Zombie Dawn Exodus (23 page)

“Right, that should hold for at least a while, but I
bloody hope we get some help soon,” said Bruce.

They looked back at where they’d had been sitting,
their playing cards scattered across the floor, most of the
cushions taken and used in the barricade. This was a dire
situation, their vehicle’s defences were compromised and they had
nowhere left to play. Bruce sat down on the floor against a
sidewall.

“Make sure all your weapons are loaded and in order,
and you’re ready to go at a second’s notice. Either someone comes
to our rescue, or we have to fight our way out of here on foot,”
said Bruce.

“That’s suicide!” said Dylan.

“No, suicide is staying in here once our last
defence is finally breeched, I’d rather have a chance getting
through that crowd than to be trapped in here. Anyway, it’s a last
resort,” said Bruce.

The other men relaxed, resting against cupboards or
sitting down. Each of them checked their weapons and ammunition and
got everything ready. The horde outside continually tested their
defences, trying to break anything they could. All of the crew knew
that they probably had an hour left of safety at the most. Over the
groans of the creatures outside, Bruce suddenly noticed the sound
of something rather more industrial.

“Listen, can you hear that?” shouted Bruce.

“What?” asked Connor.

“Just listen, sounds like a vehicle,” said
Bruce.

They all stood and listened intently, the noise was
getting louder and louder. Bruce went to the back of the vehicle
and peered out of the barred window in his bedroom. The creatures
at the back of the crowd were already beginning to turn around and
pay attention. This could only be a good thing.

“Alright boys, this could be our way out. Make sure
you’re ready, get the ladder in position, we’ll be going out the
roof,” said Bruce.

He looked back to see the Beast storm into view five
hundred yards ahead, the sheer size and power of the thing overcame
him with joy.

“It’s the Beast!” Bruce shouted.

They all cheered, delighted at the fact that their
fellow survivors had not forgotten them. The huge Road Train truck
hit the first few zombies, it passed through them as if they were
paper, their bodies crumpling and being thrown aside. The Beast had
the characteristic huge chrome bars across the front, taller than a
man, though dulled and dirty now from a year of travel.

A hundred yards later the monstrous truck hit the
dense horde, the initial twenty zombies were crushed against the
ones in front of them. The huge roo bars of the vehicle ploughed a
channel through the bloody mess, as Moses parted the sea. No doubt
the stricken crew of the Hog saw this monster as their saviour in
such a hopeless situation.

Bruce was astonished about the nerve and initiative
shown by his fellow survivors. He’d become the leader of the group
quite naturally, by showing the most leadership. It always
concerned him then when the responsibility fell on someone else’s
shoulders. Bruce had always had to trust other people to work
alongside him, but trusting others to be in charge when his life
was at stake was a totally different matter.

The Beast was smashing its way ever closer to the
Hog, but the weight and mass of the horde being crushed against
them forced the RV flat against the shop and was beginning to
buckle parts of the vehicle. Finally, the truck drew to a stop in
parallel with the Hog and just a few feet away. The horde
immediately re-established their position around the two vehicles,
flooding them. The high sides were too much for the zombies to
overcome, but some were already attempting to climb onto the
footsteps and bonnet of the Beast.

“Get up on the roof, now!” shouted Bruce.

Dylan got up on the ladder and swung the roof hatch
open and he climbed out onto the flat top. He looked across to see
the hatch of the Beast opening on top of the caravan body that had
been retrofitted to the frame. Jake clambered out onto the roof,
followed by Amy. Jake pulled out a ladder from the hatch and swung
it across onto the roof of the Hog forming a causeway.

Bruce was the last one up onto the roof of the Hog,
Dylan and Connor were up on top, whilst the other two were already
safely across and jumping down the hatch. Amy racked the lever of
her Winchester and fired at a zombie trying to clamber from the
bonnet onto the roof. It collapsed onto its back on the bonnet.

“Come on!” shouted Jake.

“Connor, get your arse over there!” shouted
Bruce.

