"Hi-yah!" He yelled, throwing the empty magazine with all the force his right arm could, at the bloated zombie.
Chase had some aim with his throw, as the empty magazine hit the zombie right on the forehead. There was a brief moment of silence, the boys not even firing their guns. The zombie stared at the four in confusion, and vice versa. It seemed that both parties were dumbfounded at the thought of throwing an empty rifle magazine at a zombie and having an empty mag thrown straight at your forehead. After the few moments of awkward silence were over, the zombie began growling and moaning again and tried to make its way up the stairs, but ended up falling face-first onto the steps.
As soon as the zombie began to growl and moan, the four men let out angry and panicked war cries, immediately returning fire. Chase pulled out a magazine from his duffel bag and reloaded his rifle. Luke held the revolver even tighter and tried to focus all of his energy to score a shot on the zombie on the stairs trying to get up. He fired his third round, and once again, the recoil was high, and the bullet was mere inches from hitting the zombie in the head. His right eyelid began to twitch in irritation.
"Run guys, run, it's gon' blow!" Samuel warned. His three friends obeyed and ran up the stairs onto the second floor, to try and take cover when the bloated zombie did explode.
After taking enough damage, the zombie exploded, sending guts and blood all over the bottom of the stairs, walls, and surrounding objects like a grenade's shrapnel.
"Phew, at least we weren't in the radius of that one, right guys?" Christopher asked with a slightly awkward chuckle.
"Damn right," Chase replied.
"Alright, back to position!" Christopher ordered.
"SIR, YES, SIR!" Chase, Luke, and Sam replied to their leader.
They ran back onto the stairs and fired at any brain-eating, undead corpse that so much as dared made a noise. Zombies of all kinds, Walkers, Ankle Biters, Runners, Bloaters, etc. All entered the house, filing through the front door like cattle being herded into the slaughterhouse. After a few more minutes of almost non-stop gunfire, it seemed like the number of zombies began to dwindle slightly.
"Alright men, there's our window, let's go!" Christopher exclaimed, leading his three friends as they ran out the front door.
Many zombies were congregating on the front lawns of homes, sidewalks, and roads... As the undead heard the speech they had long lost the capability of, from fresh meat, and saw ones that weren't one of them running down the street, it attracted their attention. They snarled, growled, and moaned as they slowly shambled towards the direction of the four, running, armed men.
"We've got walkers, to your right, to your right!" Chase warned his pals.
"Affirmative!" Christopher replied.
"Me and Luke got the left, Chris and Chase, you fire to your right!" Samuel exclaimed.
"Got it!" Christopher responded.
As they ran, Christopher and Chase all fired their guns at zombies to their right, while Luke and Samuel fired to their left.
Luke was still armed with the inaccurate revolver he had found earlier. It was clear the expression on his face grew more and more furious. He was skilled with almost any type of firearm, due to his experience during the war... But with this gun? In order to actually land a shot, he had to be dangerously close to a zombie.
"Luke, switch back to your MG, you're shooting like Hellen Keller!" Chase said in a mocking tone. He had witnessed every shot Luke missed with the revolver, and he had only managed to score about 6 body shots and only 1 headshot on a zombie, and those weren't even in a row.
For some reason, Luke didn't listen, even though he knew the revolver sucked, he just still wanted to try and make it work.
"Guys, the RV is up ahead, let's go!" Christopher alerted.
Christopher yanked open the side door of the GMC RV, and hopped inside, Luke following behind him. For some reason, instead of running into the RV with their friends, Chase and Samuel chose to stay outside the RV and fire their guns at any of the oncoming zombies.
"Guys get in! We've got the best safe house of them all!" Luke exclaimed
"I'll hotwire the RV, you guys just give me fire support!" Samuel exclaimed as he and Chase jumped into the RV.
(Here's a basic Floor Plan/Layout of the 1977 GMC Royale RV for reference, find the one that is labled "Floor Plan 26-11" on page 2).
[https://www.gmcmi.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/GMCMH-Model-Floor-Plans.pdf]
Christopher and Chase both stood in the kitchen of the RV, firing round after round at the zombies outside through the open door of the RV. Samuel was in the driver's seat, trying to hotwire the RV and get it to start. Chase and Christopher stared at Luke in confusion when they saw him run to the back of the RV, towards the double bed.
