Zombie Dawn Exodus (24 page)

The crowd cheered, inspired by their spiritual
leader to do the very best they could. Many of the people waved
guns in the air, an unnerving sight after a pastor’s speech, but a
comforting one nonetheless.

“Greg, you’re in charge of construction, get us some
sturdy walls around the church and surrounding buildings, be sure
to leave us as escape route to the east, God forbid we should need
it. Madison, you’re on vehicle duty, assemble as many vehicles you
can, a selection of buses and trucks, get them operational and
armoured up. I will now leave you with Jack, who will handle the
combat side of things, good luck and God speed,” said Wells.

“We move out in ten minutes, be sure you have plenty
of ammunition on all the trucks, and that the Molotov’s are safely
secured. Also be sure to have water and basic food onboard. All who
are coming with me assemble here once the trucks are ready so I can
explain the strategy. That’s it, good luck to all of you,” said
Jack.

The town square erupted into motion, each person
going about their appointed job. Ten minutes later the drivers and
crews of the vehicles, thirty five in total, were assembled at the
vehicles, all awaiting Jack’s final words.

“It’ll be about a four hour drive to get out to the
horde, so conserve food and water. We have a lot of ammunition, but
there’s also a shit load of zombies. We’ll have a simple policy. We
stop three hundred yards in front of the horde and turn around so
we face back towards home. We’ll stay in a line, three vehicles
wide on the road, with a truck each side on the grass. Nobody
begins firing until they reach a hundred yards and then keep firing
till they reach thirty yards, no less than twenty. We then fire up
the trucks and drive on a hundred yards, repeating the process. No
truck moves without the group, and no one fires until I give the
word each time we stop. Drivers will be our eyes to the sides and
rear, all clear?” said Jack.

“How about the Molotovs?” asked Billy.

“They have a pretty short range so they’ll be the
last things we use each time the horde closes to twenty yards. I
want engines running every time the horde reaches fifty yards. If
at any time a truck won’t start or move, you jump to another and
leave it behind. Remember, headshots are what bring these bastards
down best, so use your ammunition wisely, anything else?” said
Jack.

The crowd shook their heads, there was probably a
lot more Jack should tell them, but time was a luxury they didn’t
have.

“A couple more things, those with shotguns, use the
buckshot and solid slugs we have as much as possible, save the
birdshot for the defence of Babylon where the ranges will better
suit it. Also, once the firing begins, we don’t want to be doubling
up targets, we’ll be in a line of five vehicles, therefore divide
the horde up into five quadrants, in proportion to where your
vehicle is in our formation, and keep your shooting to those areas.
Right, let’s load up!” shouted Jack.

The fighters poured into the vehicles as the engines
fired up. Madison and Wells watched them from the entrance of the
church as they drove out of the town. Madison had her beloved AK
slung on her shoulder as ever, though she knew it would likely not
fire a shot for a few days.

“It’s time we all got on,” said Wells.

“Alright guys, let’s move!” shouted Madison.

The four men assigned to her followed her down the
southern road, towards her old school where she hoped to find some
working buses. The men she led had little respect for her before
the Zompoc, but the fact she was the Pastor’s daughter forced them
to at least be publicly polite. However, her capable skills over
the last year had made them all re-consider their opinions of
Madison, and they were now happy to work alongside her. One of the
men pulled a horse with four Jerry cans slung over its back, two
gas and two diesel. Another man pulled a donkey along with all
manner of tools slung over it, from crowbars to sledge hammers.

“We’ll go for the buses to begin with, they’ll allow
us to haul the maximum number of people and supplies, so they are
our priority,” said Madison.

It was an hour’s walk to her old school, it being
the other side of town, a walk she had become so familiar with, but
it now shared little with her memories. Despite the survivors’
efforts to maintain the area they now called Babylon, the edge of
town had been left to decay. Many of the shop windows were smashed
from either fighting or the gathering of supplies. Old clothing and
paperwork was scattered across the street, with dirt and dust
everywhere. It looked like it was a ghost town.

