Running with the Horde Read Online Free PDF Page A

keys, hustled to the garage and flipped the lights on. My car was there! My dad must have driven it home for me. Damn. He sucked me back in again but it didn’t matter, my baby was home.
                  My fully restored 1975 Pontiac LeMans was a thing to behold. A creature of the night! A demon of the shadows! My one and only true love.
                  She was not a practical car but damn, that sucker could fly. The engine was a beautiful chrome finished rebuilt 350 V8 with a manual transmission that had more than a little kick to it.
                  With its sleek black finish and dual exhaust pipes, it looked and sounded like a dark motorized monster that was made for cruising lonesome highways under the moonlight.
                  I had always liked muscle cars but this one was special.
                  I’d had a thing for this make and model since my dad had one when I was a kid. He only let me ride in it on very special occasions.
                  He knew I loved it and frequently used it as both a carrot and a stick to get little me to behave the way he wanted. He used to tell me it would be mine when I got older but he ended up selling it one year while I was away at summer camp.
                  When I had the money, I purchased mine from a junk yard and paid a lot of money to make it better than new, better than my dad’s had been.
                  I hopped in and just enjoyed the feel of the crushed velvet captain’s chair for a few minutes. Finally, I hit the button on the garage door opener and rolled out to meet the day.
                  My spirits were immediately dampened as I turned out onto Rice Creek Road and headed toward the highway. Reality was the chaos from the day before. Traffic was a nasty, never ending, fire-breathing dragon as I weaved my way slowly down Central Avenue.
                  The rioting from the gas station had spread like a plague overnight. Stores and restaurants were trashed, some were burning. There were people fighting everywhere.
                  Many of the fighters were military troops entrenched in combat with civilians. The dead or badly wounded were just left to lie on the sidewalks or in parking lots. Police and fire fighters were out in force but there were just too many terrible things happening all at once for them to make a difference.
                  It was a real life waking nightmare.
                  When I made it to 49 th , I noticed a strange sight. A major construction project was underway at a large condo complex. Armed men were keeping the masses out as it looked like they were turning the entire place into an armed fortress. They were certainly taking the whole barricading concept to a new level of seriousness.
    …
                  The closer I got to the big city the more unlikely it appeared I was going to make it all the way downtown to my dad’s apartment. Traffic was becoming impossible, there were stalled vehicles and new accidents occurring by the minute and nobody to restore order or direct traffic.
                  After several hours of creeping progress, I noticed that while traffic was still thick, it was behaving more normally. By then my nerves were frayed and I had to piss like a racehorse. I was close to turning around when I saw a road block up ahead on Broadway Avenue.
                  It was heavily guarded by a large company of military personal. Nobody was being allowed through. Cars were being redirected down Broadway or returned back the way they’d come. A large digital sign indicated that downtown Minneapolis was closed. That was fucking weird; how do you close a city?
                  When it was my turn at the head of the pack I was instructed by hand signals to go left down Broadway. When I didn’t move, a group of soldiers approached