"Luke, where the hell are you going?" Chase asked, eyebrows raised.
"I'll provide fire support from here!" Luke replied.
Chase and Christopher gave awkward and confused looks at each other, having no clue what their friend was planning, but they resumed fire at the zombies outside the door of the RV. Luke opened the rear window of the RV and began to fire his revolver out the window.
Sweat dripped down his forehead when he noticed one of the zombies... It appeared to be a short and scrawny, mutilated, undead corpse with most of its flesh and bones visible, with the addition of a hunch back to its stature. Its head essentially looked like a bare skull, and the flesh around it appeared to have 'melted off' its face in a way. This zombie was a runner, charging on all fours toward the RV.
The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus his inner concentration on trying to NOT miss another zombie. The amount of focus and willpower he was doing his best to channel, was like Michael Jordan trying to win the championship for his team back in the 90s.
Then, Luke opened his eyes and nearly shit his pants, the runner zombie jumped up in the air, let out an ear-piercing scream, and was flying towards him, about to pounce at him through the open window.
Luke let out a deep, primal scream of fear and shock as he saw this grotesque, speedy zombie just mere inches from his face. With a pull of the trigger, he fired. As a thunderous gunshot rang out, a bullet rocketed out of the barrel of his revolver, and it penetrated the skull and brain of the mangled runner zombie. Once the bullet penetrated, the zombie flew backward and landed on its ass, terminated.
"Die, ya fuckin' bitch." Luke said with a cold smile of accomplishment. It was obvious that even though he was jump-scared by this zombie and nearly urinated and defecated his pants both at once, he still felt as if he was a badass by taking out the zombie.
He quickly regained his cool and began firing the last 5 rounds in his revolver at the closest zombies he could. His patience was draining on a very fast level. This revolver was flat-out AWFUL. Its accuracy was terrible, and its recoil was of a high level, causing the gun to jump. No matter what firing stance Luke took, or how tightly he clutched the grip of the revolver, nothing helped improve his accuracy.
After the final round was expelled from the firearm, Luke's face was beat red in anger and embarrassment, and steam was practically emitting from his body. For comedic effect, as the man was fuming in anger, the sound of a teapot whistling could be heard. The next sound effect to play during the War Veteran's Rage could best be described as:
'1930s Work Whistle Angry'.
With a quick flick of the wrist, he held the revolver and yelled:
"THIS GRANDPA REVOLVER, SUCKS!!!" In a voice of pure annoyance, disappointment, and fury at the firearm's more than subpar performance. With all the force he could muster with his right arm, he ferociously flung the silver revolver out the window, which miraculously, managed to strike a shambling walker right on its forehead, and somehow was able to cause the zombie to fall to the ground, although it got back up and staggered towards the RV.
Chase, Christopher, and Samuel were all dying of laughter upon hearing their comrade's burst of anger. Even though he was calm, collected, and had a bit of a goofy streak most of the time, they had known Luke for long enough that it was only a matter of time before someone or something blew his lid, and in the zombie apocalypse, that was very much understandable.
"It's about time he got rid of that revolver and switched back to full auto." Chase said as he witnessed his pal, switch back to going Full Metal Jacket with his MG 42.
"What was so bad about that revolver?" Christopher asked, genuinely curious to whether it was a severe skill issue on Luke's end, or was the revolver that bad.
"Samuel, what the hell are you doing? Whamming your goddamn ham?! What in the name of Tim Buck fuck is taking you so long to hotwire this bitch?!" Chase exclaimed in confusion as he was wondering what was taking his pal so long to hotwire the RV and get it moving.
"Hold on man, I'm sorry! It's just been a while since I've hotwired a car, just give me a few minutes!" was Samuel's rebuttal.
"Uhhhh, I'm sorry to break it to you Sam, but it's WORLD WAR Z outside the RV!" Christopher pointed out, panicked.
In the back of the RV, Luke was still firing his MG 42 at the horde of the undead. He then decided to put down his gun, and take out a grenade.
