Crazy trip
Funny how things work out: No sooner had we gotten to the fuel station operated by the aforementioned jackass than Sandie sighted the dead showing up in force, back the way we came and blocking our return to the interstate. We had just swiped a credit card to fuel one of the vans when he charged out and began blasting at the mess of zombies, too far away to matter but too scared to care. It's just as well we couldn't really make out faces at that distance, since I have no doubt we'd have seen some of the folks who'd holed up in the Starbucks.
He came to his senses after a few shots. "Stop that pump and wait a minute." He ran inside and turned on all the pumps, came back out and said "just fill 'em. At least you'll get away." One of our fellow travelers, a father of two about my age, offered him a spot in the back of his van in exchange for stocking us up with water and staying ready with the shotgun. We tossed a half-dozen cases in each car, finished fueling and took off at speed, using the full width of the street.
Sandie did me one better on breaking through the crowd; rather than the risky head-on maneuver I'd pulled in town, she ran with what we now know ooka was recommending and started sideswiping the zombies, clearing them out at the corners with a sort of serpentine motion that made Alice none too happy.
Back on the freeway, we got up to about 100 and headed for less-populated parts. Glenwood Springs and Grand Junction caused major slowdowns; clearly here people had abandoned their vehicles and gone for cover, but the zombies had overtaken them. With the store owner and plenty of shells in the van on point, we made it through, but the stench and the half-decapitated zombies all around us took a toll. I think Sandie's only driving now because it'll get her further from the horror; me, I'm just praying we'll see something like a normal world again someday.
We'll be crossing the Utah border soon, and I don't think we'll have a cell signal for more than voice calls after that. I'm just happy one of the guys we're carrying has a phone; I've still got to try to call back home, try to figure out if any of our loved ones is left. And I have no idea what future we're heading to, hiding out in the desert...
He came to his senses after a few shots. "Stop that pump and wait a minute." He ran inside and turned on all the pumps, came back out and said "just fill 'em. At least you'll get away." One of our fellow travelers, a father of two about my age, offered him a spot in the back of his van in exchange for stocking us up with water and staying ready with the shotgun. We tossed a half-dozen cases in each car, finished fueling and took off at speed, using the full width of the street.
Sandie did me one better on breaking through the crowd; rather than the risky head-on maneuver I'd pulled in town, she ran with what we now know ooka was recommending and started sideswiping the zombies, clearing them out at the corners with a sort of serpentine motion that made Alice none too happy.
Back on the freeway, we got up to about 100 and headed for less-populated parts. Glenwood Springs and Grand Junction caused major slowdowns; clearly here people had abandoned their vehicles and gone for cover, but the zombies had overtaken them. With the store owner and plenty of shells in the van on point, we made it through, but the stench and the half-decapitated zombies all around us took a toll. I think Sandie's only driving now because it'll get her further from the horror; me, I'm just praying we'll see something like a normal world again someday.
We'll be crossing the Utah border soon, and I don't think we'll have a cell signal for more than voice calls after that. I'm just happy one of the guys we're carrying has a phone; I've still got to try to call back home, try to figure out if any of our loved ones is left. And I have no idea what future we're heading to, hiding out in the desert...