Jack shook his head as he watched the neighborhoods drift by. John noticed and asked him what was on his mind.
“DINKs,” John said when Jack had finished talking. “Stands for ‘Dual Income No Kids.’ And you’re right.” He stared out of his own window for a moment before continuing, “Where did it all get them? These DINKs...” He directed his next words at the houses. “They both worked their asses off, no time to build a family, so that they could move into these places.” He scoffed. “Heck, they only use a couple of rooms anyway. The rest is empty. Empty, and haunted by the things that could have been.”
He surprised Jack with these deep thoughts.
“With a fuck-ton of cleaning to do,” Abi contributed from the front seat before turning to Mike with an embarrassed look. “Sorry, boss.” He let it slide, so she turned to face the back seat again. “I had a tiny apartment just in the belt-line outside of the downtown core. Loved the place. Everything I needed was close-by, and I could clean the place in no time flat!”
“Heads up, folks.” Mike’s warning instantly pulled the trio out of their reverie, as the Humvee passed underneath an overpass, which was the outer ring road.
As if on cue, they had to slow down and start weaving as zombies appeared on the road in front of them. The next forty-five minutes were a lot more stressful, since they had several close calls and added a few scuff marks to the exteriors of the military vehicles.
Jack started recognizing landmarks as they closed in on their part of town. He felt excited to see his mom again, and a strange sense of pride. Like he had accomplished something. Only he couldn’t put his finger on what he had actually accomplished.
It was all going well so far. In fact, Jack noticed a lot less zombies in the outlying area around their gated community than he had on the way out of town.
“Seems quiet,” Mike remarked, mirroring Jack’s thought.
They must be migrating or gathering somewhere.
Unbidden images of the encroaching crowd of zombies around the farmhouse throughout the night came to his mind, and Jack started to worry about the folks they had left behind.
They accepted their blessings, though as it was a lot less complicated to navigate the tight spots on the roads without undead taking a run at their vehicle.
Things got complicated when they got close to their destination. Jack was watching excitedly as their vehicle turned the last corner and the gate came into view. His excitement turned to dismay; at least thirty zombies gathered there. Mike hit the brake and they jostled in their seats, coming to an abrupt halt. It was unnerving to watch the undead all turn in unison and immediately head towards the Humvee.
“Abi,” said John, “tell BB to back up at least fifty feet. Do not engage, we will draw them out.”
Abi dutifully repeated John’s instructions into her handset. Jack watched as the other Humvee backed up.
John grabbed his weapon, loaded a magazine, and fed a round into the chamber. “Back her up down this street, slow and steady.” He plugged in his earplugs and reached for the hatch. “Ear plugs.” He called out as he popped the hatch and stood.
Everybody had a set of earplugs on them, and they reached for those hurriedly as John sighted down his M4.
The first deafening shot rang out. Jack watched a face explode in the distance, then fumbled with his earplugs, getting them in by the time John had taken his second shot.
Abi signaled for him to have a new magazine ready to hand to John. Jack nodded, his eyes catching movement past Abi through the windshield. The sight of dozens of zombies staggering their way towards them was horrifying. He watched as a head snapped up, red mist exploding behind it. John was three for three.
Mike started to back up the Humvee. They had at least thirty yards of clear road before he was going to have to intricately weave between cars. Doing this backwards would be impossible for Jack, and he couldn’t help wondering of Mike was up to the task.
They worked well together, despite the strange circumstances. Mike would back the vehicle up five feet, stop, and John would take two or three shots. Despite his accuracy, not all the shots were kills, though.
Some of the zombies could go no faster than a wooden walk. Surprisingly, others seemed to be capable of more. Jack watched with fear in the pit of his stomach as a fast one pushed its way through the crowd and came at them at something nearing a run. That fear was replaced with relief as John took it out, literally flipping the undead with his shot.
They got about twenty yards before John fired his last shot and popped the magazine, which fell back into the Humvee, and put his hand out to receive a fresh one. Jack was ready and handed the magazine to him. The former operator didn’t miss a beat, inserting the mag and chambering a round in one smooth motion before sighting and taking his next shot.
Jack continued to look out the front windshield, noticing that the small horde of zombies were now at the intersection from which they had started.
Would they notice BB and the others? The answer was immediately clear as John took another shot. They only had eyes for Jack’s vehicle.
They backed up another five feet. Mike was going to have to start angling the Humvee to get through the
