The StrangerMature

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                                        Anthony

Groaning, I roll over and push myself off the ground.

“Ah, what the crap…?” I mutter painfully.

I look around and it’s night out, the blood and brains all over my jeans are finally dry, At least there’s one good thing, no more wet gore all over me. The dead zombie is covered in flies, Grabbing some of the bags of stuff in the car that haven’t gone bad yet I shoulder the weight and start walking down the road in the direction of the house, almost instantly my vision blurs and I stagger to the left slightly. Shaking my head to clear my vision I continue walking. I look down at the sound of the soft crunch of gravel beneath my shoes and trudge along. I make it to the stop sign and lean against it, looking up at the sign I groan in frustration, the house is like four blocks from here. The squeal of tires from down the road snaps me out of my remorse and I look up to see a big truck swerve around the wreckage of my car. I set down my load of groceries that weren’t destroyed and step out onto the side of the road, while the truck draws near I hold my hand out and extend my thumb hoping they don’t think I’m a zombie, what with my bloody ragged appearance. The truck stops next to me with the driver’s side window facing me, the windows are tinted and I can’t see in. I put my hand down and stare into the black abyss of the window. The window opens and before I can even blink a black blur whips out into my face then I’m suddenly staring into the barrel of a gun. “Whoa whoa whoa, calm down man, I’m talking, think it’s pretty obvious I’m not one of the creeps walkin around dead.” I quickly say while staring at the gun.

The gun lowers from my face and the person gestures for me to get in back of the car. I pick up my stuff and hop into the backseat, it’s empty. There’s no one else in the car except the stranger wielding the pistol.

I clear my throat and say “Um, my place is about four blocks forward, if you wouldn’t mind taking me there?”

“Fine.” The person grunts.

He rolls up the window and starts driving; we make it about two blocks before a zombie walks into the road. The man speeds up and right before I can ask if we’re going to run it over, but he veers to the left and opens the car door smacking the zombie in the face sending it flying backwards into a nearby ditch. I start laughing and the guy looks at me in the rearview mirror and I silence myself quickly.

 

The End

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