Zombie Dawn Exodus (26 page)

The Unimog trundled ever closer to the compound.
They were now past the suburbs and approaching the entrance to the
site. Up ahead was a damaged fence but there were no soldiers on
duty. Off to the right were five trucks, all abandoned and one was
burning. They kept moving towards the warehouse and the location of
the brightest flames. The Unimog smashed through the fence and into
the heart of the compound where an overturned pickup truck blocked
their route. With a squeal the Unimog pulled to a halt. Decker was
first out, quickly followed by his security unit.

Near the pickup were two men, one was trying to pull
a man out from underneath the vehicle, the other was swinging a
piece of metal at two attackers. Decker was experienced enough to
know his attackers weren’t soldiers, even though they were equipped
as such. They moved with the stiffness and aggression he’d seen
countless times before in his encounters with the undead.

“Secure the area, stay in sight of the Unimog and
don’t split up!” shouted Decker.

The small group fanned out so they could check the
area, each man left no more than twenty feet between them. Decker
ran over to the upturned pickup truck. As he moved he noted the
number of undead shambling around, there must be at least two
dozen, maybe more. Drawing his .45 he put three rounds into the
closest, clearing a path to the vehicle. Up ahead he noticed the
one man smash the piece of metal into the face of one of the
zombies whilst another knocked him down. Decker ran forwards and
kicked the creature, knocking it flat onto its back. He helped the
man up.

“I’m Decker, need a hand?” he asked.

Around the truck more of the zombies congregated,
each of them heading for the closest source of food. The man
reached out and shook his hand.

“Jackson. Thanks. We need to get out of here!” he
shouted.

“No shit!” said Decker. “What are you doing
here?”

“Some guys were robbing the place, we got caught up
in the middle,” he answered.

Decker was unconvinced. He signalled over to Tony to
give him a hand.

“Help them get this guy out, we need to get out of
here and fast,” he said.

Gunfire erupted from his unit as a group of zombies
emerged from the direction of the road and the abandoned vehicles.
His unit was well trained and half a dozen of them firing accurate
bursts easily cut the group down.

Tony helped the two men to pull the wounded man from
the truck.

“Anymore survivors?” asked Decker.

“Just Ford, I don’t know where he went though,”
answered Jackson.

Decker dragged them in the direction of the
Unimog.

“Come on, we need to go, now!” he shouted.

The two men in the cab of the Unimog jumped out,
helping them to lift the injured man onto the back of the vehicle.
The rest of the unit was already returning to the rear of the
truck. Terry moved up to Decker.

“There are stretchers, trolleys and a few bodies.
Looks like something pretty bad happened here,” he said.

“Yeah, come on,” replied Decker as he climbed up
onto the back of the truck.

With a loud rev the Unimog reversed into the low
wall and returned the route they’d arrived by. As they left the
compound Decker watched the burning skyline. The zombies were on
the move and in his experience they always found the living.

“Decker here, the compound is breached, they’re in
the open. I repeat they are in the open.”

After a short pause an unfamiliar voice came
back.

“Understood. Dr Murphy is on the evac chopper to the
coast. We have reports across the city of sightings of the undead.
We think the infection is spreading another way.”

“What do you mean?” asked Decker.

Jackson leaned forwards.

“Yeah, we saw something leaking out of the
warehouse. It turned the dead into zombies when it made contact
with them,” he said.

“You serious?” asked Tony.

“Bet your ass I’m serious, I saw three of them come
back to life in front of me,” he explained.

“We think the infection might be airborne,” he said
into the radio.

“One moment,” came the reply. There was no response
for almost twenty seconds.

“Decker, Murphy here. I’m on the way to the harbour.
Can you confirm the infection is airborne?” he asked.

“It looks that way, I didn’t see any bites or
injuries common with the usual spread of the infection on the
zombies,” he answered.

“Shit. Somebody must have damaged the containment
tanks. The good news is the chemicals have a half life of
approximately thirty days. The bad news is that means this site
needs to be put into immediate quarantine,” said Dr Murphy.

