Here is a sample of my writing.
The Desert Rose ©
The black war rig stopped on a rise in the road. Its driver, Jock Mackenzie squinted as he scanned the surrounding landscape. The old cracked highway and the surrounding wasteland were still. Even the buzzards were not present in the clear blue sky, they too were hiding from the midday heat. The Desert Rose lurched forward as its driver pressed down on the big rig’s accelerator. They were so close to the safe haven of San Francisco that he could almost taste the city’s salty air. Home.
The Desert Rose roared down the highway, its driver skilfully avoiding potholes and deep ruts in the road’s surface. The rig’s crew had been on the road for weeks and they were all looking forward to sleeping in proper beds again. Their long trip proved fruitless, rumours of a new government forming in Denver had proven false. Nothing breathed in Denver now. The crew were disappointed but not too surprised.
Jock pressed the button on the intercom, “We are almost home guys.” He pressed down on the accelerator a little more and the rig’s responded with a roar. He wanted home. Bad!
Looking down the road, the familiar heat mirage shimmered off the asphalt. After a few moments, Jock realised he could see a black shape contained within the heat haze. Crap! This close to home, it can only mean trouble! Jock thought.
“Lizzy, you got your ears on?” he said, using the intercom again.
“Yeah babe, what’s happening?” said a women’s voice. Lizzy was Jock’s wife and one of the best gunners in California.
“You better ready up your cannon, looks like we may have company,”
Two hundred yards out, Jock brought the big rig to a gentle stop and grabbed his old binoculars from their holder. He surveyed the landscape. All was still quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck always tingled when something was wrong and they now felt like they were trying to jump off his neck!
The object ahead was an over turned van in the centre of the road and what was more inconvenient, it was right in the middle of a bridge that spanned a dry gully.
“Lizzy, it looks like a trap. How about you put a warning shot over that van. It will help encourage people not to be stupid.”
The big cannon on the roof sounded like bottled thunder as it spewed forth a hunk of steel and smoke. A moment later, the van vapourised into smoke and flames. When the black smoke settled, the van had vanished, it had been replaced with smouldering chunks of twisted steal.
“Nice shot Lizzy,” said Jock as he threw the gear stick into first and the rig crawled forward slowly.
Dark shapes started to move along the edge of the gully. Shit! Zombies! Jock floored the accelerator and the war rig lurched forward. Just as a swarm of decaying bodies staggered onto the road and moved between the Desert Rose and its exit path across the bridge.
“Hang on Lizzy, it’s going to get messy!”
