Zombie Dawn Exodus (18 page)

“Hey, man, where’s Rollo?” said the man in a drunken
slur.

“In a ditch!” answered Nick as he smashed his fist
into the man’s face and then dragged him off behind the
vehicle.

With the man on the ground he followed up with a few
kicks just to be sure. Richard caught up with him and moved closer
in case of trouble. He looked down to check the man on the ground
then back to Nick.

“Yeah, he’s out, we okay?” he asked.

Nick nodded, “Come on!”

Leaving the man on the ground they continued towards
the truck. It was a large Mercedes built four-wheel drive vehicle
known as a Unimog. Nick and Richard climbed up into the cab whilst
the others continued their work on the other vehicles. Inside the
cab there was no sign of keys but the radio was a substantial unit
and easily found in the centre of the console.

“Can we take the radio, it could be useful?” asked
Richard.

“Look at the thing, it’s military spec and the
cables run into the unit in the back. We’d need to take the whole
truck. We don’t have the time for this, just disable everything you
can,” said Nick.

Nick pulled out the tools he’d brought whilst
Richard ripped apart all the electronics he could find. With the
tip of a screwdriver Nick jammed it into the front of the radio set
and prized off the panel. With the delicate circuits exposed he
pulled and stabbed at every part he could find. In just seconds the
radio was ruined.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Nick as he jumped out of
the vehicle.

Outside the Johnson brothers had done their job on
as many of the vehicles as they could reach. Following Nick they
inched slowly towards the end of the column where the two buses
were parked. Off to their left were the camp fires and the raiders
listening to their music and drinking with abandon. To the right
were the last two trucks forming a barrier to the motorcycles on
the other side. Ahead of them, but in front of the buses, were four
containers, each one large enough to fill the back of a large
truck.

“That’s what Jenkins said they would be like,
right?” asked Richard.

Nick nodded and then lowered himself as he
considered the next, critical part of the plan.

“It’s important we cause the confusion now or we’ll
never get them all out. Okay?” he asked.

The younger of the Johnson brothers spoke, “Are you
sure there’s no other way?”

Nick shrugged, “If you can think of one tell me.
Right now we need to use their strategy against them. Look on the
bright side. Ultimately we’ll be doing everybody a favour.”

With a look of resignation they agreed. Nick jabbed
his thumb towards the first bus and they fanned out, each moving
into position. The Johnson brothers moved straight to the
containers and knocked out the bolts holding the hatches shut. As
soon as they were opened hands reached out.

“Fuck me!” shouted the younger brother as he jumped
back from the creatures.

With the din from the loud music nobody could hear
him and more importantly, nobody was looking out for zombies inside
the encampment. In seconds they had the hatches to the rest of the
containers opened and ran back to join Nick and Richard in their
position ready to storm the buses.

“Is it done?” asked Nick.

The two men nodded.

“Okay then, let’s do this!” said Nick, as he pulled
out a small pistol crossbow from his jacket and put it into its
ready position.

The other three pulled out similar weapons and did
the same. The weapon might be small, but with a good shot it could
place a steel bolt into a man’s head. Checking from side to side he
could see the other three were ready. He turned back and then
pulled the trigger. With a dull twang the bolt released and smacked
into a guard’s throat. It was lower than he intended but it had the
desired effect. The guard fell to the floor, grabbing at his
bleeding wound. Two more bolts struck his comrade, one in the
shoulder and the other in the forehead, killing the man
instantly.

Richard moved ahead and pulled open the door to
check inside. A man was sitting in the driver’s seat brandishing a
sawn off shotgun. With a roar he pulled the trigger and emptied
both barrels into Richard’s chest. The close range blast sent him
back a dozen feet before he landed on his back, killed instantly by
the blast. Pulling one of the captured Colt 1911s from inside his
jacket Nick put four bullets into the man before jumping inside.
The other two men ran past and on to the next bus.

