Aberrant: Dead Rising - Let It Roll [complete]

[BlueNinja]

“Why are we taking the back roads, man?” Zee griped. For the fourth time, or was it the fifth? Adam didn’t even have to look in the rear-view mirror at Brandon for him to reach forward and smack the other man in the back of the head. “Ow! What was that for?”

Brandon shook his head. “Look, Zee, I don’t care how much pot you smoked before the zombie apocalypse rose up and ripped the nuts off of civilization. Remember this, because we’re not telling you again. The back roads don’t have zombies on it.”

“Or wrecked vehicles,” Adam added, shifting the truck down into second gear to rumble over the potholes ahead.

“Yeah, ‘zactly. No zombies, no roadblocks, just clear and open road from Spring Valley all the way to Johnny Walker’s RV Heaven.” He looked out the window at the unchanging desert landscape. “Um, how much further is it, Adam?”

Snorting, Adam glanced out the driver window towards the freeway. A few zombies milled around there, probably stragglers who managed to tear their way out of vehicles wrecked on the I-15. Still, it was doubtful that the undead would manage to get across three miles of desert in enough time to bother them. “About five more miles. Then you guys sweep the compound while I check out the RVs, and once I know which ones are in shape we’ll get the gas siphoned to drive them back.

A thumbs-up from the fourth member momentarily blocked the rear-view mirror, before Dave tipped his cowboy hat over his face and went back to napping.

Ten minutes later, the pickup and trailer pulled through the open gate. Rows of RVs and trailers sat baking in the April sunlight, covered in dust from the desert. The truck stopped, and the three men in the trailer leaped over the sides, pistols at the ready, sweeping the area as the other four exited the truck. Dave straightened his hat, then nodded. “Zee, Rich, check out the office and garage, make sure they’re clear. Brandon, climb up on that one near the gate and keep an eye on the freeway, in case they come for us. Adam, tell the rest of us where you want to start so we can sweep the area.”

Taking a quick look around, Adam pointed towards the largest RVs. “Right now, bigger is probably better. I’ll start with those dozen, I should be able to get at least half of them working.” Squinting and covering his eyes with a hand, he pointed towards the back of the giant lot. “We should check their gas tank, too. Be nice to know how much we can come back for on round two.”

Dave, Paul, and Mike moved towards the RV, guns held as professionally as memories of watching Cops could make them. As Mike threw open the door to the first one, a crooked shape lunged from beneath the RV, dashing between the men and towards the open gate. Paul whirled, firing off a trio of wild shots, only one actually finding its mark. As the target yelped and collapsed, scrabbling at the asphalt, Dave reached over and grabbed Paul’s arm, nearly smacking the pistol out of his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

“It, um, I thought, it was a zombie.” Staring at the mortally wounded coyote, the younger man grimaced. “I didn’t, um, I just reacted. Moving target, not us, kablooie.”

Dave grabbed the pistol away, tucking it into his belt, and handed him a knife. “Now that you wasted three shots, go put the poor thing out of its misery.” As the other guys snickered, an embarrassed Paul grabbed the knife, moving cautiously towards the coyote. After a moment of careful study, he lunged forward, burying the knife between two ribs and darting backwards. “Damn thing probably has mange. Wash your hands before you get back in the truck,” Dave quipped.

Over the next three hours, Adam disassembled ten different engines, transmissions, and electrical systems. By the end, the minor repairs left six fifty-foot vehicles ready to drive home. “All that’s left is the gas,” Adam said as he wiped clean his hands. “How’s the tank?”

Mike glanced at the slightly smeared ink on the back of his left hand. “The gauge on it said a little over half. How much is that?”

Adam took a moment to do the math in his head. “Two-fifty, maybe three hundred gallons.” Appreciative whistles from the others met his words. “Let’s get them filled up, restock our tanks, and then get the hell out of here.”

Dave made a little whirling motion with his finger, and everyone but the lookout pulled a ten gallon can from the back of the trailer. After dumping the contents into four of the working RVs, they headed towards the back of the compound. “Lemme just get the pump working, and we can get this rolling.” Setting down his can, he leaned over the pump.

“Oh shit!” Paul cried, and Adam looked up just in time to see the zombie of an overweight woman latch onto his arm. As it sank its teeth into his arm, he screamed in panic. Paul lunged forward, stabbing the zombie repeatedly. Turning towards the new threat, the zombie’s hands grabbed him by the shoulders, biting his nose clean off.

