Dawson closed the now empty firing tube and replaced the end caps, securing them with a pair of cotter pins. She stared at me blankly. “They didn’t stand a freaking chance,” she said. Her voice was hoarse.
“They were going to kill us, Kate,” I said firmly. “If we hadn’t fought back one of those fire bombs would have hit its target.”
“The creeps are the enemy,” she said flatly. “I hate this. I freaking hate this!”
I handed Kate my water bottle. “It’s good that you feel lousy taking them down, Dawson. It shows you’re still a human being. You did your job and that’s all that matters right now. Are you going to be okay – we’ve got to keep moving.”
She nodded. “Yeah – I’ll get past this.”
“Good,” I said, as I crawled back to the crew commander’s hatch. I motioned for Jo to head back to the rear of the carrier, and then slipped my crew commander helmet over my head. She climbed across my lap, the heel of her shoe digging uncomfortably into my groin, and she whispered in my ear.
“Kate Dawson kicks butt.”
I snorted, and peered through my periscope. The creeps were bearing down on us fast. “You bet she does. We gotta jet. The creepers are getting a bit too close for comfort.”
“Okay, David,” she shouted as she wedged her frame around the turret cage and then back to her spot by the rear doors.
The radio hissed loudly in my ears. “We have to pull out now, Dave!” said Pam Cruze.
“Roger that,” I answered. “Doug … get us the hell out of here!”
He raised his thumb over his shoulder as the carrier raced forward until we’d resumed our place in front of Ark Two.
Two and a half hours since we’d left the armory, and already we’d been in a fight for our lives. I could only hope that there weren’t any other human-made surprises in store as we pushed on. But it would be only a matter of time until we ran into a smarter, better-armed group of survivalists who’d kill their own mothers to take our two carriers and all our supplies. I just hoped like hell we’d keep our wits about us when the time came.
Were we murderers because of what we’d just done? A large part of me felt like a murderer, even though we’d have been dead if they’d had their way. Can you be a murderer when law and order are distant memories and the only things you can count on are the bullets in your gun and the people in your tribe?
And that’s what we were, as our APC’s rumbled along the riverbank. A small, heavily armed nomadic tribe.
At least, with the living dead, we knew who our enemies were. I decided that if we were going to survive, then we’d have to somehow learn about our other enemy – the ones that looked like us.
Kate was right, this sucked.
Big time.
11
Journal Entry: 14 NOVEMBER 1800 HRS ZULU – Breakout Complete.
Ten hours have passed since we broke out of the armory and we’re having a quick break to eat. I honestly didn’t think we’d be in a fire fight with other survivors. I thought they’d see our two APC’s and run like hell, but I was wrong about that. I can only hope we aren’t wrong about making it to Sanctuary base.
The noise from our APC’s has attracted every creep within earshot – that small army we encountered back in Montgomery has morphed into something the size of a brigade. Cruze has been sending me a situation report every ten minutes, and she figures there has to be easily a thousand or more of them – but they’re a few kilometers behind us, thankfully. Who knows, maybe they’ve found some other survivors to swarm.
Back at the armory, I had no idea how bad things were in the outside world. Every burned-out house and boarded up gas station we passed had a few creeps lurking around. Sometimes we see a lone monster shuffling up the middle of the thoroughfare opposite the riverbank like a stray animal. Sid, with trademark black humor, has decided to call monsters that cluster in tiny groups happy wanderers.
Dawson and Sid have been snapping at each other off and on all day. I don’t know what’s going on with those two – ever since Kate threatened to flatten Sid, they’ve been bickering about the stupidest crap in the world. The good news is that Doug has gotten us clear of the city and we’re going to be in open country soon. I’ve just radioed Cruze to see how her team is handling things – Mel is pretty shaken up about our close call with that Brinks truck. Hell, we’re all pretty shaken up.
Tomorrow I’m hoping we can make a hundred kilometers or better. It’s wishful thinking but right now that’s all we’ve got.
