David Adams did not know how to hotwire a car. It seemed that even during an apocalypse people weren’t keen on leaving their keys in the ignition. He’d passed a blue Ford Shelby, a silver Mercedes SL and a lime Volkswagen van, all with air in the tires and gas in the tanks. The Ford stung the most. It had a few dents in the roof from hails but was in otherwise great condition. He’d busted the window just to sit in it and he could still smell a hint of new car and real leather. Amazing. Fucking amazing!
He saw the Fiat Panda from a distance. Oh hell no. It had air in the tires. Please lord no. All the windows were intact. Don’t do this to me. The keys were in the ignition. Fuck! Of all the dingy, crappy, bumpy pieces of shit to come across! He looked around. There weren’t any other cars as far as he could see and it was getting cloudy. Oh screw it! He pulled the handle and found the car was locked. Oh you have got to be kidding me... He pulled out the Beretta. Well, here goes nothing. He aimed at the back seat window and pulled the trigger but the safety was on. He flipped it off and pulled again but he hadn’t loaded it. Come on! He pulled back the slider and fired at the window. The gunshot split the sound barrier, shattered the window, kicked back and twisted his wrist with frightening force. He dropped the gun and cursed loudly. He’d been holding it with one hand and a loose grip. He wouldn’t be doing that again. But the gun worked and he had a vehicle which petrol gauge showed half a tank of gas. He slung his backpack onto the backseat and twisted the key in the ignition. It coughed and died out. Come on you piece of shit. It coughed again, but longer and louder. David stepped on the gas and the engine revved to life with a soft purr and a wheeze and Free Fallin’ emitted from the speakers. Alright!
He saw the Fiat Panda from a distance. Oh hell no. It had air in the tires. Please lord no. All the windows were intact. Don’t do this to me. The keys were in the ignition. Fuck! Of all the dingy, crappy, bumpy pieces of shit to come across! He looked around. There weren’t any other cars as far as he could see and it was getting cloudy. Oh screw it! He pulled the handle and found the car was locked. Oh you have got to be kidding me... He pulled out the Beretta. Well, here goes nothing. He aimed at the back seat window and pulled the trigger but the safety was on. He flipped it off and pulled again but he hadn’t loaded it. Come on! He pulled back the slider and fired at the window. The gunshot split the sound barrier, shattered the window, kicked back and twisted his wrist with frightening force. He dropped the gun and cursed loudly. He’d been holding it with one hand and a loose grip. He wouldn’t be doing that again. But the gun worked and he had a vehicle which petrol gauge showed half a tank of gas. He slung his backpack onto the backseat and twisted the key in the ignition. It coughed and died out. Come on you piece of shit. It coughed again, but longer and louder. David stepped on the gas and the engine revved to life with a soft purr and a wheeze and Free Fallin’ emitted from the speakers. Alright!
David was laughing hysterically as he was speeding down the country road. He hadn’t driven a car in twenty years and he was all over the tarmac, encouraged by Tom Petty for the thirtieth time. The sun was setting and grey, brown and green flickered past him and blurred together as he quickly passed 88 miles per hour. The engine didn’t sound too good and it turned out one of the rims were a little bent so he had decided to race this Panda into an early grave. Pandas had always annoyed him. Lazy bastards.
The fuel gauge was swiftly dropping, so he started scanning the side of the road for a suitable place to sleep. That’s when he saw her. Thumb extended, standing next to a billboard, trying to smile. She wasn’t attractive. Her hair was the color of mud and shagged to her hunched shoulders. A stained, white top barely covered her sagging breasts and her ribs stood out even in the low light. Her legs were so thin it looked like they might snap and giant sunglasses covered half of her gaunt face. She started waving frantically when she spotted him but David Adams was not always a foolish man.
He sped past her and looked in the rearview mirror and saw two hunched figures hiding behind the blank billboard. He brought the car to a halt and looked closer in the mirror. They appeared to be unarmed, except one of them, the larger one, was holding a steel pipe. He sped up, pulled the handbrake and turned the wheel. The Panda’s backend spun around and the headlights panned perfectly to the two ambushers who all of a sudden didn’t look too comfortable in their own skins. Fuck I’m smooth. David pulled the door handle, kicked the door open and in one fluid motion he got out and pulled the Beretta from his jeans. He was furious and didn't notice the car dying out behind him.The woman led out a shrill scream and dropped to her knees and the bloke holding the pipe dropped it and backed up against the back of the billboard, his smaller companion quickly following suit.
“Whoa…”
“Whoa what?” David shouted. He couldn’t recognize his own voice but he didn’t care. “I could’ve been a woman. I could’ve been a kid! Would that have mattered?”
“I…”
He screamed, “Would that have mattered?!”
“Yes! Yes it would matter”, the big guy stammered. “Come on guy, we’re just trying to cope.”
“No, nah, don’t gimme that bullshit! The roads are littered with cars and the cans don’t expire until twenty-fifty. What gives you the right?” He made a stabbing motion with the gun towards the big guy. David’s eyes were wild. “Were you gonna kill me? Was that what the pipe was for?”
A small voice piped up. “Nossignore”, the woman chirped. “Che mai. Mi assicuro che non lo fanno, da Dio.”
David’s anger spiked,”what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The boy spoke up. Christ it’s a boy. “She said ‘never that.’ That she makes sure we don’t.”