"Luke, get into the family room and cover us!" Christopher told Luke in a Drill Sergeant voice.
But before he did anything -
"FIRE IN THE- OH SHIT!" Luke yelled
Perhaps it was the stress of being surrounded by zombies, or he was still angry because of the lackluster performance of the revolver he had, but... When he pulled the pin and threw his grenade, the grenade just so happened to not be hurled out the window, and hit a wall of the RV, and landed on the floor of the RV, landing near the bed and under Luke's... Cherries... His eyes widened, his skin turned pale, and he was sweating buckets... It was pretty obvious his pants were stained with piss and he had a brick of shit in his pants.
He only had about 5 seconds before he could possibly get Violently Castrated by the grenade's blast of shrapnel under his groin...
"You know, Sam? Why not let me hotwire it, it's pretty clear that you can't-" Chase commented before being cut off by-
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Luke yelled frantically, as he ran out of the bedroom of the RV, and charged into the family room/living space of the RV, MG 42 in hand.
The boys didn't assume anything except for that, Luke threw a grenade out of the window and yelled out the familiar warning phrase of a lice grenade being thrown.
Then...
BOOOOM!!!
The GMC Motorhome violently shook as a loud explosion rang out. A large portion of the rear corner of the vehicle had a hole blown in it, and was set on fire.
"What happened?!" Samuel asked, alarmed as he jolted up from the driver's seat. He hadn't managed
"Holy scheisse!" Christopher exclaimed, in shock.
"Ahhh! Is it the Russians?!" Chase asked, paranoid, his eyes wide, and him rotating from side to side with his rifle.
Christopher sniffed the air. "Why do I smell something burning?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Uhm... Why is the back of the RV on fire?" Samuel questioned, eyebrow raised.
Luke looked embarrassed but felt like he had to admit.
"I... Kinda... Well... I tried to throw a grenade out the window, it hit the wall and I nearly lost my balls-" Luke said, clearly embarrassed of him getting laughed at and (possibly) bitched by his friends.
Chase, Christopher, and Samuel all stared at Luke in awkward silence before bursting out into laughter.
"Oh my god, you dumbass!" Chase said in between laughs.
Luke just looked away, blushing red. He wasn't angry at his friends, it was a completely normal response to laugh at someone who had done something so goofy or stupid. He just took it on the chin and did his best to be a good sport.
"Wait, the RV's on fire! This vehicle has had it! Everyone out!" Christopher yelled out in his Commando voice, snapping back to the realization that this RV was ablaze.
The four fired their guns at any zombie that stood outside the RV and then ran out. After running out of the burning RV, the four heard a loud explosion, and turned their heads, to see the RV completely engulfed in flames. They were very lucky they had made it a safe distance away from the blast radius.
One of the RV's tires had been blasted off from the explosion, which flew and hit the back of Luke's helmet, causing him to scream and fall, dropping his MG 42. Christopher's eyes filled with worry as he saw his comrade fall.
"Scheisse, Luke, are you alright?!" He asked as he helped his friend to his feet and picked his gun back up.
"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you," Luke said while he nodded, giving his friend a sincere smile and a salute out of respect.
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Christopher returned the salute and smiled, before handing the MG 42 back to its owner.
"What's our plan now?" Samuel asked Christopher
"Never let Luke use grenades again, period, I mean, what kind of clumsy hobgoblin of a man has an aim that shitty? I bet if Steven Hawking and Helen Keller fucked and had a child, that kid would still be able to be a pitcher for major league instead of your Goofy Ass!" Chase mocked Luke.
Christopher and Samuel chuckled and snickered a bit at their response.
"Alright, fine, I'll make up for my mistake, you guys go find a holdout position, and I'll go find a car so we can get out of here!" Luke replied.
He was a little bit insecure that, if he didn't do anything to make up for his goofy grenade blunder, Chase would keep mocking him.
"What?! What are you talking about?" Samuel asked, looking confused as he tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow at his friend.
"You heard me, you guys go find somewhere to hold up in, and I'll come back with a car!" Luke responded
"Luke, you need me to go with you, comrade?" Christopher asked.
