Jones grabbed Smith, shouting into his ear.
“I think we can get through, come on!”
Being as neither man could see what was happening they shouted to whoever was left and then dragged themselves through the roots and to the other side where the two girls were waiting. Luckily the thickness of the root and dirt had stopped most of the dust and dirt coming through and from there they had a reasonably clear view to the light in the distance.
A hand punched through the roots, quickly followed by the now familiar face of Captain Scott. The two sergeants grabbed his arms and pulled him through. The officer fell to the ground, landing in the filthy water before being able to right himself, gasping for air. The sound of the struggle continued behind them and Smith, desperate to get as many of them free as possible made to climb back through. Jones stopped him and before he could argue another set of arms appeared. This time however, the person trying to get through was one of the undead. Its face dripped blood and it had obviously just been chewing on flesh. Smith’s heart sank as he realised that this must mean that their small group of five were the only ones to make it. They all moved back, keeping away from the roots and the creature trying to climb through when an object appeared out of its forehead. Captain Scott squinted at it, confused by the protrusion until he realised it was a metal spike. With a squelch the point disappeared and the body pulled back though the roots. Smith closed in, pushing his arm through the hole and found it grabbed by several people. He held and pulled as hard as he could. The first one to come through was Harris.
* * *
Steiner had so far managed to clear an exit from the small shelter so they would be able to drive away in the truck. The real problem though, was that the battery on the truck had been damaged at some point and was not providing enough power to start the vehicle. Luckily the parts on the floor from the Kubelwagen included a battery. All that remained was for him to move it to the truck and then get it started, assuming the battery worked. Working quickly he cut the thick cables on the truck, revealing the wire. Lifting the heavy battery he moved it up to the truck and placed it on top of the existing battery. He didn’t have time to physically replace the old battery, he simply tied it down, it should be good enough to get them away from this place. With the stripped cables prepared he wrapped them around the battery terminals, double-checking he had them the right way. There were a few sparks as the cable touched the battery. He allowed himself a moment of relief. A spark meant power. That was a damned good start. Closing the bonnet and clearing off the rest of the canvas sheets the truck was clear and ready to go. He lifted himself up into the cab and placed his sword and shotgun onto the seat beside him. Whispering a quiet prayer he hit the buttons to start the truck. With a shudder the motor started to whine, the battery forcing it to turn. The engine stayed silent. He stopped for a moment and then tried again, the motor turning over slowly until it spluttered, caught and then died gain. Already Steiner could feel the battery was near its end, he had probably another one or two attempts and the battery would be useless. Trying again the engine coughed and then expelled a huge pile of white smoke. Steiner kept his foot depressed slightly on the accelerator, making sure the engine didn’t stall. Checking the side mirrors it all looked clear. He pushed down the clutch, timing the sound of the engine carefully and then double clutched the system, locking in the first gear. With a crunch the truck was ready to go.
Steiner whistled up to the house but it was unnecessary. The two men were already lowering themselves from the roof, ready to drop onto the truck as he left. Revving the engine he pulled out from the cover and onto the gravel yard. Pulling down hard on the wheel he turned to the right, swinging the vehicle out and alongside the house. The two men dropped down, landing somewhere in the bay of the truck. As Steiner moved his foot to hit the accelerator the passenger side window shattered, revealing two of the creatures trying to climb in. Leaning to his right he grabbed the shotgun, swung it around and placed the muzzle on one of the undead’s head. Pulling the trigger he sent a shell’s worth of lead into its skull, literally exploding the monster. As it flew back it knocked the second one down with it. Dropping the shotgun Steiner floored the pedal and with a squealing sound the heavy truck trundled off.
* * *
Sergeant Smith and Captain Scott were the first to leave the tunnel. The exit was a grate in the ceiling that was easily moved and led to a low drainage ditch near a storage shed. The two men helped out the survivors, now much depleted from the battle underground. Of the thirteen that left the church only seven remained. Smith and Scott were now unarmed whilst Trent and Harris still carried their rifles. Jones helped the two girls, both of whom were so exhausted they could now barely move. They had no idea what had happened to Archer and the rest, they could only hope they had found another way out. As the filthy group sheltered in the ditch the sound of the creatures in the tunnel became louder. Trent, rummaging in his pockets kept checking for something, after a couple of seconds he found it and threw it over to Smith. It was the last of the grenades. Without pausing he pulled the pin and rolled it inside the tunnel. Moving back the explosion shook the ground and collapsed the tunnel.
