Tales of the Zombie Apocalypse (Issue #2 | September 2015) (8 page)

As he climbed back in Cole dropped out of his seat and together they started making sense of the jumbled chaos. Max spotted the shrapnel blaster and tugged it free from the mountain of maps that had covered it. He managed to get a pack of nails and glass shards loaded just as the first zombies reached them. Staring at dead eyes and grey flesh, Max leveled the blaster and fired. Blood and chunks of rot flew everywhere.

Max wiped at the gore on his face and regretted not pulling his goggles over his eyes. He slammed his boot into a second corpse that was close behind. Just as his foot cleared the window a blast fired past him, sending chunks flying again. “To the top,” Oric said, grabbing hold of him and jerking him backwards.

Cole brought up the rear, firing at the corpses trying to make their way through the window. Up on top Jo offered a hand and helped Max up. Mark and Oric were already firing into the accumulating horde. Max took up a spot and waited for them to get closer. Shrapnel was most affective at a closer range and it didn’t take long for the zombies to crowd around the van, reaching up to tear them down.

Beside him Jo fired round after round from her handgun until she was loading her last clip. It never took long for the ammo to start running low for the smaller guns. That’s why he loved his blaster. Nails and glass could be found everywhere. When Jo fired her last round she knelt and clubbed the nearest corpse with the butt of her pistol. A splat rang out over the gunshots.

Max swung his blaster around and fired at one that was reaching for her as she clubbed a second. Rotten brains and bone rained upward, but it saved her for only a second. Jo grinned up at him just as she was about to step away from the edge and grey arms wrapped around her, pulling her down. She was drug through the stench all the way to the ground and her screams rang out as he watched the mindless creatures start to tear into her. Max fired off two shots into the heap before the screaming stopped.

Looking away from the bloody mess that had been his friend, Max spotted something outside the horde. A large black vehicle was speeding their way. “We’ve got another team,” he yelled back at the others just as the van shifted under them.

Max’s knee buckled under him and he dropped down onto the broken crates. He lost his grip on the gun when he slammed into the ground and it rolled away. Letting out a deep moan, Max pushed himself up and a sharp pain shot through his leg. “Damnit,” he cussed, reaching down and tearing a large splintered board from his calf.

“Max, get back up here. They’re close,” Oric called down to him.

Turning, he saw the boss reaching down for him. Still gripping the board Max nodded and tried to limp back, but something grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. Dropping back down to the ground, Max struggled to free his leg. Rolling, he saw a corpse clawing at him. Hollow, dead eyes stared back at him. How could he not have spotted a zombie so close? He slammed the board down on the creature’s head, hoping to smash through the skull. It took another three hits before he heard the wet crunch of bone and brain matter, but it was too late.

A second and third one were already on him. Searing pain eclipsed his vision and the last thing he saw before broken teeth tore into him was the bumper of a large SUV plowing through the horde.