Least Likely To Survive (3 page)

I didn’t really mourn, as there wasn’t much for me to feel sorry about.  No one had ever done me any favors and I had always felt that humanity in general was fucked up.  As much as I knew I should be, I just couldn’t manage to muster any sorrow for all the carnage.

Reaching Washington, I made a left, and headed south towards 84
th
Avenue, where I hung a right.  For being a relatively populated area, the roads were somewhat clear; other than the cars already smashed into each other and buildings, and of course the crowds of infected wandering around and climbing in and out of cars.  I was the lone vehicle still on the road and moving in any sort of direction.  I reached the I-25 exit and made a left, turning down the onramp and merging onto the interstate. 

More cars were wrecked and abandoned, which didn’t surprise me, but what made it harrowing was that they all were still blocking the road, which made it slow going for me.  Also unsettling was the little snatches of zombies huddled close to the ground, apparently feasting on the unlucky motorists who were dumb enough to get out of the car.  Who the fuck gets out of the car in a crowd of zombies?  Those ill-fated bastards; that was who.  The sight of all this made me think of Jurassic Park, and of being in one of those SUVs, peering out the windows and watching dinosaurs tearing through goats.  I was well aware that I had a sick and slightly warped mind, but the end of the world didn’t feel like the best time to be stoic and thoughtful.

I was moving slow but steady as I made my way down the highway, headed towards downtown Denver.  Just as I passed the exit for 20
th
Street was when shit started to get hairy.  The road narrowed, cutting down on the amount of lanes and was blocked in by medians on both sides, so there was no way to exit in an emergency.  I felt like I was playing Burnout; with the amount of cars I stealthily avoided.

Looking at the city around me was what really caught my breath.  To the left, you could still see the CenturyLink building, Elitch’s, and the new glass condos that had just gone up.  But the fucked up thing was that everything was on fire.  Smoke was rising from pretty much every other high rise, and the flames reflected in the glass turned the entire skyline orange.  There weren’t any sounds save for the crackle of the fires, which was the most unsettling part.  No traffic, no horns, no people.  It really did look like the end of the fucking world.  I could only stare and continue down the road as the world fell apart around me in a deafening silence.

I reached the end of the southern Denver suburbs after what felt like an eternity, and began to ease a little as the road gave way to open fields and rolling hills on either side.  I was making pretty good time, although the thought of time really made no difference now, what with the world ending and all. 

Except for the occasional car abandoned on the interstate here and there, I was essentially alone.  I continued south, passing a few small towns, and eventually passed through Colorado Springs; which also looked as devastating as Denver had, although on a smaller scale.  I thought about going by the Air Force or the Army base, and seeing if there was anywhere safe to camp out, but quickly decided against it as it would serve no real purpose for me. 

I kept on the road, while also keeping a wary eye on the sun in the horizon, gauging the distance to nightfall.  This was something that concerned me; what was I to do about nightfall?  I knew I couldn’t keep driving forever, and would eventually have to stop for sleep, and even sooner, a bathroom.

“Ah fuck.”
  Just thinking about a bathroom gave me the urge to pee.  I considered just pissing my pants, but cast that idea aside just as soon as it arose, and measured out my options.  I could look for a gas station with a bathroom, but it was very likely to be overrun by zombies, and I didn’t fancy the idea of being caught with my pants down.

I could pull over to the side of the road and hang my ass out the door, but again, not ideal.  It was a crapshoot.  As I was in the middle of nowhere, and hadn’t seen a car or a person for miles, I opted for the latter.

I guided the car over to the shoulder, and idled for a minute, while surveying the area for any sign of a possible threat.  Once I determined the coast to be clear, I opened the door, with the engine still running and proceeded to climb down the side.  I stood there for a second, taking another look around and hurriedly unfastened my cargos, sliding them down to my ankles.  I grabbed hold of the door handle and aimed my ass away from me, assuming the ‘crouching tiger’ hover all women have ingrained into our psyche in the happenstance we have to pee outside, or at a particularly unpleasant toilet. 

