We pulled over and everyone except Warren and I got out of the truck.
"Gee, if we only had a mechanic." Murphy said sarcastically. At this I got out of the truck and walked over to the engine. 10k was under the vehicle and Doc was near the front.
"Look for bubbles" I said to 10k.
"Nope, it's the hose" He replied. I nodded even though he couldn't see me, I took off my backpack and grabbed the duct tape sliding it to him. Next I grabbed my water bottle and dumped the rest into the radiator. The others did the same. I walked over to Murphy and shoved him up against the truck's side.
"Don't you ever talk about Warren that way again. My father died saving your ass. Now be a good lab rat and shut your mouth and behave or I will personally see to it that your mouth gets sewn together and it's very uncomfortable for you the rest of the way to California." I spoke threateningly. 10k sprouted up from under the truck while Addy and Macky left to go do whatever I wasn't paying much attention. We all got back into the truck and I sat in the back with Warren and Cassandra. I snuggled into my last remaining parent and she brushed my hair with her hands. 10k was driving, if you can call it that, and the other two were in the front. When we came to a split we went right. Doc started reading off the signs and they started joking around. We pulled up to a town looking thing. Murphy read a sign out loud that said guns and liquor. Warren popped up at the sound of alcohol.
"Welcome to S&S Limited, the finest gun show in the west. Entry fee is seven." the lady wearing a cowboy hat told us as we approached.
"Seven what" Doc asked.
"Bullets. Oxy. Grams of whatever DIY super fun time substance you got." She responded. Doc mentioned some crystal in the truck.
"Back off with the toilet bowl cleanser meth. We only take that genuine vein splittin' take you right out of this beautiful apocalypse and into a hell-hole meth." some scruffy guy with a tall hat spoke out.
"Well slap my ass and call me Sally if it ain't Sketchy McClain. How'd you get way out here?" Doc reunited with his old friend.
"Uh, over there is the FU-Bar. Home to the finest and probably actually the only corn whiskey and moonshine between here and the Miss-" Warren darted off to the bar after he said that's where it was. "Whoa. Somebody's thirsty." I shook my head.
"Listen man, we need a new vehicle. Ours is dying a slow death. You think you could help us out? You know, for old time's sake?"
"No can do, my friend. I'm an entrepreneur, not a philanthropist. But there might be a way you can help yourself. Our first annual live zombie shooting contest." He spoke out to our group.
"What's the prize?" 10k asked.
"Hey, Vernon. Show our friends here first prize." Sketchy said, his skinnier friend going into the back. He came back with a sniper that made me uncross my arms.
"Is that a 50 caliber M82 Barret?" I said at the same time 10k did. We looked at each other and I let out a laugh. I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked down.
"Genuine. Plus we'll even throw in a few hundred rounds of shells." Sketchy continued.
"Seems like a little overkill." Doc commented.
"Yeah. But there's a lot of guys who like their toys. A lot of guys who might be willing to trade a vehicle for a sweet piece of steel like that 50. You know what I mean?"
"Where do I sign up?" we spoke at the same time again.
"Ok it was cute the first time now it's just creepy." Murphy said and walked off towards the bar.
"You think you got what it takes, kids?"
"This kid could kill a Z at 50 yards away with a rubber band and a paperclip. And she's one hell of a shot with a gun, sniper or otherwise." Doc praised us.
"All right. Sign ups in the FU-Bar. If you do win and you want to trade it for a bad mama jama vehicle, you wanna talk to a guy named Wannamaker. Oh and if you want side action talk to Vernon. But do not bet against that guy." he pointed to an older man cleaning his gun. "Darren Cooper. Ex Ranger Sniper. Fifty confirmed kills in Afghanistan. Lethal as they come." he told us, both me and 10k taking his stance. We all walked over to the bar and found Warren drinking without stopping. Doc and Murphy started talking to each other. I walked over to where Warren was and sat down. I tapped my fingers on the bar and a glass was given to me. Grabbing the cup and downing the contents, sighing when it left a slight burn.
"Anybody know anybody in here named Wannamaker?" Doc yelled out to everyone in the bar.
"Who wants to know?" the bartender asked filling my glass up again.
"Oh, we're just lookin' to trade. You know just a little business. Yeah, my friend said he might have a vehicle." Doc said taking my glass from me and drinking it.
"Hey" I said in protest.
"Yeah. Wannamaker's got cars." The bartender said ignore my drink thief.
"Do you know where he is? Uh, hey! Uh, hello!" Doc went over to the guy laying underneath a table.
"He's not gonna wake up. Once Wannamaker's down, he's down. Check back in forty-eight hours." the guy sitting above the table said.
