Well then, charging a tank. This was the inevitable result of leaving the house, where I had been safe for many months. Now that I had abandoned it, we were running into trouble the likes of which I'd never seen before.
"Hold on, kiddies!" I shouted, enjoying the insane rush of adrenaline of charging into a most likely hopeless situation. "This'll be a bumpy one!" As I shouted crazily, I grabbed my shotgun and fired twice into the soldier operating the machine gun on top of the tank. He went down, and then I slammed my foot into the gas pedal several times, yanked open my door, and bailed out. This would not be a pretty crash. Harry and Red followed suit, grabbing whatever they could and leaping out of the truck. It slammed headfirst into the tank, and seemed to give the men up top pause. I took that as my cue to sprint up to the tank, leap to the top and pry open the hatch leading inside this unstoppable machine. I spotted one man and fired into his chest, then snapped the tank driver's neck and took control.
It was only then that I stopped and considered a little tiny flaw in my plan. I had no idea how in the hell you drove one of these things. I drew my revolver and climbed back out of the tank, sprinting over to Red and Harry, who were back to back putting up a fight wth the remaining three guys. The cowards had tried to run and then come back, surrounding us from behind and cutting our throats like the thieves they most likely were. I shot one man, and he dropped to the ground, but kept fighting. I strode over to him, clubbed him in the head, and used his own combat knife to cut his throat. The last two were easily handled by Red and Harry, as they double-teamed each guy with great efficiency.
After that was over, we noticed even more people coming toward us. Harry was already on the move, though. He fired once into the crowd with the gun on the tank and they all scattered.
Too bad we can't take it with us, I thought. I picked up the knife from one of the men I had killed, and Red and Harry both picked up rifles from our other fallen attackers. We tried to salvage what we could from the truck, ending up with a trickle of gas that we could use to start fires when needed and a few rounds of ammo.
We wandered off, and over the next few days, we spent our time slowly wandering, setting fires with the gasoline at night and eating anything edible we could find around us.
The real trouble was only beginning, though.