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“Grab the gear,” Alien Jones said. “We’re leaving.”
“Out there? With those things?” Blandie asked. “No way!”
“You heard the human military leader,” Alien Jones said. “By tomorrow morning, this entire structure will be a pile of charred ash. We can’t stay here.”
I picked up my bug out bag. VGRF and Bernie did the same.
“What’s the plan, Esteemed Brainy One?” I asked.
“I sense there is a brand new, fully loaded Compensator Sports Utility Vehicle illegally parked across two handicapped parking spaces outside the nearby entrance. It was formerly owned by what you humans would refer to as a ‘One Percenter Douche Bag.’ We will make our way to it, hit the open road, and improvise a further plan from there.”
“Can I have a gun?” Blandie asked.
“You’ll shoot your foot off,” I said.
“You let HIM have a gun,” Blandie said, pointing to Bernie.
“Good point,” I said.
I pulled a spare pistol out of my waistband and handed it to her. She handled it rather clumsily.
“So how do you take the safety off? Is it just this little…”
Blandie fired a shot right into the roof.
“Gimme that!” I said as I took the piece back. I searched around for a blunt instrument and handed her a trophy that read, ‘Blandie Settler: Hipster Hutt Manager of the Year.’”
“You were manager of the year?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Blandie said. “So? What? I can do stuff good!”
I opened the door. That dumb, confused zombie was still bumping into the corner. He was harmless, so I left him alone.
“I need new duds,” my alien buddy said.
Alien Jones picked out some hipster wear – a white bucket hat, plaid cargo pants, a muscle shirt and oversized sunglasses.
“What planet are you from?” Blandie asked.
“Oh, it doesn’t really matter,” Alien Jones said as he adjusted his sunglasses. “I doubt you’ve ever heard of it anyway.”
The little green guy punched a button on the space phone and the security gate lifted. A throng of zombies poured in but were instantly vaporized when our tiny protector threw up his force field bubble.
“We only have five minutes,” I explained to Blandie as we ran out of the store. “And whatever you do, DO NOT TOUCH THE BUBBLE!”
Away we went, turning multiple bloodthirsty, brain hungry zombies into mist clouds until we hit the parking lot. Alien Jones’ bubble began to flicker.
“There’s the douche-mobile!” I shouted.
Alien Jones punched a button on his phone and the Compensator’s engine started and the doors unlocked.
“VGRF,” I shouted. “Take the wheel!”
The bubble passed out and so did my alien friend. I scooped him up into the back seat then took the front passenger’s seat. Blandie and Bernie got in the back.
The parking lot was quiet but as soon as VGRF backed the SUV up, zombie heads turned and they all converged on the vehicle.
“BQB you pussy!” Blandie shouted. “You’d let a girl drive?!”
I turned around to face Blandie.
“She’s not just any girl. She’s the Goddamned Number One International Car Thief Mayhem Champion Ten Years in a row.”
I looked at VGRF.
“You got this baby. Punch it!”
VGRF took off like she was in a stolen car, not just because she was, but because her nimble fingers had played out this scenario on her gaming console millions of times before. She smashed through piles of the undead like they were nothing. Blood and guts sprayed all over the window and she didn’t even flinch. She just sprayed the cleaning fluid and ran the wipers.
She banged a right out of the lot and floored it down the mall access road. Zombies chased along side the SUV, banging on the sides. She swerved right and left, taking them all out.
Full steam ahead, VGRF sailed the big truck at 80 MPH down the road until she came across a gaggle of beasts blocking the way forward. Too thick to slam through, she improvised.
“HANG ON!” my sweetie yelled.
With expert precision, VGRF yanked the emergency hand brake up, swerved out and just barely missed the horde car as she took a right and headed down Main Street.
To our left was a steep hill. More zombies ran down it and flanked the left side of the car.
VGRF rolled her window down and pulled a handgun out of her jacket pocket. She shouted, “BREAK YOSELF, FOOL!” then took them all out.
“I don’t wanna be rude but your old lady is givin’ me a mad chub right now, B.”
“Me too, Bernie. Me too.”