Free The Zombie Virus (Book 1) by Paul Hetzer Page B

to my house leading this
ravenous mob of enraged murderous creatures to my doorstep.
    I stopped the truck.
    Loonies appeared from the green manicured
yards beside and ahead of me while the pursuing crowd of growling,
jostling infected was nearly to the back of the truck. I looked
around me in a dreamlike state, exhausted from long, hard days of
work and little sleep.
    It was a beautiful but hot summer day, the
sky was a deep indigo blue. The sun crept to the western horizon
and small cotton white cumulus clouds drifted lazily across my
view. Not a single contrail graced the sky. The truck’s air
conditioning had dried the sweat on my arms and face, and
everything felt normal for a moment.
    I looked outside again, it all seemed so
surreal. It would be so easy to give in.
    Fuck that! I let out a bloody scream and
shifted the gear lever into reverse, stomping on the gas. The truck
sped backward plowing into the first of the Loonies. Then I was
into the bulk of them. The truck bounced up and down, crushing
bodies beneath its massive tires. A staccato banging sound rang out
loudly from the multiple bodies bouncing off of the tailgate as I
rolled though the horde of infected. Arms clawed at the side of the
truck when I sped by.
    I was soon free of the mob. I spun the wheel
and the truck skidded 180 degrees facing out of the neighborhood. I
drove out and turned onto the main road, parking about one hundred
yards up on the shoulder. Behind me the infected that could still
move were chasing after the truck.
    I sat there with the engine idling, the
guttural growl of the 5.4 liter Triton engine reverberating off of
the trees beside me. It gave me a powerful feeling and I felt safer
than I probably actually was. Bring it on you bastards! I thought
to myself as I looked in the rearview mirror at the approaching
mob. We’re going to play a little game of hide ‘n’ seek!
    There was a back way onto the street where my
house was located, an old overgrown logging road used by ATV’s and
BMXers. It connected to the main road a half mile ahead. I put the
Ford into four wheel drive. The Loonies were pouring around the
corner and onto the main road, closing fast.
    I revved the engine and hit the horn on the
truck, sounding long blasts. A startled flock of birds took to wing
from the trees. I started the truck moving forward at a running
pace, still laying on the horn. I looked in the rearview and saw
the stragglers and injured infected rounding the turn out of my
neighborhood, following the larger crowd that was sprinting after
the truck.
    I continued on, leading them away from my
family.
    I reached the turn to the old road which was
nothing more than a couple of weed filled ruts through the trees
and brush. Behind me the horde closed the distance, though still a
few hundred yards back. I turned the pickup onto the logging trail.
Branches slapped at the windshield and hood as I sped off down the
road, the stiff suspension bouncing me off the seat when I hit the
puddle filled potholes.
    I traversed the trail quickly, now wishing
the truck’s exhaust was a bit quieter. My wife, son and I had
walked this trail many times over the years, although it looked
eerily unfamiliar from the high vantage point of the truck. The
trail spilled out into the back lot of a neighbor’s house.
    The street was quiet and empty. I drove up to
my driveway, scanning the road for any of the infected, my
situational awareness on high alert. I saw only one shuffling up
the road toward me in a soiled tattered pink nightgown.
    I backed the truck into the driveway, putting
the tailgate as close to the front door as I could, and shut down
the engine. The quiet was unnerving. I stepped out of the pickup
and briskly walked toward the Loony, my one shoe slapping loudly on
the concrete. It was an older woman – I recognized her although I
didn’t know her name. When she spotted me she ran at me with an
unbelievable burst of speed, with that keening growl that I was
becoming