"Well this is going to be a fun one"
As I stood outside of the car about 250 yards away from Brando's house I wondered how I'd cross the kill zone without being shot.
Before me was an almost impassable blockade of bodies. Strewn about the road and most of the side hill were hundreds of headless
monsters.
Brando had been keeping himself busy evidently.
"Well I guess If theres no going around maybe I can go over it."
I got back into my truck started her up and put her in 4 wheel drive. Slowly crawling over the zombies I felt every snap and compression of the bodies under my tires. It made my stomach lurch.
*THUNK*
A bullet slammed straight into the hood of my truck and It instantly starts misfiring.
"Fucking Christ!"
I instantly got out of my Truck and flailed my arms above my head trying to wave off another assault. He didn't fire again so I started to walked closer to the building.
Suddenly the sound of scraping boots and gargled moans seemed to come rushing up behind me.
"You've gotta be shittin' me"
Amish Zombies.
Well I don't think they are still religious and adhere to their Amish beliefs but semantics aside these bearded farmers were steaming right at me with bloody intent.
*CRACK!*
A bullet flew through the air and smacked one of the simple folks square in the forehead. It was gruesomely awesome watching his head fly to pieces. With that I knew that at least I wasn't the enemy anymore.
Quickly I unslung the Remington R-25 and took aim. Before I could shoot another Zombie fell to the ground which was only a slight distraction. I squeezed the trigger and my rifle spat out it's vulgarity at a violent decibel. Another zombie dropped with mine but there were just too many.
I turned my ass around and ran as fast as I could. Thank god for my height, if I was a short chubby guy my legs wouldn't have been fast enough. Still these zombies were hot on my heels chomping at the air behind my back with every step.
Every second it seemed another crack rang out and shortly after a satisfying thud was felt behind me. A mere 100 feet and I'd be in a fortified structure with a good friend and , thankfully, military supporting, gun loving, registered republican. More Cracks, More thuds, closer to safety but then something went terribly wrong.
One of them managed to get close enough to me to tackle me to the ground. It made a bite at my backpack and tried to get at my neck but I just kept moving so It couldn't get a chance to sink it's teeth into me. More of them were coming it was all over, I'd seen thins in movies. They would huddle around me clawing at my insides, hungry and voracious. I'd be helpless.
No it wasn't going to happen!
"FUCK YOU DEAD FUCKER!"
I rolled to my back and faced the creature, She would've been pretty if it wasn't for her left eye being bitten in halve. I pushed her away so I could draw my pistol but as she reeled back someone kicked her square in the chest. The person pinned her to the ground with his foot and blasted her head off with a shotgun, I was too dumbstruck to recognize the model.
"Get Up!"
A voice shouted at me as a hand was shoved towards my faced.I grabbed It instinctively and with a strong tug I was pulled to my feet. I had time now to pull my .45 and shoot a few before continuing to run. Two more down but that didn't make much of a difference. They were right on us so instead of trying to make an epic stand we ran.
We quickly made it inside and the man put a Two by Four in front of the door, this was his safety measure.
"God damn that was fun" Said my ass saver.
"Well maybe for you man, that bitch was going to eat me." I proclaimed through winded breaths.
"Well Mason at least some girl wants your meat." He said with a Chuckle.
"Fuck you Brando"
I was still out of breath.
"What's Up What's up?" queried Brando
"Well nothing really just came down here from town for a few things."
"Well what do you need bud?"
"Let's get something to drink first" I wanted to sit and catch up before I asked for a firearm or supplies of any type.
"Okay bud no problem, we got kool-aid and beer."
You never drink the kool-aid, It might actually kill you.
"I'll be set, I brought my own. here take one."
I gave Brando an AP and it had the same effect on him as it did with me.
"Pure fucking win right?" I said to him.
So we sat down drank the AP's and started in on the beer when I asked him.
"Hey if I get a gun from you Sheila will give you supplies."
Instead of asking for the firearm I posed it as a fact, an open arrangement he would be stupid to ignore.
"Okay" he stated as he reached into a desk pulled a Berreta M9 from a drawer and a small box of ammo.
"Alright dude thanks"
The Berreta sat on the table as we spent the night getting pissed.
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