Dead Sprint

by William Walsh

lip. Noticing I was coming the gunner turned and blew out the smoke from his cigarette. His dark eyebrows narrowed at me from under his cap. I had no idea what I did that was that bad but these two just didn’t like me. We got to the hummer and everyone grabbed their rifles.

  “Alright, he’s all finished up. Kim come with me we need to turn in those explosives. Cooper, Hardman, you think you can handle taking this gentleman home without incident?”

  A maniacal smile was passed between the two.

  “Yea Sarge. No problem. So long as he don’t say nothing.”

  “Fine then. Let’s go Kim.”

  Kim retrieved the dynamite and walked over. As she passed she flashed me a metallic smile.

  “Stay out of trouble,” she said. It was painful and sweet at the same time.

  “Ok sir, have a good night. I hope this is the last time we see you like this.”

  I shook the sergeant’s hand again and he walked back to the building. The gunner flicked his cigarette away and the driver spit a large amount of brown liquid on the ground.

  “Well, get in,” the gunner told me with a harsh tone.

  I got in and shut the heavy door. The engine came to life and we made our way back out the gate.

  “Give me your gun.”

  “What?”

  “I said give me that gun. I didn’t stutter motherfucker. I don’t feel comfortable with a guy who’s carrying in the back seat. Now give me the gun.”

  I wanted to point out how his sergeant had told me I could keep it but I’m sure that wouldn’t have gotten me far. I was stuck. I handed him the pistol.

  “Yo, Hardman, take the shortcut.”

  Something about that didn’t sound right. They didn’t even know where I lived. I kept my guard up and ready to jump out if need be. They slowly drove through the streets. This close to the compound the dead population was considerably thinner than further uptown. The gunner sat and smoked cigarettes and explained everything he planned on doing to Kim once she realized what a man he was. The driver laughed at some of the more grotesque ideas, stopping occasionally to spit nasty brown liquid into an empty Gatorade bottle. I just listened to the verbal debauchery with my mouth shut, sure that anything I said would be shot down. A little further from the compound they picked up speed. They began ramming the occasional zombie that was in the road. They both howled excitedly as the heavy duty vehicle crushed and splattered the puss bags under its considerable power and weight. Any other time I would be cheering at a scene like this. However, now I was too worried about the plans that they had for me to enjoy it. This was definitely not the way to Hinzman Street. With street lights a long dead industry, it was hard to see street signs or make out where we were.

  “So tell me, where the fuck did you get all that dynamite?”

  “I made it.”

  “Bullshit. You can’t fucking make dynamite. Where the hell are you going to make it? In your apartment? Stop bullshitting and tell me where you got it.”

  “Seriously I make it myself. I know chemistry. I can do it.”

  He turned around and looked me in the eye presumably searching for a sign that I was lying. After a few seconds of severely awkward eye contact he turned away.

  “Go to the spot,” he ordered.

  The driver gave a psychotic smile and then continued driving. He picked up speed to a decent cruise. The tension multiplied with every second. I knew trouble was coming quick. By now we were driving in the complete opposite direction of where I lived. In the darkness outside I could see random staggering forms sluggishly moving about. I took comfort in the safety of the heavily armored vehicle but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to last. We drove for another few minutes until we reached a desolate part of town. The driver took a turn and we were going up a steep hill. The dead tended to avoid places that were far uphill. Too much work for their rotting leg muscles. After making our way up a winding hill, the Hummer came to a stop in a parking lot of some abandoned building with overgrown weeds in and out of every doorway and window. The driver killed the engine and got out, so did the gunner. He came over and opened my door.

  “Step out.”

  I did, with my internal danger sensors screaming. I stood square with the two ready to defend myself if need be. The looks in both of their eyes said violence. The driver looked at me with an empty yet maniacal stare. The gunner stared with harmful intent, his dark eyebrows still stuck in the position that said anger. A cigarette hung from his tight lipped mouth. He then pulled his pistol from its holster and pointed it at my face.

  “Now tell me where the fuck you got the dynamite or your ass is worm food.”

  Immediately I put my hands up, but didn’t respond.

  “You deaf shit for brains? I asked you a question. Open your mouth and say something or I will pistol whip your bitch ass from here to the compound.”

