The roads were filled with burning or wreaked cars, destrioed buildings, and of course people running and screaming. Only to die seconds later by the claws of the canine monsters.
Of course that made trying to get to the freeway way harder than any suborn streetlights and elderly drivers could ever dream of doing. Plus infinitely more dangerous.
I managed to get all the way to the ramp that led to the freeway, and the ocean.
Then the destruction I spoke of had made a wall of metal, glass, and bodies. And it wasn't like I was driving something powerful enough to smash through that.
Or could I?
You ever see a scary movie? And that part were the main charter is in danger, yet suddenly finds a contently placed object to help them in their time of need?
Well as it so happens, their was a still standing big rig truck nearby
You can't get much bigger and stronger that that on the road.
Of course getting to it was a challenge in of itself
I grabbed Smokey, whipped out one of my dads pistols and dashed out of my car. Blasting anything that moved in the darkess
If I were play a Call of Duty game, you'd believe I was a big-time noob.
Yet I guess even noobs can get a lucky break once in a while.
Just glad I got mine now. I managed to hit a few wolves, which gave me and Smokey the time to get in the truck.
Thankfully it still had the keys to, and the drivers dismembered arm. I did puke just then get the growling of a wolf that lept on my trucks hood removed my sickness
I cranked the keys, put it in drive, and floored it so hard I'd worried I may have busted the gas.
The wolf was tossed of the truck and I smashed through the blocked path. Obliterating the puny cars with my monster of a truck
Even the freeway was filled with chaos, metal and blood everywhere on the asphalt
I began to doubt my giant truck could take so much punishment, and that could fight off the countless lycans still trying to get at me and my dog. It's really hard to drive and reload a gun. Glad I had an extra mag at least, yet I knew that wouldn't last to long.
I continued at top speed, it was a straight line to the water from here, the freeway turned back into residential street after a bit. No more ramps.
Ramming my mastodon vehicle through wolf and car alike, all while busting cap after cap in any more canine that attacked my car
One got on the passenger side and ripped the door off
Smokey I said letting go of the wheel and grabbing my dog as I fired every bullet I had left in my gun at the werewolf, its body flying out back upon the road
Sadly this moment of panic caused my truck to nearly drive off a bridge. I cranked the wheel a hard as I ever did with any car. I'm just glad it didn't have a bed attached to it
I'd surely have gone off the road and blown up.
Yet I regained control and sped on
Their were a few people still alive on the freeway I noticed, injured or trapped in their cars.
I still look back at what I did that night.
I remember in church, the story of The Good Samaritan.
How that man helped that poor guy who got attacked by robbers
Yet I was more like two people who passed the hurt man before the Samaritan.
I tried justifying it, as we all do when we act wicked. That Samaritan guy wasn't running for his life from hell-hound man beasts after all.
Yet how many people did I leave for death? Tens? Hundreds even?
It still makes me sick when I look back on it. Kill or be killed rule or not
It shouldn't just be me and Smokey on this boat. To those looking up at me from Heaven, I'm sorry.
Now please allow me to continue my story