"No, I've got this," Luke replied, before running off into the night, trying to find a vehicle.
"Well, shit..." Chase said.
"Come on, what the fuck are you doing just standing there?! We got to get to a firing position!" Christopher yelled in a voice imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger.
"Follow me if you want to live!" Christopher exclaimed, still putting on his Arnold Schwarzenneger voice, before running off through the neighborhood.
Without question, Chase and Samuel ran after Christopher, with their guns drawn. As Christopher led the duo behind him, he squeezed the trigger of the MP 40 and heard a click.
"Scheisse..." He said under his breath. It was clear his SMG had run out of ammo, and it wasn't a safe place to reload his gun out in the open where zombies were everywhere.
Then, he noticed something that could possibly be of use. Lying down beside a Police S.W.A.T. Truck, was the body of a deceased S.W.A.T. officer, with a riot shield laying beside him.
Christopher put his empty MP 40 in his backpack and then ran over to the corpse, and picked up the shield with both of his hands. He couldn't help but feel respect for the deceased officer, as he raised a hand in salute.
"I'm sorry officer, but... You won't be needing this anymore." Chris said.
As Christopher wielded the shield, which was a black, rectangular shield with the words "SWAT" in large, bold, white letters, he put on his war face.
"HOO-AHHH!!!" Christopher shouted aggressively, as he charged at a group of three, staggering zombies, his hands tightly gripping the two handles of the riot shield. Chase and Samuel were amazed at Christopher's belligerence and valiance as he wielded the riot shield as if their pal was a medieval knight on a quest to slay a dragon.
The three zombies turned their heads, moaned, and growled as they stared at Christopher. As Christopher ran with his shield and yelled his war cry, he pummeled all three zombies to the ground.
"Alle, folgt mir!" yelled Chris. (Translation: "Everyone, follow me!")
"We have no idea what you're saying, but... Alrighty then..." Samuel remarked.
"Crap, I'm out of ammo!" Chase said frantically
"We'll reload when we get to a safe spot, we're sitting ducks out here!" Christopher replied
Christopher was essentially the battering ram of the trio, as he wielded his riot shield, shoving zombies out of his way left and right.
"Damn, check out S.W.A.T. Officer Chris! The man's putting in the work!" Samuel commented, astonished about Christopher's bravery.
The best way to describe the riot shield-equipped Chris, was Audie Murphy. Sure, he might have been the smallest guy in the group, but he made up for it with his courage, loyalty, and selflessness.
The duo witnessed Christopher swing his shield at a zombie, striking it in the head and causing it to fall on its back before he said:
"Beweg dich, Schlampe, geh uns aus dem Weg!" Christopher barked
(Translation: "Move, bitch, get out of our way!")
"Where are we even going?!" Chase replied in a panicked tone, as he turned his head in every direction, keeping his head on a swivel. He felt very exposed, they were out in the open where zombies were everywhere, he and Christopher had run out of ammo, and god knows where their fourth member, Luke, had gone in his search for an operational vehicle.
"Over there!" Christopher shouted, pointing at a house. The house was a Two-Story home with a front balcony, white picket fence, and sitting in the driveway was an old, rusty car with faded blue paint. (The car was a 1957 Plymouth Belvedere, 4-Door Hardtop Sedan to be exact.)
The house's front lawn and driveway were devoid of zombies, which was a clear indicator for the men that it was a good place to seek shelter in. Samuel ran past Chris, opened the door, and signaled his friends to run inside.
"¡Ándale ¡Ándale" Samuel exclaimed, wanting his friends to be safe and sound inside the house. (Translation: "Come along! Come along!" [OR] "Hurry up! Hurry up!")
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" Chase shouted out as if he was a S.W.A.T. Officer or military commando leading a squadron about to storm a building.
As soon as Christopher and Chase ran in, Samuel slammed the door shut, which shook the entire house, before he locked it. Once again, as if it were instinctual after every empty home they ran in to seek shelter, the three men grabbed heavy objects within the home to barricade the front door.
"Let's get up to the balcony! It'll be a good vantage point, and we'll probably see whatever car Luke pulls up in, hurry!" Christopher exclaimed.
