Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Rich Restucci Page A

AC/DC tee shirt and jeans was on his back near the door, but already starting to rise. Rick plugged him with the AR15, and every infected in the street outside of the theater turned his way. The group ran to their respective vehicles, except Billy, who looked undecided when between the two. The dead started to close. 
    “What the hell is he doing?” Earl demanded of Dallas. 
    “All his dogs aint barkin’!” Dallas shouted back as he helped Earl up the side of the garbage truck. He ran around the front of the truck to the other side, colliding midway with a former soldier in digital fatigues. The dead soldier grabbed the shotgun, and wouldn’t let go. Dallas released his grip, pushed the thing back, and brought up his rebar in one quick movement. He smashed the creature in the temple and it went down. He picked up the shotgun, and the soldier grabbed his pant leg as he tried to move away. Dallas fired point blank, turning the soldier’s head into a fine pink mist. Others were coming.
    Rick went to one knee and winced in pain. He started picking the closest targets, covering his group as they got to the Hummer. He dispatched a 6-year-old girl with pigtails and hideous bite wounds on her neck. He fired on a postal worker and hit her in the shoulder, the second shot entering just below her nose and putting her down for good. Rick could hear other weapons firing as well. He shot a business man complete with briefcase, and a doctor with a surgical mask. The street was filling quickly, for every one destroyed, three took its place. The horn on the Hummer sounded and Rick bolted for the door. He fired one more shot at a burned guy with a motorcycle helmet on, twice killing him. Shards of high impact plastic erupted from the back of the creature’s helmet. Rick got in the driver’s seat of the Hummer and started the engine. He looked left and saw Billy waving to Sam from the street. 
    Chris hit the window button and the window went down. “Billy! Get in the garbage truck,” he yelled. “They’re   coming!” Billy looked at the oncoming tide of dead.  
    “But I want to go with Sam,” he whined. 
    “There’s no room, you gotta go in the tru-- BEHIND YOU!” Chris screamed. 
    An undead so badly burned it was impossible to tell if it had been male or female put its hand on Billy’s shoulder. Billy shoved its hand off of him with a look of irritation. He spun and looked the creature in the face. The thing walked past him heading for the Hummer, crackling as it moved. 
    “Fine!” Billy yelled, actually stomping his foot, “But this isn’t fair, I wanted to go with Sam!” He stormed to the garbage truck and climbed aboard. The truck lurched into gear and headed east. Rick followed closely behind, a bewildered look on his face. 
    “What in Holy Blue Frigging Hell was that? Chris asked. 
    “I… I got nothing…” Rick said. 
     

 
     
    10
     
     
    “You saw that, right?” Earl asked Dallas. 
    “Yeah, twice now. It was hard to miss, and even harder to figure.” 
    “Billy, why didn’t that thing attack you?” Earl asked. 
    “Dunno,” Billy answered, brows knitted in contemplation. “You think it might be because I’m unsavory?” he asked with a hint of sadness. 
    “Huh?” Earl asked. 
    “Unsavory,” Billy replied, “means I don’t taste good, I think. I had this nurse in the hospital last year, and she said I was an unsavory character, could that be it?” 
    “Maybe,” Earl said, smiling. “I think it means she didn’t like your type or something though.” 
    “So I might taste good then?” Billy asked brightening. 
    “Uhh… I don’t really know,” Earl replied. 
    “Me neither,” Billy finished with a sigh. 
    “Billy, if we can figure out why they don’t attack you, we might be able to stop them from attackin’ all of us!” Dallas said. “Maybe even everyone everywhere!” 
    “How?” Billy asked innocently. 
    “I don’t know, kid, I ain’t a