Nick spotted the keys on the man’s belt and pulled
them off before dragging the dead man out of the driving seat.
Before he could finish a woman tried to grab at him, probably
thinking he was one of these thugs. He pushed her back but in
seconds the bus was alive with activity. Though the passengers were
all awake they were obviously terrified and had said or done
nothing so far.

Nick turned around to face the passengers.

“We’re here to help you. Keep quiet and keep your
heads down. Are there any other prisoners here?” he shouted.

Some of the passengers kept talking but one was a
gunner from their own convoy. He shouted out to Nick.

“Nick, it’s me, Carter!” he called.

Nick signalled for him to come to the front.

“There were three others, they took them to the
other bus about an hour ago. That’s it,” he said.

“Glad to see you. How about our people, how many of
you made it?” asked Nick.

“Only eleven, they shot some of us on the way here!”
he shouted.

“Fuck!” muttered Nick.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out another
pistol and handed it to the man, indicating to the window on the
left. The young man moved to the window, watching for trouble. The
Johnson brothers were already back and climbed inside the bus.

“Just bodies on the bus, they all had their throats
cut, there’s some sick shit going on here,” said the younger of the
two.

The older Johnson smacked his little brother on the
head.

“Watch your language!” he said before turning back
to Nick. “Where’s Richard?”

“Dead,” he replied.

A bright flash lit up the area followed by a series
of gun blasts. This was quickly followed by the sound of shouting
and more gunfire.

“Good job,” said Nick, “come on, we haven’t got much
time, we need to go.”

Pushing the key into the ignition Nick twisted the
key and for a moment his heart nearly stopped, nothing happened. He
pulled out the key and then tried again, with a shudder the engine
started and the interior lights all lit up. Nick revved the engine
and then hit the lights switch, instantly lighting up the campsite
and revealing the swirling melee of bikers, men and zombies. There
were people on the ground and the zombies seemed to be getting the
upper hand already.

“Do it!” shouted Nick.

The older Johnson pulled out a squat looking pistol
and held it out of the closest open window. With a blast it fired
upwards, leaving a bright red trail behind. Nick put down the power
and the bus started to move slowly forwards.

Holes appeared in the windscreen as the raiders
attempted to halt their progress, but the fire was sporadic and
poorly aimed.

“They’d better get here fast,” shouted Nick as he
floored the accelerator and turned towards the entrance and a
number of armed guards.

The bus was heavily loaded down with people and took
quite some time to pick up speed. More bullets struck the glass and
a few made it inside, hitting the passengers. Some started to shout
and at least one started screaming. Carter and the brothers opened
their nearest windows and returned fire as best they could.

Several bright lights lit up ahead and then flashes
from a large number of weapons erupted. No bullets struck the bus
though and it rushed out of the entrance unscathed. As they moved
past the outer guard post Nick spotted their own armoured bus and
Land Rover bristling with men and weapons. Their fire was
overwhelming and it dealt with the immediate threat of the raiders
giving chase. As the bus continued off down the road the other two
vehicles turned and followed, all three heading for the opposite
motorway exit that would allow them to avoid the roadblocks set by
the raiders. It took just two minutes for their small convoy to
reach the motorway and the open road.

Nick pulled out the radio he’d been carrying.

“Why didn’t you use it earlier?” asked the younger
brother.

“Simple really, the raiders are well equipped and
these radios are just normal short range CB sets. They’re easy to
listen in on with any other CB equipment. We couldn’t take the
chance. Now we’re on the road the risk is worth it,” said Nick.

“This is Rescue One, we all good?” he asked on the
radio.

“Good to hear you, man. Yeah we’re all good here.
Did you get them all?” asked Jim in the armoured bus.

“Yeah, all that were left. Any sign of pursuit?”
asked Nick.

There was a silence for a short while.

“Looks clear at the moment, give it time though,
those bastards won’t let this lie.”

Nick nodded as he placed the radio on the
dashboard.

