Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Rich Restucci Page B

scientist.”
    Dallas drove over three infected in the middle of the street, their bodies crunching under the wheels. The radio in the truck blared to life. “Dallas ! You gotta tell me if you’re going to be throwing bodies out from under your truck! We’re not as big as you, and there’s goo all over our windshield now!” 
    “Well shit,” Dallas intoned, “didn’t think of that.” 
    The road ahead was blocked by two military Humvees, parked nose to nose, so Dallas took a right and then a quick left. Another abandoned road block was ahead, and Dallas slowed down. This roadblock was comprised of civilian vehicles. The Hummer with his new friends started beeping furiously, and Dallas stomped on the accelerator. “Hold on!” he yelled. Earl looked scared shitless, fumbling for his seat belt, and Billy started whooping with joy. The garbage truck hit the roadblock at about 45 mph. Screeching metal and smashing glass could be heard as the truck plowed through the smaller vehicles. The cars at the roadblock spun away, one smashing into a storefront window, the other flattening two lurking infected. The heavy vehicle lumbered on. 
    “What the hell was that?” Chris demanded in a panicked voice when the truck in front of them shuddered from the impact of the collision. Pieces of the vehicles Dallas had just smashed through came spinning back toward the Hummer, and there was a big thud under the rear end as they went over something big   There was a long wail from the truck’s horn, and suddenly bits of bone and bloody pulp shot out from under Dallas’s rig. Rick was able to swerve to the left, but he still needed to use the wipers to get rid of the chunky, crimson droplets on the windshield. Rick needed the washer fluid to clean the mess off, and even then, a hunk of dark-haired scalp caught on the passenger side wiper. It looked like a big spider hanging on for dear life. 
    “Ok, ok, horn equals goo! Let’s get a little distance between us and them, but not too much,” Paul said from the back seat.  
    The horn blared in front of them again, and again a former human shot out from underneath the back of the garbage truck, tumbling in rag doll fashion. Rick could do nothing but run it over, hearing thudding and crunching noises as he did so. With less than a mile to the waterfront, the dead were getting thick. They stumbled out from behind parked or abandoned cars, alleys, and doorways. Now and then small groups of them could be seen kneeling or on all fours surrounding a grisly target. They were stuffing pieces of dripping gore into their greedy maws. Others were pounding or slapping open, bloody palms on heavy doors or hastily-boarded windows. The group knew what that meant, but at the same time they knew they could not stop to help without being overwhelmed. Some fortifications hadn’t held, and the broken doors and windows revealed gruesome occupants. 
    “There it is!” Chris blurted excitedly when he could see San Francisco bay from atop the hill they had just crested.  
    The big garbage truck hurtled down the hill, the Hummer in its wake. Dallas looked ahead with a smile as he saw an open chain link gate with the words Bayside Marine in orange letters on a white sign. He checked the rear view mirror and his smile vanished. The Hummer was a hundred yards behind him and slowing. His radio blared to life yet again. 
    “Dallas!” Chris’s voice. “Something’s wrong with the Hummer, it’s dying fast!” Dallas started a three point turn to go assist. 
    The Hummer ground to a halt. The big yellow vehicle didn’t go unnoticed by the hungry dead in this area of the city. Dozens of infected were coming from all directions. Across the street, a white cargo van with Tsang’s Produce on the side was facing back down the street with the driver’s side door open. 
    “Everybody out,” yelled Rick, “Get to the van, Dad take Sam!” Rick got out and dropped the two closest infected with single