Mike and Rich opened fire, blowing the zombie’s head to scattered pieces and jerking it away from the two victims. But a moment later, another half dozen came into view, walking steadily forward. Swearing, Adam pulled out his own knife and ran for them, feeling the blood running down his arm. Giving a war cry, he leaped onto the first zombie, bearing the pensioner to the ground and thrusting the knife up through its jaw, pinning it closed. Even as his companions started firing, the rest of the zombies fell on him like a pack of starving hyenas, tearing chunks out of his body.

With a cry of pain, Adam surged to his feet. Brilliant golden light burst forth from his body, incinerating all of the zombies around him. When the light cleared, Adam stood there, bite-shaped scars covering his arms and shoulders, but otherwise he stood there intact. As Mike and Rich gaped, he faced towards the freeway, and pointed. From his fingertip formed a brilliant bomb-shaped golden light, and it streaked forward. A massive explosion ripped through the afternoon air, sending a brief slap of air back towards them.

When Adam turned back, his friends stumbled back from him at first, then held their ground, pistols pointed in his direction. He looked over his shoulder, then met their eyes. “Um, guys? Was it just me, or was that awesome?” Further musing was interrupted by the pain-filled moan of Paul, who lay curled on the ground, both hands pressed to the ruin of his face. “Shit,” Adam eloquently summed up the situation.

They worked quickly, filling up the tanks to the brim, and carrying out a few boxes of vending machine snacks to load them in the trucks. As everyone picked up their keys from the office, Dave grabbed Adam’s shoulder. “Is Paul going to be able to get back?”

Adam looked away, glad he was out of sight. “I think so, I mean, I never had much beyond lifeguard training. If it wasn’t a zombie, I’d say definitely. As is … I think he’ll get home before the fever sets in. We’ll at least be close.”

Dave stared at the bald mechanic for a moment, and nodded. Setting his cowboy hat back on his salt and pepper hair, he strode swiftly out of the RV office. “Change of driving order. Adam first, with Paul, then Rich, Mike, Zee, Brandon, and me in the RVs.”

Adam spoke up as everyone moved towards their vehicles. “Leave braking room between the vehicles. Slow down for any turn. And,” he reached into the trailer one last time, “turn the walkie-talkies to channel five. Any kind of obstruction, I’ll let you know. If anyone sees zombies or other humans, sing out.”

Climbing into the vehicles, Adam cranked the battered Ford to life, then turned and headed back onto the road. “Let’s roll,” he said, and dropped the radio in the cup holder.

[BlueNinja]

Three hours later, they had reached the fortified compound at Spring Valley Ranch. A feeble cheer came from the crowd as the RVs rumbled through the steel gates, and Adam peeled his truck around the back of the former museum to assist with parking them. After a little finagling, all six of the vehicles were placed closely together, in a defensible position. Tents were already being taken down, and belongings moved in as the last RV settled into place and the motor died.

Dave was waiting as Adam exited the Winnebago. “You know what we have to do,” he said.

The younger man blanched, and hesitated. “We can wait a few more hours,” he pleaded. “I mean, Paul might be okay.”

“Paul?” The next moment, Adam looked up to find himself staring down the barrel of Dave’s revolver. “I’m talking about you. You got bitten at least three times, I can see the marks. So how the hell did they heal that fast?”

“Man, I don’t know. I don’t know!” The hammer on the pistol moved back under Dave’s thumb, and a sudden hydraulic noise echoed through the encampment. The ground below Dave fell away, as though a hinged door had opened, and suddenly Adam was looking down into the observation deck on the Stratosphere. Dave lay on the floor, clearly shocked, his pistol a few feet away – at the feet of a zombie. Which was turning towards the middle aged man as he scrambled to his feet.

Cursing, Adam dropped through the hole in space, which closed above him with another hydraulic whine. Stepping in front of Dave, he whirled and let off a kick. Hitting the zombie right in the chest, it flew back and splattered against the thick Plexiglas. As it struggled back, an arm fell off, and the head flopped behind it, the spine tearing free as the undead finally gave up its grip on ‘life’. Standing in a half-way decent follow through position, he stared in almost as much shock as his companion.

“What,” Dave’s tongue stumbled over the word as he looked hurriedly around, “what are you?”

