Last One Alive, Lock The Door ~ A Zombie RPG

"Funny...guys..." he said. The pager was on the ground. One of them put his foot over it.
"Aw, come on..." he said. The guy crushed it.
"Please, that's expensive! Dick!" He picked it up.
"Come on now. This sh*t ain't cheap, you know!"

 

"I'm good now."

"Okay," she said, opening the back of the truck and waving them inside. "Let's go then."

When no one moved, she climbed in first, taking a seat and immediately resting her head on the back.

 

Jason was even more annoyed. "Come down to the coast, have a few laughs..." he mumbled under his breath. He hopped into the truck, and turned the key in the ignition. He turned the radio to the local heavy metal station. Still freakin' playing. Just to piss of the homeboys.

 

"Quit cryin'... I can buy like a milli o' dem, naw'm sayin'?" he said to the crybaby.

Dirk stepped in the car and was instantly surrounded by heavy metal. He shrugged it off.

"You know... jus' cuz I talk like this, don't mean i only like rap sh*t, naw'm sayin'?"

He nodded his head violently to mock the army guy's taste in music. He even started talking with a demonic voice.

"The prince of darkness says... kill yourself, bro."

 

I followed her in and took the seat next to her. I knew I was playing the clechie guy but I didn't want either crazy next to her. "Time for a nap" I said softly to myself.

 

Because he could, Jason revved the engine.
"Come on people, I don't got all day."

 

"Quit cryin'... I can buy like a milli o' dem, naw'm sayin?"

"A milli, a milli, a milli." Fitz got in the back seat, just as army dude cranked the heavy metal. "What the f**k is this?" he said, drawing his six shooter. "Turn that s**t off or I'll turn it off for you."

 

"Aww, sh*t. I ain't got the pager to threaten you guys anymore. Fine."
Jason changed it to classical.

 

She heard them, still bickering outside. She beat her head lightly on the side of the truck.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" she groaned.

 

"What the f**k is this?" he said, drawing his six shooter. "Turn that s**t off or I'll turn it off for you."

D Wizzle turned to look at Fitz as he said that and smiled. He just earned Dirk's trust.

"That's what I'm talkin' bout, Fitz!!"

 

Jason opened the door, and looked at them.
"Hey, idiots, get in the truck."

 

"Aww, sh*t. I ain't got the pager to threaten you guys anymore. Fine."

"Amazing. Even amidst the zombie apocalypse there are still so many fascinating musical genres from which to choose," he put away his gun. "Music soothes the savage beast."

"That's what I'm talkin' bout, Fitz!!" Dirk said.

"I got yo' back, dawg," he said. "If he try that s**t again, Ima hafta pop off in this muh fu**a. You messin' wit a real G. I go hard in this bi**h."

 

"Naw'm sayin? Hard on that bitch!" he said rocking back and forth in the truck like a maniac.

He knew it was pissing the new guy off. Dirk had a helluva time getting on his nerves. But enough was enough, it was time for some progress.

"Ay, let's kick rocks out this bitch, mayn!"

 

punk ass double post...

 

With everyone in, the car moved. She didn't know exactly where they were going. She couldn't care less.

Her eyes closed. Just a few minutes... Dirk was shaking the truck, so she kicked him. Lightly, it didn't hurt. She didn't open her eyes.

 

Dirk stopped shaking when Kaeila kicked him. He looked in her direction to find she was resting and her eyes stayed closed. She needs it. It takes a lot of energy to keep up with D Wizzle. Whether he's at autograph signings, movie premiers, or being chased by zombies he's a handful. She'll have her time, for now. Since Fitz wasn't goofing off, and the army guy was acting cool, Dirk just took it down a notch all together. He sat back in the seat, watching the little view he had from the back seat.

He took a moment to think about the dangers that were headed for them. A rare serious moment for him. It was usually about fun. Not because life was a joke, but he had lost loved ones at a young age, and he just wanted a positive life. And for him, having fun was just what he needed. He had tutors, and they were usually hot. Or cool if he happened to catch a guy. Maybe occasionally he didn't think of others. But the young man was far from selfish.

He did have a movie scheduled to be released in about three months, but with the zombie breakout, there's a strong possibility that won't be released. And it was guaranteed to win Dirk an award as a serious actor. And he had some charitable organization he was going to open up with Jake for children with M.D.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a fidgeting Kaeila. She tossed back and forth. Was she dreaming about the D Man? Dirk smirked as her body squirmed.

