Joel’s Journal – 12/10/2015

20120307_DTW_0202My Life with the Undead – Part 3

NOTE: Hey everyone, here’s the third instalment in my ongoing fiction/non-fiction series. I just wanted to point out the amazing shot my brother Daniel provided for the cover of this series. Check out some of his stuff of Instagram, the kids got skill.

Also, if you missed the first two parts of this story, check them out below. Other then that, enjoy!

Part 1Part 2My Life with the Undead logo

I couldn’t think as I sped out of the square.

I watched as the kids faded in my rearview mirror. The lady with the stroller had disappeared around a corner and the streets were absolutely empty. It was like the citizens of Oshawa had decided to take the day off from life.

I must have missed the memo.

The thought makes me laugh slightly, but the odd nervous giggle that comes out of my mouth is eerie sounding and I stop it immediately.

Taking a deep breath, I try to relax, I grip the steering wheel with both hands and jerk the wheel around the latest turn. I try to figure out whether I should call the cops or not, but then I remember the look in their eyes.

That vacant stare, like they didn’t really know what they were doing, but just doing it anyways.

Ripped perhaps? It was a bad part of Oshawa, maybe they’d all hit some kind of bad batch and were all freaking out.

I shook my head, how stupid was that? I’d seen enough horror movies to have an idea of what was going on.

Now was about the time the character would do something really stupid, as the audience silently yelled at them for being so fucking stupid.

But was I being fucking stupid? This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible.

Using the steering wheel as a prop I pushed myself back further into the soft seat, trying to relax the frigid nerves and stiff muscles in my back. I may as well have been trying to put out a house fire by pissing on it.

Every time I tried to reason out the kids in the park and their behaviour, my mind went back to the lady from apartment four. It had to be connected in some way, right?

Pressing my foot down on the gas I rounded the bend on Centre Street back to Simcoe, my mind set on getting back to the office and trying to figure this out, then the mountain of metal appeared.

I slammed on the breaks, the impact sending a jolt up my leg.

Breathe in.

I leaned forward.

Cars, hundreds of them, like the entire rush hour population in Oshawa had decided to converge on the intersection all at the same time. Twisted masses of metal, scraped paint, tires and rearview mirror all piled on top of one another like some sort of modern art sculpture.

The cars on the bottom were nearly flattened, and speckled with broken shards of glass and pieces of plastic from the destroyed cars on top of them.

The intersection was completely blocked.

An engine snapped me out of my stupor and I glanced to the right as a car trundled its way up to the top. Like the little engine that could, apocalyptic version, the car bumped over the twisted grooves of metal shattering windows and snapping plastic on its way to the top. There was a man with a red trucker hat turned backward on his head behind the wheel.

Then the others appeared.

To be continued…

Thanks for reading,