Finishing my business, I realized quickly I had no toilet paper, and grumbled to myself as I kind of shook dry.  I pulled my pants back up just as fast as they came down and hauled myself back into the Hummer.  “Mission Accomplished,” I told myself out loud with a large amount of satisfaction as I buckled my seat belt and steered the beast back onto the road.
 

It had worked out in my favor that I had decided to hit the road early on in the day and being April, it was starting to get darker later although the chance of snow was still a real possibility. There weren’t any clouds on the horizon so I figured I still had a few good daylight hours to burn.

I was somewhere between Colorado Springs and Pueblo when I noticed the gas gauge was starting a slow decline.  I still had a good amount of gas, but decided this would be an excellent time to find a po-dunk station somewhere and refuel.  Plus, I hadn’t been able to check to see if the gas cans on the back were full or not.  I was pondering this dilemma as fate intervened, and placed just such a gas station off in the distance.

I was driving through what might be a town, as I could see houses off in the distance with what looked like a gas station/general store just off the road.  I reasoned this was as good a place as any to stop. 

I started to slow the Hummer, while peering around, attempting to gauge the situation.  As I got closer, I noticed there was a black Lincoln Navigator already parked at the pumps, but didn’t see anyone else around.  I pulled in and stopped at the pump right in front of the Navigator, and proceeded to rearm myself.  I strapped into my amazingly bad-ass gun harness, and strapped my short sword back to my thigh.  Suddenly it occurred to me I had no idea how I was actually going to procure the gasoline.

In today’s world, gone are the days when you can just pull up and fill up, then go in and pay.  Now you have to prepay with either a card outside, or from the attendant inside.  I didn’t really want to go inside unless I absolutely had to, so I grabbed my debit card from my wallet and stuck it in my bra strap; as a pocket would take too much time.  I left the keys in the ignition, but turned the car off, opened the door, and hopped down.  I shut the door, and crept cautiously around the front of Hummer, so as to not be trapped between it and the Navigator.  For safe measure I removed a handgun from under my arm, making sure the safety was off, and aimed it in front of me; just like cops do on TV when entering a place of possible danger.

Humming the ‘Mission Impossible’ theme quietly, I approached the pump and slid my card.  To my complete shock and amazement, it fucking worked!  I grabbed the hose and jammed it into the Hummer and let it fill up.  While the pump was working its magic, I rounded to the back to investigate the gas cans.  I briefly glanced in and around the Navigator, but the coast was still clear, so I unlatched one of the cans and discovered one to be full, but the other bone dry.  I hauled the empty over to the pump, and after the latch released indicating the Hummer was full, shoved the nozzle into the gas can and repeated the process.

It didn’t take long, as the cans only held about 5 gallons each, but that was still 10 extra gallons of gas I wouldn’t have to look for a gas station to obtain later.  Just as I was pulling the hose out of the can to place back on the pump, I heard shouting and gunshots coming from the gas station. 

Apparently the people from the Navigator had run into a spot of trouble.  I watched as two men came tearing out the front door, with three zombies hot on their trail.  Okay, I really just wanted to get back into my Hummer, and get the hell out of there, but since I was already outside, and armed to the teeth, I thought perhaps I would be a Good Samaritan and give them a hand.  I reached behind me, and pulled out the Mossberg; eager to try it out anyway, and started to head in their direction. 

It was apparent that they had run out of ammo as one guy was using a tire iron to fight off a zombie, and the other some sort of crow bar to fend off the other two.  I aimed at one of the zombies once I got close enough to be confident I wouldn’t miss, and fired.

“Heads!” was all I had time to yell before I pulled the trigger and let a shell fly.  Let’s remember for a second, I’m not a large woman, and I’d never fired a shotgun before, so yet again the kickback took me by surprise and sent my ass staggering backwards a few feet.  As I regained my composure, I saw that I had blown a hole in the zombie’s face, and it had fallen to the ground.  I could even see the ground through the gaping wound.

