Zombie Dawn Exodus

by Michael G. Thomas

  Beside Dave sat Tommy, his closest friend over the last few months. Tommy was an aggressive man who would always jump in at the deep end, but was also a worthy ally. At twenty four years old when the outbreak begun, he’d worked in a factory assembling cars.

  The old hunk of iron that carried them was a series Land Rover, older than either of the men in it. The 109-inch wheelbase truck that they lovingly referred to as Kate after their favourite movie star, was retro fitted with armour plating and chicken wire.

  “That was a shit haul,” said Tommy.

  “True, but it’ll help,” said Dave.

  “It’s not enough though, is it?” said Tommy.

  He was referring to their most recent haul. They’d been on a raid to find supplies, them and the other vehicle behind them. The second vehicle, a Daihatsu Fourtrak, also had two occupants. The large quantities of red diesel held on the surrounding farms had given them a great head start on keeping their vehicles running. Two vehicles with two men each was the group’s standard operating procedure, never risking too many people outside their compound, but always having a backup vehicle.

  They arrived at large gates built from a mix of wood and metal parts bolted and welded together, with multiple layers of chicken wire spanning them entirely. The gates were eight feet high, the same as the walls they were attached to. This was the entrance to the place that Dave and many other survivors now called their home.

  In reality, the compound was nothing more than a wealthy landowner’s property that had been re-enforced with the help of survivors. The owner still lived in the house and commanded the ragtag group of survivors which had made it this far. The land spanned a hundred acres or more, but they controlled and commanded just ten.

  The gates were pulled back by the man and woman who were on guard at that time and let the vehicles pass through. Dave gave a nod to Ben and Vicky who were on watch. They drove along the farm track to the house. It was a large old building, with six bedrooms, all now converted for them to live in. The lower windows of the house were still heavily barricaded from by initial defences from nearly a year before.

  This compound housed just nineteen of the lucky few who had made it this far. Nobody truly knew how many humans were left in the world. Occasionally they met friendly survivors who would either stay a while and move on or occasionally make the place their home. More often than not the survivors they met were hostile.

  Dave could never understand the number of people who turned on each other at such a time of crisis and need. Why, when so few humans inhabited the earth, would they choose to fight each other? Working together their odds of survival in both resources and combat were hugely improved, though not everyone understood that.

  The vehicles pulled up in front of the old house. Roger, the man in charge and owner, was already walking out to greet them. The house was called Everglade, a name all now used to describe their home.

  “How’d it go?” asked Roger.

  “Not great,” said Tommy.

  “Didn’t you find anything?” asked Roger.

  “Yeah, sure. We found some stuff, he’s just being a miserable bastard,” said Dave.

  “Fuck you!” said Tommy.

  “Well come on then, let’s see what you’ve got,” said Roger.

  Dave opened up the back of the Land Rover. They had foraged for supplies at a petrol station on the edge of a small town. Their leader would never let them roam into areas that used to be inhabited by large numbers of people. He deemed it far too risky. Not all the party agreed with this, but the command had been followed until this point. They had recovered various junk foods, crisps, chocolate bars, soft drinks and some alcohol.

  “No canned food?” asked Roger.

  “Unfortunately not,” said Dave.

  “Ah well, at least we can keep our sugar levels high!” said Roger.

  The quirky landowner was ever the optimist. He was in his early sixties and had never really had to work much, having been born into money. Sadly, this luxury meant that he owned no livestock, nor knew anything of farming, other than how to keep the place looking tidy.

  “We need to go where the good stuff is,” said Tommy.

  “We’ve been through this before, laddie. We go where it is relatively safe and nothing more,” said Roger.

  “But there are massive shops full of stuff waiting for us, we just have to go and get it,” said Tommy.

  “We’re just a handful of survivors in a world that wants to eat us, we cannot afford just one life lost,” said Roger.

  “Then we do it quickly,” said Tommy.

  “I’m sorry, but I will not hear anymore of this, you must accept that we’re doing what is best for all of us,” said Roger.

  “Come on, Tommy. We’ve been through this before,” said Dave.

  Tommy huffed in frustration, knowing this was a battle he couldn’t win. He knew that he could bring back the best food any of them had seen since this began, but his superiors held him back. The hierarchy in this compound was a tricky thing. In part, your authority was dictated by how long you’d been there, Dave being one of the first handful and who commanded respect. Dave had never wanted power, but he’d settled well into being one of Roger’s key men.

  Roger had allocated ranks or positions to everyone in the group. His closest allies were known as Captains, which were Dave and one other, Luke. Roger considered combat training a priority, with everyone practicing regularly, though more recently he had begun to emphasise the need for self sufficiency. He’d almost lost two survivors in a raid that strayed too far into a town just a month before. He knew all too well that the food they could find in shops would only last a couple of years more, and that the real solution came in making or growing your own.

  Dave noticed Kailey walking out of the house towards them, an ever growing smile stretching across her face. The very knowledge that he could see and talk to her each and every day was willpower enough to keep going. A reason to work at living was never something any of the survivors were used to, the protection of society was provided for them. Now, each and every one of them had to be determined to live.