***
We crossed Bearspaw Dam Road. We were far enough from built-up areas that I decided it would be safe to go hatches up – but only after we’d circled one another to do a visual inspection for cling-ons. Not the Star Trek ones.
I decided to poke my head up first to have a look around; carefully opening my hatch door after Cruze gave me the all clear. The first thing I noticed was the slightly fresher air. The stench of death and decay was more pronounced in the center of the city; on the outskirts it simply lingered, like when you catch a whiff of road-kill skunk from about three miles up the highway.
According to my map, we were at least a thousand meters from Lynx Ridge – a collection of million-dollar homes on one acre lots with expensive views of the river valley. Our vehicles were exposed, being on low ground, but ahead were foothills that rolled out before me like a carpet. We’re safely outside the city now, but only by inches on a map, and there was still that army of monsters splashing through the swift-moving current of the Bow River somewhere behind us.
I glanced at my watch. We had about an hour of daylight left and my carrier had already burned half a tank of fuel. I didn’t want anyone setting foot outside once darkness fell, so it was on me to identify a relatively secure spot on the map, with an easy way out in case we wound up getting swarmed.
“Okay,” I said into my radio. “It all looks clear from my vantage point. It’s safe to go hatches up, but I think we should all be carrying our personal weapons and keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks like the tiniest of threats.”
“Roger that,” Cruze replied, as our carrier slowed down to a crawl. I glanced down to see Doug Manybears flip open his hatch and take a huge gulp of fresh air.
“Remind me again why I wanted to be a driver?” he shouted.
“Because you haven’t rolled a vehicle yet,” I said jokingly, patting him on the shoulder. “We made it out of the city and it’s an hour until last light. We’re going to have to fuel up soon, I think.”
“Yeah,” he said grimly. “We’re gonna want to go scrounging sooner rather than later, I bet.”
“We will, but not today. We’re still too close to the city – we can scrounge once we hit a rural village. A smaller human population means fewer creeps.”
Ark Two pulled up beside us in a cloud of dust. I noticed the sides of their vehicle were relatively free of zombie gore, which was better than I could say for ours. Streaks of black slime stretched from the trim vane all the way to the front tires and I spotted a hand stuck in the camouflage net to the right of the driver’s hatch. Cruze opened her hatch and emerged with a look of determination on her face. She pulled off her crew commander’s helmet and I noticed a pair of black smudges just below her penetrating blue eyes. She was about five foot eight, a couple of inches shorter than me, and it was hard to tell if Cruze was a male or a female in her baggy crew suit. She grabbed a rag out of her back pocket and wiped her face clean and stuffed it inside her helmet.
“What are you gawking at?” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” I answered, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“I see … well, the creeps are a good distance back,” she said with a huge stretch. “God, I am so glad to straighten my legs. I’m all cramped up.”
Sid Toomey emerged from the turret and fished a cigarette out from the breast pocket of his combat jacket. He flipped open a Zippo lighter with a flick of his wrist and lit up, taking in a deep haul.
“We made it, huh?” he said, eyeing our surroundings.
Dawson waved her hand in front of her face to blow away Sid’s second hand smoke. “We don’t need to worry about the creeps killing us. Disgusting habit, Sid.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders and blew a mouthful of smoke in Dawson’s face. “Meh – it’s the end of the world. I’m gonna smoke. Deal.”
In seconds all the hatches on both vehicles were wide open. Everyone kept a close eye on their prescribed arcs of fire as Cruze hopped over onto the hull of Ark One to discuss our next move. Dawson reached down and lifted Jo up onto the hull. She grabbed a rag from her back pocket and gently wiped away the dirt collecting around my little sister’s eyes. “Just sit tight on the hatch door, Jo,” she said. “I don’t want you falling, okay?”
Jo nodded and emitted a loud yawn. “I will, Katie. Um, anything I can do to help you out? You look pretty tired.”