They both turned as another zombie emerged in the doorway to the restaurant area. Stepping quickly to the side, Adam kicked the gun back to Dave, reaching for one of the observation binoculars. Taking a firm grip on the pole, he ripped it out of the floor, taking a practice swing with it. “Come get some, bitch,” he snarled to the undead cocktail waitress.

As the zombie shuffled forward, Dave held his shot, moving further to the side. Adam wound up, took two hops forward, and swung the binoculars with all his might. The aluminum framing shattered on impact, but not nearly as spectacularly as the zombie’s head. Brains, blood, and skull fragments misted the air all around, covering Adam with the gory spray. He spat, and did his best to wipe his eyes clean. A gunshot echoed loudly in the space, and he turned to see Dave in a follow-through pose at another fallen tourist zombie as it leaked brains all over the carpet.

“So,” Dave mused, glancing at the stairs up to the roller coaster. “So, how do we get down? The power’s been out for weeks, since the lines from Boulder Dam got broken.” He glanced out again. “I’m not ready to try climbing down forty or fifty stories of ladders.”

Adam nodded. He changed his grip on the aluminum pole, then looked back at where they came in. Frowning, he concentrated, and finally motioned with the pole. Again, with a faint hydraulic noise, a section of the floor seemed to fall away, revealing their enclave from a view above one of the new RVs. Dave stepped up next to him and watched down through it, and they both stared back at a few of the other survivors. After a few seconds, the floor retracted and returned to normal. Adam poked at it with the pole, and then Dave stomped on it. “Seems solid now. Can you do that again?”

Shrugging, Adam focused again, and after a few moments, the trapdoor in space appeared. Dave cautiously dropped through, landing on the RV and sliding off the side to land on the grass. Adam followed him after one last look around the Stratosphere, leaving the bent pole behind. Pushing his way through the awestruck and questioning crowd, Dave dragged Adam into the main building.

Unlocking the storage closet that now served as his office, Dave sat down and motioned Adam into the other seat. “How much were you paying attention to the news when the zombies first started rising?”

“Not much,” Adam admitted. “After getting Rebecca and Julia to my house, it was a couple of frantic days of grabbing what I could while trying to avoid getting eaten like most of the idiots I saw.” He sat and waited to hear the rest.

Dave nodded and leaned back in his chair. “There was some things on the news, right before the stations went off the air. People who could fly, or pick up cars, or,” he glanced pointedly at Adam’s right hand, “surround themselves with fire. You did that at the RV place.”

Staring down at his own hand, Adam flexed it carefully. It didn’t feel different, but … he was certainly doing something now he hadn’t before. “I can do something, yeah. I don’t think I can fly, though.” Nervously, he glanced at the faded photograph of the ranch, back from the days when it was still used to raise livestock instead of a tourist spot in the mountains. “I’m still me though, just Adam Jeffries, auto mechanic.”

“You’re not just an auto mechanic. You’re now an auto mechanic who can teleport, and throw fireballs. Our safety here is going to depend on you more than ever.” He shuffled through some papers on the school desk in the corner, then nodded. “You and your sister were staying in that little camping trailer you had, right? Tomorrow, I’ll set up a new detail. We’ll go back, you’ll get the pick of trailers there for your family.” Raising a hand, he made a shooing motion. “Now go on, see your sister and tell her the good news.”

As Adam opened the door, he paused. “What about Paul, sir?”

Dave looked back at him. “Well, if he has a fever in the morning … could you open that teleport to the outside of the Stratosphere? I’ve wondered if you can kill a zombie by throwing it off a building.”

Feeling chills down his spine, Adam stepped out and closed the door behind him.

[BlueNinja]

Friday the 13th, April, 2007

Spring Valley Enclave, northwest of Las Vegas, NV

Adam paused at the door to the trailer. "So, today?" Becky asked.

Adam nodded. "Yep. When I come back with a bigger trailer, have Julia ready to move out. Dave already promised we get a whole one, since I'm the one bringing them all back."

Becky nodded. "Are you sure it's not because of your new power?" she asked nervously, subconsciously flicking brown hair behind an ear.

He stood silently in the doorway for a moment, then stepped out into the early dawn air. Curled up in a blanket pile under the small table, Julia made a noise, which cut off as he eased the door closed.

