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*NOTE: TRIGGER WARNING*
12:45 PM Homecoming
Question: What’s a guy to do when he pulls around the corner and sees his house surrounded by the undead?
Answer: Reload.
I told Jim to stop while I reloaded, and prepped for the following onslaught of undead, and told him to call and make sure no one was hurt, and let them know that they needed to get into the hallway and lay down on the floor.
I finished reloading our pistols and moved on to the shotguns. Finally I loaded the 5.56’s and .22’s.
I opened his passenger window and chambered the first shell into the shotgun.
(Did I mention how much I love that sound? I could make that sound all day, but there were more important things at hand instead of my auditory amusement. That isn’t to say that I wasn’t liking the idea of destroying zombies with firearms; quite the opposite. I was beginning to enjoy it… A lot - almost giggling like a giddy little pre-teen who’d seen nudity for the first time.)
I took aim and told him to go, but stop in front of the house so I could pick them off one by one. As Jim pulled up to the house, he put down his window and pulled out his pistol. We opened fire.
There were close to twenty zombies milling around my house when we started. A few fell, while others continued to try and claw their way in, and the rest started coming for us.
I was out. I grabbed my pistol and resumed firing. (Heh, the first thought that entered my head, was the quote from the movie: Space Balls: “Keep Firing Assholes!”) One by one, the closest of my targets fell, only one got close enough to do damage. But like I said, he only got close.
Jim was empty, I could hear him slap another magazine in and chamber that first round. As the slide locked into position, I could sense the glee that Jim was feeling, only due to the fact that he yelled, “Hell Yeah!”
I got out of the SUV grabbing another shotgun, and slowly walking toward the house, firing at the first undead thing that moved. Quite a few shots were fired. Jim backed me up as I continued my way to the side of the house, still firing.
My shotgun was empty. I reached for my pistol as another zombie approached. I dropped him like a bag of rocks. I heard a groaning from behind me and turned to see the zombie drop as its head gushed out its innards. That was the last one.
I nodded to Jim in approval, giving him a look of praise. I reached the side of my house where my car was parked. There was a body sprawled across the hood. That wouldn’t come clean, easily. It was the body of the man across the street. I couldn’t tell if he was a zombie or just dead. I kicked him off my hood and shot him in the head. I wasn’t going to take a chance.
I opened my car door and pushed the button on the garage door opener. Jim, in the interim, got back into his SUV and backed it into the driveway, rolling over the corpses that made up our body count. (Incidentally, Jim was ahead on the body count by three, but I kept telling him that running them over didn’t count. However, since he saved my life twice , I’d let him have them.)
Jim and I unloaded our supplies from the SUV into the garage. I went back to the front yard to collect my shotgun that I threw down during the wonderful game of bug hunt. I entered the house, and as I closed the door behind me, I said in the best Jack Nicholson impression, “Wendy? I’m Home!” (Watch Stephen King’s The Shining, you’ll get it.) |
