Zombie Dawn Exodus

by Michael G. Thomas

  Since the outbreak a year earlier, most of the personnel and naval vessels normally stationed at the joint base had been used in actions throughout the Pacific. It was normal to find a dozen destroyers, frigates and cruisers and the same number of submarines there at any one time. Now the only vessels remaining were those that had been undergoing major work or that had been abandoned in the first three weeks. Without supplies and personnel these mighty grey vessels were just lumps of steel, left to rust. The number of personnel now numbered just a few hundred, and many of these were out manning outposts on the numerous islands or guarding key buildings and ships.

  Three Los Angeles class, nuclear attack submarines were tied up together. Each of them moved gently in the waters, vessels now without a role and impotent without a crew. A jetty ran from the boats to the mainland where a small barracks and several vehicles were parked. Around this area ran a tall wire fence with just one entrance, itself guarded by a three man Marines unit.

  “Ok, there they are,” said Jackson.

  At the security point a substantial metal barrier blocked the road inside. Sitting in chairs nearby were the three Marines, each of them wearing little in the way of personal armour or protection. They were laughing and playing a game of some kind.

  “You know the plan, Ford doesn’t want casualties. The important thing is we need to get into the armoury. Don’t forget, from our information they could have up to another five or six men inside,” he said seriously.

  “Are we sure the weapons are there?” asked Jonathan.

  “No reason to think they aren’t. The last information Ford received said all the ammunition for the flotilla and the garrison was being stored at this site. Come on, let’s get started,” he said, as he crept forward towards the fence.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ENGLAND

  Nick opened his eyes but everything stayed as a blur. He shook his head and the pain hit him immediately. He closed his eyes and then opened them again slowly. Everything was dark, apart from a bright object to his right. He tried to reach out to the light but he couldn’t move. Darkness replaced the light and he felt something brush past him. He started to struggle before hearing what sounded like voices. He kept still and listened, it was almost as though it was his name. He concentrated then something struck his cheek, it stung but amazingly his hearing improved a little.

  “Nick, Nick, can you hear me?” asked the voice.

  Once again he tried to open his eyes, the light was starting to break up into colour and it looked like he was still inside the ambulance.

  “Nick?” came the voice, it was now starting to sound like Artur.

  With a final shake of his head the view started to improve and he could see the inside of the ambulance. To his right Artur was cutting at the seatbelt that he must have put on during the struggle. Moving his head over to the left his attention was brought to the scene through the cracked windscreen. There were two motorcycles and a trike along with several bodies nearby. What looked like Jim and one other were walking along, checking the bikes, probably for ammunition or supplies. Off to his left was the Land Rover, and at the side was the bus though it looked like it had taken some damage in the battle.

  Artur loomed up close to his face.

  “Nick, are you okay? We have a problem,” he said.

  There was a ripping sound and Nick was finally free of the belt. Artur helped him up and out of the vehicle. Nick looked around at the scene of the battle. There were bullet casings and blood all around as well as a good many more bodies than he would have expected.

  “Problem?” asked Nick. “Where did all these bodies come from?”

  “Okay, actually we have several problems,” said Artur with a grin.

  Nick was still feeling a little light headed and his hand reached out to the ambulance to steady himself.

  “Where are the bikers?” he asked.

  “Dead,” answered Artur, “well, apart from the one we captured.”

  “Captured?” asked Nick.

  “Yeah, the fight was pretty much over after you crashed your ambulance here into their van. The last guy tried to get away on his bike. Jim shot him in the shoulder and he crashed over there,” said Artur, as he pointed out into the distance.

  Nick was feeling much better already and was glad to take a few gulps of water from Richard when he appeared.

  “You feeling a bit better? Some nice moves there!” he said.

  Nick tried to smile.

  “Any news on the rest of the convoy?” asked Nick.

  Artur looked solemn and then waved over to Jim who joined them at the ambulance.

  “Good to see you back, thought we’d lost you for a while there,” he said.

  Jim took pad of paper from his jacket and handed it over to Nick. It was small and the cover was folded back to reveal hastily written details of some kind of camp.

  “What is this?” asked Nick.

  “We’ve been getting information out of our prisoner for the last twenty minutes. It looks like they’ve set up a raiding camp nearby, just off the motorway. They’re vultures, feeding off travellers on the main routes,” he said with a disgusted tone to his voice.

  Nick examined the pages in detail. The first page showed the motorway and a series of roads leading to an area described as the camp. He turned the page to find a list of vehicles and numbers.

  “Holy shit, you got this from the prisoner?” he asked.

  Jim nodded in acknowledgement. Looking back at the pad Nick was astounded at how large the operations were that these people were running.

  “It says here they have over forty prisoners including our people. It also says they have over fifty people, all armed?” asked Nick.

  “That’s what he says,” said Jim.

  “Why are they taking prisoners?” asked Nick.

  “I don’t know. They do have two buses though on the inventory lists. Maybe they’re slavers?” asked Richard

  “Slavers? Raiders? You believe this shit?” asked Nick.

  Jim and Artur both shrugged then Artur spoke.

  “There’s more, a lot more. They’ve been using the zombies as their foot soldiers, that’s why they’ve been so successful.”

  Jim interrupted, “Look, they’re using the things to drive people into ambush zones. Remember we heard about that compound near Stroud getting wiped out last month?” Nick nodded.

  “Well, they used the zombies to attack the place then picked off the survivors when they tried to escape. The prisoner says he was one of the people in the compound that was caught,” said Jim.

  “Bullshit!” said Nick. “Where is he?” he asked.

