Post Apocalypse Truck の小説・ストーリー

The bandits instantly retaliated and shot the couple dead. The people who'd caused my death in my past life died in this lifetime just like that. And funnily enough, the broken gate—which I'd been worried about—had saved us. … Half a year after the zombie outbreak, we started running low on supplies. The military's rescue teams didn't show up anymore, and we started preparing to head to a safe zone. I'd bought plenty of gasoline before the apocalypse. After Emmett and I checked the car to make sure it was functioning, we finally departed for the safe zone.

“We do what we can, and we don’t reveal too much, yet.” My Beta nodded at me, and did a final check on his firearm and accessories. Jacqueline, the nurse, was rustling with her things, but Mira was still as stone. I let my eyes rest on her a moment longer. “I’m with you.” “I know.” We saw the charred remains of the mid-size truck from a local medical distributor. It was a common road used to travel among most of the Packs in the area, mostly used for commercial trucks and travelers. It was lucky no one else was on the road at the time.

We began to fire at each other but my team dogged every bullet. “We’ve got a problem, Alpha,” a warrior named Finn reported, his voice tight. “They’ve got heavy armor.” “Focus on the tires,” I ordered. “Shoot at the tires and disable the truck.” After it took a few bullets, the truck swerved, as its tires shredded. I watched it crash into the quarry wall and heaved a sigh. We secured the cargo, and found the crates filled with rifles, grenades, and other deadly weapons. “Third truck approaching,” Caleb’s voice reported through the mind link.

“I’m going to hit the bike trail after I drop Zoe and Beth at school. I’ll be home after to check on you and clean up before I head to the museum. Take it easy, honey. There’s no rush to get moving.” Lamentably, Nick had been forced to abandon the semi-truck a couple days later when ‘wifey’ became suspicious he refused to call. Deserting it at a remote rest area in northeast Colorado where he’d acquired a deplorable pickup camper after offing its wretched owner, an older man the deranged doctor was convinced was both diseased and otherwise homeless, he’d doubled back to an isolated truck stop at a convenient intersection of Utah state roads.

"Yes, sir. This way, please." Outside, the saleswoman opened the gate to the parking lot. The moment the gate opened, Victor saw an all-black heavy-duty truck. It was love at first sight. "Sir, this is our latest heavy-duty truck. Feel free to ask me anything." The truck was a bit dusty, but that didn't diminish Victor's love for it. It was his ticket to surviving the apocalypse. "This heavy-duty truck should look pretty badass as a mecha, right?" "What did you say, sir?" The saleswoman didn't catch Victor's mutterings.

" Before Stephen could say anything, Darren stepped on the accelerator. The truck rolled past the frightened survivors and entered the farm. **** The truck continued deeper into the farm. The smell became worse with every meter they traveled. Rotting animal carcasses littered the area. Dead pigs. Dead cows. Dead chickens. Dead sheep. The remains of both animals and humans could be seen scattered across the property. Many were already far into decomposition. Flies swarmed everywhere. The air itself felt toxic. Even Darren, who had experienced countless horrors during the apocalypse, struggled to tolerate it. Then.... Movement. Several monsters suddenly emerged from both sides of the road. The

I shrugged and trudged up the stairs. After I was ready for work, I headed out to the truck. It was a big, black, 1998 lifted Chevy Silverado, with a crew cab. It had huge spotlights on the top of the truck. It made it easier to drive in the dark. River had this truck since he was fifteen. He did a lot of work on it. I didn't blame him for not getting rid of it. ***

and asked me to pour in every cent I had saved since graduation—to build a safe haven for all of us. They swore they and my "sister" would contribute everything too. That we would work together as a family and survive the crisis side by side. I believed them. I emptied myself dry—built the strongest bunker and stockpiled enough supplies to last all of us ten years. And they? From start to finish, they didn't contribute a single cent. On the very first day of the apocalypse, while moving the final batch of supplies, I suffered severe heatstroke and nearly collapsed. When I went to the warehouse to get a can of emergency medicine, Denise stopped me.

Aiden steps aside for me to see my surprise. All I see is a big jacked up black on black four wheel drive four door truck. "Where is it?" I'm confused. My heart pounds as Aiden hands me a set of keys. Skullz, Xavi, Gunner, Blaze and my dad part like the sea. I see the giant messed up looking bow on the front grill of the truck.

“Truck. Now.” The storm didn’t let up. They flew down the logging road, headlights carving sharp paths through sheets of rain. Riven gripped the wheel, knuckles white. Kael rode shotgun, rifle across his lap, eyes locked on the treeline. Ari led the second truck, Harlow and Roman crouched low in the bed, soaked and silent. Through a break in the trees, the wreckage appeared—twisted beams still smoldering, metal glinting dully in the headlights.