"Well what about you? You look like a car man." Doc said trying to get deal for our slowly dying truck.
"I don't drive cars. I drive machines." he responded back.
"Any, uh, any machine you'd be willing to let go of?" Doc asked him.
"Depends." he paused, eyes landing on Cassandra. I joined my group in case something went down. "What do you got to trade?" he said, his eyes falling onto me. Cassandra flipped him off and he smirked. "Don't worry, darlin'. You're not worth it. She might be though." i grimace at the thought "Ain't nothing as sweet as the Formanmobile." 10k pulled me behind him, blocking the forman's view.
"What about that 50 caliber first prize?" Doc changed the subject off his female group members.
"Ha! Even if you do win, and that's a big if, the Formanmobile is not for sale. Bio-diesel. Solar-powered. Quiet as they come. Kitchen. Bathroom. Fully regenerative internal plumbing system complete with marine grade PEX fittings. Built in, we got an NSV machine gun, flame thrower, cattle gun, grenade launcher, doom whistle, plus the usual wheel spikes, all that. Look at me teasin' ya. Ain't no way you're getting your hands on my baby." He rambled off I wasn't paying much attention.
"Oh, okay. Well he's drunk. Let's go get you signed up, kids." Doc spoke, turning us around. There was a beautiful girl my age who passed us and I couldn't help but stare. She looked and 10k and then to me. Once we put the truck down as our fee we left for the shooting grounds. 10k tried to introduce himself to the beautiful girl.
"Don't need to know your name to kick your ass." She responded.
"Then this should be easy for me." I said passing her and getting settled.
"Registered shooters! Please hit your marks on the designated firing line! All right, this first round takes place 100 yards out. When I announce the target Z, you aim. When I say fire, you shoot. If you miss, you're out. This is sudden death, people. Cuz there ain't no other way these days." Sketchy explained the rules. "Skeezy over here's gonna be the judge. And what the judge says is final." Oh lord. With him judging there is no certainty that both of us will stay in it.
"You ready, shooters?! Let's... kill... some... zombies!" he hyped up the crowd, them cheering for their respected person. "Round one! There's the first target right there. Hippie dude with the long hair. Fire!"
Looking through my scope I found the hippie towards the front and fired my gun, my bullet going straight through his head. People cheered but another zombie fell too.
"All right, who shot grandma? Voorhees, you're out!" a middle aged man got up and joined the crowd.
"Next target! Hipster with the sweatpants! Fire!" we all did so he fell to his knees before I shot and hit the target. This is childsplay. Gunshots went off, not from us and I looked at 10k. The guy who Sketchy was worried about against us, turned, each of the remaining contestants shot him, giving him mercy.
"We got six contestants left. Next target. Cowboy hat. Fire!" We did and the ex cowboy dropped to the ground, two shots missed.
"Snyder, you're out. Mulligan, you're out. Good shootin', Mulligan. Better luck next year. If there is a next year." thats what happens when you get old.
"All right, we got four contestants left! So let's up the ante and let's take it out to 400 yards!" Sketchy said as we adjusted our weapons. And shot a zombie. Everyone hit.
"All right, we got four contestants left. Let's up the ante! Let's take her out 500 yards!" The girl struck up a conversation with 10k but I just ignored her focusing on the task at hand. "The dude with the coveralls! Fire!" The older guy was removed and now all that remained were the three teenagers. Must hurt their pride getting beat by such young people. Especially two females.
"Zombies. Zombies inside the perimeter!" someone yelled.
"Okay, listen up everybody. We... we need a few people to go check and clean up some Zs and see what's going on at the perimeter." Sketchy announced.
"Look people, no one's gonna win anything unless we stop these Zs from spoiling our fun! All right?" Skeezy explained, panic in his voice.
"Okay! We're 500 yards out, and we can't go any further! So best shot wins!" we each cocked out guns. "This is for all the cookies! First up! The judge! Fire!" Sketchy announced.
"Ladies first." 10k said being polite.
"Screw you. I'm no lady." she responded.
"Figures" I said aiming my gun. I fired first, then 10k. She followed after.
"Two bullets, one hole. I'm callin' it a draw." There's no way. The chances of that are insane.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Ladies and gentlemen. We got ourselves a barn burner here. This thing's going into sudden death overtime! So come on over and see me and put down your bets before the next round!" Sketchy said taking people's bets. A lot more zombies came some freshly turned. I glanced over at 10k fear was painted onto his face.
"You first. I'll clean up." she said. She is very cocky.
A/N:yall its my birthday today so i updated! Have a wonderful day guys!!