Tiredness Kills - A Zombie Tale Read Free

which) slammed his hand down on the big red alarm bell that was only
ever to be sounded in the direst of emergencies!

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                   

GTA: Zombie Apocalypse

 
      So focused on his mission was he that Chris
Richards failed to notice the three pairs of eyes that looked up as he pulled
sharply into the car park. They watched intently as he exited the car (failing
to close the driver side window that had been opened only moments earlier when
he'd struggled against puking up the contents of his stomach) studied him
closely as he made his way across the badly pot- holed car park, and which swivelled
to look at each other excitedly after he had entered through the well- worn
door of the small, dingy public house.

 
    An opportunist never misses
an opportunity. And so within a three minute window of that pub door closing,
the trusty (albeit rusty) Volvo had three new inhabitants inside her, one of
whom was fiddling around with her wiring.

 
      Being accomplished in this very art of   'hot wiring', Reece Bailley soon had the
Volvo purring like a kitty as he gingerly eased her off the car park and out of
sight of the pub and it's dodgy clientele.

 
    “Where we gonna go?” asked
the Kyle that always wore a red hoodie!
     
    “Let's go and do doughnuts”
said the Kyle that always wore a blue hoodie, and all three males broke into a
loud chant of “Doughnuts! Doughnuts! Doughnuts!”

 
      Reece swung the Volvo's nose round to head
into the direction of the Old Rec, a disused field that lay just far enough
away from the road as to hide any shady behaviour from anyone likely to poke a
nose in.

 
    Reece and the two Kyles
squealed and cheered like happy kids on a fun fair ride as the car raced around
the edges of the field at breakneck speed, then suddenly and without warning
Reece would jerk the wheel whilst applying the handbrake, spinning the car out
of control.

 
      Technically these moves weren't doughnuts they
were just skids, but this didn't matter to three young teenagers from a
deprived area. As far as they were concerned ,, they
were tearing up turf, being rebellious, and feeling like they were having free
rides on the Waltzers with extra spins thrown in.

 
    Eventually though, even skiddy doughnuts lose their appeal and Reece and the two
Kyles had had enough.
    Kyle with the red hoodie had
been the quicker off the mark when jumping into the car at the point of theft
and so had bagged the passenger seat. He had done so without even calling
'Shotgun' but, given the circumstances, this small crime had been over looked.

 
      He looked at his two accomplices and announced
“I'm dying for a fag!”

 
    Kyle with the blue hoodie-
not normally known for moments of genius- piped up “Look in the glove
compartment. There might be fags in there!”

 
    “Look in the..........
what?   Don't you mean cubby 'ole you posh
git?”

 
      What followed could only be described as a few
seconds of raucous laughter which came to a very sudden halt as red Kyle, after
a moment spent mooching around in said   ' Glovie ' ,
turned to look at both of them, with a huge grin on his face.... and a twenty
pound note in his hand.

 
    “And what shall we do now?”
he asked with a knowing look on his face, as he was very aware that none of the
trio had eaten any food so far this day- and sometimes even food came before
weed.

 
    “Burgers! Burgers! Burgers!”
was the new war cry as Reece eased a limping, and muddier (albeit still trusty,
rusty) Volvo out of the Old Rec and onto the A- road that would lead them to
the motorway service station in nearby Hopwood.

 
    “Now listen,” said Reece in
his whispery serious voice “We'll go in and get some grub then on the way out
we'll pull into the petrol bit and Kyle can fill the tank up. And then, as
you're pretending to go and pay (he was looking at red Kyle), jump back in and
we'll fly off