Christopher ran up the stairs, his friends following behind him, as they ran up to the second floor of the house, and up to the balcony.
"YA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA YA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA DO-DE-DA-VA-DA-DA-DADA!" Samuel began to sing in the voice of the Heavy Weapons Guy from TF2 on repeat as he fired his AKM Assault Rifle at the zombies below.
But then, his AKM ran out of ammo, as he heard the clicks the trigger made when he squeezed it, signaling he had an empty magazine. A sad frown came across Samuel's face.
"Aw, man... If only I had a minigun..." He said.
"Holy hell..." Chase said as he looked down the balcony. The streets were filled with hordes of the undead.
"Guys?" Christopher asked his friends.
Chase and Samuel turned to face, Christopher.
"Yeah, man?" Samuel replied.
"This only means one thing..." Christopher said...
A determined, and slightly daring smile was plastered across Christopher's face before he inserted another full magazine into his MP 40.
As if Christopher was a Viking about to stampede toward the enemy, he yelled out:
"GOTT MIT UNS!!!" (Translation: "GOD WITH US!!!")
After his shout, Chase and Samuel were visibly taken back as they stepped backward a bit. Christopher then jumped off the railing of the balcony, and onto the roof of the rusty car that sat in the driveway, and sprayed Parabellum rounds at the surrounding zombies. Then, Christopher turned his head back to his friends who were still on top of the balcony, his aggressive smile turning back to a friendly one, and he asked in the most polite, non-hostile voice:
"Hey, Uhh... Could one of you guys grab my shield, please? I'd like to take it as a souvenir if we... Uhm... Ever get out of this godforsaken land as a team..." Christopher said in a slightly awkward but humble manner.
Chase and Samuel stared at each other in humble confusion. It was as if they had discovered their buddy, Christopher, who they'd known since the 1st Grade had a "Split Personality". One moment, Christopher could be shy, humble, and quiet, but the next, he could go into 'Commando Mode' and shout orders in German and run into danger without a second thought.
"Sure thing, man, I'd like to have a go with the shield," Chase said as he grabbed the riot shield
"Well, you heard the man... I guess it's time to go..." Samuel replied.
Chase put on a daring smile, grabbed the riot shield, jumped onto the railing of the balcony, and jumped off of the balcony.
"BOMBS AWAY, AUSTIN 3:16!!!" Chase yelled. As he was in midair, he slammed a zombie's face with the riot shield. The zombie was pummeled to the ground but was not dead, as it slowly tried to stand back up. The blow from Chase's riot shield swing was so hard, it actually knocked a few teeth out of the mouth of this zombie.
Samuel quickly reloaded his AKM with another magazine and hopped from the balcony and into the driveway, taking cover and firing from behind the rusty car.
"Where the hell is Luke? What's taking him so long?" Samuel commented.
Luke's POV:
Running through the streets, all alone, was the war veteran of the bunch, his long, black hair having the wind blow through. He kept his head on a swivel, his heavy combat boots thumping across the ground. It was very difficult for him to find a car... The criteria for a car he wanted to steal, was for one that could seat four grown men.
Dozens of cars lay abandoned in the streets, tightly jam-packed together like sardines in a tin, while other cars were wrecked or completely flipped over on their sides or roofs. Then, he spotted a car that fit his criteria: A 1997 Plymouth Grand Voyager, a 5-Door Minivan painted in a shade of purple known as 'Deep Amethyst'. Now, why the hell would he go for a minivan of all cars?
[https://pics.imcdb.org/17474/amazoncom_watchstuckinthesuburbs_primevideo-googlechrome2_17_20199_15_41am.jpg]
Well, almost every single car in the neighborhood was either packed tightly like a bunch of Tetris blocks or completely wrecked. The minivan appeared to be in perfect shape, and it was parked on the sidewalk, away from the jam-packed cars that lay abandoned on the road. Luke ran to the van and pulled the handle. A dreadful expression crossed his face when he realized it was locked.
This worried expression of his faded, and was soon replaced with a confident smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lockpick. He turned his head to make sure no zombies were trying to sneak up on him, and he nearly shit himself as he let out another loud, primal scream of fear.