“Fucking legit!” I couldn’t contain my glee at the damage inflicted by my newly acquired weapon.  I then turned and ‘rinsed and repeated’ on the other zombie, taking it down just as nicely. 

After dispatching those two, the guy I had just saved and I started to run over to his buddy to lend a hand, except his buddy hadn’t fared as well as we had.  The tire iron was on the ground and the zombie had a firm grip on the guy’s jugular, as he let out what can only be described as a ‘blood-curdling’ scream.

I tossed down the shotgun, pulled out a handgun, and blew a hole through first the back of his head, and then right into the now open mouth of the zombie.  I know the guy had been alive, but not for long, and I didn’t want him to continue to suffer.  Plus even if he had lived, he would have turned and I would have had to kill him anyway; better now than deal with it later.

Winded from the adrenaline rush, I turned to the guy still standing.  He stood motionless, staring at the body of his companion.  “You shot him.
Why did you shoot him?!”
  He turned to me with the most offended and incredulous look I had ever seen on anyone’s face before; apparently I had committed some sort of faux-pas.

“Well, if it hasn’t escaped your attention, half his neck was hanging from the mouth of that zombie.” I pointed down to where said flesh was still visible inside the zombie’s mouth.  “Sorry, but your friend was already dead.” I shrugged as I turned from him, reached down and picked up the shotgun, clearing the chamber and sticking it back into the holster on my back.

I heard him following behind me as I made my way back to the Hummer so I could pack up the other gas can and be on my way.

“Fuck, Steve.  Fuck, buddy, I’m so fucking sorry, man.”  I turned to watch his face as he apologized to his friend, and couldn’t help but notice the look of complete devastation that had overtaken his features.  I felt a pang of guilt looking at him.  Here I was, going around shooting people all nonchalant-like, and this dude was the very epitome of a broken man.  I sighed.  I couldn’t leave him; he looked so sad and defenseless standing there.

I walked back to him, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry about your friend, I know how you feel, and this whole thing fucking blows.  Where you headed?”

He turned his head to glance at me before looking back at Steve.  “I’m not sure, I think we were going to try to make it home; we were the only ones to make it out alive, and we wanted to see if anything was better in the cities.  What the fuck is happening? I mean, one minute things are totally normal, and the next, it was like fucking, I mean,
zombies
, man.  Fucking
zombies
started eating people.  They’re all dead.  Everyone is fucking dead.  Is anyone else in the world alive?”  He looked at me, and my stomach dropped at the questioning look on his face, as though I should have the answers as to why the world had fallen apart.  I had no answers for him.

“You’re the first person I have seen in weeks that isn’t already dead or trying to eat my face.”  I grimly looked up at him, and noticed for the first time how familiar he looked.  I knew this guy from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place him.  “Well, since we’re both alone, do you wanna come with me? I’m heading to Texas.”

His eyes got curious as he asked, “What’s in Texas?”

“If I told you now, you’ll probably rob me in my sleep and steal my brilliant plan.  So for now you’re on a Need to Know basis.”  I said this with a completely straight and serious face, staring at him intently to make sure my point got across before turning around heading back to the car.

He ran and caught up with me, “Are you always this paranoid?” he threw at me, and I didn’t miss the ‘eye rolling’ in his voice.

“Well, I’m alive, so apparently it’s working out for me,” I shot back out of irritation.  We reached the Hummer, and I walked over to the driver side, opened the door and hit the unlock button on the panel, unlocking the passenger side.  I walked back around and pulled the hose out of the car and placed it in the empty gas can.  He sat in the passenger seat silently staring out the windshield.  I was glad to be filling the gas can as I had no idea what to say to him.  I wasn’t exactly a ‘people person’ and having someone else around just felt awkward.