just behind their van when it caught up. The driver, a teenage boy with duct-tape wrapped around his clothes like a bite proof suit climbed out and waved to the men in the chopper with joy. Daniel was prepared to run the checkpoint, but none of the Soldiers turned their guns on him except the stationary gunner whose entire job it was to follow you with a gun. The psychotic shit he’d seen go down wasn’t happening here, these men were calm and in control and nobody was eating anybody else. A Humvee approached the two cars, a bullhorn instructing them to proceed at 25mph, no faster. The Soldiers escorted them into a sallyport surrounded by concrete construction barriers and a few
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