Around the corner of the building was Adam's truck. Mike, Rich, and Brandon were waiting, guns ready. Without a word, they all loaded up in Adam's pickup, and with a quiet rumble, they headed out.

The roads were quiet in the earlier morning air, and the faint smell of ozone led to a faint hope for rain. They only passed one zombie on the way back to the dealership, which Adam wasted by simply sticking a fist out the window and mowing down the deader at forty miles an hour.

By noon, the men had gunned down another dozen zombies. Adam had fixed up two more big RVs, one smaller one, and a good fifty-foot trailer, now hitched to his pick-up. The gas tank was nearly dry, but all four vehicles were now topped off on diesel. "Anything else before we go?"

Mike nodded. "Can we cut over a few blocks, check the seven-eleven? It's a couple blocks off the freeway, and if there's too many chewies then you waste them and we go home." As Adam opened his mouth to argue, Rich spoke up in defense of the idea.

"Come on, man. I haven't been laid in weeks. A couple good cans of coke or beer are just what the ladies are looking for." Brandon also nodded.

Sighing, Adam pulled the trailer hitch off and backed the whole trailer a few steps. "Fine. Load back in the truck. If it's good, we'll load the supplies in the back of the truck until we get here, stuff them in the RVs, and then drive the hell home."

Brandon shrugged, opening the passenger door. "Why don't you just wave your hand and send them back home?"

Adam raised an eyebrow as he swung into the driver seat. "You really want me to drop a freezer full of sodas and beer six feet?"

"Ah, um, good point," Brandon reluctantly admitted. Five minutes later, they swerved up in front of the store. The three other guys swept the story quickly, while Adam moved towards the freeway. Zombies were already moving towards them down the ramps, and he was only waiting until they got close enough to catch all of them in the blast radius. "Ok, we got several cases of Miller and Bud, plus assorted sodas and chips and candy."

"Good enough," Adam said over his shoulder. "Hustle, and I'll join you in about two minutes." As the first cases came out to the truck, Adam held up a finger and waved it towards the zombies. "Stop, or I'll have to shoot," he told them in a bored voice. As the horde continued their slow, unwavering advance, he grinned, and leveled his finger at them. "Bang," he said, and a bomb-shaped blur of golden light shot from his finger, passing over the first few zombies before detonating.

The edge of the blast came right up to Adam's nose, obliterating the zombies, the road, and the edge of the overpass. The vehicles caught within melted instantly, paint boiling off of them, gasoline gone in a burst of flame lost within the greater conflagration. As the flames passed, small wisps of smoke rose up from the cratered road. Adam blew imaginary smoke from his fingertip, then turned back towards the store.

Ten minutes later, the pickup bed was stacked higher than the cab with beer, sodas, and cheap calorie-filled snacks. Other than the noise of the engine, the men were all silent as they transferred their booty to the RVs. Three hours later, they were back in the enclave, distributing some of the goods, and making deals. To his surprise, Adam found himself courted by a trio of the more attractive women. He put them off briefly, long enough to help Becky and Julia move. But of course, he had picked his new trailer because it had a separate 'bedroom' of sorts. Not soundproofed, but then, you couldn't have everything.

The next morning, he let the two women who came back out of the trailer. Becky was sitting at the larger table, sipping a lukewarm can of coke. "Is this going to be a regular thing?" she asked him quietly, not looking up.

He considered it for a moment, before reaching for his own can of soda. "Would that be so bad?" He took a deep drink, then belched a moment later. "Man, I missed this stuff."

She looked up, brushing her hair back. "Do you really know what it feels like to know that my brother is on the other side of a thin wall fucking a bunch of whores?"

He almost slammed the can down on the countertop, remembering his new strength at the last second, halfway crushing the can and sending cola over his fingers. "News flash, sis, they're not doing worse than anyone else here. We've got this nice place because I'm the only person here who knew both where to get them and how to make them run. You're earning your keep fixing up clothes and watching children while other people are planting crops and raiding into the city."

"I don't want my daughter brought up around that kind of behavior!" Becky shot back hotly, standing up carefully from the table. "I don't want her to grow up thinking that she has to spread her legs just to be able to eat!"

Adam glared at her, then turned and chugged the rest of the can, before crushing it with his full strength. "I swear to you, little sis, there is no way Julia will ever have to live that way. I already started teaching her everything I know about mechanics, and nobody's going to make her act that way while I'm standing." They met each other's glares unflinchingly, blue eyes to green, and finally Adam moved a finger over his chest. "Cross my heart."

