Death Role

The Truck Stop

Luke trudged on weary feet and gripped a nail-studded and blood-covered baseball bat in his right hand. He’d finally made it out of the city; the city that had taken his entire family and all of his friends. Others, equally worn and devastated, traveled the road with him toward a dim light on the horizon.

As he grew closer to the light he found its source, a truck stop. It still looked to be functioning too, with semis coming and going at regular intervals. Some fifteen rigs were parked in a large semicircle, effectively enclosing the rest area and protecting it’s visitors from the wandering dead. A small space between two of the colossal machines allowed vehicles in and out.

He walked through the opening and into a cafe set in the middle of the lot. None of the drivers raised their heads to make eye contact, but Luke thought nothing of it since truckers were usually unfriendly.

He propped his weapon against the dirty dining counter, dirty enough to leave him unconcerned about blood transfer from the bat. “You got any coffee?” Luke asked the waitress with hope. Really, anything warm would be appreciated but he needed to find a second wind, even if artificially.

“Coffee’s for the drivers,” the woman said without apology. “You ok with hot lemon water?”

It sounded disgusting, a lie in a cup, but it was better than nothing. “Sure?” Luke replied, fairly certain he didn’t have a choice. She brought him a styrofoam cup filled with the lukewarm, flavored water. After forcing himself to guzzle it, the truck stop no longer felt like a refuge or even an overnight option. He crushed the cup and went back outside to look for the friendliest trucker he could find.

“Is it possible to get a ride out of here?” he asked a man in dirty jeans and a puffy-looking winter jacket.

The man hesitated and looked around at some of the other drivers before responding. “That truck right there,” the man said pointing to an all black rig at the far end of the lot, “it’ll take you…to safety.”

“No shit?” Luke asked, eager to believe the man. The lemon water hadn’t done much for him, but the news of a ride further from the city warmed his body to the core.

The man nodded. “Climb in the passenger seat, don’t ask any questions. You’ll be free of this in no time.”v

To Luke, it sounded too good to be true. “Why haven’t you left?” he asked the man.

“It’s not my time yet,” the man said, avoiding Luke’s eyes. “’Sides, I’ve got to help folks like you.”

“Well, thanks man,” Luke said, shaking his hand. “I owe you one.”

“It’s nothing, really,” the man responded weakly.

Luke approached the all black semi and climbed into the cab. Only when it was too late did he notice that things weren’t right. A wall made out of thick caging material separated him from the driver and as soon as he closed his door, the locked clicked closed. Metal bars emerged from either side of his seat and wrapped around his body.

“What the fuck?” Luke yelled, grabbing at the restraints. A man, one of the truckers from the cafe, slid behind the wheel and started the engine. He pulled the semi out of the truck stop and made a giant u-turn on the roadway. They were driving back into the fallen city, its streets full of the undead.

“Where the hell are you taking me? I want out! Take me back!” Luke screamed. He kicked his legs against the dashboard hoping to get the driver’s attention, but it didn’t work. His baseball bat was out of reach, rolling around somewhere at his feet.

He knew when they’d crossed the bridge into downtown. The air was filled with moans, the stench of death so thick it found its way into the cab. Out the window he saw the hospital, one of the most overrun areas of the city. The driver pulled the semi to the curb in front of the medical center and, to his horror, the passenger side door swung open.

“No,nonononononon. Oh, fuck, NO!” Luke felt his bladder release. He’d been close to death before, but never this close and never so incapable of escape.

A mechanical whir started up and his seat began to extend sideways out of the cab. The dead reached for him with rotting hands. Luke looked back to his bat. The seat rotated until he was facing the crowd of infected. He closed his eyes and hoped his death would be quick.

The metal restraints opened, dumping him into the center of the mix.

The driver watched for a moment and then brought the seat back in. He picked up his CB radio and spoke into the handset. “Hey dispatch, made that delivery. Over.”