  “Good trip?” asked Kailey.

  “As good as can be expected,” said Dave.

  “You ready to eat?” asked Kailey.

  “Fucking right,” said Tommy.

  The group assembled inside the house for a meal. Roger had insisted from the moment the compound was secure, that they always sit down for a meal each evening. He said it was important to hold onto what little they had left of society and normal living. He was right, every man and woman in the group looked forward to the communal gatherings. Roger organised it so that five people were always on watch at any one time, meaning fourteen, at current population, could enjoy the meal together.

  Food wasn’t what it used to be. Fresh food had gone off just days after the Zompoc started. Meals now consisted largely of canned food. But junk food played a large part of their daily intake of calories, as it at least stayed edible for years. They could procure more supplies of decent canned food, but it would mean much more risky operations into population centres.

  The one thing that was never in short supply was alcohol, as it never really went off. Roger saw alcohol as an important element of morale within the compound, but he always restricted every individual’s intake per day. Having your diet controlled was not always popular, but it insured everyone got what they needed and had nothing to excess. There was no place for obesity and drunkenness in this world anymore.

  After the meal, Dave and Tommy headed up to bed, their missions to procure supplies counted as their watch time, so they rarely carried out guard duty. Guarding anything was boring, but most of the survivors were more than happy to stay within the safe confines of their home than risk their necks in the wilderness.

  Being so far from any population centre the compound only ever saw the occasional zombie. Everglade had its own zombie pest control squad, five men who acted as a clean up squad. With
the sparse population locally the squad could outnumber the creatures in combat, allowing them to fight in relative safety.

  The two men lay down on the mattresses that were laid out across the floor, a luxury in the world they now lived.

  “You know what I wouldn’t give for a can of corned beef, or tuna?” said Tommy.

  “I’m with you there,” said Dave.

  “Then why don’t we go get some?” asked Tommy.

  “You know why,” said Dave.

  “Fuck that, we could get in and out safely,” said Tommy.

  “You don’t know that, we cannot risk the lives of a single person,” said Dave.

  “But what about that supermarket, it’s what, fifty miles from here, waiting to be plucked,” said Tommy.

  “Yes and it’s attached to a town that had, and likely still has, a population of tens of thousands,” said Dave.

  “We can’t go on eating nothing but shit,” said Tommy.

  “And we won’t, you know Roger is already well into setting up the farming here, next year we’ll have some good food of our own,” said Dave.

  “But that’s a year, assuming he even knows what the fuck he’s doing,” said Tommy.”

  “I’ve heard enough, we aren’t going anywhere near that town!” shouted Dave.

  Tommy fell silent as both men finally began to relax, neither happy with each other’s standpoint. Five men shared the room that they now used. Despite the house having so many bedrooms, many had to be used for storing supplies such as food, weapons, protective gear and other essential equipment.

  Dave had been for the first time since the outbreak beginning to feel that things were starting to go his way. He’d managed to settle into a survivable location with decent people and some resemblance of a future. He forgot all about Tommy’s grumblings and turned his mind simply to all the good things. Dave fell asleep, a welcome rest after the day’s driving and work.

  Dave was harshly awoken by Graham, the driver from one of the other vehicles the group used, it was 7.30am. He was barely awake but the adrenaline was quickly bringing him to an alert state. The zombie infested world had taught all of them that laziness and slack living was a death-trap.

  “Dave, Dave, wake up!” shouted Graham.

  Graham was nearly sixty years old. He’d arrived at the compound with his Land Rover Discovery a month after the outbreak, everyone was surprised he’d survived alone all that time. Graham was a widower used to living alone, and a highly practical man, if not a true fighter.

  “What is it?” asked Dave.

  “Tommy and three others have taken Kate and the Fourtrak driven off,” said Graham.

  “Where did they go?” asked Dave.

  “No idea, Kyle and Amy on the gates assumed they were leaving for a genuine mission like always,” said Graham.

  “Shit!” shouted Dave.

  Dave was still mostly dressed in his clothes from the night before as it was rarely warm enough to go to bed without them. He leapt to his feet, slipped his boots on and ran downstairs. The ground floor of the house was empty when breakfast would usually be happening, something no man or woman would miss. He could already hear a ruckus outside. He ran out of the front door to see Roger and several others arguing.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” asked Dave.

  “Tommy, Richard, Brian and Chris have taken your truck, and these idiots let them do it,” said Roger.

  “How were we supposed to know they weren’t allowed out?” asked Amy.

  “Alright, alright. That doesn’t matter, how long ago did this happen?” asked Dave.

  “About forty minutes ago,” said Jodie.

  “Shit, he could be anywhere by now!” said Dave.

  “Really? Surely you know what his intentions were?” asked Roger.

  Dave thought about it. It was indeed true that he had an idea, the conversation from the night before flooded back into his head. The possibility that Tommy had been stupid enough to go ahead with the idea was depressing, and to risk so many of the survivors foolhardy and selfish.

