Tales Of Pete: The Weird Road Trip (Part 4)

Everything fucking hurts. Carl’s been having us do weight exercises now. We’ve been doing this with large rocks and logs. Words can’t describe how sore my arms and legs felt afterward. Even after over eight hours of sleep, moving is still painful.

Enough of my whining, though. I’ll now pick up where I left off in my last post. I thought we were shit out of luck. There were dozens of ghosts, shambling toward us. We didn’t have any means of defending ourselves against or escaping them.

“What do you mean you’re out of salt?” I asked Carl with my tone sounding more shrill than I intended.

“I mean, I’m out,” he replied, turning the pack upside down over his palm to confirm this.

“Then what the hell do we do?”

“They’re getting closer,” Nick informed us. “We need to come up with something fast.”

“I’m trying,” Carl told him. “Both of you shut up so I can think.”

Carl tapped his head, trying to concentrate.

“Pete, hand us your crutches. Maybe we can use them to shove them back.”

I did as told, handing them over. Truth be told, I felt like dead weight. Carl and Nick were going to do most of the work while all I could do was stand back.