Ok, I can picture the scene where you've left it, and we've still got issues with all this screaming, all the blood we have... there must be more people or zombies around, right?
Hmm... I overran a bit, sorry. But I think I left you in a place to take decisions :)
Mine Which was a good thing as it turned out; as we shuffled on to the gravel put down to stop the cars getting bogged down when it rained we both saw a group of people standing near the cars at the far end of the lot. "We're in the middle of the lot," he said, nodding his head towards the white car he'd insisted on calling Betty. I still hadn't teased the reason for that out of him but he seemed to enjoy saying things like "Well, let's load up Betty and see if she can cope" in the middle of shops. "I know," I said, controlling myself so I didn't gasp. This woman, because I refused to believe she was dead, was heavier than I'd expected. "Well done, Captain Obvious." "And they're coming towards us," he said. I looked, and he was right. They weren't moving fast but I didn't want to think they might be shambling. "So... at a guess, we're going to get the car at the same time." "They can help us put her in the car then," I said, sounding as determined as I felt. "They can't all be zombies." "Zombies?" He looked at me now, and I noticed that he looked really worried. "Well... Blondie did seem to be trying to eat this poor woman," I said, wondering why I'd decided they were zombies already. "That's some serious mental illness; I'd say she at least thinks she's a zombie." "Yeah, but--" He shut up abruptly and looked away, and I could see he was thinking. "No, zombies aren't real. That's ridiculous. This isn't Sean of the Dead either." "Either way," I said, "we still need to get to the car and get out of here before we catch whatever is causing this. It must be in the air, or maybe the ground?" "Water," he said, but he sounded apprehensive. "The river overflowed, remember? Maybe the water was contaminated. You know, they're speeding up." "Then we have to too!" I couldn't avoid gasping there; the woman was heavy and it felt like she was slipping from my hands. We tried to speed up but we were both almost staggering at that point, and the people on the other side of Betty were definitely moving faster than us. A few more steps, and he looked at me. "Drop her," he said, and I started to object. "Drop her, we run for the car and drive it back here and put her in. That gets us a lot more space between us and them. We might be able to do it." "No-o--o-o... ok. You're right." I hated saying that but what he said made sense. "We'll be right back," I whispered as I set her down, ignoring that he just let go and started running. Then I ran after him.
The other people started a kind of shuffling half-run once they saw we were running and that scared me more than anything else so far. If they weren't zombies they were acting just like I thought zombies would, and that was terrifying. We reached Betty easily ahead of them; he unlocked the doors from a few metres away with the key fob and the clunk of the locks was the most satisfying sound I'd heard in a while. We piled on in, locking the doors quickly, and the screaming started up again as he put the key in the lock. "Drive," I said. "We can still get her." The car sprang to life on the first turn on the key, but then one of the shambling people came out of nowhere and flung themselves on the engine hood. He jumped and his foot hit the pedal and car lurched backwards. The shambler clawed at the windscreen, failed to grab hold, and slid off the car. The car slowed and he checked the mirror -- ever the careful driver -- and turned the wheel. Then another shambler launched themselves at us and just missed grabbing hold of the car. "Hold on," he said, and we reversed towards the poor woman we were trying to rescue. The shamblers sped-up a little more and I felt a sense of dread - I didn't think she was far enough away for us to have time to pick her up now.
When the car bounced over her and we carried on driving out of the parking lot I realised that he'd had the same thoughts.
Greg - yes, well, that's your favorite place to leave me, I'm quite sure...
Well done, by the way. That ending caught me off guard but was absolutely the right call on their part.
Mine:
We drove in tense silence for several minutes, each of us alone with our thoughts though we were sitting close enough for our elbows to nearly touch. It felt like my brain was underwater or caked with mud. Thoughts struggled to form clearly and didn't stay long enough to be examined properly.
His fingers drumming against the steering wheel was the only thing to disturb the silence until neither of us could stand it any longer.
"We had to leave her," he declared, just as I said, "She was probably already dead anyway."
"What?" he asked, darting a look at me before returning his attention to the narrow road winding through the trees. He slowed the car a little and I realized that he'd been speeding.
"We weren't going to save her," I said, scratching the dry skin on the back of my left hand. "The nearest hospital is, what, five hours away? We were risking ourselves for nothing. You made the right call."
"I guess," he said, obviously not thrilled with the concession. "But, I mean, what the hell was going on back there? And why aren't we affected by it? Bad batch of drugs?"
Remembering how Blondie had felt in my grip I shuddered and offered no answers. Exhaustion came over me like a wave and I slumped in my seat. I needed a shower and clean clothes. And coffee. Lots of coffee. Then maybe my brain would start working again.
"I don't know how long I can drive for," he said. Clearly the adrenaline was abandoning him as well. "I'm going to stop for a break next chance I get. Then we can make some decisions."
But the road was too narrow and the trees too close together to stop safely. Finally we spotted a sign for the visitor center parking lot for the Joseph Lougheed Dam, five kilometers ahead. I could barely remember passing it on the way in.
"Five more clicks? I can manage that." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. I nodded, too tired to speak. I wasn't sure a nap in the car was going to do much good but there was no use in arguing.
As it turned out, no argument was required. Any thoughts of sleep, or even resting, were washed away by the sight of the burning wreckage of the dam's visitor center.