 

They had finally made it outside, and as expected, another fight broke out among the rag-tag group of survivors. Sarah rolled her eyes. It was apparent that they'd be taking the truck to wherever they were going. But, there wouldn't be quite enough room for all of them in there, and Sarah was more comfortable with herself at the wheel than one of these crazies. She jogged back to the lot where her Impala was parked and she brought it up next to the truck just as they finished their argument and climbed aboard.

"I have extra seats for anyone who cares." She yelled out the window as they were loading.

 

"I have extra seats for anyone who cares," the doctor said, just before both vehicles departed the school.

With the heavy metal music blaring, Fitz didn't quite hear what she said. It wasn't until after some peace and quiet was restored that the words came to him.

They we going a steady 20 mph when he pulled the handle and jumped from the moving truck. He tucked and rolled, tumbling across the street and onto the lawn of a nearby house. The doctor nearly ran him over.

"I'd like a seat," he said, signalling for her to stop. What kind of gentleman would he be if he let her travel alone?

 

There had been no response, and so she drove by herself, following as they made their seemingly slow way through the suburbs. It was a good thing she was paying attention; one of the truck's passengers opened up the door and jumped out onto the pavement. She hammered the break, lurching to a halt feet in front of him. He had tucked in and rolled, and now he walked to the passenger door, opened up, and climbed in next to her.

"I'd like a seat,"

She blinked.

"You certainly know how to get a person's attention..." She said, smirking slightly.

 

"You certainly know how to get a person's attention..." She said, smirking slightly.

He removed his hat as he entered the car. She was smirking, but he was dead serious. "I don't believe I properly introduced myself," he said, putting on his seatbelt. "Fitzgerald McGee, but you may call me Gerald," he added, offering to shake her hand.

 

Eccentric, perhaps, but not entirely uncivilized. He introduced himself rather like a gentleman, and offered to shake her hand. She took it, the grin pulling on the sides of her mouth.

"Sarah Jacobs. If you're a professor, you can call me Jacobs. If you're anyone else, you can call me Sarah. Pleasure to meet you, Gerald."

 

"Sarah Jacobs. If you're a professor, you can call me Jacobs. If you're anyone else, you can call me Sarah. Pleasure to meet you, Gerald."

"And a pleasure to meet you too, Ms. Jacobs," he said. "It has been brought to my attention that you are a doctor -- or at least the closest thing we have to such a title. Tell me, Ms. Jacobs -- in your professional opinion -- am I insane?" He stared into her sparkling blue eyes, calmly awaiting a response.

 

"It has been brought to my attention that you are a doctor -- or at least the closest thing we have to such a title. Tell me, Ms. Jacobs -- in your professional opinion -- am I insane?"

She looked over and locked eyes with him, studying him closely. She hadn't actually spent much time observing him. In the rush of everything going on, and in the stress of the moment, it seemed almost everyone was breaking down.

"Well, there's a difference between insanity and action under duress. I'd have to observe you in a few different situations before I could make a complete professional evaluation." She realized that they were still stopped, and she looked away from him, to set her foot to the gas, catching up with the truck.

"Until then, I might be able to discern some details by asking you a few questions." She glanced back at him with laughter in her eyes.

 

Jerry ran for the road, practically dragging Grell behind him. They're trip to the hospital had, for the most part, been a complete failure. He'd managed to get some rudimentary treatment (From Grell and himself) for his head wound and had crisp, white gauze. One whole side of the hospital lay in ruins, zombies wriggling under the heap of wreckage [but that's a story for another time].
Jerry could hear the sound of engines in the distance leacing the school. They seemed to be heading in one direction, to the north. Jerry ran with all his might, Grell trailing along behind him. He doubted if any of them would think to pick them up.
The street came into view just as an armoured truck rolled by. Jerry cursed when he realized no one had seen them. He looked down the opposite way and saw a smaller car coming down the street. Jerry ran out into the street and began waving it down.

 

Sarah blinked again as Jerry came apparently out of nowhere and flagged her down. With him was another man she had seen only briefly; but she remembered the way he spoke, and it appeared that he, more than any of them, was certifiable. She stopped and unlocked the doors for them.

"Looks like we have some more company." She twisted in her seat, and replaced the duffel bag to make room for the two men.