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First Page Friday: Still Rolling
Jul. 2nd, 2010 02:51 pmThis is from "Still Rolling," my story which has been accepted in the Zombiality anthology. It's kind of a sequel to "Rewriting Old Songs" from the Sappho's Chest Toybox. But you don't have to read that toenjoy this.
Get on up here and shut that door fast! Yeah, you just sit there and breathe a minute, mister, and I'll get us the hell outta here. Damn lucky I saw you and luckier that I could stop in time. Another minute and they'da had you.
Nah, I wouldn't ever leave anyone to get eaten by those things but still, you better say a thank-you prayer to God, Loki, St. Jude, Coyote, Hermes and St. Christopher, and mean it. And check your pants. Not too many folk stay clean and dry in a zombie attack.
Welcome aboard my girl. Yeah, she's pretty. I bought her because you just don't come by purple Kenworths too often. I added the flowers on the side of the sleeper myself. Shoulda seen her before all this got going. She was a lot prettier before the Change, but we're all looking a little battered these days. The cow-catcher kinda ruins her lines, but gotta have it. I'm one of the last still rolling.
So how'd you end up on foot, carrying a small arsenal, out here on the back-ass side of Nowhere, Kansas, anyway? Ah, yeah. Gas is getting to be a problem. Diesel's no better, but I make that my clients' worry. They have to fill me up and load me. I usually run food from the agri-fortresses out around Wichita into the university compound up in Kansas City. UMKC sends medicine and equipment back.
So where you been, mister? Heh. A bunker? For real? Kinda had you figured for one of them weekend-warrior survivalist types what with the camo and the guns.
Okay, sugar butt, put the boom-stick down. You shoot me here and this eighteen-wheeled bitch of mine will roll just to badass you.
Think this through. If you shoot me, not only will you have a corpse behind the wheel of eighty thousand tons of steel rolling along at seventy-five, you'll have a big old hole in the driver's window. You really think you can shoot me, unbuckle my seatbelt, get my corpse out of the seat I just made a mess of and drive the lady before she crashes? That's assuming I don't kick the brake or clutch and turn off the cruise. You don't even know how to drive a rig and your fucking male pride ain't worth losing your life.
And that hole in the window? Zombies aren't smart but they can climb stairs. You're gonna wake up being digested before you knew you fell asleep.
That's better. We were getting along fine until you went macho and stupid. Didn't your mama ever tell you not to shoot the piano-player or your driver?
'Sides, it ain't like you got any ammo. Will you get that fucking shotgun out of my face? You aren't going to shoot me. If you had ammo, you'd have been shooting zombies, not running from them. Now be good or I'll put you off out here.
Brace yourself. Ah shit, I'm gonna be washing that off for a week. Stupid undead.
Get on up here and shut that door fast! Yeah, you just sit there and breathe a minute, mister, and I'll get us the hell outta here. Damn lucky I saw you and luckier that I could stop in time. Another minute and they'da had you.
Nah, I wouldn't ever leave anyone to get eaten by those things but still, you better say a thank-you prayer to God, Loki, St. Jude, Coyote, Hermes and St. Christopher, and mean it. And check your pants. Not too many folk stay clean and dry in a zombie attack.
Welcome aboard my girl. Yeah, she's pretty. I bought her because you just don't come by purple Kenworths too often. I added the flowers on the side of the sleeper myself. Shoulda seen her before all this got going. She was a lot prettier before the Change, but we're all looking a little battered these days. The cow-catcher kinda ruins her lines, but gotta have it. I'm one of the last still rolling.
So how'd you end up on foot, carrying a small arsenal, out here on the back-ass side of Nowhere, Kansas, anyway? Ah, yeah. Gas is getting to be a problem. Diesel's no better, but I make that my clients' worry. They have to fill me up and load me. I usually run food from the agri-fortresses out around Wichita into the university compound up in Kansas City. UMKC sends medicine and equipment back.
So where you been, mister? Heh. A bunker? For real? Kinda had you figured for one of them weekend-warrior survivalist types what with the camo and the guns.
Okay, sugar butt, put the boom-stick down. You shoot me here and this eighteen-wheeled bitch of mine will roll just to badass you.
Think this through. If you shoot me, not only will you have a corpse behind the wheel of eighty thousand tons of steel rolling along at seventy-five, you'll have a big old hole in the driver's window. You really think you can shoot me, unbuckle my seatbelt, get my corpse out of the seat I just made a mess of and drive the lady before she crashes? That's assuming I don't kick the brake or clutch and turn off the cruise. You don't even know how to drive a rig and your fucking male pride ain't worth losing your life.
And that hole in the window? Zombies aren't smart but they can climb stairs. You're gonna wake up being digested before you knew you fell asleep.
That's better. We were getting along fine until you went macho and stupid. Didn't your mama ever tell you not to shoot the piano-player or your driver?
'Sides, it ain't like you got any ammo. Will you get that fucking shotgun out of my face? You aren't going to shoot me. If you had ammo, you'd have been shooting zombies, not running from them. Now be good or I'll put you off out here.
Brace yourself. Ah shit, I'm gonna be washing that off for a week. Stupid undead.
