“Hey, Tallahassee, pull over for a minute!”
Next to me, the big man behind the wheel grunted, not looking over at me. “What?” he asked sourly, not taking his foot off of the accelerator.
“Seriously, come on. See that building?” I pointed out through the windshield, still grimy from an old splatter of blood that I hadn’t managed to fully scrape off at our last gas station. “Head over to that.”
For a minute, I thought that Tallahassee wouldn’t bother, that he’d just keep driving. After all, we’d set our destination as Dayton (“That big race track has just GOTTA have Twinkies!”, he’d exclaimed), and we had a few more hours of driving to go. The sun was already starting to sink towards the horizon.
Rule #9: Avoid driving after dark. Zombies don’t look both ways. Continue reading