My name is Chris, Ive lost track of time. It feels like years since I first started running, but I think its only been a few months. Days turn to weeks, and the weeks drags on, such is the new way of life. And yet, despite the violence and chaos, I dont really miss the old world...

Friday, January 21, 2011

Welcome to the coast

     Losing my undead followers, I slow down.  The roads are littered with abandoned vehicles but its a manageable drive.  As I begin to approach the city limits the number of cars on the road begin to dwindle.  The car I "acquired" Is a very nice ride.  One of those new models just off the lot, the digital compass helps a great deal.  Thinking about all the luxuries this car had let me escape the real world for a moment.  For once, I had a top of the line car.  I was the only one on the road, and I didn't pay a dime.  A few months ago I would have been on top of the world.  Looking ahead brought me back, in the road there was a trio of the undead hunched over something in the middle of the road.  An out of place grin had cracked across my face, and I stepped on the gas.  The crunch of bones heard below my as the car heaved up and down, the went back to smooth sailing. Looking in the rear view mirror I see a mass of gore, my tires leaving a short trail before disappearing.  Sure it was hell on the car, but its the best Ive felt in a while.  The tangled mass of bodies shrinking in the rear view mirror, which told me I was heading west.
      The wind blowing in the vehicle through the smashed window smelled of the ocean, which had brought back memories from childhood.  Playing on the beach in the Carolinas, I felt like I did when we used to go to the beach.  "Mom, you'd be proud of me.  I'm making it on my own..."  My voice was lost below the wind flowing in.  Slowing down to light a cigarette, the smoke dances in place above my head before being blown away by the wind as I gained speed.  Continuing down the road, the roads begin to thicken with vehicles, a seaside town sprawled behind the sea of steel in front of me.  Unable to traverse the road by car, I say goodbye to most likely the nicest thing I have ever owned, even if temporarily.  Snaking between the wrecked and abandoned vehicles I make my way towards the beginning of the town and flick the cigarette away from me.  Coming to one of the last cars before the streets clear out, I duck behind the trunk and take in the street ahead.  Clear for the most part, but there were some fresh corpses out, a few of them were unmoving.  "Fresh kills, they might be up soon..."  As I unholster my gun, I see a figure dart out from the other side of a building, A leap followed by sending a baseball bat into a head of a nearby ghoul.  Standing up, I head towards the intersection, gun raised.  The man, built like a truck just stares at me, oblivious to the ghoul behind him.  Raising  my gun I nod my head, then pull the trigger.  The man stood there, eyes fixed on mine, a thud sounding behind him.  Turning around he sees the ghoul, a clean bullet hole just above its right eyebrow.  Lowering my gun I start to head towards him.  "I would have warned you, but it was getting too close for my comfort."  Extending my hand out I introduce myself.  "Names Chris.  You from around here?"
       Ignoring my extended hand, he opts to grab me and give me a hug that nearly popped my eyes out.  "Names Brock, and man its good to see another living person!"  letting me go, I feel the blood rush back to my head.  Taking a moment to let my vision return, I ask Brock about the town.  "Hey, do you know much about this town?  I'm looking to find a boat."  Looking at me he points out a flaw that I had never thought about.  "You don't look like the kind that knows how to pilot a boat."  Chuckling as he picks up his bat he continues talking as he heads down  the street.  "You coming with?"  A glance back at me, and he continues down the road.  Unable to say anything, I follow him down the street.  Jogging to catch up I make it a few feet behind him before a large, muscled hand shot out.  His hand easily was as large as my face, keeping me from going any further.  "Shh, let me take these two."  Brock silently walks up to the ghoul blindly shuffling away from him.  One solid swing, followed by a loud crack, and the ghoul falls to the ground.  Dropping the bat, he pulls out a glove, and waits for the nearby ghoul to plod towards its demise.  If it wasn't for the fact that it would devour us without second notice, I would almost feel bad for it.  But I don't.  Fast as lightning, Brock's fist shoots forward, Sending the ghoul flying backwards.  Caving in its skull, it was dead before it hit the ground.  Turning around he sees my jaw has dropped.  Recomposing myself, I look at him and can only say one thing.  "Remind me to not piss you off."  All he could do was chuckle, shaking off the gore from what I now see was a metal plated work glove.  I pick up Brock's bat and ask him where we are going.  Taking his bat, he points to to a warehouse on the end of the street.  Following Brock, we make our way towards the large building.

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