Highway of the Dead
Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2010 3:31 am
Highway of the Dead
(7-Nov-2004)
"Damn!"
“Damn and damn and damn! I don't God-damn believe this!" John yelled to no one and everyone. It was 11:30AM and he had been sitting in traffic for over 4 hours and in the past 2 he had barely gone 1/2 mile. He was following the mad exodus of humanity away from the spread of the Living Dead.
He still couldn't believe it but all night spent watching the cable news showing scenes of horror and madness didn't give him any choice. Official word was for people to stay in their homes but “Screw that!” John thought. People were just being killed in their living rooms anyway.
So when he started getting reports and phone calls from friends and family that the Dead were getting close to his home he and a few million others did the only thing that made sense. Get the fuck out of there!
John was a Big-Rig trucker. He gassed up and took off. He thought that his rig would give him more protection. He could just run those fuckers down if they tried to stop him. Now though, he was stuck on the northbound side of the highway jammed between cars and others trucks like a sardine in a can.
The radio was spitting out that Emergency Broadcast useless shit message to put your head in the sand but not telling anyone what was going on.
There was one local channel that John had been listening to about 2 hours ago but the female DJ just kept crying as the reports kept coming in on how the Dead were getting closer. She kept the microphone on as she was babbling so everyone listening could hear the panic rise up in the voices around her and then the screams from coworkers as the studio was overrun.
Looking down into the cars below him he could see people frantically trying to use their cell phones. John almost tried his again but he stopped getting a signal over an hour ago.
His CB radio was working but trying to find anyone who actually had any idea of what was happening or could give any kind of hope was zero, zip, nada.
John was on the top of a rise in the road and could see for over a mile in front of him and the same behind.
There was not much traffic on the highway going the other way but there was a little.
John guessed it was people trying to get to their families.
“Poor bastards.” John said out loud when he thought about the burning cities and towns that he left behind.
For the past few hours John saw several military convoys heading south.
But ½ hour ago 2 Army jeeps raced north in the southbound highway.
That scared the shit out of John.
But no one really knew what to do or which direction to go for sure though.
His plan was to head north to his brother Rick’s cabin in the White Mountains. It was secluded and deep into the woods. Rick had a ton of supplies and enough guns to outfit a platoon!
It was about ten minutes after those two Jeeps passed that John saw a figure shamble out from the trees along the side of the road opposite of him.
The person was maybe 1/2 mile away so John couldn't see him too well but he could tell the sucker was hurt by the way he was walking.
An oncoming car was heading right for the poor bastard.
The car swerved but at the last minute it seemed to John that the guy actually lunged at the car!
That gave John a sick feeling in his stomach.
He saw the figure start to walk down the highway in John's direction.
John started swearing, as the figure got closer.
It was one of those dead bastards!
Soon the highway fence that separated the North and South lanes from each other obscured the shambling figure.
John looked around for any type of opening that he could drive his truck through but even the shoulder was jammed with cars.
Looking back at the figure John still couldn’t see it but his heart almost stopped when he did see 3 more figures come out onto the highway from beneath the trees. Sticking his head out the truck door's window and looking back he swore out loud when he saw dozens more crossing onto the highway behind him too.
"Shit fuck! Fuck and shit! Now what the fuck do I do?" he yelled out.
The first Zombie he had seen was visible again.
It was maybe 100 feet away and trying to climb over the small fence separating the North and South lanes.
3 cars sped wildly up the southbound side, horns blaring the occupants pointing at the Dead and screaming. One car swerved too hard and flipped over on its side right below John's view. Several of the Dead quickly surrounded it and began actually attacking the car to get to the people inside. And after they broke through the windows they succeeded. John could see the driver fighting madly against the Dead. If they were human he might have been successful. His well-placed blows would have stunned or injured a normal man. These Dead took the blows and bit and gouged at the hands that hit them in return. Soon one of the driver’s arms was just ripped off him and two of the Dead feasted on it as he screamed.
When all “activity” within the car stopped the dead moved away.