“… Oh”
The boy spoke again. “Are you going to kill us now?”
“Boy, shut it!”
“What, he wouldn’t think of it if I hadn’t said it?” the boy shouted. “He’ll either kill us or he won’t. Right, I’m going.” The boy turned around and started walking down the side of the road, head bowed, barefooted. And British. David lowered the Beretta. Bloody hell. And made a decision.
“Okay listen. A few miles down the road, there’s a two story villa made out of pale, red bricks. It’s deserted and loaded. I took enough for weeks but there’s plenty left. Some rich guy committed suicide so you”, he pointed to the big fellow, “will have to clear the body out. Bury it, burn it, dump it, I don’t care, I didn’t know this one. Don’t get too hung up about it. After all he hung himself and once he’s gone the smell won’t linger in the floorboards or anything. Go there. Stay there. Pin your name to the door. I…” David looked around, feeling frustrated and helpless. “I know things are difficult but this is not the way to go man. Alright and I know… I know it’s scary. It’s fucking frightening beyond belief but you cannot be part of the problem when we’re so few left! Especially with a kid man…”
It registered. David almost felt sorry for him, looking down on his shoes, his chins rapidly multiplying. But David was pleased and couldn’t care about the big guys’ feelings. Not when the boy was stubbornly trudging along still. “Well fucking go get him then!”
“Grazie mille signore…”
“You get the boy to tell her everything I said, alright?”
“I do speak Italian you know…”
“Well, complimenti alla mama dumbass!”
David slung himself in behind the wheel and dumped the Beretta on the passenger seat. He twisted the key. The engine choked.
Fuck me!
The fuel gauge was swiftly dropping, so he started scanning the side of the road for a suitable place to sleep. That’s when he saw her. Thumb extended, standing next to a billboard, trying to smile. She wasn’t attractive. Her hair was the color of mud and shagged to her hunched shoulders. A stained, white top barely covered her sagging breasts and her ribs stood out even in the low light. Her legs were so thin it looked like they might snap and giant sunglasses covered half of her gaunt face. She started waving frantically when she spotted him but David Adams was not always a foolish man.
He sped past her and looked in the rearview mirror and saw two hunched figures hiding behind the blank billboard. He brought the car to a halt and looked closer in the mirror. They appeared to be unarmed, except one of them, the larger one, was holding a steel pipe. He sped up, pulled the handbrake and turned the wheel. The Panda’s backend spun around and the headlights panned perfectly to the two ambushers who all of a sudden didn’t look too comfortable in their own skins. Fuck I’m smooth. David pulled the door handle, kicked the door open and in one fluid motion he got out and pulled the Beretta from his jeans. He was furious and didn't notice the car dying out behind him.The woman led out a shrill scream and dropped to her knees and the bloke holding the pipe dropped it and backed up against the back of the billboard, his smaller companion quickly following suit.
“Whoa…”
“Whoa what?” David shouted. He couldn’t recognize his own voice but he didn’t care. “I could’ve been a woman. I could’ve been a kid! Would that have mattered?”
“I…”
He screamed, “Would that have mattered?!”
“Yes! Yes it would matter”, the big guy stammered. “Come on guy, we’re just trying to cope.”
“No, nah, don’t gimme that bullshit! The roads are littered with cars and the cans don’t expire until twenty-fifty. What gives you the right?” He made a stabbing motion with the gun towards the big guy. David’s eyes were wild. “Were you gonna kill me? Was that what the pipe was for?”
A small voice piped up. “Nossignore”, the woman chirped. “Che mai. Mi assicuro che non lo fanno, da Dio.”
David’s anger spiked,”what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The boy spoke up. Christ it’s a boy. “She said ‘never that.’ That she makes sure we don’t.”
“… Oh”
The boy spoke again. “Are you going to kill us now?”
“Boy, shut it!”
“What, he wouldn’t think of it if I hadn’t said it?” the boy shouted. “He’ll either kill us or he won’t. Right, I’m going.” The boy turned around and started walking down the side of the road, head bowed, barefooted. And British. David lowered the Beretta. Bloody hell. And made a decision.
“Okay listen. A few miles down the road, there’s a two story villa made out of pale, red bricks. It’s deserted and loaded. I took enough for weeks but there’s plenty left. Some rich guy committed suicide so you”, he pointed to the big fellow, “will have to clear the body out. Bury it, burn it, dump it, I don’t care, I didn’t know this one. Don’t get too hung up about it. After all he hung himself and once he’s gone the smell won’t linger in the floorboards or anything. Go there. Stay there. Pin your name to the door. I…” David looked around, feeling frustrated and helpless. “I know things are difficult but this is not the way to go man. Alright and I know… I know it’s scary. It’s fucking frightening beyond belief but you cannot be part of the problem when we’re so few left! Especially with a kid man…”
It registered. David almost felt sorry for him, looking down on his shoes, his chins rapidly multiplying. But David was pleased and couldn’t care about the big guys’ feelings. Not when the boy was stubbornly trudging along still. “Well fucking go get him then!”
“Grazie mille signore…”
“You get the boy to tell her everything I said, alright?”
“I do speak Italian you know…”
“Well, complimenti alla mama dumbass!”
David slung himself in behind the wheel and dumped the Beretta on the passenger seat. He twisted the key. The engine choked.
Fuck me!
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