Zombie Dawn Apocalypse (25 page)

“Now!” shouted Bruce.

The two men lifted the large wooden plank which lay across the doors and threw it aside, pulling the two gates back. Bruce immediately ran straight through the opening and out towards the trench, trampling on the littering of dead bodies. Between the outer wall and the trench were twenty creatures, and more beyond it. Bruce did not even break stride, he simply ran past the first zombie and swung his mace into its head as he ran by, the force and speed of the impact sent the creature flying off its feet and into a bloody mess on the ground.

The rest of fighters were close on Bruce’s heels, a well armoured mass rampaging across the causeway towards the trench. The scattering of creatures proved no test to the well-armed and armoured bunch. Bruce finally clambered over the rough natural bridge which had been created in their causeway and stopped twenty feet past it, slamming his shield down onto the ground and taking a few deep breaths.

“Come on then you bastards!” he shouted.

His companions rallied around him and formed a loose shield wall. Those not armed with shields fell in behind them, their bows and crossbows at the ready, the workers were already at the causeway with tools, frantically trying to break up the natural bridge that had formed. Bruce turned to survey the situation.

New South Wales, Australia

The massive fortified base that used to be an old harbour was the home of what remained of the Pacific Flotilla. At the start of the outbreak it consisted of a great variety of vessels carry supplies, soldiers, scientists and refugees away from the slaughter to places of safety. In ten years their numbers had dwindled, as had their vessels and their capability to travel in large numbers throughout the Pacific. All was not lost though, and they had set up a secure and reasonably safe outpost in this land for the two hundred and thirty two survivors that remained. Most prominent of this group was the scientist Dr Garcia, who was the elected leader of their number and also the person to have first come into contact with the infection and outbreak of the undead.

Onboard the moored research vessel the RV Moreau the Doctor and her science staff and military advisors studied the map laid out on the table in front of them. A small group of civilians in a mixture of work clothes stood to one side whilst a man in a recently repaired suit watched quietly.

“So there you have it,” said the Doctor, as she straightened her back and looked at the people.

Mr Morton, the man in the suit, spoke before anybody else could make a comment.

“This is an interesting development, the single most important contact we have had in over four years. What I find more interesting though, is that they have a secure island location with access to the mainland and have been able to operate for quite some time. According to their information they are already self sufficient in terms of food, clothing and basic power. Plus, and this is a big plus, the people they have include medical staff, scientists, engineers and other experts in many fields.”

Dr Garcia put her jaw in her hand while she considered the facts before turning to Mr Morton.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. The question is what do we do though? We have established a base of sorts here but we do have our own problems. Dr Willis, what is our status?”

“Not as good as some of you might think. Our numbers are currently two hundred and thirty two. Our provisions are adequate for another three to four weeks. We have started to prepare the land for crops, but it isn’t going to help us for this season. We have no sources of fuel other than that on our ships. We have supplies from the last raids, but the real problem is we are not finding or creating materials in sufficiently high numbers to sustain the colony past the winter,” he said.

“Are there no another locations we can use for supplies?”

“None,” answered Ford, whilst looking carefully at the map.

He wore military fatigues and was the shady, though apparently recently reformed, thug who was often used on the dangerous raids to collect supplies. Though he had a good record for bringing back much needed food and fuel, he always seemed to have more for himself and his small band of thugs than anybody else.

“How can you be so sure?” asked Mr Morton.

“Simple, the last two raids found nothing,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

“I don’t understand,” said Dr Garcia, “you brought back supplies though?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied whilst staring directly at her.

Dr Garcia stepped up to the man, looking up at his hard face.

“So where did they go?” she demanded.

“For my personal stash,” he replied with a smile.

“You asshole!” shouted Mr Morton as he moved towards the grinning Ford. Before he could get close enough two thugs in rough clothing stepped in the way, each blocking his path.

“My people are doing fine here. We are well supplied and it’s looking pretty good. Why do we even want to consider leaving?” Ford asked.

“If you have supplies then why aren’t you sharing them with the group? We have an agreement in place to ensure all supplies are divided amongst those who need them,” Dr Garcia asked him.

“We do huh? You take the fleet if you want, either way the supplies stay with me,” he said with a tone that hinted at violence.

The room went silent as the group stood apart, considering their options. Ford, feeling he had the upper hand, made for the door.

“I’ll leave you ladies to make up your minds, let me know when you work it out,” he laughed as he left followed by his two thugs.

Mr Morton turned to the group, his frown tight with anger.

“This needs to stop. Ford and his lot have been a thorn in our sides for a long time. My recommendation is we need to make some long-term plans here. This place is barren, we have no supplies past a few months and yet over the water we have news of this new haven, I say we go for it,” he said.

“What about Ford?” asked Dr Willis.