Connor made his way slowly across the ladder, whilst
Bruce spotted a zombie beating on the driver’s door of the Beast.
He drew his colt and took careful aim with both hands, firing at
the back of the knee. The shot caused the creature’s leg to fail
and its body tumbled back into the crowd.

“Dylan, go!” shouted Bruce.

Amy continued to fire carefully aimed shots at the
zombies attempting to clamber up from the front of the vehicle.
Bruce holstered his pistol and got onto the ladder, he ran across
it, not wanting to stop or lose balance. He stumbled clumsily over
onto the roof of the Beast, Jake taking his arm to help him the
last part.

“You’re a life saver!” shouted Bruce.

“Yet again, now get your arse inside!” shouted
Jake.

Dylan was making his way down the roof hatch as Jake
picked up the ladder and passed it on down with him.

“Amy, honey, time to go!” shouted Jake.

The girl had a zombie in sight that had got up onto
the bonnet and was climbing onto the roof, she pulled the trigger,
but only heard a click, the rifle was empty. She quickly moved back
to the hatch, Jake helping her in. Bruce raised his pistol and
fired a shot into the skull of the beast, killing it instantly.
Jake was clambering down the hatch.

“Bruce, let’s go!” shouted Jake.

Bruce moved to the hatch but looked up one last time
at the Hog, which had been his home for almost a year. It was a sad
day, to have had to leave everything behind once again. Looking to
the front of the vehicle, more creatures were already making their
way up towards the roof.

“Bruce, come on!” shouted Dylan.

He put his legs in through the hatch and dropped in,
pulling the hatch over behind him and clamping it down.

“Let’s get this thing moving!” shouted Bruce.

“Wilson! Get going!” shouted Jake.

The throaty engine roared as Wilson put some power
down, the powerhouse of a vehicle lurched forward, feeling like it
was pulling a heavy load due to the mass before it, but nothing
would stop it moving. The huge chrome bars pushed their way through
the massive horde for a few minutes until they were finally free.
Wilson got a few hundred yards up the road when he swung wide, and
stopped, turning the monster around, now facing the horde once
more.

“What are you doing?” asked Jake.

“That ain’t the way we want to be going. This is,
and I’ll be damned if those bastards will stop me!” shouted
Wilson.

Wilson again put the power down, this time with
nothing to stop him gaining speed. The truck roared back towards
the horde, reaching a good steady speed.

“Fuck you all!” screamed Wilson.

They hit the crowd, the occupants feeling a jolt as
the speed was reduced but not stopped. Blood spewed up across the
windscreen and bodies crumpled and were knocked aside. They were
again trawling through the massive horde. Moments later they broke
free, and Bruce looked out the back window to see the result of
their work. The killing streak of the Beast was barely noticeable
now as the horde simply merged again, shambling towards them as
they drove off into the distance. Bruce looked back at Jake,
grabbed his hand and shook it.

“You’re a true gent,” said Bruce.

“No worries, mate,” said Jake.

“That goes for your girl and that crazy bitch up
front too,” said Bruce.

The crew lay back on the seating that was available,
truly relieved.

“How many did we lose?” asked Bruce.

“Just Walter,” said Jake.

“We all knew he’d screw up at some point, and it
only cost him his own life,” said Bruce.

“Yes, but that was still one too many.”

“True,” said Bruce.

It felt like an age to get back to the rest of the
convoy. All of the men were still wearing their full equipment and
were sitting in the hot trailer, the open windows providing very
little fresh air. Finally they reached the encampment where all of
the survivors were gathered to greet then, having seen the huge
truck coming from miles away.

The vehicle came to a halt thirty yards from the
nearest RV. Bruce staggered out, hot, tired and bothered. He was
glad to be alive, but feeling rather disillusioned by the state of
the group.

“What the hell happened out there?” asked Keith.

“We got greedy, we got careless, and it cost us one
man’s life, a vehicle and a shit load of supplies,” said Bruce.

“Would you care to explain it to us?” asked
Keith.

Bruce walked up to Keith furiously. He grabbed him
by his shirt.