  Richard pointed to the armoured bus near the Land Rover. With an effort Nick pushed himself up and staggered over to it with Richard going with him. The prisoner was tied up in the back of the bus being carefully watched by one of the passengers. Nick moved up closely, examining the man. He wore the typical biker gear, gloves, jacket and trousers plus the over sized leather boots. He didn’t look like a biker though.

  “What’s your name?” asked Nick.

  The man looked terrified, he fidgeted with the ropes but they were tied down firmly. Nick picked one of the food bags and swiped it across the man’s face.

  “I asked you a question!” he shouted.

  “Jenkins! Don’t hurt me!” the man stuttered.

  Why did you attack our convoy? We’ve got enough problems in the Zompoc without you adding to them. Why?” he shouted.

  “I didn’t have a choice. We were told we either joined up with them or we would be made to join the zombies,” he continued.

  “Rubbish, why would they let a zombie get to you?” said Nick.

  The man shrugged, ignoring the question. Nick raised his hand as though to strike again.

  “Okay, okay. Look, they use the zombies to help them attack towns for supplies. Anybody they can’t feed or use for their raids they turn into a zombie and then use them anyway,” he said.

&nb
sp; “What do you mean, turn?” asked Nick.

  “They put…they put you in a cage with zombies and let them attack you. They made us watch it happen. In the end you turn and you’re one of them,” he muttered.

  Nick stepped back, looking at Richard.

  “Do you believe this shit?” he asked.

  Richard shrugged and then pulled out a map from his pocket. He showed it to Nick. It was the route that they sometimes used for their convoy runs to the north of the country. Along the main motorway, a good distance north of Manchester, was a series of villages and towns that were circled in red. They were all in a similar area of no more than fifty square miles.

  “These are all areas we’ve lost contact with over the last year. What this man has told us confirms that this group has raided and destroyed five compounds and villages near Lancaster in the last three months. They’re making their way south, look,” said Richard as he pointed to the map.

  Nick looked carefully. Though they rarely travelled that far north anymore, it was still worryingly close to their own safe areas if these people kept moving south.

  “If this is true, then why are they so far from home?” he asked.

  Before Richard could speak the prisoner answered.

  “Food. Plain and simple. They don’t make anything, they take what they need and move on. From what I’ve worked out they started near Glasgow but were forced out of the city. They’ve been growing in numbers and ransacking towns all the way south on the main roads. They sent a small group of us to set up here to watch the east and west routes for people and supplies, and to see if it’s worth coming down this far south,” he said.

  How long have they been doing this?” Nick asked.

  “About three months now, that’s what the guys told me anyway.”

  “How do you communicate with the rest of them then if you are so far away?” asked Nick.

  “The old army truck has a radio in it, we use it once a day with updates,” said the prisoner.

  Nick climbed back out of the vehicle and faced Richard whilst he thought for a moment. Richard spoke first.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Well, our first job is to try and rescue those people, the second is to get back to the Green Zone and fast,” said Nick.

  Richard nodded in agreement as the two of them walked back to the Land Rover. The rest were still loading weapons and supplies into their two vehicles. Nick unfolded his map onto the bonnet of the Land Rover and made some notes. After a few seconds he leaned back, deep in thought and then looked up to the sky, noting that it was already starting to darken.

  “Shit!” he muttered as he turned to Richard.

  “Get everybody here, I’ve got a plan and we need to move fast,” he said.

  * * *

  Nick steered the large trike as he pulled off the main road. The large number of lights proved their worth as with no streetlights the route would have been impossible to navigate at this time of night. As he turned the bend he could see the fires of a large encampment up ahead, it was exactly as Jenkins had described it. The site was an old service station with ample space for people and vehicles. He turned around and gave a signal to the three men hanging onto the back who in turn flashed red torches at the Land Rover and bus following them.

  The trike continued forwards until met by the first of three guards patrolling the outer perimeter. The men signalled for him to slow down which he did. As he approached they recognised the trike and waved him on through. They were obviously more interested in looking out for the undead than the living. This was probably a good idea on most nights, not this one though.

  “So far so good,” whispered Nick to Richard who was holding on to the frame right behind him.

  Nick maintained his speed and rode straight into the camp, noting that little attention was given to him, probably because they were all too familiar with the bizarre and over the top contraption. The vehicles following slowed down and waited ready at their allotted location.

  Nick whispered over to the three on the back.

  “Remember, we hit the truck first then the tyres of the rest of their vehicles. After that the zombies and the very last job are the prisoners. Got it?” he said.

  The men on the back nodded in acknowledgment. Each wore the garb of the bikers that had been recently killed in the battle on the motorway. Providing they didn’t get too close they should be okay. Nick moved on past the fires and pulled up alongside the rest of the motorcycles. He switched the engine off and was pleased to hear the loud noise of heavy metal music and laughter from the campsite. The more noise the easier it would be for what they had to do.

  The truck was easy to spot. It was the largest vehicle, apart from the two buses. He walked towards it with the other three men following a short distance behind. Nick counted a dozen bikes, the truck, two buses and a dozen heavily modified pickup trucks and cars.

  At the end of the line of vehicles was the first bus, it was being guarded by two men, each armed with rifles. Richard spotted something ahead and gave a signal, the four moved quickly to the side of the nearest truck.

  “Five minutes then meet at the last truck to deal with the guards. Ready?” asked Nick.

  With a nod the group split up for their tasks, the Johnson brothers heading over to the motorcycles and vehicles whilst Richard followed Nick to the buses. With the first two gone, Nick moved to step back into the open when another man stepped out in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. The man looked dazed and confused to see Nick.

  “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 again
st 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.