Rebecca held his eyes for a moment longer, then sank back down on the bench seat. "I believe you, Adam. I'm just worried that even with these new powers, you won't be around long enough to keep your word."

"I'm not that easy to get rid of, sis," he said. Dropping the ball-bearing sized lump of aluminum on the counter, he moved for the door. "I've got to check out the tractors before they go back to work on the fields."

Silently, he padded out of the trailer, ignoring the pleading look his sister sent after him.

[BlueNinja]

Saturday the 14th, April 2007

Spring Valley Enclave, 0900, Dave's office

Adam and Brandon stood outside the open door as Dave finished writing a note. "Alright, here's the deal. The crops are starting to come in nicely, but even with rationing, we're going to run out of food in about two months." He turned back to his office, shuffled papers around on his desk, and brought out a road map. "Ok, there's a few targets we can hit on the edge of the city still. No telling how many of them got cleaned out by others, or by the chewies, but we don't have any other options."

Adam watched as Dave marked spots on the map with a pencil. "So, a couple of grocery stores, and a Mormon food bank?" He drummed his fingers on the butt of his revolver. "Want us to try and run along the 215, or back out of the city to minimize zombie chances?"

Dave shrugged. "Up to you. We need maximum packaged food and minimum deaths. We have a little time, so you don't have to hit them all at once. But you do have to account for time driving there and back."

Brandon nodded, and turned towards the door. "So, who are we going to bring with us?"

Adam shrugged. "I was figuring we'd grab Mike, Rich, then ask for another volunteer or two. Hopefully someone who knows the area." They stepped outside into the bright sunlight and papused, letting their eyes adjust to the sight of everyone working. Smaller children played outside of Adam's trailer, with Becky and Julia using some well-loved toys to teach them letters and numbers, while the teenagers helped in the field, or expanding the fence around the fields and the small orchard they were trying to cultivate. "Got any ideas?"

In response, he pulled on a worn Caterpiller ball cap, and looked over the field. "Jason was a janitor at Nellis, so he might know some of the stores around there. Ask Karen, too, she'll be happy to see you anyway." He nudged the bald man knowingly.

Adam frowned. He wasn't used to people talking about his personal life, and so far this morning he'd already had knowing looks, winks, glares, and one offer to "trade up" from a girl he doubted would be out of high school. Still, it wasn't a bad suggestion. "Alright, you ask Jason, and I'll ask Karen, then meet by my truck before we put out the call for volunteers."

Squaring his mental shoulders, he crossed the field towards half of last night's companionship. She was squatting in the mud, pulling weeds away from the slowly growing corn. "Hey Karen," he started, and she looked up, squinting against the sun before smiling broadly. "Do you know much about the northern edge of the city?" She stood up, stretching like a cat (to very good effect, he noted), before stepping closer to him, careful of the plants.

"Sort off, I lived off of Ann. Why do you ask?" She pressed her body up against him suggestively, and he took a moment to center himself. As much fun as last night was, there was no way he was taking her back to the RV, through all the kids, for an encore.

"We're putting together a raiding party. Going to check on some grocery stores on the north edge of town." He glanced down the row of scraggly plants. "Looking for volunteers who know the area. And can defend themselves."

Karen looked up at him, then backed off a little. "I don't have much experience with a gun, but I know the area somewhat. I drove down Ann to the freeway for work." He gestured, and she followed him back to the parking lot where the few working vehicles waited.

Five men and one woman piled into two pick-ups. Somehow, the rest of the smirking men had managed to get Karen in the passenger seat with him while they all piled in the other truck. The two of them sat silently for most of the drive, until she quietly blurted out, "I'm sorry."

"Hmm?" Adam glanced over, then back to the road, taking a moment to stick his hand out the window and rip the head off a zombie with a length of steel pipe. "For what?"

"For, I dunno, not being good enough for you. For whatever I did or didn't do that you're not happy to be with me." They carried on in silence for a few minutes longer, jouncing over the crumbling road.

"I'm not unhappy with you," Adam added at last. He saw her turn towards him from the corner of his eye. "I'm just, I suppose a little unused to the dating scene in the post-apocalypse." He slowed down to steer around a burned-out VW, then hit a zombie with the steel bars welded to the bumper as he jounced over the sidewalk into the parking lot of the first Albertson's on the list. "Or familiar with the dating scene of the pre-apocalypse, either," he said as he opened his door.