  The driver’s maniacal smile got wider before he spit brown liquid down hitting my sneaker. I paused for a moment then gave the same answer as before. The gunner told me to turn and walk the other way towards the building. Having no choice I did so with my hands still up. After a few yards I felt a boot land heavy on my lower back sending me down.

  “Stay the fuck down.”

  The barrel of pistol was pressed hard into my temple.

  “You know the fucking trouble you cause me asshole? Out here playing with your little fucking bombs all night. Always at the same time during my shift. I could be perfectly happy at the compound playing cards and drinking and you cause a fucking ruckus. Now I don’t give a shit about you or what the fuck you’re doing. Go apeshit and blow them all up for all I care. I don’t give a fuck but every time I get nice and cozy I have to get up and wander the streets like an idiot because you’re out here fooling around. Now I’m going to make sure you stop…”

  He was cut off by an electronic sounding voice coming from the Hummer’s radio which I could tell was the sergeant. The pressure on the side of my head was released.

  “Our chat isn’t over.”

  I heard a flicking noise and then suddenly I felt burning pain on my neck from where his cigarette had hit me. Immediately I swatted it to the ground. The orange tip shined near my kneecap. Suddenly then, staring at the glowing amber I was struck with an idea. I turned my head slightly to see what was happening behind me. The gunner was pulling the wires attached to a radio inside the Hummer. The driver simply stared at me with his psychotic eyes. Knowing that I had only seconds to act I feigned illness and hunched over pretending to heave. The driver gave a slight chuckle to it. Slowly I pulled one of the last remaining sticks of dynamite from my pocket and placed the fuse to the end of the cigarette. I heaved louder trying to conceal the sound of the spark and then got to me knees. In a desperate lunge I turned and place the lit dynamite in the cargo pocket of the driver. His eyes widened as he struggled to remove it. I jumped up and ran as fast as I could placing my fingers in my ears. I dove behind an abandoned car. Within a second, I heard the muffled explosion through my fingers. I shook it off and then was up. I could see the gunner coming to. The dead would be arriving shortly. Though we were uphill that was way too loud for them to avoid. I knew my best bet was to make it to the hummer and get the hell out of dodge.

  “Where are you, you piece of shit?” I heard belted.

  I heard the distinct metallic clicking of a weapon being loaded. To my far left what must have been a possum or raccoon passed quickly in the darkness and was met with a hail of gunfire.

  “Come out! Come out! Got plenty of ammo!”

  A twig snapped in the tree line as dark human form emerged. Immediately it was gunned down by the soldier’s rifle.

  “Nice move with the bomb. I dare you to try that shit with me!”

  More gunfire rattled off as the soldier took down the dead that were massing at our location. I leaned against the car and tried not to make any noise. I pulled one of my small flash bombs and lit it with my lucky Zippo. I tossed it wit
h all my might hoping he wouldn’t see the spark in the air. In a second I heard the loud pop. By the time the gunfire stopped I had ran closer and took cover behind another car. I heard metal hit the ground as he dropped the empty magazine.

  “You’re just all full of surprises ain’t you?” he yelled as he loaded a fresh clip.

  “That’s alright. You ain’t making it back home on foot. I was just going to put a bullet in your brain nice and easy but you had to make this personal.”

  I checked my pocket. I only had one stick of dynamite and one flash bomb. I had to use them wisely. I considered lighting the dynamite and tossing it at him but that was too risky. He could easily kick it away. I carefully peeked around the car and came up with an idea. I pulled the flash bomb and then lit it. Peeking my head over I tossed is as close as I could to the far tree line where the first zombie emerged. I didn’t move this time. I just hunkered down and stayed quiet.

  “This is getting FUCKING OLD!”

  I could hear them now. More and more dead were massing. That was their nature, go for the last thing they heard. Broken twigs and ruffled leaves got louder and louder from that spot. They were close. My heart beat like a drum. Sweat covered me like basted food. I waited patiently for my chance, my only chance to survive. I heard a frustrated groan come from the soldier as he fired at the forms in the tree line. I knew he meant those bullets for me. I squatted ready to move after I