Dawson threw Jo a warm smile. “Wait a minute … you’re taking care of me? I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you. See, this is what happens when you become a teenager, Jo. Your mind starts to go.”
Jo snorted as her eyes slid in my direction. “We all take care of each other! That’s one of my rules.”
“That’s a good rule, Jo!” I shouted. “Thanks for taking care of everyone. You get to be our social worker.”
A chill breeze blew in, carrying a hint of precipitation, as Cruze and I hunched over my map. She peeled the wrapper off a granola bar and took a huge bite off the end.
“How are your people, Cruze?”
“A little shaken up,” she said, between chews. “At least back at the armory we had a defensible position. Out here, not so much.”
“No freaking doubt – but everyone knew the risks when we decided to break out … at least I thought we knew the risks.”
She pointed to the map. “Everyone knows we couldn’t stay there and we’ve made it more than twenty-five kilometers today. That’s a hell of an accomplishment when you think about the fact that we had to fight our way out. If you’re bummed about those guys back at the overpass, don’t be.”
I nodded. “I know … the rules have changed. Yadda-yadda.”
Cruze pursed her lips tightly. “The rules are that we’re making up rules as we go along, but you want to know something?”
“What’s that?”
“Even before Day Zero, every single person living on the planet was facing their own deaths every day, only it wasn’t creeps they faced; it was drunk drivers or some mentally disturbed guy going postal at work or cancer or any of the bazillion other things that kill people. The only thing that makes this shit feel worse is the fact that we’re not the top dogs anymore.”
I nodded. “We’re the hunted now instead of the hunters.”
She slapped my shoulder and then cocked her carbine for effect. “Yep … but who says any one of us still breathing has forgotten how to be a hunter. There might be more of them than there are of us, but I can shoot a round up the backside of a gnat from a thousand meters away. The creeps? All they can do is stumble and swarm and that’s it. If we keep working as a team, we can beat the bastards back, no question about it.”
Now that took me by surprise. There I was thinking that I had to keep strong for everyone in our group and I hadn’t once considered that someone might be trying to keep it together for me. I felt the tiniest spark of hope deep inside my chest at Cruze’s very practical outlook. She was right. Zombies were just another form of dying that we could add to a growing list. Human beings had faced down any number of calamities in the past; Day Zero was just modern man’s cataclysmic event. Six hundred years ago the Black Death wiped out nearly sixty percent of humanity in Europe and human beings managed to bounce back. Time was actually on our side if we lived long enough. The creeps were just walking cadavers, each one slowly decomposing with every passing day.
I folded up the map and stuffed it in the pocket of my combat trousers. “Thanks for the pep talk, Cruze,” I said.
“No problem … let me see the map again.”
“Why?”
“I just need to check something, alright?”
Feeling slightly annoyed, I pulled the map out of my pocket and handed it to her. Cruze unfolded it across the hull and pointed to the spot I’d chosen to go to ground.
“What is it?” I asked as she placed her index finger and thumb on the distance scale, moving quickly to the black dot I’d picked for our crew to go to ground for the night.
“I think we’re still too close to built-up areas, Dave. The place you’ve picked isn’t far enough from Airdrie. The creeps will hear our vehicles … that or a repeat performance of what we dealt with in the city.”
“Well I’m not the world’s greatest navigator, Cruze, but the area is heavily wooded and it’s the highest feature on the map for miles. There’s a utility road in and out in case we need to leave in a hurry.”
She grunted and pointed to another high feature about an inch away from where I’d plotted our route. “I think you mean this one here,” she said, tapping the other hill with an index finger. “Are you sure you picked the right spot because I’m not convinced.”
“Geez … you go from giving me a pep talk to questioning my route?” I said with a tinge of sarcasm in my voice.