The other truck pulled up behind them, and everyone piled out. Two more zombies tottered towards them in the parking lot, and Adam whacked them with the pipe. "OK, priority is to grab cans and boxes. Stay out of the produce section and the freezer section. They're probably filled with mold." He glanced at the group. "Rich, stand watch out here, give a shout if more than one or two show up."

Everyone else grabbed shopping carts, pushing them into the store on squeeky wheels. The first ten minutes played out remarkably like a game of whack-a-mole for Adam, as the others lured zombies toward the front of the store and he bashed their brains in. After that, they searched the store carefully. Most of it had been cleared out during the initial rush of rioting and looting following Z-day, but in the back they found a couple of pallets of vegetables and powdered potatoes. Overall, it barely filled up the first truck once Adam got the pallets in place.

"Decision time," Adam said. "We can try another store, with the attending risk of zombie attack. Or we can take this home, knowing we only extended our food supply another week, at most." He glanced around. "I vote we go on."

Karen raised her hand timidly, and Brandon laughed. "Just speak up, woman, this isn't school."

Blushing, she gestured towards the roads behind them. "Not food, but a couple of blocks south there's a computer repair shop and a used bookstore. If they're intact, we can get some other good stuff before we turn back."

Everyone exchanged glances, then looked at Adam. He had a moment of panic, before nodding. "How many blocks are we talking about here?"

"Well, we're on Tropical, and it's on Ann. Maybe half a mile?" She squinted south down the street. "Two stoplights. It's on the north corner, though." Adam considered it for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. Everyone jumped back into the trucks, and cruised carefully down the street. More zombies were visible by the time they stopped, shuffling from the major streets in their direction.

"Crap," Mike said, and started firing shots off, slowly aiming and pulling the trigger. Rich and Brandon joined them. "Hey Adam, you watch the south, we'll watch east, and hopefully Jason and Karen can clean the places out before the zombies to the west catch up with us!" Adam nodded, taking aim and clearing the width of the street.

Jason and Karen split up, she taking the bookstore and he the electronics. Both came running out with armloads of equipment, carefully placing their stashes into the back of the empty truck. Gunfire continued to pop, and Adam moved back and forth between the two streets, sending his massive fireballs as the zombies clumped up in their eagerness for a meal.

Finally Karen stumbled out with one load of textbooks. "I think I about got everything!" she shouted. Then she screamed, and pointed. A zombie was standing on the roof of the shopping center across the street. As Adam turned towards it, two other zombies simply appeared, flickering into view like an old tv set warming up. Then one of them lunged off the wall, disappearing right before one of Adam's explosions leveled the front of the building.

"Shit! Everyone back to the trucks, now!" he shouted, racing for the cab of the truck. He skidded to a halt as the zombie reappeared in front of him, reaching out hungrily. He had a moment to note the giant claws, more fitting for a bear or a cat than a human being, as he executed a perfect baseball slide right past it, shattering one thigh bone with his pipe on the way past.

Recovering, he rolled and came back up on his feet, then leaped up to the runner by the driver door. Jason was dropping an armful of computer programs into the back, then leaped into the bed of the truck. The zombie, though lamed, vanished from sight again. Adam dropped into his seat, gunning the engine and throwing it into gear as Karen jumped into the passenger seat.

He pealed out of the parking lot, the other truck nearly hitting him as Rich followed in a near panic. "What the fuck was that?" Karen asked shrilly. Then Jason screamed from the bed of the truck. They both looked over their shoulder, to see the zombie in the bed of the truck with him, hand buried to the wrist in Jason's intestines.

Adam swung an arm backwards, shattering the back window, and a meter-wide sphere of fire blossomed above the screaming man, incinerating most of the zombie. In a panic, he threw or kicked the rest of the pieces over the side, heedless of the books and spare parts he sent tumbling with it. Past the parking lot, Adam slewed the truck to a stop, swinging out. "Drive," he ordered Karen curtly. "I'll try to get him patched up. Hopefully, that thing didn't bleed on him."

"What if another one appears in front of us?" she asked, sliding across the front seat and pulling the driver's door closed.

"Then let it roll right over his dead ass," Adam said.

[fin]