Here we are on the edge of little Sherry. Steve parked the car on top of the last big hill that rolls down into town, pulling an E-brake slide and slamming to a stop sideways in the middle of the road. We've been here for almost fifteen minutes, Steve just loungin' in the backseat and double fisting snickers and soda pops.
I've got the hunting rifle we had stashed in the trunk out, with the bipod setup on the roof of the car. I'd already bagged half a dozen of the things, taking my time with each shot. Watching them shuffle around in the street, there were dozens of them, maybe hundreds. I take aim again and after a few seconds squeeze the trigger. The .308 round crotches my target and I giggle, just like every time.
"That's so fuckin' funny." I say under my breath. The moaner's crotch explodes in a puff of pink mist and he goes down. It's pretty meaningless in the long run and as it starts to climb back to its feet I work the bolt on my rifle and put a second round through his brain, his head bursting like a melon and the corpse goes limp.
Cockney has been doing laps around the car with a can of spray paint that she'd taken from the hardware store and after a few more seconds she straightens from the hood, shaking the can.
"All done boys." She says with a smirk.
"Fuckin' finally!" Steve shouts and sits up, climbing out of the car to inspect her work. It's bright orange paint and the words "Quake Crew" stand out sharply from one side with a skull and crossbones on the passenger side.
"What the fuck?" Steve yells when he reaches the front of the car. "You silly bitch!" Cockney breaks out in howling laughter. There's a bright orange dick on the hood, complete with hairy balls. There's an arrow pointing from the dick up to the driver seat.
"Get it?" Cockney says, barely able to breathe from the laughing. "You're the dick!"
"Now I'm gonna have to wash this shit off." Steve says shaking his head when a grin stretches suddenly across his face. "With buckets of blood! Let's get on with the show!"
I take down one more target, a guy dragging his dead dog on a leash, before folding up the bipod on the rifle and sticking it back in the trunk. Steve climbs behind the wheel and Cockney jumps in the shotgun seat again, flashing me a grin. I finger the broad and hop in the backseat again. I sit behind Steve so that we've got weaponry sticking out both sides of the car, with Cockney leaning out with her shotgun and me with the machete clenched, white knuckle, in one fist and a handgun in the other. Steve revs the engine three times before peeling off down the road.
"Everyone keep their own score!" I shout over the whipping wind as we scream down the road, Megadeth tunes ripping out of Steve's shitty stock speakers. There is a strange moment of calm where everything seems to slow down and the music fades away. Every walking corpse in the road, and they're almost shoulder to shoulder now, seems to stop and look at us. They almost look happy to see us. The wind slips its cool fingers through my hair and I'm filled with a sense of peace and almost close my eyes before Cockney's shotgun booms and takes one of the rotten corpses full in the chest. The car goes passed the first couple zombies and I take one of their heads off at the jawline, shattering teeth and skull as the blade hacks through the spinal column and tears out the back. The car smashes into a zombie and I fight for balance as it cracks against the windshield and goes toppling over the roof and is lost behind us. I take out one more zombie with my machete and pop off a couple rounds with my handgun, shouting and hollering the whole time before the Corolla's bumper smashes into the largest group of them.
"Holy fuck!" I scream and duck back inside the car, handgun still pointed out the window and just pulling the trigger as fast as I can as bodies explode around us, limbs, heads and guts spinning through the air and splashing the windshield.
Cockney loses her shotgun in the havoc and stares back after it in regret. She reaches into the backpack at her feet and pulls out a bottle of sloshing gasoline and wood varnish, fishing in her pocket she comes out with a lighter. She starts lighting bombs and just dropping them out the window. She gets out three before the car clears through the far side of the crowd. Another slick E-brake slide and we're sideways in the street again. There are corpses and body parts everywhere, some of the shamblers stumble around in flames, not making a peep or complaining one bit.
Steve flicks the wipers on and clears the blood and bits of flesh from the windshield. Peering through the muck and viscera on the cracked glass he shakes his head.
"Nope, the cock is still there, Have to keep washing it." He turns the wheel to head back through the heavily thinned mob. I point over his shoulder down a new street.
"Fresh meat." I grin. There were even more moaners in the street ahead of us. Steve smiles too and guns the car forward at a breakneck speed.
Cockney gets another molotov ready but some of the juice must have splashed on her hand because her arm goes up in a fireball.
"You stupid slut!" I scream at her and my eyes go wide as she drops the firebomb between her feet. Her arm is on fire and she's screaming, Steve is losing control of the car and it careens back and forth in the street, smashing into parked cars and zombies alike. The car goes through the glass doors of the Sherry move theater and slams to a stop halfway through the snack counter.
We all bail out of the car as Cockney's backpack full of firebombs blazes up.
"Stop drop and roll! Stop drop and roll!" I yell at her, laughing my ass off. Maybe all those fire assemblies in school were worth more than just an excuse to go get stoned behind the gym. Well, another excuse.
Cockney actually does dive to the ground and rolls back and forth like her life depended on it. Her pants are on fire too and I stomp her legs. After a few long seconds the blaze is out but her arm is burned pretty bad.
"Fuck off!" she yells at me when I try to help her up, so I do. I go help Steve salvage snickers and ammo from the burning car. I manage to get the hunting rifle and two boxes of ammo for it too.
When we're done we look over and Cockney has her shirt off and wrapped it tightly around her badly burned hand and forearm. Her camo pants have tons of holes burned into them, and she's wearing nothing up top but her bra and ammo belts.
"Hahaha, you slut!" Steve laughs at her. She's got a Glock in each hand.
"Lets make these motherfuckers pay." She says and we both agree that someone is going to have to pony up for Steve's wrecked car.