3 comments:
Ok, I can picture the scene where you've left it, and we've still got issues with all this screaming, all the blood we have... there must be more people or zombies around, right?
Hmm... I overran a bit, sorry. But I think I left you in a place to take decisions :)
Mine
Which was a good thing as it turned out; as we shuffled on to the gravel put down to stop the cars getting bogged down when it rained we both saw a group of people standing near the cars at the far end of the lot.
"We're in the middle of the lot," he said, nodding his head towards the white car he'd insisted on calling Betty. I still hadn't teased the reason for that out of him but he seemed to enjoy saying things like "Well, let's load up Betty and see if she can cope" in the middle of shops.
"I know," I said, controlling myself so I didn't gasp. This woman, because I refused to believe she was dead, was heavier than I'd expected. "Well done, Captain Obvious."
"And they're coming towards us," he said. I looked, and he was right. They weren't moving fast but I didn't want to think they might be shambling. "So... at a guess, we're going to get the car at the same time."
"They can help us put her in the car then," I said, sounding as determined as I felt. "They can't all be zombies."
"Zombies?" He looked at me now, and I noticed that he looked really worried.
"Well... Blondie did seem to be trying to eat this poor woman," I said, wondering why I'd decided they were zombies already. "That's some serious mental illness; I'd say she at least thinks she's a zombie."
"Yeah, but--" He shut up abruptly and looked away, and I could see he was thinking. "No, zombies aren't real. That's ridiculous. This isn't Sean of the Dead either."
"Either way," I said, "we still need to get to the car and get out of here before we catch whatever is causing this. It must be in the air, or maybe the ground?"
"Water," he said, but he sounded apprehensive. "The river overflowed, remember? Maybe the water was contaminated. You know, they're speeding up."
"Then we have to too!" I couldn't avoid gasping there; the woman was heavy and it felt like she was slipping from my hands.
We tried to speed up but we were both almost staggering at that point, and the people on the other side of Betty were definitely moving faster than us. A few more steps, and he looked at me.
"Drop her," he said, and I started to object. "Drop her, we run for the car and drive it back here and put her in. That gets us a lot more space between us and them. We might be able to do it."
"No-o--o-o... ok. You're right." I hated saying that but what he said made sense. "We'll be right back," I whispered as I set her down, ignoring that he just let go and started running. Then I ran after him.
The other people started a kind of shuffling half-run once they saw we were running and that scared me more than anything else so far. If they weren't zombies they were acting just like I thought zombies would, and that was terrifying. We reached Betty easily ahead of them; he unlocked the doors from a few metres away with the key fob and the clunk of the locks was the most satisfying sound I'd heard in a while. We piled on in, locking the doors quickly, and the screaming started up again as he put the key in the lock.
"Drive," I said. "We can still get her."
The car sprang to life on the first turn on the key, but then one of the shambling people came out of nowhere and flung themselves on the engine hood. He jumped and his foot hit the pedal and car lurched backwards. The shambler clawed at the windscreen, failed to grab hold, and slid off the car. The car slowed and he checked the mirror -- ever the careful driver -- and turned the wheel. Then another shambler launched themselves at us and just missed grabbing hold of the car.
"Hold on," he said, and we reversed towards the poor woman we were trying to rescue. The shamblers sped-up a little more and I felt a sense of dread - I didn't think she was far enough away for us to have time to pick her up now.
When the car bounced over her and we carried on driving out of the parking lot I realised that he'd had the same thoughts.
Greg - yes, well, that's your favorite place to leave me, I'm quite sure...
Well done, by the way. That ending caught me off guard but was absolutely the right call on their part.
Mine:
We drove in tense silence for several minutes, each of us alone with our thoughts though we were sitting close enough for our elbows to nearly touch. It felt like my brain was underwater or caked with mud. Thoughts struggled to form clearly and didn't stay long enough to be examined properly.
His fingers drumming against the steering wheel was the only thing to disturb the silence until neither of us could stand it any longer.
"We had to leave her," he declared, just as I said, "She was probably already dead anyway."
"What?" he asked, darting a look at me before returning his attention to the narrow road winding through the trees. He slowed the car a little and I realized that he'd been speeding.
"We weren't going to save her," I said, scratching the dry skin on the back of my left hand. "The nearest hospital is, what, five hours away? We were risking ourselves for nothing. You made the right call."
"I guess," he said, obviously not thrilled with the concession. "But, I mean, what the hell was going on back there? And why aren't we affected by it? Bad batch of drugs?"
Remembering how Blondie had felt in my grip I shuddered and offered no answers. Exhaustion came over me like a wave and I slumped in my seat. I needed a shower and clean clothes. And coffee. Lots of coffee. Then maybe my brain would start working again.
"I don't know how long I can drive for," he said. Clearly the adrenaline was abandoning him as well. "I'm going to stop for a break next chance I get. Then we can make some decisions."
But the road was too narrow and the trees too close together to stop safely. Finally we spotted a sign for the visitor center parking lot for the Joseph Lougheed Dam, five kilometers ahead. I could barely remember passing it on the way in.
"Five more clicks? I can manage that." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. I nodded, too tired to speak. I wasn't sure a nap in the car was going to do much good but there was no use in arguing.
As it turned out, no argument was required. Any thoughts of sleep, or even resting, were washed away by the sight of the burning wreckage of the dam's visitor center.
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