Although it didn't grab him by and take a bite out of his ankle (yet), there was a zombie known as an Ankle Biter or a Crawler. It was a zombie that had been split in half by the waist down and dragged itself forward with its arms. To describe the appearance of this zombie, it appeared to be a woman, their face wrinkled and gray, with the flesh on its right cheek melting as if it was cheese on a pizza.
It had frazzled, dirty, and tangled hair, and to Luke, this former human-turned-zombie looked like a crackhead you'd see at 7-Eleven begging you for a dollar. He cringed as he saw the zombie have its insides trail along the ground, leaving a blood trail and an awful smell. He knew what had to be done, raising his MG 42, and spraying the head of the zombie with Mauser ammunition, killing it, and the zombies closest to him.
When he believed he was a safe enough distance away from the zombies, he began his work. After fiddling with his lockpick, he managed to unlock the driver-side door, and to his luck, the car alarm did not go off, because if it did, it would've attracted zombies. Before he got in the car, he took off the backpack and shield on his back and placed both in the passenger seat of the car, and placed his MG 42 in the backseat, before hopping in, slamming, and closing the door.
He then opened the compartment under the dashboard, removed the covering of the steering column, and was greeted by multiple wires. He then took out a pocket knife from his duffel bag and delicately did his best to cut the protective insulation of one of the wires of the minivan. After a few seconds, he managed to cut and expose the bare wire.
He then grabbed the shield in the passenger seat and turned it around to its back side, revealing the high-end car battery. He then adjusted a dial on the car battery, and this caused the three bare wires attached to the battery to shoot out small sparks of electricity. He dragged the wire from the minivan and one of the wires attached to the car battery, and when they made contact, the car's engine came to life. A triumphant smirk came across his face, and he turned the car battery's dial down so it wouldn't cause its connected wires to shoot sparks.
Luke's triumphant smile soon turned into a dastardly evil grin, as he let out a devious and diabolical evil laugh. He had cracked the code of hotwiring minivans (or just cars in general) all with the help of a lockpick, pocket knife, a high-end car battery, and some exposed wires. He then stopped laughing and a fearful expression came over his face... He remembered: He COULDN'T leave his friends behind!!!
"Oh crap!" he exclaimed.
He then slammed his foot on the gas pedal and took off down the sidewalk, avoiding all the abandoned cars on the road. He didn't care as he hit and ran over a few zombies, who, a perfect analogy would be: As he witnessed the zombies in the minivan's way, all they did was stare at him like Grand Theft Auto NPCs when you were about to mow them down with a car at full speed.
Back with Chase, Christopher, and Samuel...
Chase was leading the charge, pummeling down zombies with the riot shield he had.
Christopher and Samuel fired their guns at the zombies.
"CHASE, WATCH OUT, A HEADCRAB!!!" Samuel loudly warned.
Chase looked in front of him to see a headcrab flying in his direction. With one swift swipe, he swung the riot shield and deflected the headcrab off of it, killing it. Headcrabs were annoying, yet fragile abominations. A very small amount of bullets were needed to dispatch them, and melee weapons would do just the trick into killing them, unlike regular zombies.
"Hey, thanks, man!" Chase said with a smile as he looked back at Samuel and gave him a thumbs up.
"No problem Chase, but get your head back in the game, we don't need you gettin' distracted," Samuel replied
Chase nodded in agreement at Samuel's reply, faced forwards once more, and resumed being the battering ram for his friends, using the shield to deflect and swing at zombies once more.
"Down this alley! Down this alley!" directed Christopher as he signaled his friends to run down an alley in between houses. The alleyway had few zombies in it, much fewer than the amount encountered within the streets of the neighborhood. Then, as the trio all ran into the alley, they heard the sound of an engine and saw headlights shine up ahead, along with the silhouette of a vehicle. They all squinted to try and get a better look at who the driver of this automobile was.
"Is that... Luke?" Christopher asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"What's the man doing in a minivan?" Samuel questioned, also raising his eyebrow.
Out of everyone the trio knew, Luke, a hardened Ex-Lieutenant General, would be the very last person they would think to see behind the wheel of a minivan. They saw as their friend accelerated down the alleyway, and slammed on the brakes, causing the tires to squeal.