  “There’s a supermarket about fifty miles from here, he’s been raving about wanting to raid it for a while,” said Dave.

  “Exactly,” said Roger.

  “Shit,” said Luke.

  Roger’s other right hand man had arrived on the scene just seconds after Dave. Luke was a competent and reliable fellow, but also a gun hoe one.

  “Let’s get after them and drag their arses back!” shouted Luke.

  “No, we have no idea what they’ve got themselves into, we have already lost four men and two vehicles today, let’s not risk any others!” said Roger.

  “What if they need our help?” asked Jodie.

  “Then they’re probably in too much trouble for us to assist them, either they come back here okay or not at all, it’s out of our hands now,” said Roger.

  “This is bollocks,” said Dave.

  “Yes it is, Dave. But there’s nothing more we can do about it without knowing more. None of us know how many survivors there are in this world, but all of us are very aware that it’s a very small number. The very survival of the human race is in danger, and we cannot afford to take stupid risks,” said Roger.

  He was right, none of them wanted to condemn these friends to their deaths but Roger had, as always, proven why he was the right man to control the group. Roger didn’t have much in the way of skills, but he was always cool headed no matter the situation, his calculated thinking and nerve had got them all this far.

  “Right, those not on watch get some breakfast, we will pray for the four men but beyond that, life goes on,” said Roger.

  The group broke apart and went about their morning routine. The loss of the men and vehicles was weighing heavily on all of their minds. The number of survivors was ever decreasing. The only way for that to turn around would be for people to stop being foolish, and of course for some to start having children. There was no doubt that Roger’s leadership and facilities had provided a safe life for all, but they had to keep improving.

  After finishing his breakfast, Dave went on watch with the guard at the gate, out of desperation rather than duty. The guard tower at the entrance was an old tractor with a guard station built on the roof. The rusty Massey Ferguson tractor had belonged to Roger’s father, but was long beyond operation now. Dave sat in the tower with Jodie and Kyle for an hour without speaking a word to either of them. There was a deathly silence across the whole camp now, all too depressed by the loss of their friends, a reminder of how brutal the outside world still was.

  Finally, after the long wait the group could hear the sound of an engine in the distance, the sound of a Land Rover engine. The vehicle was clearly being driven hard. Eventually it came into view but the second vehicle wasn’t with it. Jodie jumped to use the church bell that had been setup there to alert the camp of anything serious.

  “No!” shouted Dave.

  Jodie looked quickly at Dave in shock. She couldn’t understand his reasoning. The sight of the vehicle had been a joyous sight, all sensibilities melted away.

  “That bell alerts everything in the valley, not just our camp, that is for emergencies only,” said Dave.

  He jumped down from the tower.

  “Roger, Kate is back!” shouted Dave.

  Roger didn’t look particularly enthusiastic. The fact that one vehicle had returned rather than two was a bad sign. Despite the fact that the vehicle had returned, he knew all too well that this could lead to a number of unfortunate and dangerous situations. Dave wrenched the gates open and his beloved Land Rover pulled into the camp. Brian was driving but there was no sign of any passengers.

  He stopped the vehicle and leapt out. Before his feet could barely touch the ground, Luke had pounced on him. The hardy captain threw him against the side of the vehicle in anger.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” shouted Luke.

  “Luke! Let him speak!” shouted Dave.

  Luke r
eleased his hold on the man. Roger stood back and simply waited for the bad news, praying that further survivors would not be pulled into this disaster.

  “Where are the others?” asked Dave.

  “We went to the supermarket in the town and it was all fine and quiet. But once the lads got inside the place was just flooded with zombies, there was nothing I could do!” shouted Brian.

  “So you just left them there?” asked Dave.

  “I was outside in the truck, there were dozens of them, more all the time, what was I supposed to do?” asked Brian.

  “You were supposed to do as you were told in the first place!” shouted Luke.

  “Fuck you! We were trying to make things better for all of us!” shouted Brian.

  “And now you can understand the very reason we do things my way,” said Roger.

  “So where are the guys now?” asked Dave.

  “They said on the radio they were held up in the security room and it was fairly safe for now, but the shop is flooded with creatures,” said Brian.

  “Then there’s nothing we can do for them, they condemned themselves,” said Roger.

  “Fuck that, we can’t afford to lose anyone, we’re too few already!” shouted Dave.

  “And we’ll be even fewer if you attempt some ridiculous rescue attempt!” shouted Roger.

  “I don’t need your permission,” said Dave.

  “Please, Dave. You should know as well as I how futile this is,” said Roger.

  “Surely our concern for our fellow man, our hope and comradeship is what makes us human? We don’t have much else left,” said Dave.

  Roger thought for a minute about the situation. He knew that it was very dangerous to risk any resources on a rescue attempt, but he also knew that the morale of his people was on a knife edge now.

  “Then what did you have in mind?” asked Roger.

  “Let me take Kate and Brian. If we don’t return, don’t come after us, but if we do, be ready with the whiskey,” said Dave.