Captain Scott moved out of the ditch to find they were near a road. In the distance he could see the flashes and tracer fire that indicated the distant battle. It was oddly comforting to see the living in battle against each other as opposed to these foul things. Behind him were several old houses and then much further back the village itself. Adrienne was closest to the collapsed tunnel when a hand pushed through the dirt, grabbing her around the neck and pulling her to the mud. Falling back screaming she knocked Madeleine over who landed flat on her back. A second, then a third arm appeared; each was filthy and covered in grime and mud and dragged the screaming Adrienne under the mud, biting and tearing as they went. Another head emerged and it was clear the undead were still there and would not stop. Madeleine tried to reach down to grab her but Jones pulled her away, just in time to avoid even more arms.
More noises came from the direction of the village, the horizon seeming to move like a sea. It could only mean more of them and they were moving in their direction.
Captain Scott moved out to the road, shouting as he left.
“Come on, we need to move!”
Jones grabbed Madeleine and in seconds the six survivors were on the road and running towards the distant flashes of the battle. Behind them the horde shambled slowly towards them.
* * *
Steiner had no idea where he planned to go just as long as it was away from the village. As they drove to the outskirts he spotted scores of the creatures, all wandering around in large groups. As he moved passed them they seemed to stare right at him and then turn to follow, moving at their normal shambling pace. As he looked ahead a large group stood, blocking the road. He jammed his foot down, the truck sliding and then coming to a stop at a slight angle in the middle of the road. The photographer climbed down and lifted himself up into the passenger seat next to Steiner.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Look!” answered Steiner as he pointed his finger ahead.
“Shit!” swore the man. “Can we go back?”
Steiner lifted himself out of the cab window and looked backwards, a large number of the creatures were now on the road and following. He pulled himself back and in slammed his foot down onto the accelerator. With a shake the truck built up speed.
“Hell no!” shouted Steiner. “Hold on!”
The truck continued accelerating, moving towards the centre of the large group ahead. There must have been at least twenty of them and more were converging on the same point in the middle of the road. The truck was now moving at a good speed, the photographer leaned out of the cab and shouted at the other man to hold on. With a wet thump the truck ploughed into the group, sending body parts over the bonnet and onto the street. As soon as they’d smashed through the group the truck had already dropped substantially in speed. More of the cre
atures were in the road ahead and yet more converged from the village itself. Steiner kept his foot firmly on the floor and the tired truck kept up its slow progress through the mass of people.
Further ahead he could see a small group running away from the village. At first he simply dismissed them as more of the undead until it dawned on him, they were running. He turned to the photographer.
“Look, survivors!”
The photographer looked at him with derision.
“So! We can’t stop, keep moving!”
“Fuck you!” shouted Steiner.
“If they’re alive we’re getting them. I’m not leaving anybody else in this place.”
The photographer lunged across the cab, trying to take control of the wheel. As the truck veered on the road something clunked and the truck spun to the side and off into a hedge. The impact threw Steiner against the dashboard, his shoulder smashing hard and the steering wheel slammed into his chest. With the thud the engine stalled and for a moment there was total silence.
* * *
“What was that?” shouted Jones as the group kept up their running pace on the road.
Smith, checking over his shoulder as he ran, was sure he could hear the sound of a vehicle but in this light it was hard to make out, especially with the number of undead behind them. The sound got louder and louder until it was obvious something big was heading their way.
Captain Scott stopped and turned to see a truck swerving across the road.
“Watch out!” he cried as he dived out of the way.
By some miracle the truck steamed past them only to drift to the right and then ploughed into the hedge running along the road. Trent picked himself up off the ground and made to move towards the truck only to spot several of the undead hanging from the back and at least three on the bed of the truck biting and clawing at the body of a lifeless man. Only a hundred yards behind them was the first of the horde and behind them came untold hundreds, all presumably heading for this small band of the living. Trent and Harris moved in with their bayoneted rifles whilst Smith and Scott checked the cab for survivors.
Inside the truck the impact almost knocked Steiner out. He was slumped over the steering wheel and the world around him was spinning. From the corner of his peripheral vision he saw people moving towards the door. Rolling to the side he picked up his shotgun and fire a wild shot through the broken window. Amazingly the shape dodged to the side and then moved back, tearing open the door. His vision started to return but before he could reload the gun he noticed one of them was carrying a rifle. He shook his head and could finally work out that the person in front was a soldier, not just any soldier but what looked like a British soldier. His first instinct was to grab a weapon but the man raised his hands, as though he either wanted to surrender or didn’t want to fight.
