Hannibal Smith slipped out the door as unobtrusively as possible, trying not to wake the people who had claimed Bullwinkle's Saloon as their own. His hair moved gently with the slight wind that had just picked up.
A hunched over figure was sitting at the spot where the first sentry was supposed to be, walking over to it, Smith touched the shoulder, hoping to wake the Sentry to save those inside.
A twitch, that was the only warning Smith had of the veritable storm that was to follow. The figure lashed out at Smith as it turned, and he was able to view the horror of these 'Zombies' for himself.
He brought up his Colt and plugged two rounds right into the head of the zombie, blowing it clean off.
The wind shifted again and Smith could hear screams coming from the bar. Steeling himself, he walked away from the bar and over to the 19th Avenue parking ramp. Stealing inside, Smith perused the selection of vehicles, both college students' and professors'.
Looking up and down the rows of cars and trucks Smith's eye eventually fell upon a Chevy Suburban. It looked to be only a year old and in decent condition, telling himself that it wasn't technically stealing since the owner was likely dead he placed his hand on the driver's side door and opened it.
His earlier inspection hadn't revealed that there was a figure inside the Suburban, but as he opened the door, the body of the driver fell out of the truck and onto the pavement.
Cursing to himself he hit a switch that turned on the lights and looked back into the passenger compartment, not seeing anybody, even on closer inspection, Hannibal started the engine and checked the gas gauge.
He had a full tank of gas!
Shifting the truck into reverse, he pulled out of the spot and then threw it into drive. He looked down at the parking ticket that was stuck in the dash and ripped it up with a sardonic grin.
Reaching the exit of the ramp, Smith gunned it and the truck flew out of the parking ramp into the street. Taking a left and then another left, Smith ripped away, trying to get to I-35 before any zombie could catch him. Seeing a stalled out police car he called out:
"Don't mind me officer, I'm just taking a leisurely drive!" Then a stress-relieving laugh followed. He looked over at the passenger's chair where his AK-47 should've been.
"Damn!" He muttered. "Forgot it."
Turning on to Northbound I-35W he brought the speed up to 70 mph and hit the cruise control. It was going to be a long drive out of the Twin Cities.
((Funny enough, the route I described actually can be followed...))
hit(&head, desk, HARD);