“Quarantine?” shouted an angry Decker.

“You know the drill. Anybody that has been in
contact with the infection will have to wait it out. In six months
the airborne virus will be impotent.”

The Unimog shook as it took a turn too fast and
clipped a road sign. Its weight and mass slammed it past the debris
and it ploughed on towards the harbour.

“We’re leaving the island in thirty minutes. We have
already sent an SOS to the flotilla. The RV Moreau is under three
hundred miles away and on her way to assist. Get to our vessel, the
Colossus by then or be left behind. Understood?” said Dr
Murphy.

“Affirmative,” answered Decker.

He moved up so that he could see over the top of the
cab. In was incredible, in such a short amount of time the peaceful
island was already in chaos. Fires were burning off to the left and
people were in the streets, heading for the evacuation zones at the
harbour. Decker was almost thrown into the cab as the Unimog
screeched to a halt. He leaned over, shouting at the driver.

“What’s wrong?” he called.

The driver pointed out into the street ahead. Decker
climbed up higher to get a better view. Two trucks were overturned
in the street and around them were at least two dozen bodies.

Jackson climbed up, watching ahead.

“Yeah, that looks like the trucks Ford came in. He’s
the one that let them out,” he said.

Decker looked at him with a little suspicion.

“Are you sure that’s his vehicles?”

“Pretty sure,” he answered.

A volley of shots came from the back of the Unimog
as the men spotted zombies approaching from behind.

“Decker! Come on!” shouted Tony.

Decker moved back to check, the zombies were growing
in substantial numbers and were hell bent on attacking those of
them that were still left.

“Where are they coming from?” asked a confused
Decker.

“Well, if it’s airborne, is it affecting anybody
that’s dead? What about the living?” said Tony.

Decker shrugged.

A hand appeared on the side of the Unimog, a sound
of a desperate man cried out.

“Help me, they’re everywhere,” he yelled before
being pulled back down.

Jason leaned over to try and help only to be grabbed
by the waiting hands of a dozen zombies. He tried to hold on but
they were too many and in seconds he was on the ground being bitten
and torn apart.

“Fuck!” shouted Decker as he fired round after round
into the group, making sure his first round put the mortally
wounded Jason out of his misery.

The rest of the group fired in all directions as yet
more and more of the undead appeared, all staggering towards the
immobile Unimog. Decker banged on the cab.

“Push past them!” he screamed whilst firing straight
ahead at the approaching zombies.

With a roar the Unimog lurched forwards and towards
the two wrecked trucks that blocked the road. With a crash they
smashed into the wrecks and pushed past surprisingly easily. With
the engine revving hard they were back onto their journey.

Decker turned back to the rest of his group.

“Make sure you’re ready. We are gonna hit the ground
running, understood?”

They all nodded and Decker climbed back to the rear
of the cab, watching the harbour area coming closer and closer to
them. Tony got up and joined him, passing several magazines.

“Thanks,” said Decker.

Up ahead, crowds of people were filling the streets
and heading for the shore. The emergency klaxons fitted days after
the outbreak were all blaring, warning people to stay indoors, not
that anybody was paying them any attention. The Unimog pushed on
down the street, the jetties now clear in the distance.

“Decker!” shouted Tony as he waved his arms off to
the right.

Decker turned, tracking the movement till he spotted
the problem. Two pickup trucks were approaching three blocks ahead
and to the right. They were obviously heading in the same direction
and would cut into their path shortly. The rattle of weapons fire
blasted ahead.

“The bastards are shooting the civvies!” shouted
Jackson.

Decker watched, his face showing the anger he felt
as the two trucks mowed down dozens of helpless people trying to
get along the road. He opened the rear hatch and popped his head
into the cab.

“We need to get in front of those bastards!” he said
pointing at the junction ahead. “If they get to the boat first
we’re screwed.”