“I’ll have a word with Captain Black when he gets back, I’m sure he and Ford would enjoy a little chat,” Dr Garcia said with a grin.

 
“In the meantime get the ships ready, we need to be ready to leave as soon as possible.”

* * *

It was dark by the time Captain Black and his people reached the perimeter of the compound and their base of operations. Dr Garcia was standing at the entrance waiting for him. As the column snaked nearer several people helped them inside with their carts, each laden down with the various pieces of old equipment, armour and accoutrements that they might find useful. The Doctor noticed the gleaming of metal and she picked out the metal helmets, she reached out and grabbed the nearest. The helmet was thinner than she had expected but still heavy.

“Interesting, you brought this back, why?” she asked.

“Simple, there wasn’t much else. Well, other than this,” he said, as he handed her the log he had collected from the coastal compound.

The column continued past them, each person trudging past and up the small hill to where the stores were kept. Dr Garcia signalled to the Captain to head towards a long abandoned storehouse. It was a short distance from the main path. Captain Black sensed there was something wrong but said nothing, just keeping alert in case of trouble. As they moved away Fernanda noticed them.

“Hey, you two need a hand with something?” she asked wryly.

The Captain gave her a simple hand signal, instantly telling her to be careful. She moved on but kept a wary eye on the area where the two were walking.

“Listen, we’ve got a problem. The consensus is to leave, but Ford is causing trouble again and we need to get out of here without interruption,” she said.

“I don’t understand, how can Ford cause a problem?”

“Simple, he’s hoarding the stores and using them to blackmail us if we stay or leave,” she added.

“So why not just leave him?” he asked.

“That would make sense but he has the numbers and the connections to cause us real difficulties when we go,” she said.

“Okay, why is it that I think you’re asking for my help on this one?”

“Look, we are nearly ready. We plan on leaving at first light, and we’re taking everything with us. All I need is for you to make sure he doesn’t cause us a problem,” she explained.

“I don’t quite get what you’re asking for. How exactly do you want me to help?” he asked.

“Ford is a jackal. We don’t want him on this trip, I need you to make sure he doesn’t follow us. Can you do that?” she asked.

Captain Black looked at her for a moment before giving a grin.

“Making sure that asshole doesn’t follow us causes me no problems at all, how long till sunrise?” he asked.

Dr Garcia checked her watch and then looked around him, making sure nobody was listening.

“About three hours until first light, we need to leave by then,” she said.

“Ok, make sure you’re ready, I’ll see you on the Moreau in three hours. Trigger the northern light in exactly twenty minutes, we’ll get him then,” he said.

Dr Garcia nodded and then made to move away before turning back and placing her hand on the Captain’s right arm.

“Good luck, Captain,” she whispered before turning and heading back up the hill.

As she walked away the Captain signalled to Fernanda who appeared discreetly from the other side of the building. “Get Kowalski here, we have a little job to do.”

As she disappeared, the Captain looked around the perimeter of the site. A low fence ran along the outside, at every hundred yards stood a tall pole with an outward facing lamp lighting up the immediate area. Behind that fence was another wooden barricade that was tall enough to cause difficulty in being breached by the undead. In the last few weeks they had fought off small numbers of the dead but nothing major, so far.

As he considered his options Fernanda and Kowalski trotted down the hill, both still in their combat gear and carrying their weapons.

“We need to neutralise Ford and his goons, you up for that?” he asked.

“About damned time,” said Kowalski, there was obviously no love lost between the two men.

“I assume he’ll be at the old clubhouse, right?” asked Captain Black.

“Yeah, makes sense, that’s where he usually is. The problem is the open ground from the centre to the clubhouse, how are we
gonna
get there without being noticed?”

“Simple, we’ll take the perimeter and work our way around the back to the woodland. From there we have enough cover to reach the back wall, cut the lights and rush the building,” said the Captain.

“What about those undead suckers, the last three attacks have been in that area?” asked Kowalski.

“Fair point, just keep your eyes open and your blade ready.”

The other two marines nodded and followed the Captain back outside the compound. As they left they pushed the gate shut behind them. There were two guards on entry point.

“We have one more load to bring back, we’ll return in about an hour, don’t shoot us,” he said with a disarming grin.

The nearest guard laughed, “Don’t worry, we’ll try to remember!”

The Captain nodded and then headed out into the blackness. As they moved away he pulled down his starlight eyepiece that magnified available light and almost turned the blackness into daylight. Kowalski and Fernanda did the same. Once they were a short distance away they veered off to their right and made for the thick woodland. Captain Black wasn’t joking though, this cover had never been totally cleared and they had lost two people in the undergrowth to attacks in the last month. Once they moved past the outer foliage they were inside and their speed was significantly reduced. The Captain took point with the other two following slowly behind in a spaced out column. Each of them held out a machete, ready to strike at anything that appeared.