The group finally reached the school, almost all of
the old metal railings and wire fence having been taken by the
survivors to fortify their homes and vehicles. The dusty old yellow
bus was already in view, with the rear of another behind it. They
carefully ventured towards the vehicles, weapons drawn. This part
of town was abandoned, but there was always the threat of zombies
in any area that wasn’t protected at all times. Madison led the way
past the first vehicle, the second’s front end was parked inside a
large workshop. The hood was off the bus and parts and tools were
strewn about, clearly it was being worked on a year before.

“How bad is it?” asked Madison.

Joey stepped a little closer, a young and capable
mechanic. He stuffed his head into the engine bay and tinkered
around for a minute before looking up.

“I don’t know exactly what’s wrong here, but I guess
it was a big job, it’ll likely need a day to fix, assuming we can
find all the parts,” said Joey.

“That won’t do, leave it, let’s check the other, the
keys should be in that office in the corner,” said Madison.

Joey grabbed the keys and boarded the bus, turning
the ignition the fuel gauge was on empty, having already been
siphoned. The big diesel block turned over and kicked into life,
black smoke bellowing from its exhaust.

“Cut it, and get some fuel in that tank!” shouted
Madison.

“Fucking hell, always wanted to drive one of these
things,” said Joey.

“Let’s work on getting this bus up and running
today, so we know we at least have one solid vehicle to haul people
and kit. Joey, I want you to give it a good look over underneath,
make sure everything is solid. The rest of you, time to go looking
for any bars, mesh, anything you can get. I want this bus fully
operational and armoured before the day is out. I also want some
kind of plough on the front, we may have to force our way through
those bastards, and this could well be the vehicle to do it. I’ll
stay here on watch whilst Joey’s working,” said Madison.

* * *

Far from the long boring drives Jack was used to, it
was an anxious drive to face their enemy, as it always was when you
were en route to a battle. Jack had been praying to find nothing,
to discover that they’d changed direction, or were just a figment
of his imagination, or that the numbers weren’t as large as he had
estimated. Finally after several hours the horde came into view,
that same sea of foulness that had shocked them the first time. He
could hear the people sitting in the truck bed gasp at the sight of
them. Jack rolled down his window and slid the divider across
behind him.

“This is it lads, follow my lead and stick to the
plan!” shouted Jack.

They drove up in front of the horde, a column along
the road and track beside it for as long as they could see. The
vehicles turned around in convoy like a snake, until they were
facing back towards Babylon. Jack’s lead truck came to a slow halt
and the other vehicles forked off around him, forming up in line.
He stepped out from the passenger seat, his bushmaster carbine
slung across his body. Jack was now wearing a combat vest over a
t-shirt, holstered pistol and sunglasses, looking like a private
contractor from the human war he’d once fought in.

“This is it people, you have a few minutes before
they get within range, be sure that all your weapons are in order
and ammunition within reach, have the Molotovs ready too!” called
Jack.

The horde shambled on, completely unaffected by the
hunting party’s presence. Slides racked and bolts clicked as the
survivors made themselves ready for the first wave. Jack swung his
grab bag around to the side of his body and threw the lid open,
ready to dispose of his empty magazines, he was stood beside the
bed of his truck. All went silent among the hunting pack, all
ready, only awaiting their command to release hell upon the
creatures. Sweat dripped from their brows as the heat beat down on
them and the stress weighed heavy.

“Fire!” shouted Jack.

The first shots rang out like a musket volley,
followed by a random but almost continuous sound of gun shots, as
the different weapons and users fired at their own speed. Bodies
dropped across the frontline of the horde, the column behind them
simply stepping through or over their dead and crippled. The guns
kept firing, blood splattered and bodies fell along the line, but
the horde kept going. Finally they were within forty yards and
getting nearer.

“Molotovs! Get the Molotovs!” shouted Jack.

The crews each began to take up the first of their
Molotovs, lighting the rags that hung from them.