Steiner turned back to where the photographer was sat to find the seat empty and the door open. He reached over to shut the door but another soldier, this one looking like an American officer appeared. Behind him stood two of the undead creatures, Steiner shouted and Captain Scott, spotting the sword on the seat grabbed it and duck down to the right. The creature, reaching out with both arms missed the Captain whilst the second moved to climb inside the truck. Captain Scott withdrew the blade in one smooth motion and then with little idea how to use it simply swung the weapon at the closest creature. He expected the slightly curved weapon to hit with a hard impact but instead it cut cleanly though the shoulder, taking the arm off cleanly. Surprised by the power of the weapon he slashed several more times until the creature fell to the ground in a bloody mess. Turning back to the truck the second one was half inside and being kicked by the German sat in the driver’s seat. Lifting the blade high he brought it down hard onto the creature back. This time it embedded itself deep into the thing’s upper back, crushing the spinal column and turning the creature into a limp piece of meat. Placing his boot on its back he yanked out the blade. Sergeant Jones appeared next to him and dragged the carcass off to the ground before plunging his spike bayonet into its skull. Harris jumped back down from the truck to knock another one back to the ground only to be felled by another three that emerged from the side of the road. He tried to fight them off but the weight of number forced him down and in seconds they had taken multiple bites from his arms and throat. A blast from a shotgun came from the back of the truck, one of the survivors obviously finding the now unused weapon. The first shot knocked back the one of the creatures, the second hit Harris square in the chest, ending his misery quickly and painlessly.
Steiner, still shocked by the violence of the situation just sat there as the American jumped in and slammed the door. He spoke to Steiner but the words meant nothing. He didn’t speak much English and with his head pounding from the crash he was having a hard time concentrating. A few gunshots rang out and the truck shook as more people seemed to be climbing on board. The British soldier at the door looked at his uniform and then spoke.
“Ich bin Sergeant Smith, sprechen Sie Englisch?” he asked.
Steiner, thinking for a moment spoke the best English he could manage.
“Steiner,” he pointed to himself.
Sergeant Smith pointed back into the road, “Untoten?”
Steiner nodded and with a superhuman effort he pushed himself back up and tried to restart the engine. The people on the truck, whoever they were, started firing with their weapons as the undead staggered closer. The American sat in the passenger seat picked up the shotgun. Steiner nodded acknowledging the fact that right now they needed each other, and proceeded to load it. The truck shook as the rest of the survivors clambered on board. Smith jumped up onto the bonnet and then lifted himself up to the top of the cab.
With a cough and splutter the engine roared into life. Steiner slammed the gearstick into reverse; the crash box clunking as he roughly engaged the gears and then floored the pedal. The rear of the truck shook as it pulled itself out of the ditch. With a squeal of tyres the truck left a cloud of dust and blood and then moved off down the road and towards the sight of the flashing lights and tracer fire ahead. Back on the bed of the truck Madeleine sat along with Trent, Smith and Jones. Between them they now carried just the one firearm and only a few shells. Madeleine said nothing, the shock of what had happened and the relief of being on the truck and escaping simply numbing her to an almost lethargic state.
Smith was watching her and thought she seemed to be very pale.
Damn, he vaguely remembered someone saying she might have been bitten. Perhaps he’d imagined it and hoped he was wrong, but unfortunately he would have to keep a very close eye on her!
* * *
Just a few miles back sat Chard, still at the window frame as he watched the sun start to rise in the distance. Inside the church the undead still numbered in the dozens and outside many more staggered about though now they seemed confused and dazed. Holding the sword of the Archangel across his lap he leaned against the wall and allowed himself to rest for a moment. The sound of distant gunfire and the occasional groaning of the undead reminding him that sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford. As his heavy eyelids closed down he felt something tugging at his leg. As he opened his eyes he panicked, realising he was falling to the floor. The pain in his leg as he hit the stone floor was agonising, he must have easily broken his ankle in the fall. The sword clattered to the ground nearby.
Looking upwards the light of the new day flooded into the building, lighting the face of the man stood over him. Like the rest of the undead this one had the pale face and blood dripping mouth but unlike the rest, this one and the two stood next to it were dressed in the black uniforms of the SS.
The closest one snarled, moving quicker than the other creatures he had met so far and lunged towards him. Rolling to his side his right hand grasped the sword, and with one powerful swing he sliced through its throat and sent its head catapulting through the air. Holding onto the stone wall he lifted himself up. The pain was excruciating but he could just ab
out stand straight. He lifted the sword up high and staggered forwards, swinging the weapon and shouting as he moved towards the two soldiers.
“Come on, you square headed bastards!”
________________________________
(c) 2010 Michael G. Thomas
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be produced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First published in Great Britain by Swordworks Books
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Cover design by Swordworks Books
FB2 document info
Document ID: ef55629e-fff7-4bba-93b2-0e2b67514c38
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 27.6.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.36, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Michael G. Thomas
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
Night of the Nazi Zombies Page 18
