More genres to come!
Everyone, but Brad, got back on the bus. “What about the Mini-gun?” called Brad. “How high can you pick it up?” I asked. Brad then picked it up. “Perfect. Put it in the back door.” Brad’s eyes lit up. I could tell by the way he looked at me, he knew. He knew my plan. Brad put the mini-gun in the back door then hopped in, then mounted the gun. I smiled. I now had faith in all of us. We could make it out of this random happening alive. I started the bus and headed south. 395 was a lonely, but heavily populated stretch of highway on the way to Bishop. Normally, there are cars everywhere, but today.....today was just depressing. As we came o the Mammoth turn-off, I noticed the Fuel gauge. 1/4 of a tank. “Listen everyone, I’m going to have to stop in Mammoth for some gas. I need cover.” Brad stood up. “I’m on it.” we pulled into the Shell station and stopped, I looked around, zombies everywhere. “Guys, this could take up to half an hour. Can you handle it?” While I was trying to get out I accidentally hit the horn, catching the attention of the zombies. “Oh shi-”
"This extract remains the exclusive property of the author who retains all copyright and other intellectual property rights in the work. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced or used by any person or entity for any purpose without the author's express permission and authority."
Please rate and comment on this work