Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Rich Restucci Read Free Book Online Page A

but inky blackness. “Cover,” Rick whispered.
    Dallas moved to the broken door and pulled it open while Rick went on one knee in a firing stance. Dallas kept the door open and Rick stood and walked through. Dallas stepped in after, shotgun at the ready. There was a wooden rack full of keys, and at the very top was one marked “Display.” Dallas grabbed the keys, and they had “Hummer” engraved on a metal tag. “Looks like this is--” he started to say, and immediately three zombies lurched out of two different doors down the hall, shambling straight toward the living men. They began to moan, as they staggered toward the humans. Rick brought his rifle to his shoulder in a firing position, but Dallas put his hand on the rifle barrel and pushed down a little.  
    “Let’s take this outside, Bubba.”
    Rick nodded and they backed out the door with the undead following from about fifteen feet. “Cover me, OK?” Dallas said. Rick nodded again. Dallas moved forward, quickly for someone so big, and used his shotgun butt to fell the first undead. The other two kept coming, and he did the same to both. They each started to get up again, so Dallas handed the shotty to Rick and brought out his rebar. It was over in less than thirty seconds, and Dallas wiped his dripping rebar on the shirt of one of the twice-dead creatures. They walked back to the garbage truck discussing their plan.  
    “Well, at least we’ll be more comfortable in that huge yellow tank,” Rick said, indicating the Hummer with a nod. 
    “Yeah, about that,” Dallas started, “I’m kinda partial to my garbage truck. It’s high off the ground, and I’m pretty sure I could plow through most crowds of them folks,” Dallas pointed to the gate, where eleven undead had congregated. “Think I might just keep her for a bit.” 
    “Ok, I’ll take Chris and Sam with me in the Hummer, and you can follow,” Rick said. 
    “Or, you could gimme that radio, and I could plow the way for you, with you givin’ me directions while we drive.”
    “Good idea,” Rick agreed. “The final destination is Alcatraz, via the ship yard at the end of 3 rd street. If we get separated, meet us there.” 
    “Now that’s a good idea,” Dallas told him, “you got a boat? 
    “Working on it.”
    “Wow, stealin’ a Hummer and a boat in the same day? Gonna have to take this up with your superiors.” 
    “Hopefully we’ll be doing some time together on The Rock, you and me,” Rick laughed. 
    “And I always said Hell would freeze over before I did anything dumb enough to go to prison.”
    Chris stuck his head out the window, “Anytime fellas, look at that,” he pointed toward a huge crowd coming toward them from the south. “Can we go now?” 
    “Chris, you and Sam are coming with me in the Hummer, help Sam out and grab the bags.” 
    Rick hopped up into the Hummer’s driver side and started the engine. The vehicle had a quarter of a tank of gas, plenty to get the three miles to his dad’s house and the few miles to the shipyard after that. He backed it off the display ramp, and pulled up alongside the garbage truck. “Let’s go,” he told Sam and Chris. 
    “What about Mr. Dallas?” asked Sam.
    “He’s going to use the garbage truck to help us get through.” 
    Once everybody was in and buckled up, Rick called Dallas on the radio. “Let’s move, take a right and head north.” 
    Dallas didn’t respond, but the garbage truck moved forward. The gate was just starting to sag from the combined weight of sixteen undead. The larger crowd was lumbering toward them, two hundred feet away. Dallas hit the gate at about five miles per hour, and bent it outward, knocking the undead to the ground. He put it in second gear, and the truck jerked forward. He ran over six prone forms, their bodies breaking like twigs under the frame of the big truck. Rick followed closely behind. They sped down the road, with undead coming at them from every direction.