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Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s Story #205 Attacked On The Road Going North Above Warm Beach, WA #TEOTWAWKI #SHTF #WROL

March 28, 2018

Quicker than I can believe Honey climbs over me and out the passenger side window. Leaning with her legs resting in my lap she shoots with her left-handed with her right hand holding on to the roof rack.

Shooting the infected man grasping Dolcent’s hair in the face four times with her S&W 2214 causes him to release his grip on her hair. Suddenly released Dolcent whimpers and curls up on the bench seat rubbing her scalp.

A shower of black blood and small bits of dark bone shower the other three infected men in the bed of the truck standing on top of our gear. Sitting in the open passenger window Honey tucks her little 2214 in the middle of her back.

“Ruth I need something bigger for these assholes,” she shouts waving her open hand in front of my face.

Pulling my Hi Power pistol I quickly swap magazines chambering a round from the new magazine.

“Take my pistol,” I tell Honey slapping the pistol butt into her hand. The suppressor on my pistol barks nine times in rapid succession sounding almost as if Honey used a machine pistol.

Whipping her legs from the cab Honey swings her body fully out of the door. Hanging from the roof rack by her right arm, she flips herself into the bed of the truck. Landing on the auxiliary fuel tank and truck bed tool box Honey surveys the gruesome scene.

“Damn that girl is strong and fast,” Shack says watching Honey in the rear view mirror.

Grabbing the Czech machine gun off of the dash I turn to see if Honey needs help. Honey tucks my pistol into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. A few steps and Honey realizes that my pistol tucked in the waist of her jeans makes her movements awkward.

Honey walks back to the cab balancing on the edges of the truck bed rail. Leaning through the open beer window over Dolcent who is still rubbing her scalp. Offering the Browning Hi Power pistol butt first Honey hands my pistol back.

“Here’s your pistol back Ruth. What the fuck did you load it with? I practically beheaded the second asshole, I shot him in the mouth blowing everything off above his jaw. I followed the mouth shot with two rounds to the chest, blowing a basketball sized hole through him. The third asshole, I put a round in his face just under his nose and one round in his chest and another to the bottom of his sternum. The round to the face removed everything from his ears back. The rounds to the chest blew out his ribs, lungs, heart and most of his spine.”

Shack drives over a rough patch of roadway Honey still kneeling in the widow places a hand on top of the cab for balance. After the truck stops bouncing Honey continues talking.

“It’s a fucking mess back here,” Honey says. “We got brains, bone chips and shit literally all over the place. Let’s hope it rains hard enough to wash this shit off.”

Looking in the passenger rear view mirror, I see only three corpses. The first Honey killed with her 2214 and the other two Honey killed using my pistol.

“Wasn’t there another guy,” I ask Honey.

“Yeah the fourth shit bird jumped off while I killed his buddies. Before his ass hit the road I put a round in the back of his head and two rounds in his back one right between the shoulder blades and one through his hips at the base of his spine. Nearly chopped the jumping fucker in half. Ruth again, what the fuck did you put in that gun?”

“You’re lucky that fourth asshole jumped to the passenger side had he been smarter and jumped towards the driver’s side you might not have gotten him,” Shack mentions.

Honey snorts at Shack’s suggestion.

After swapping pistol magazines ensuring that my pistol is in condition one I holster it on my IOTV in the center of my chest. Turning around so that I can look at Honey, I answer her question.

“Russian explosive 9mm ammo,” I tell her showing her the Hi Power magazine with the distinctive white-tipped rounds. I set the partially emptied magazine with its deadly rounds on the seat. I need to get to the Russian ammo in the truck bed in order to top the magazine off.

“Well, fuck me that shit’s messy Ruth,” Honey says. “I’m gonna clean up back here a little and then come back in.”

“Honey who taught you to shoot failure drills,” I ask.

“Oh, you mean the Mozambique drill that would be your ever-loving Shack,” Honey says.

“You know Mozambique drill is not exactly PC,” I caution her.

“Ruth we’re in a fucking zombie apocalypse who’s gonna care if we’re not PC,” Honey replies waving her arms around.

With that Honey moves to the body of the first infected man she killed with her S&W 2214. Rummaging through the dead man’s pockets Honey finds a few knives and some folded sticky pornographic magazine pages.

“Yuck sick fuck,” Honey mutters tossing the magazine pages into the tent’s wood stove burn box. The knives get tossed into the bed of the truck we will deal with them later.

Finding nothing else of interest on the first man she casually picks the dripping corpse up tossing it off the truck. Honey times her toss perfectly slamming the corpse face first through the windshield of an abandoned compact car.

Passing the car with a dead infected man as a hood ornament we watch two zombies trapped in it grab for the glass shard decorated corpse.

After observing Honey’s display of raw strength Shack looks at me, his eyebrows heading for his bangs. I agree with Shack’s silent thoughts I did not realize just how strong Honey is.

The corpse of the second infected man lies in the middle of the truck bed. Reaching the body Honey bends down and efficiently searches the corpse. Her initial search reveals a pair of brass knuckles covered in green verdigris and a pocket knife.

Honey turns looking at the truck cab. “You know what’s odd Ruth,” she asks.

“What is,” I ask.

“No zombie apocalypse homemade weapons,” Honey replies.

Further searching the corpse Honey mutters, “What the hell is this?”

“What did you find,” I ask fearing for the worse.

Honey holds up a disc. “Hey look zombie apocalypse audio book on CD,” she says.

“Just the fuck we need,” Shack mutters. “You know when I played zombie apocalypse addicting games I never thought that I would be in one.”

Honey flings the useless zombie apocalypse audio book CD into the bushes.

Reaching the last dead man on the truck Honey kneels beside him. The body straddles the tailgate with its arms and shoulders hanging over it towards the ground. Honey grabs one of the dead man’s legs and yanks his whole body into the truck.

The corpse comes up accompanied by another infected male who had been lying behind the tailgate. With an arm the infected man swipes Honey’s feet out from underneath her. Landing on her ass Honey tries to whip out her little S&W 2214. Before Honey can get her weapon free an eye piercing bright flash of light and an ungodly painful explosion engulfs everyone inside the truck cab.

Gun smoke drifts around the cab quickly sucked outside through the open windows. Thank god the windows were open if they were closed that would have been so much worse.

The dead infected man crumples on his face at Honey’s feet a large slightly left of center hole in his forehead. A new dripping splatter of black blood, dark bone chips and pink bits of brain decorate the last third of the truck bed and the tailgate.

Not sure that I want to see what the .40 caliber jacketed hollow point did to the back of the infected man’s head. Judging from the grisly splash of gore embellishing the rear of the truck there cannot be much left of the dead man’s head.

Dolcent sitting on her knees leaning over the back of the rear bench seat holds her smoking Hi Point .40 S&W caliber carbine. Watching her shake her head I realize that Dolcent is probably suffering the same ringing in the ears as I am.

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