"Guys, get in!" Luke ordered in a frantic voice after rolling down the window.
"Luke? Out of all the cars lying about the streets during the zombie apocalypse, you could've stolen a friggin' Camaro, Cadillac, or even one of them fancy German cars, and you decide to go straight for a goddamn Soccer Mom minivan? A Purple one at that?" Chase snarkily said in a hillbilly accent.
This infuriated Luke, a car was a car, he stole a vehicle that would at least seat four grown men decently (and comfortably if he was lucky). He had personally gone out of his way to find a vehicle to make up for his motorhome grenade fiasco.
"KOJ RUAM! NKAG MUS LOS YOG TAWM, LOS YOG KUV YUAV TAWM KOJ QAB!" Luke barked. In the tone he spoke, he spoke in the voice of a Hmong father scolding his child.
[Author's Note: Trust me, I've experienced this many times.]
(Translation: "YOU FOOL! GET IN OR GET OUT, OR I'LL LEAVE YOU BEHIND!")
Chase, Christopher, and Samuel were all taken aback by their friend's outburst. Clearly, he wasn't serious, right? Despite Chase and Samuel having no idea what Luke said, the expression on his face and the tone he yelled displayed that he wasn't playing any games.
Without another complaint, all three entered the minivan and got in their seats. Christopher claimed the shotgun seat next to his buddy, and Chase and Samuel swung the rear minivan doors open, keeping them open so they could open fire on any incoming zombies.
Christopher rolled down the window of the passenger side door and shot out the window with his gun.
"Stamp out of here, Luke!" Samuel exclaimed while firing his assault rifle out the minivan doors.
He didn't need to be told twice, he slammed his heavy combat boot onto the gas pedal, and the purple Plymouth minivan launched forwards, its tires squealing.
"I hope this thing's a comfy ride, this is the Special Edition (SE) trim, not the Base model," Luke said in a calm, casual voice, commenting on how, the vehicle they were driving was not at all a stripped-down, bare-bones Base model, and was the fully-equipped, Special Edition or SE trim of the '97 Grand Voyager.
"I guess that's a good thing, right?" Christopher asked while firing his gun at nearby zombies.
"Base Model or not, at least we've finally got wheels!" Samuel remarked.
"Hey Luke, you better not fuckin' kamikaze and kill us all, we know you can't drive, especially how you crash all over the place in GTA," Chase said
"I am 5% more inclined to intentionally crash after hearing that," Luke replied in a dull, emotionless voice. They were approaching an intersection and one of the buildings was a Chevron gas station.
"Luke, please! Take this seriously! We don't wanna die out here!" Christopher responded in a frantic tone.
"I was just kidding, I'm not a psychopath," Luke remarked in a voice that displayed sincerity and more emotion than his previous quote.
Christopher let out a sigh of relief as they floored it straight past the gas station because he knew for a fact if Luke held the truth (and enough psychotic tendencies) to follow through with his claim of being '5% more inclined to intentionally crash' after hearing what Chase had to say, Luke would've crashed the minivan into a gas pump and the four would've all died in a fiery explosion.
As the van picked up speed, and the four noticed in the distance, the sight of houses slowly began to decrease, and other buildings such as apartments, multi-story buildings, and stores began to appear more commonly. The four men grew more hopeful that they would escape the zombie-infested city.
"We're getting outta here boys! We're getting outta here boys!" Samuel shouted with glee, as he continued to fire his rifle.
But then... The four were ambushed! They all heard a demented and insane yell, and...
CRASH!!!
A red, humanoid being jumped and sprawled across the front window of the minivan...
The being wore a shredded gray T-Shirt, and torn, blue jeans... It possessed two bulging eyes that rolled in their sockets, and a grin of pure madness plastered across its face, with a wide, toothy grin. Its skin was reddish-brown, with pieces of its flesh torn from its body. It let out a manic, psychotic grin as its eyes were staring at the four men, causing the quartet to scream in horror.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAAAAAT?!?!?!" Luke yelled in utter horror.
(The End of AVCSS S01E1 Part IV... To Be Continued...)