Creative Writing: The Black Beast

The nearest of the dead quickly picked up on the commotion going on down the road. The beeping of the horn and the barking of the dog might as well been a dinner bell. “Oh, shit what do we do now?” Steaks cried out. “Morgan, you asshole, you just got us all killed!” Johnny screamed abhorrently while punching the hood of Ruby. “Okay, let’s go!” he said pulling his handgun. “We don’t have a choice anymore, it’s guns a blazing. Steaks, what do you have left in the back of your Caddy?” Johnny and Steaks hurried to the SUV, while Ryan handed Mary back her gun. “Much obliged, ma’am,” he told her and she just nodded nervously. Johnny grabbed two hand grenades and another handgun which he then tucked into his waistband. Steaks took up the Uzi. Johnny then handed a 9 mm to Lovienthal along with the machete. He gave the last handgun a .44 caliber Smith and Weston to Billy. “Okay,
Ryan could be heard giving a rebel yell as the Confederate flag mounted to the bed of the Black Beast took to flight in the prevailing gales. “Remember don’t waste ammo if you don’t have to!” Johnny yelled out through his rear window to the McAllisters. The remaining dead that hadn’t noticed them yet began turning in unison as the vehicles charged towards them. They stagger awkwardly, arms stretched out in the oncoming vehicle’s direction. Mary locked her door and made the sign of the cross as Ruby struggled mightily to keep up with the speed of Johnny’s pickup. “Do you think we’ll make it through?” she asked Lovienthal with a shakiness in her voice that gave away her despondence and doubt. Lovienthal didn’t answer her. He was too busy concentrating, focused on the mêlée that lay ahead. With his white knuckles ever clenching the steering wheel, he pushed Ruby’s engine to keep up with the Black