Read Online The Road to Macon: A Zombie Novel by Micah Gurley - Free Book Online
Authors: Micah Gurley
Tags: Zombies
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fishing lures to ammo to that bunny white bread Kyle liked so much. Dust coated the unpopular items that didn’t seem to warrant cleaning, and the wooden floor creaked as they walked on it. All in all, Able loved it. It reminded him of the small country store where he ate hot dogs at when he was younger. There was a large jar of Smithfield's Dill Pickles on the counter and Abe thought he might get one of those on the way out.
“Do you have any ammo for a .30-06?” Abe asked, as he moved up to the counter and waited for the guy to move behind it.
“Sure I do,” he answered. “Not sure how old it is but not older than a few months since hunting season used a lot of it up. We keep a lot of it around.”
“Good, I’ll take a few bricks of that and three cases of 9mm. And one case of 45s.” Kyle had told him to buy everything he could but ammo wasn’t cheap and he still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a joke. He would hedge his bets.
The guy plopped the heavy boxes of ammo on the counter and then began to punch the in numbers in his classic cash register. “And a pickle,” Abe added, taking one out of the jar.
“On the house,” the man replied happily, and then began to cackle at his joke as he pointed around the small store. “Get it? House?” he kept laughing and Abe smiled and was happy the old man was having such a good time. Who said all old people were grouchy.
“$212.50,” Jeremiah said, after punching the last item in the old cashier.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Abe mumbled to himself. “Totally unnecessary,” he was still grumbling when he thanked the guy for the pickle and climbed into his truck, a dill pickle hanging from his mouth.
As he pulled into the housing development that Kyle lived in, he saw smoke in the distance. He couldn’t immediately see where it was coming from but became a little concerned when he noticed that it was coming from the general direction of his brother’s house.
He breathed in a sigh of relief when he saw that the smoke was coming from the house with the car smashed in its garage. He wondered again how that had happened, and was asking himself where everyone had gone. He didn’t see a person in the area which was weird since he wasn’t gone that long. The smoke was thick and black, and was progressively getting heavier even as Abe watched it from his truck. He decided he would take a look after he parked.
He backed the big truck, bed first, into the driveway so he could pack a little easier if he needed to. He got out of the truck and started to close the door when his brother’s warning squawked in his head. He sighed and flipped up his seat to pull out the gun belt that his brother had gotten him. It was black and made of some fiber that was extremely durable, though that was all he knew about it. Kyle had told him that it was what they used at work.
He snapped the gun belt on his waist and pulled out a small, hard plastic case. He opened it and pulled out a Remington 9mm. His brother had given him this also and made him spend countless hours at the range with it. What a waste of money. He didn’t mind the shooting, but loading the magazines and picking up the spent brass was a pain.
Abe checked the action, popped the magazine out to make sure it was loaded, and inserted it back into the magazine well. He holstered the gun and snapped the safety on it. He felt like an idiot as he started to walk down the street like he was trying to be a cowboy, and he hoped no one called the police on him. He stopped at the front of the house and debated what to do.
The house was still producing black smoke but Abe couldn't see a fire from the front. The car was still crashed halfway into the garage but there wasn’t anyone around.
“Hello in the house?” he called out, trying to be loud enough without looking like a gunslinger throwing out a challenge. Nothing moved. He looked to the houses on either side, but nobody seemed to be moving. He decided to get a closer
“Do you have any ammo for a .30-06?” Abe asked, as he moved up to the counter and waited for the guy to move behind it.
“Sure I do,” he answered. “Not sure how old it is but not older than a few months since hunting season used a lot of it up. We keep a lot of it around.”
“Good, I’ll take a few bricks of that and three cases of 9mm. And one case of 45s.” Kyle had told him to buy everything he could but ammo wasn’t cheap and he still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a joke. He would hedge his bets.
The guy plopped the heavy boxes of ammo on the counter and then began to punch the in numbers in his classic cash register. “And a pickle,” Abe added, taking one out of the jar.
“On the house,” the man replied happily, and then began to cackle at his joke as he pointed around the small store. “Get it? House?” he kept laughing and Abe smiled and was happy the old man was having such a good time. Who said all old people were grouchy.
“$212.50,” Jeremiah said, after punching the last item in the old cashier.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Abe mumbled to himself. “Totally unnecessary,” he was still grumbling when he thanked the guy for the pickle and climbed into his truck, a dill pickle hanging from his mouth.
As he pulled into the housing development that Kyle lived in, he saw smoke in the distance. He couldn’t immediately see where it was coming from but became a little concerned when he noticed that it was coming from the general direction of his brother’s house.
He breathed in a sigh of relief when he saw that the smoke was coming from the house with the car smashed in its garage. He wondered again how that had happened, and was asking himself where everyone had gone. He didn’t see a person in the area which was weird since he wasn’t gone that long. The smoke was thick and black, and was progressively getting heavier even as Abe watched it from his truck. He decided he would take a look after he parked.
He backed the big truck, bed first, into the driveway so he could pack a little easier if he needed to. He got out of the truck and started to close the door when his brother’s warning squawked in his head. He sighed and flipped up his seat to pull out the gun belt that his brother had gotten him. It was black and made of some fiber that was extremely durable, though that was all he knew about it. Kyle had told him that it was what they used at work.
He snapped the gun belt on his waist and pulled out a small, hard plastic case. He opened it and pulled out a Remington 9mm. His brother had given him this also and made him spend countless hours at the range with it. What a waste of money. He didn’t mind the shooting, but loading the magazines and picking up the spent brass was a pain.
Abe checked the action, popped the magazine out to make sure it was loaded, and inserted it back into the magazine well. He holstered the gun and snapped the safety on it. He felt like an idiot as he started to walk down the street like he was trying to be a cowboy, and he hoped no one called the police on him. He stopped at the front of the house and debated what to do.
The house was still producing black smoke but Abe couldn't see a fire from the front. The car was still crashed halfway into the garage but there wasn’t anyone around.
“Hello in the house?” he called out, trying to be loud enough without looking like a gunslinger throwing out a challenge. Nothing moved. He looked to the houses on either side, but nobody seemed to be moving. He decided to get a closer
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