John vomited all over himself when he saw that the last of the Dead to walk away from the car wreck was the driver himself. His arm was missing and his eyes were black and dead.
People on the northbound side started getting out of their cars to flee on foot.
John almost did that himself but being so high in his Truck cab and being at the very top of the rise in the road gave him a unique perspective.
He could see, maybe 1 mile in front of him on the his side of the highway now, a literal flood of shambling creatures flowing out from the trees onto the highway.
Looking out his rear view mirror he thought he saw the same thing happening behind him.
He put his head down on the steering wheel and prayed to God for help.
His answer was a sound from above and behind him.
It was a helicopter!
Hope flooded in his heart.
John looked up expecting to see salvation but instead he saw that the helicopter itself needed help. High above was a large military transport helicopter but it was smoking and careening out of control. Small human figures were jumping out the doors in the sides and falling to their deaths. One body actually crashed down onto a car's rooftop just 20 feet away. She landed on her back but John could see that she had her throat ripped open and part of her face was gone.
And right before John's eyes the ‘copter pitched to the side and nose-dived right in to the highway maybe 3 miles in front of him.
His hope died.
Dead were swarming all over the cars and trucks below him, killing, biting and maiming as they went adding the newly Dead to their ranks.
Soon John was like an island in a sea of insanity and mayhem.
Those poor bastards that tried to run away on foot were just torn apart.
Many people just locked their doors and stayed huddled inside thinking that they were safe.
They weren’t.
John saw the Dead smashing windshields with their bare hands sometimes even to the point of shattering their whole arms in a spray of bone and blood.
When the first Dead climbed up the front of his rig began pounding on his windshield though, John knew his time was at hand and reached in to the glove compartment and pulled out his handgun.
He bought it 12 years ago to keep himself safe and outside of the local shooting range he never had to use it.
When his cab went dark from the Dead that blocked most the sunlight light with their torn bodies as they beat on the glass trying to get in to him, John put the gun to his head.
When the passenger side window shattered inwards before the relentless pounding of the Dead, John shut his eyes and pulled the trigger.
- THE END -
(7-Nov-2004)
"Damn!"
“Damn and damn and damn! I don't God-damn believe this!" John yelled to no one and everyone. It was 11:30AM and he had been sitting in traffic for over 4 hours and in the past 2 he had barely gone 1/2 mile. He was following the mad exodus of humanity away from the spread of the Living Dead.
He still couldn't believe it but all night spent watching the cable news showing scenes of horror and madness didn't give him any choice. Official word was for people to stay in their homes but “Screw that!” John thought. People were just being killed in their living rooms anyway.
So when he started getting reports and phone calls from friends and family that the Dead were getting close to his home he and a few million others did the only thing that made sense. Get the fuck out of there!
John was a Big-Rig trucker. He gassed up and took off. He thought that his rig would give him more protection. He could just run those fuckers down if they tried to stop him. Now though, he was stuck on the northbound side of the highway jammed between cars and others trucks like a sardine in a can.
The radio was spitting out that Emergency Broadcast useless shit message to put your head in the sand but not telling anyone what was going on.
There was one local channel that John had been listening to about 2 hours ago but the female DJ just kept crying as the reports kept coming in on how the Dead were getting closer. She kept the microphone on as she was babbling so everyone listening could hear the panic rise up in the voices around her and then the screams from coworkers as the studio was overrun.
Looking down into the cars below him he could see people frantically trying to use their cell phones. John almost tried his again but he stopped getting a signal over an hour ago.
His CB radio was working but trying to find anyone who actually had any idea of what was happening or could give any kind of hope was zero, zip, nada.
John was on the top of a rise in the road and could see for over a mile in front of him and the same behind.
There was not much traffic on the highway going the other way but there was a little.
John guessed it was people trying to get to their families.
“Poor bastards.” John said out loud when he thought about the burning cities and towns that he left behind.
For the past few hours John saw several military convoys heading south.
But ½ hour ago 2 Army jeeps raced north in the southbound highway.
That scared the shit out of John.
