Wade cupped his hand to his ear. I hear something. Waved his hand to the ground. Get down. A listening halt.
The squad crouched behind the line of cars parked against the curb. Gray looked at Wade and mouthed, What the fuck?
Then they all heard it. A distant rattle. It grew louder by the second.
Wade fixed his bayonet to the end of his carbine.
A vehicle rolled up the road, scattering trash. A shiny BMW convertible driven by a middle-aged couple wearing black sunglasses and smiling as if out for a pleasant Sunday drive in the city. The man wore a brown suit and tie, the woman a polka dot dress.
The rattling sound was chains.
The car was dragging dozens of bodies. Shredded into hamburger over miles of road.
The stench of death struck them as the vehicle passed.
Then came to a halt. The V8 engine roared.
The heads swiveled toward the squad’s position. The man grinned and said, “I smell lunch.”
–from THE RETREAT by Craig DiLouie, Joe McKinney and Stephen Knight