I stood in the middle of the road, waiting for Gianni’s car, which would either stop as I planned or sail right over me with nothing more than a thump to mark my passing.
He’d arrive within a few moments if Gianni stuck to the schedule he’d been keeping for the last week. I’d already cleared the area of any zombies I could find to avoid unwanted interruptions.
I studied the trees to either side of the road, but couldn’t find Daffodil. There was a chance that he wasn’t there. The previous night, as the two of us sat in my van discussing the plan, he told me he didn’t like the plan and that he didn’t want to go back to Sisco anyway.
I heard Gianni’s engine before I saw his car appear on the horizon. The urge to scramble to the side of the road grew stronger the closer he got. Especially since he didn’t seem to be slowing down.
“Stop, man!” I shouted. He didn’t even slow.
By the time I was ready to give up, and get off the road, it was too late. I was transfixed on the car bearing down on me. I threw my hands over my head and screamed. The tires locked up, and the car slid to a stop on the dirt road, less than two feet from my jelly-like legs.
Gianni stepped out of his car with a smile on his face and a gun in his hand. I raised my hands, not looking to give him an excuse to shoot me.
“I’ll be damned. The rumours are true,” Gianni said.
I gave a slight bow.
“You should hear them talk about you back home. It’s like you’re bigfoot, or Santa Claus or something like that.”
“Those are big shoes to fill.”
I was worried. Daffodil was supposed to have intervened by then. It seemed I was on my own.
“They aren’t going to let you back in, you know. Even if I let you in my car, which I’m not, they’d make me leave you outside the gate.” He smiled again, and pointed his gun at me. “But I bet I’d be a hero to certain people, the people in power, if I brought back your head.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” I said.
“And why not?”
“Because,” I said with a shrug. “Daffodil will cut your fucking head off.”
Daffodil had finally showed up. As I spoke the last few words, he stepped up beside Gianni, silent like the creepy bastard he was, and slipped that strange wire of his around Gianni’s throat.
The sudden crazed look in Gianni’s eye made me remain standing still with my hands up. If he thought he was about to die, I would go before him.
“You ever see Daffy use that thing before?” I asked. “He gives it a little tug and your head hits the ground before your body does. But that’s now going to happen, right? Toss the gun down.”
He let the pistol fall from his hand. Daffodil kept the wire around his throat until I walked over and grabbed the gun.
“Glad you decided to show,” I said to Daffodil.
“We’ll see if it was the right decision.”
I shoved Gianni toward the rear of his car. He watched me open the trunk with a sneer on his face.
“You’re not putting me in my own trunk.”
I pointed his own gun at him. “You were about to shoot me and take my head back to Sisco. I could always do things that way.”
“One scratch,” he warned as he stepped into the trunk and curled into the fetal position.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Like you could do anything about it.”
He opened his mouth to spew a response, but the lid the slammed shut before he could curse the first syllable.
“All right,” I said to Daffodil. “We’re off to see the wizard.”
“Who?”
“Just get in the damn car.”
Sisco was in sight within moments of driving. Sooner than I was truly ready for. My plan had gone perfectly so far, but the next step was a little hazy. It didn’t matter how much time I had to think it over. I wasn’t ready.
As I approached the gate, I spun the back tires of Gianni’s 2-door, fishtailing the car around and doing a few donuts. Generally anything to make it look like a showoff was behind the wheel. I could see why Gianni did it. It was fun.
Thumps came from the rear of the car along with some muffled objections to my considerable driving skills.
I stopped the car in front of the gate, honked the horn, and tried not to sweat as we waited. After a few long seconds, the gate started to swing open. I smiled over at Daffodil.
“See?” I asked.
“Yeah. But now what?”
I hadn’t even thought of that. Once inside the gates, how long could I hide before someone saw me? I could lay low at Jack’s for a while, but was that any better than hiding outside of the walls?
As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about any of that.
The gate froze when it was only open a few feet. There was some commotion up in the security booth, though I couldn’t quite see what was going on.
Some of the nearby zombies wandered over to the car and started to paw at the windows. More of the dead became interested in us by the second.
“Problem with the gate?” I asked aloud.
“Probably not,” Daffodil said.
As if Daffodil had seen a little piece of the future, the gate started to close. With my way into Sisco disappearing and more and more attention from the horde, I panicked.
I stomped on the gas and took aim at the gate. With the short distance I had for speed, and the strength of the gate, all I was able to do was help the gate close faster. I backed up a short distance, which was made more challenging by all the corpses, and charged forward again.
There was more speed behind the second attempt, but the result was mostly the same. When I backed up, there was nothing more than a tiny dent in the gate’s frame.
“It’s progress,” I said, putting the car into drive and making another run. It would take a while, but eventually I’d get through. And in the progress, I’d run over a whole lot of zombies. Win, win.
Then a bullet ricocheted off of the car’s hood. My eyes widened at the hole it left in the metal. Jansen stood at the peak of the overpass with a rifle, and a goon on each side of him. He took aim again and a bullet came through the windshield.
“Shit!”
I put the car in reverse and turned the wheel as I backed up. Back into drive, I hit the gas and steered away from Sisco. The wheels spun as they slipped on body parts and puddles of goo.
Another shot rang off of the car body. We were moving, but just barely. It was like driving in winter with bald tires.
“You feel like getting out and pushing?” I called, and was not dignified with an answer.
The next shot shattered the rear window. As if it gave us a much-needed push, the tires found traction and we shot forward, away from Sisco.
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