My Doomsday Farming Truck Novelas e Histórias

My parents got me a new truck to drive to school with, they told me that we were still going to go to the ‘Human’ High school for Junior year, that the new high school we built doesn’t have enough teachers or staff yet to officially open it, hopefully senior year we can transfer there. The truck my parents got me was a 2024 Ford F-250 King Ranch 4 by 4. It has a black to purple hypershift color, with neon purple accents, it has a 12 inch lift kit with all terrain tires and is bulletproof but you can’t tell. The truck is also a 6.7 liter V8 Powerstroke turbo diesel, with LED lights. It has a light bar on the roof and one on the ‘bully bar’, along with a winch attached to the grill. The purpl

“What I should’ve done years ago. Build something that’s mine — truly mine.” --- Later that afternoon, Doom meets me at the southern ridge of his territory. The air is colder here, sharper. The wind howls through the valley, and the forest below glitters with frost. It’s beautiful — in a lonely, forgotten way. “This is it,” Doom says, standing beside me. “Five hundred acres. No settlements, no borders, no debts. A blank start.” The land stretches endlessly below us — wild, untouched. My heart beats faster. I can almost see it — walls, homes, training grounds, laughter. A new world built from nothing but will.

Zoie commanded and all the farmers were mobilized to harvest the fruits in the middle of the dawn. When Narco arrived at Zoie's ranch, the new and fresh pick fruits were already prepared. It was even arranged in a big basket. Zoie's crew loaded three huge baskets into the monster truck that he thought of bringing today, especially since he knew that he could carry a lot of this thing. "This is funny. It never occurred to me that you would request fruits. You killed a lot of people for me without asking a single cent but Narco... Fruits?" Zoie teasingly said as Narco's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

As she considered her appearance, she wondered if anyone would stop with her looking such a fright. She didn’t know how long she waited out there, but finally someone came along in an extremely large truck – an eighteen-wheeler. The driver was hauling a trailer that said, Getter Done Trucking, on the side. The truck was obnoxiously loud as the driver put it in park. She would have stood, but she just didn’t have the strength.

A few minutes later, a loud rumble filled the air and the truck arrived. Everyone turned toward the sound, clapping and cheering as it pulled into the clearing. It was big and white, with the words Rothman Farms painted on the side. Athena clapped her hands. “Perfect timing!” The servants rushed to the back of the truck. I leaned forward, heart pounding with excitement. One of the men unlocked the heavy doors and I pushed forward, pretending to be concerned, though I was already laughing inside. The servants stepped back, faces pale. A horrible stench filled the air.

It was farming country, peaceful and sparsely populated. Farmers paused their work—their hands calloused and backs bowed from generations of tilling—when the first Aeternum convoys arrived. It wasn't just a few trucks; it was a deluge. Hundreds of armored transports, massive cranes trailing behind them, and flatbeds piled high with pre-fabricated, impossibly strong steel beams. The earth shuddered under the sheer weight of the mobilization as the column rolled through sleepy villages and across rutted tracks.

Lena grinned widely, “Dad bought a 2023 Dodge Ram 3500. It’s blue, but not a bright blue. More like a Midnight Blue with a bit of sparkle to it. It looks like a night sky full of stars, mom.” She pulled the pictures up on her phone and handed it to me. I flipped through the pictures and gasped. I jerked my head to Isaac, “How did you know?” He laughed, “My whole world has revolved around you since we were little kids. Do you honestly think I didn’t notice the way you drooled over those trucks?” I laughed, “I never thought of that.”

"He's in the old utility truck. Parked outside the gate." The truck was a beast, a relic from a time when people worried about hauling lumber and drywall, not survival gear and fleeing from the undead. It was a deep, faded green, with patches of rust blooming like sores across its hood and doors. The bed was long and deep, a metal trough that could carry a significant haul. "We would definitely have enough room to take us for a while in case we had to take a detour," I murmured, more to myself than anyone.

(1920*FORT, US) TYRE "Tyre, shut the fucking door! " Jack hollered handling a rifle. We were at the frontier of the US defense, in the year; 1920, where we had time traveled. I squeezed my head out the window of the armored truck Bobby drove and spotted the incoming bullets of the German opposition. It was hell! If Bobby, for a second, didn't steady his impact on the gas, someone was going to get shot. I sat beside Bobby in the front seat while Jack strutted at the back with his head to his lower abdomen clasped outside the roof of the truck, ready to aim.