Carter moved up to the front of the bus to speak
with Nick.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We’re going to get to the Green Zone asap,”
answered Nick.

There was a scream from the back of the bus. Nick
looked in the large mirror but couldn’t quite see what was
happening.

“Carter!” he shouted, “take over!”

The young man grabbed the wheel and then slid into
position as Nick moved. The bus lurched a little to the left and
then continued on its straight path. Nick moved down the bus and
past the scared looking people. There was a struggle at the back.
He pushed past them until he was just a few feet from the rear. Two
men were holding down a woman and the other passengers were
shouting and trying to get away.

“She’s infected, look!” shouted the taller of the
two men.

Nick looked closely, the woman did have the tell
tale signs of a bite, she was pale and already biting and grabbing
at the two men. Either she had turned or soon would. In a year of
survival in the Zompoc Nick knew that once bitten you never
survived, it was just a matter of time before you turned.

“Everybody move back!” Nick shouted as he waved to
the front of the bus.

Nobody moved. Most of them were too stunned to do
anything.

Nick pointed the gun at the roof and fired a single
shot.

“Move! Now!” he shouted, this time they
listened.

As the group cleared just the two men and the pinned
woman remained. Nick stepped forward and hit the emergency open
lever on the rear door. With a hiss it swung open to reveal the
blackness outside. The two men grabbed the struggling woman and
dragged her to the door. Though slight in build she held on with
surprising strength. Nick held out his shotgun, placing it just a
foot in front of her chest. The woman showed no concern and simply
growled at the muzzle.

“Now!” shouted Nick and the two men jumped away from
the woman.

Without hesitating Nick pulled the triggers and put
two shells into her chest, blasting her into the motorway and into
the darkness. He turned back and returned to the front of the bus,
noting the groans and complaints from what they probably thought
was excess force in his part.

From out of the windscreen he noted the armoured
Land River overtake them and then take up position in front of the
bus. Nick turned back to the passengers, signalling with his hand
that they needed to listen.

“I know you’ve had a bad time, things are about to
get better though. We’re heading for the Green Zone. For those of
you who haven’t heard of it you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

A man stood up, shouting Nick down.

“What if we don’t want to come with you? What if
you’re no better than those raider bastards?” he asked angrily.

“It’s up to you. If you want to stay just say so and
we’ll let you out,” he gestured to the front door.

A young woman at the front waved to get his
attention.

“What is the Green Zone?” she asked.

“We set up the Zone over three months ago as a safe
area. We have food, clothing, weapons and you can get back to some
kind of a life. I suggest you all get some rest, it will be a few
hours before we get there and who knows what we’ll run into on the
way,” he said.

Nick slumped down into the front seat, opposite the
driver and for the first time in over six hours closed his
eyes.

The much depleted convoy continued down the
motorway, towards the Green Zone and to safety.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ENGLAND

Dave drove out with the usual crowd, some of the
idiots who had put them in such a sticky situation the day before.
Only one of the fools, Richard stayed behind. He said he was
feeling the effects of a cold. Each team of ‘collectors’ was six
men, four needed for missions, a further two were substitutes and
spare men enabling them to cycle people, accounting for illness and
exhaustion. The group went on, Dave, Tommy, and the other two
idiots from the day before. The task today was to raid a petrol
station seventy miles away, but safely on an A-road miles from any
major populace centre.

It was a hot day, too hot to be stuck inside a Land
Rover with very few ventilation areas and no cooling. All the
windows were covered with wire mesh and bars, restricting the
little airflow they could get into the vehicle. The vents running
beneath the windscreen could no longer open, restricted by the
windscreen protection they had fitted. Luxuries were something they
were becoming used to living without, but not quickly or
easily.

It took the group two hours to reach the service
station, going along small roads and keeping engine revs low to
conserve fuel. They arrived to the pleasant sight of an abandoned
area. In life before the Zompoc a desolate location was a
depressing one, but now it signified the kind of safety they
desired.