“Cease fire! Now!” shouted Jack.

Five Molotovs were hurled against the crowd. Two
struck the very nearest, shattering and sending flames across the
front of their column. The other three disappeared into a fiery
mass among them. Those creatures behind the ones on fire began to
slow as their path was blocked, with others forcing through in a
more dispersed manner.

“That’s it, let’s move!” ordered Jack.

He jumped onto the edge of the truck bed as the
vehicles lurched forward and ambled along the track. All of the
crew began to put their weapons down to cool and take up their
second weapons. Jack unclipped his carbine and sat it in the truck
bed, picking up his rifle of the same calibre which shared
magazines. He banged on the top of the roof, signifying the line to
stop, before leaping off the side.

“Right, that was a good first run. Keep calm, keep
the routine and we’ll be home for dinner before you know it!” Jack
shouted to them.

This mass culling continued all day, and the column
rolled into Babylon at nine o’clock that evening. The westerly wall
was now complete, a combination of overturned trucks, trailers,
cars and building supplies, all lashed together. The five vehicles
came to a halt outside the church as before. The crews were dusty
and exhausted, many slept through the journey home. Wells stepped
out of his church to greet them, alongside Madison.

“Jack, how did it go?” asked Wells.

“We gave them hell, but I have no idea if it will be
enough, maybe we’ll have a better idea after tomorrow,” said
Jack.

“Maybe tomorrow! This is our home we’re talking
about, everything we have fought and died over!” shouted Wells.

Jack looked up with a disgusted look at the Pastor.
He stormed up to the man and grabbed him by the straps of his
combat vest.

“How about you show a little appreciation?”

“I, I,” said Wells.

“We’re all working our god damn asses off, doing the
best we can with what we have. If that isn’t enough, then that’s
simply it!” shouted Jack.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I just need this to work,” said
Wells.

“We all do,” said Jack.

“Let’s call it a day and sit down for some food,
guys,” said Madison.

“Sure, let’s do that,” said Wells.

“Listen up! Time for chow, but once you’re done,
make sure before you turn in you thoroughly clean and oil all the
weapons you used. We need them in full working order for the
morning,” said Jack.

The next two days continued in much the same fashion
as the first, passing much quicker than anyone could have imagined.
Finally on the fourth day, the tired survivors awoke for what they
knew would be their last chance. The horde was now just ten miles
from Babylon when the survivors woke up for that final chance.

Madison stepped out of her house to see Jack’s teams
loading their weapons beside the trucks, the rest of the populace
assembling weapons alongside the makeshift walls to their town. She
climbed a car that was forming a firing step behind an overturned
tractor trailer. She gasped at the sight of the horde in the
distance, like a dark snake creeping towards them. Madison climbed
back down and walked towards to the church.

“I don’t care how many there are, you get out there
and fight!” shouted Wells.

“We’re just wasting ammunition, we can’t stop them!”
shouted Jack.

“Then we will fight them on the walls!” said
Wells.

“Do you know anything about sieges?” asked Jack.

“Stop it! Now!” shouted Madison.

The two men looked at her, already calmed slightly
by her presence.

“Jack wants us to just pack up and leave our homes,”
said Wells.

“And what if we don’t do that?” asked Madison.

“Then the town will be swamped, we’ll be trapped
here, assuming the defences hold. We’d just have to hope to kill
them over time, but that is not likely,” said Jack.

“What other options do we have?” she asked.

“They could go out and fight as they have the last
few days, and hope to whittle their numbers down enough to make the
defence possible,” said Wells.

“Jack, maybe leaving is the best thing to do, but
what about morale. After all this work, we just leave? That’s it?
So what if we can’t beat the horde, wouldn’t everyone feel a whole
lot better that we had at least given it our best shot?” asked
Madison.

Jack sighed. He was annoyed about having to give
civilian emotions a consideration when in a military situation, but
the harsh reality that almost everyone he commanded was a civilian
struck the message home to him.