But no one really knew what to do or which direction to go for sure though.
His plan was to head north to his brother Rick’s cabin in the White Mountains. It was secluded and deep into the woods. Rick had a ton of supplies and enough guns to outfit a platoon!
It was about ten minutes after those two Jeeps passed that John saw a figure shamble out from the trees along the side of the road opposite of him.
The person was maybe 1/2 mile away so John couldn't see him too well but he could tell the sucker was hurt by the way he was walking.
An oncoming car was heading right for the poor bastard.
The car swerved but at the last minute it seemed to John that the guy actually lunged at the car!
That gave John a sick feeling in his stomach.
He saw the figure start to walk down the highway in John's direction.
John started swearing, as the figure got closer.
It was one of those dead bastards!
Soon the highway fence that separated the North and South lanes from each other obscured the shambling figure.
John looked around for any type of opening that he could drive his truck through but even the shoulder was jammed with cars.
Looking back at the figure John still couldn’t see it but his heart almost stopped when he did see 3 more figures come out onto the highway from beneath the trees. Sticking his head out the truck door's window and looking back he swore out loud when he saw dozens more crossing onto the highway behind him too.
"Shit fuck! Fuck and shit! Now what the fuck do I do?" he yelled out.
The first Zombie he had seen was visible again.
It was maybe 100 feet away and trying to climb over the small fence separating the North and South lanes.
3 cars sped wildly up the southbound side, horns blaring the occupants pointing at the Dead and screaming. One car swerved too hard and flipped over on its side right below John's view. Several of the Dead quickly surrounded it and began actually attacking the car to get to the people inside. And after they broke through the windows they succeeded. John could see the driver fighting madly against the Dead. If they were human he might have been successful. His well-placed blows would have stunned or injured a normal man. These Dead took the blows and bit and gouged at the hands that hit them in return. Soon one of the driver’s arms was just ripped off him and two of the Dead feasted on it as he screamed.
When all “activity” within the car stopped the dead moved away.
John vomited all over himself when he saw that the last of the Dead to walk away from the car wreck was the driver himself. His arm was missing and his eyes were black and dead.
People on the northbound side started getting out of their cars to flee on foot.
John almost did that himself but being so high in his Truck cab and being at the very top of the rise in the road gave him a unique perspective.
He could see, maybe 1 mile in front of him on the his side of the highway now, a literal flood of shambling creatures flowing out from the trees onto the highway.
Looking out his rear view mirror he thought he saw the same thing happening behind him.
He put his head down on the steering wheel and prayed to God for help.
His answer was a sound from above and behind him.
It was a helicopter!
Hope flooded in his heart.
John looked up expecting to see salvation but instead he saw that the helicopter itself needed help. High above was a large military transport helicopter but it was smoking and careening out of control. Small human figures were jumping out the doors in the sides and falling to their deaths. One body actually crashed down onto a car's rooftop just 20 feet away. She landed on her back but John could see that she had her throat ripped open and part of her face was gone.
And right before John's eyes the ‘copter pitched to the side and nose-dived right in to the highway maybe 3 miles in front of him.
His hope died.
Dead were swarming all over the cars and trucks below him, killing, biting and maiming as they went adding the newly Dead to their ranks.
Soon John was like an island in a sea of insanity and mayhem.
Those poor bastards that tried to run away on foot were just torn apart.
Many people just locked their doors and stayed huddled inside thinking that they were safe.
They weren’t.
John saw the Dead smashing windshields with their bare hands sometimes even to the point of shattering their whole arms in a spray of bone and blood.
When the first Dead climbed up the front of his rig began pounding on his windshield though, John knew his time was at hand and reached in to the glove compartment and pulled out his handgun.
He bought it 12 years ago to keep himself safe and outside of the local shooting range he never had to use it.
When his cab went dark from the Dead that blocked most the sunlight light with their torn bodies as they beat on the glass trying to get in to him, John put the gun to his head.
When the passenger side window shattered inwards before the relentless pounding of the Dead, John shut his eyes and pulled the trigger.
- THE END -