The driver nodded and changed gear, moving the
lumbering truck at a slightly higher speed. The junction was now
only a block away and yet more people were filling the road. The
driver held down the air horn, making the people jump out of the
way.

“Look!” shouted Greg as he waved off to their left.
He picked up one of the rifles from the back of the truck and aimed
it off into the distance.

“I see them, a group of about thirty zombies are
coming from the industrial units. You see them?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Decker, “drop them!”

The men opened fire on any zombies they could see.
In a short time the creatures seemed to be spreading across the
island faster than at any time he’d ever seen. The Unimog sped past
the junction, Decker could see the approaching trucks were a block
away and moving fast. Out in front of them the sound of ship horns
blared as vessels moved away from the coast.

“Shit!” shouted Tony, are there gonna be any left
for us?”

The Doctor promised the Colossus would be waiting
for another...” he checked his watch, “seven minutes.”

The trucks were now on the same stretch of road and
accelerating towards them.

“What the fuck are they doing?” said Decker.

“No way!” shouted Jackson. “I know those trucks,
it’s Ford.”

Jonathan still dazed from the incident back at the
warehouse got up to look back. He muttered to Jackson.

“If that’s Ford he’ll fuck us for good,” he said
before slumping back down.

“He’s right,” said Jackson, “he doesn’t care who
suffers as long as he gets what he wants.”

Bright lights flashed from the approaching trucks
and Jonathan flew back against the cab, his torso was riddled with
bullet holes.

“Fuck!” shouted Jackson.

The rest of the men ducked down low and returned
fire. The one truck stayed behind them whilst the second sped to
their right and moved alongside the Unimog. Luckily for Decker the
lumbering Mercedes was substantially taller and from their vantage
point they could bring fire down on the hapless criminals firing
from the bed of the truck.

They fired long bursts from their carbines into the
men, killing two and blasting a third off the back and into the
street before the truck was able to speed past. Behind them the
other truck rushed at them and slammed into the back of the Unimog.
With a sickening crunch it jerked forward but its mass kept it
moving on.

They might have made it, apart from the fact that
the overtaking pickup truck clipped an abandoned car just as it
moved ahead. The impact spun its rear outwards and directly into
the path of the Unimog. This time mass wasn’t enough and the Unimog
slid first to the right and then as the driver overcompensated it
tipped over onto its side. Because of the speed they were
travelling the overturned truck slid a good hundred yards before
coming to a stop. Right behind it the other pickup swerved to avoid
the crash only to pile straight into one of the homes that ran
along the road and disappeared inside in a cloud of metal, dust and
debris.

* * *

Jackson was the first to drag himself out of the
wreckage. There were bodies all around the crash site. Some of them
he recognised, others he didn’t. As he checked the back of the
Unimog for survivors a burst of gunfire sent him diving for the
ground. From the side of the road a man approached, flanked by an
armed guard. The man wore a suit and upon approaching a wounded man
simply pointed the weapon at the man’s head and fired.

“Fuck,” muttered Jackson as he crawled through the
wreckage.

The sound of metal being dropped signalled the
driver was trying to climb out of the cab of the Unimog. He was
half out when another burst of fire caught him in the chest, he
slumped back inside. Jackson tried to slide back to the wreckage
but he was too slow, the man approached and stood in front of
him.

“Jackson, my, oh my, you got this far?” he
laughed.

You bastard!” shouted Jackson. “Why?”

“I have my own experiments,” he answered, whilst
scanning the distant jetties to make sure the boat was still there.
He then looked at his watch.

“Looks like you’re going to miss the last boat, too
bad,” he said as he raised his pistol.

A loud crack blasted next to Jackson’s face and Ford
staggered backwards. Jackson turned to see Decker kneeling and
holding out his automatic. Ford’s guard returned fire managing to
hit Decker in the leg. He fell back in pain, dropping the pistol.
Jackson stood up and smashed into the guard, knocking both men to
the ground. He may have caught him by surprise, but the guard was
stronger and more experienced and quickly spun him around and
forced his arm into a painful lock.