Good evening, welcome to the regular Friday night short story! This week it’s part 6 of the ongoing I, Zombie tale, where things progress just a little further. This run of ongoing stories will come to a brief end in a few weeks with Part 10, and I’ll be opening up the Friday night slot for a little while. Enjoying the story? Get in touch! Head over to the Contact Simon page and send me your missives. Any and all correspondence will be read and receive a reply – even the nasty ones.
The jeep ploughed through anything and everything in its path. After what had just happened, if they didn’t have to stop then they wouldn’t. It pushed on through the devastate outskirts, knocking aside the empty husks of vehicles that had long since been abandoned and scavenged for spare parts. It had taken several minutes for the sound of the dead to fade into the background.
“We would’ve barely made a dent in their numbers” said Howard, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He said it without expecting a response. It was a statement of fact.
It was clearing up the further away from the city they drove, letting Howard drive almost in a straight line without stopping for the first time in hours.
“I know. I’m surprised we made it out at all.” Jenkins was shaken by their close encounter. She had only driven far enough away to avoid an attack before pulling over and letting Howard take the wheel once more. He had more experience by the wheel, had a more vicious streak to his driving that left him pushing the engine almost to its limits for long stretches of time. He wanted to get back to the base, as quickly as the battered old jeep would carry him there.
Jenkins sat in the back seat, watching Pops. He was different to the others, but he was still one of the dead. There was still a very real risk that he could turn on them, although she considered it unlikely. What had happened back there? It was if he was able to control the dead. Was that even possible? It warranted further investigation, with the correct personnel.
Pops rolled away from Howard and Jenkins. He couldn’t look at them while the hunger was controlling him. He tried to focus on their voices rather than the sight of them. That way he could control it to some extent, to refocus his energy away from eating.
As a distraction he tried to think back to the hotel room where he had awoken. He still had no memory before that, try as he might to remember. He focused all of his energy on that hotel room, doing his best to ignore the fog that was slowly encroaching on his sight. If he didn’t eat soon he would be functionally blind, operating only on instinct. If it came to that, he couldn’t guarantee the safety of Howard or Jenkins. He didn’t want to be forced to make that choice.
The jeep came to a stop. When it didn’t start moving again within a minute, Pops risked looking up. Through the fog of hunger he saw Jenkins. Behind her was a large doorway cut into the mountainside. Jenkins looked down on him with sympathy.
“It’s okay Pops. We’re home.”