Cruze spun around and pointed the map in the opposite direction from our route. She ran a finger along the shaky black line I’d scrawled onto the map as we broke out of the city and then lifted her head and gazed out on the horizon.
“You know what? Never mind.” she said finally. “I don’t like the place you’ve picked but we voted you in charge and the last thing we need is a disagreement because we all have to support each other. If we get knee-deep in the shit, we can pull out in a hurry.”
I glanced at the map and then shifted my gaze to Cruze. “Well … we could still go to the high feature you picked but we’d burn more fuel getting there.”
She slugged me hard in the arm and then deftly jumped over to her APC. “Don’t sweat it. Anyway, we probably wouldn’t make it to my spot with any daylight left to scout the area. We also don’t need the others to see us disagreeing on anything. Team cohesion and all that shit. So what’s the plan?”
I gazed out at the rooftops dotting Lynx Ridge. “We fuel up to three quarters of a tank and press on until we’re in open country.”
“Fair enough,” she said, turning on her heels. “Mel, get out the fuel kit and dump one Jerry can in the tank. Kenny, put together a sentry list for tonight. We’ll stay inside with the combat locks on until first light, and then we’ll press on in the morning.”
Kenny and Mel both gave Cruze a thumbs-up as I turned my eyes to my section. “Same thing for us. Sid, throw in one can of diesel and Kate, get the sentry list going. We pull out in ten minutes!”
12
The crest I’d chosen to go to ground was surrounded by eight-foot-high scrub brush, providing excellent concealment for both carriers. Doug and Kenny parked back-to-back; the APC’s facing east and west to give both turrets a 360 degree field of vision for our night sentries. We couldn’t open the rear doors without the interior lights spilling into the darkness and giving away our position, so any interaction between Arks One and Two would have to be via radio. The swarm following had to be more than 15 km behind us – we’d gunned our engines to about 30 km/hr and driven cross country for 45 minutes after we fuelled up. I estimated there was little chance they’d catch up to us by first light – we’d still be about three or four clicks ahead, and that was a conservative estimate. The ground was uneven and there were cattle fences stretched out across former farmland, as well as a host of other man-made obstacles.
But that didn’t mean we were going to kick back and relax. Each one of us was determined to stay vigilant. One thing you learn when you’re a soldier is the reasons why things are seen: shape, silhouette, shadow, spacing, texture, light and movement. There’s also the other issue of noise. Sound travels
farther at night, because you don’t have to compete with every other living thing that might be awake during the daytime, though since Day Zero, cities and towns had fallen silent. The only sounds we’d heard from the safety of the armory were the creeps shuffling around the city and sporadic gunfire in the distance. Now that we were in open country, we’d have to invoke stricter discipline during the silent hours.
We’d pulled blackout covers over all the viewing ports in the carrier, and the interior of our machine was now bathed in red light, which took everyone a few minutes to adjust to. White light can seep through blackout covers and draw attention to your position, but red light is far less noticeable.
I sipped on a drinking box of orange juice with my back to the rear doors while Kate brushed Jo’s long red hair, trying not to tug the small hairbrush too hard every time she encountered a knot. It was shortly past eight o’clock, and we’d been out of the armory now for more than fourteen hours.
“How’s everyone holding up?” I asked as I watched Sid dole out foil packages of rations from the simmering pot of water over a portable mountain stove.
He sniffed loudly as he pulled a hunting knife out from its sheath; slicing open a steaming hot bag of corn beef hash. “I’m good … all things considered,” he said, poking his knife around the contents. “MMMM … corn beef hash. This is just like Christmas dinner.”
Dawson slipped the hairbrush back into her rucksack and then began to braid Jo’s hair. “We’re going to have to cut your hair one of these days, Jo. It’s getting pretty long now.”
Jo flashed me a toothless grin as I opened her pouch of ravioli and blew inside to cool it off. “Maybe I could get my hair chopped like Pam. Or maybe a Mohawk!”
The North: A Zombie Novel Page 8