[The brakes screeched once Graham felt like he'd reversed enough, gone far back a good distance, and then he kept one foot on the brake while he leaned out the window and shot. It wasn't fun, he'd never enjoyed killing anything but he was efficient, only a couple of his bullets missing their mark. Still got the damned walkers, just not right in the head.
He could see the truck moving forward, and he figured Jake took the hint. Good boy. But then he started shooting again, gunfire filling the air, and it was like the dead didn't know which way to go. Noise here, noise there, and he figured it was time to put the car into drive.] Christ. [More a curse than a prayer, he hit the gas and drove right into the mess of zombies. Wasn't the best idea, bodies slamming the windshield and hood and things cracking, but he was stubborn, and he left a good chunk of them lying on the road.]
Drive! [Graham rolled the window back down to shout at the truck.] Go, Jake! Just go! [Once they made it far enough away from the horde behind them, they could stop. He had some canned stuff he'd taken from the farmhouse, had water and weapons; better if they stuck together.]