Amnesia

Dead Corpses

I'm screwed. I put myself in this situation. I lead myself to my own death. I look around for an escape route, somewhere to hide for protection, but I can't find anything to take cover with.

Then, a few cars away, I see a possible way to be protected for the time being.

An RV. It's small, but it's high. I don't think they can climb since they didn't climb the stairs to the roof at the market.

With that in mind, I run in the direction of the RV. I can hear them surrounding me. Their moans and footsteps grow closer, louder. My heart races.

When I feel a finger pull on my bag, I lunge for it. I throw all my weight toward the ladder of the RV. Once my sweating palms are gripped tightly around the step of the ladder, I begin to climb rapidly. I feel hands tugging at my shoes and sweatpants, but I kick them away.

Once at the top, I lay down on the roof of the RV. I breathe heavily, my fists clenched together in fear. I wait there, expecting an infected to magically climb up and attack at any moment. But after a few minutes of waiting, I realize they aren't coming.

I slowly rise to my feet, unhappy about the fact that I am very high just because of my fear of heights. That's something that I can definitely recall.

Below me are all of the infected that were following me from behind. Luckily none of the infected in front of me on the freeway ended up hearing me running and jumping onto the ladder.

They begin to surround all sides of the RV. The sounds of their hands banging on the outside of the vehicle matches my frantic heartbeat. I'm stuck in a situation that I'd never hoped for. I escaped death but I am now nothing but a perched bird with a broken wing, unable to fly myself to safety.

I look around for some way out, some way to escape, but I can't find anything. Not until my eyes lock on the piece of metal that protrudes from the top of the RV. I look down at it in curiosity, as for not knowing what to do with it just yet.

Then I realize it's possible use.

I quietly get down to my hands and knees, crawling to the metal object. I don't know what the hell it is. I don't think I've ever been good with cars. But I put my hands around it and slowly begin to pull, praying to whoever is above that they'll let it snap off quietly. Let alone actually snap off.

Finally, with another forceful pull, it snaps off. The force of my action causes the metal piece to fly straight into my face. I lay on my stomach in shock. The shock suddenly turns to laughter, and I am silently laughing with myself at the fact that my face prevented any sound except a thud.

Once I pull myself together, I inch my way towards the edge of the roof. Once I get there, I look for a place to aim the cylinder object.

I spot my target. A large truck that's been painted an ugly forest green sits parked a good ways away from the RV, towards the direction I came from. If my aim is precise, I will hit the truck. Hopefully the metal sound from the object will radiate towards the infected and distract them all to go behind me, not in front. Giving me a clean passage way towards my family.

Problem is, the freeway is very long. I don't know how far it is to the first off ramp, but I surely can't see it past the bend. The mountains clear my view of any possible off ramp.

I turn my body around, getting closer to the back of the RV so I can get better aim on the distant truck.

I remember as a child I would play football with my dad in the backyard. Sometimes I'd throw it so far that it would go over into the neighbors yard. We hated our neighbors. We couldn't even understand their language. But I'd always have to go over there with my dad and tell them my football was in their backyard. After they'd give it back to us, my dad would always smile at me and pat my back.