“No, I fucking wouldn’t you muppet! You can sit on
your arse and complain all you like, but the reality is shit
happens, sometimes it can be avoided, and this is a case of it. The
group has become lax lately, too much drink, too little focus,”
said Bruce.

Bruce shoved Keith away who stayed silent. The group
that had come to greet them was expecting to celebrate their
success, but Bruce had lowered the tone. He was furious with the
lax state that had overcome them all, and angry with himself for
being in part a cause of it as much as anyone else. Bruce paced up
and down, them all waiting for him to speak.

“You want to celebrate, don’t you? Celebrate what?
This is total shit, and the only people who should feel happy with
their actions today are the three who came to get us, the only
people who acted in good conscience with a sensible and safe course
of action.”

The crowd was gripped by Bruce’s words, shocked by
his negative outlook and sudden serious turn, but entirely
focused.

“We need to have a serious think about our future,
because we cannot continue this way. The cities are too dangerous
and the safer supplies are running thinner. This lifestyle will
keep us going for maybe another year, but the food and fuel isn’t
going to last forever,” said Bruce.

“What do you suggest?” asked Keith.

“I don’t have a suggestion. All I’m saying is we
must all give some serious consideration to the way we act each and
every day, and how we intend to stay alive for the years to come,”
said Bruce.

“But what do we do now?” asked Keith.

“Now, we have what we have, and there’s a city right
next to us full of undead fuckers. We need to get as far from it as
possible. Saddle up, we’re moving out right now, I want a new
vehicle before the week is over, and we’re heading on to new
lands,” said Bruce.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MID-WEST, UNITED STATES

Madison awoke a half hour after sunrise, earlier than
she had in a long time, the impeding threat being enough to keep
her from her usual deep sleep. Still wearing the clothes from the
day before, she slipped her shoes on and walked out of the house to
see what was going on. Half of the town’s people were already up
and out of their houses, beginning the preparations for the day
ahead. Jack was gassing his truck up with jerry cans, outside the
church where he’d left if the day before. Wells walked out of the
church with a loudhailer in hand. He held it up to his lips.

“Everyone not on guard is to meet in the square in
fifteen minutes,” he said.

Dale and his brother rode into view, each of their
horses tugging a truck along slowly into the centre of the
town.

“You’re stars!” shouted Madison.

“You just better hope they come back in the
condition they started in!”

“You mean dirty, dented and out of gas?” asked
Jack.

They chuckled. Both loved their trucks but were glad
to finally see them being put to work again. The brothers unhooked
the horses from their vehicles and walked over to the fuel bowser
that was parked up across the street from the church. They began
filling Jerry cans that were stacked alongside it to get their
vehicles ready for their new drivers. The people were already
amassing in the square, much quicker than Wells had ordered, which
pleased him. The Pastor again got up onto the bed of Jack’s truck,
looking up to see the last few people arrive and waiting for him to
speak.

“Firstly I want to thank you all for your prompt
arrival, the safety of our homes is at stake, and the
responsibility to defend it falls equally among us all!” said
Wells.

The crowd listened intently, still silent and unsure
of exactly what the next few days were going to involve. Most of
the crowd was well armed with rifles, shotguns and handguns, as
well as an assortment of close quarter weapons. There wasn’t a
person among them that was completely unarmed, just as per their
rules. Pastor Wells was wearing a black combat vest over his usual
clothing, the white collar still visible, a thigh leg holster slung
on his right hip with a glistening revolver hanging from it. This
sight was a shock to them as he’d always carried his handgun
concealed, but now saw the necessity to be equal among his
people.

“The next few days are going to be some of the
hardest, if not the worst days we have ever seen, but they have one
saving grace. When this war began we were caught unawares, with our
trousers down some might say. Survivors were scattered, with few
supplies and no hope of a home or community. That is not the fight
we face now, now the ball is in our court. We’re working as one, as
an organised and determined community. We have the supplies, the
manpower, the ammunition and the skills we need. We’re going to
fight these creatures, and we are going to send them back to hell!”
shouted Wells.