Zombie Dawn Exodus

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Yeah, I see it. Get ready,” he ordered.

  Sound came through the radio’s speakers from one of the vehicles.

  “Any update on the route? Is it a Z-Zone?” crackled the voice.

  The Land Rover slowed down to almost a walking pace as the two vehicles moved cautiously towards the smoke plume. As they reached the two hundred metre distance they could make out a crashed coach and at least three other large vehicles. They were all badly damaged and all looked heavily modified, much like their own vehicles. More importantly, they were completely blocking the road ahead for the convoy.

  “We have multiple vehicles blocking the route. Looks like another convoy came this way,” said Nick.

  With a squeal the Land Rover came to a stop. Nick leaned forward slightly and pulled out a double-barrelled hammer-lock shotgun. The weapon had been shortened at some point, but even this modification failed to make the vintage weapon look even close to a modern firearm. Nick pulled the lever and broke the weapon’s barrel to expose the chambers. Placing his hand in his combat vest he pulled out two red cartridges and slipped them into the gun. With a click the weapon was ready and he took the portable radio off its mount and slipped it onto his belt. He then slid back the steel shutter and opened the door, the smoke from the fires quickly entering his nostrils.

  Artur heard the door opening and swung his Bren gun around to cover the abandoned vehicles. The weapon swung quickly around on its heavy, metal mounting.

  Nick stepped out, holding the shotgun up to his shoulder and looked around at the scene of carnage. He could count five vehicles. Each one was heavily modified with extra cargo straps, racks, reinforced windows and mounts for weapons. The armoured bus stopped close to the Land Rover, the two vehicles forming a ‘v’ shape in the road. The air operated doors swung open to reveal the dark interior of the bus. Four men stepped out, each heavily armed with firearms, crossbows and close-quarters weapons. They moved forwards, meeting up with Nick.

  Standing out at the front, a noise caught his attention from the embankment on the side of the road. The first thought that entered his mind was that this could be an ambush. He dropped to one knee and aimed the shotgun in the direction of the sound. A few more sounds came from the same direction, but before he could move one of the vehicles in the middle of the road started to shake. He gave a hand signal and without a word the men around him fanned out. The two on the left moved to the embankment whilst the other two approached the crashed vehicles.

  From the top of the Land Rover, Artur had a perfect view of the scene. He could see the two groups examining the area whilst Nick watched. He heard another sound coming from inside the bus and he swung the Bren around just in time to spot three scrawny looking people stumble out of the damaged rear door. At first glance it looked like the people were starving survivors, but Artur knew better. A closer look revealed the torn clothing and blood drooling faces that were the distinctive marks of the undead. Even after a year these creatures were still moving and their bodies were not decaying as they had first suspected they would. Of course there was a good chance that these were newly made zombies, if so then they had to be very careful. Artur had found out the hard way what happened when people you knew were made into zombies.

  Without hesitating he aimed carefully and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

  “Shit,” muttered Artur, as he pulled out the magazine and checked for the jam. He looked up, spotting the creatures shambling out into the road and directly towards Nick.

  “Incoming!” shouted Artur pointing to the group moving into the road.

  Nick heard Artur and quickly turned, swinging around to his right until he was facing the bus. Three of the creatures were heading towards him, each of them was badly injured, either from previous fighting or possibly from the crash on the motorway. Without hesitation he pulled the first trigger of the shotgun and emptied a custom shell into the group. These shells were all handmade as was all the ammunition for the convoy guards. They were designed to cause maximum trauma to flesh whilst having almost no ability to penetrate armour or very thick clothing. Whilst this reduced their ability against living targets they were perfect for shooting the undead.

  The closest of the zombies took the first blast directly in the chest. The specially design lead shot tore through the creature’s chest and burst out of its back. The metal shot ripped the decayed organs apart and severed the spinal column, collapsing the creature to a lifeless lump of flesh. A few of the stray pieces of shot struck the other two but caused no harm. The man to his right fired several shots with his revolver, two of them hitting one of the zombies in the leg, it dropped down but continued to drag itself forward.

  As Nick pulled the second trigger on the shotgun the two remaining zombies flew backwards into the bus, inch sized holes appearing in their torsos and multiple holes appeared in the vehicle behind them. The heavy thud of the Bren followed almost immediately. Each of the large calibre bullets tore chunks out of the creatures and both were splattered against the metal work.

  Nick turned back and gave a thumbs up signal to Artur. He then pulled out the radio and lifted it to his mouth.

  “Hammer One, there’s Z activity in the area,” said Nick.

  As before there was a short delay whilst the radio crackled. The rest of the convoy was only a kilometre behind them but they were finding with no line of sight the signal dropped off very fast.

  “Shit. Are you okay? Any casualties?” came the crackling reply.

  Nick looked around, making sure nothing else was close to him.

  “Negative, there was only a handful, we’re still scouting the area,” he said.

  “Be careful, clear the road if feasible, if not we’ll take the backup route,” said the man on the radio.

  “Shit,” whispered Nick to himself. He was not happy at the prospect of having to take a detour. This meant using a less substantial road that could easily be blocked or damaged in some way.

  Artur shouted something but Nick couldn’t hear due to the next message on the radio.

  “Roger, keep us appraised of the situation, we’re sending a scout unit back to check on the last exit in case we need to find a new route.

  “Understood,” answered Nick as he placed the radio onto his belt.

  He turned back to Artur.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “I can see more zombies behind the bus,” said Artur in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Nick pulled out another two shells and slipped them into the now empty chambers. As he broke open the barrel a waft of smoke drifted out. He was always wary of using the gun. It made noise and noise usually attracted attention, something that was never a good thing.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “Not many, about two dozen, I think,” answered Artur.

  The two men to his right were waiting, ready for his signal. He looked over to his left, the other two men were halfway up the embankment and watching down for signs of trouble. With another hand signal he directed them to move forwards and past the vehicles. They each crept forward, both trying to get past the wrecked vehicles quickly but also careful of what could be inside them. Richard, the man with the revolver, was first past the bus, quickly followed by his comrade Matt carrying a katana. The weapon belonged to Nick, and unlike most of the weapons picked up by other survivors, this was an actual reproduction of the real thing. Experience had already demonstrated the usefulness of this weapon.

  Nick was now at the rear of a fifteen-seat minibus. As he moved past he looked inside, checking around the seats for any sign of survivors. The strange thing was that there were no bodies or supplies anywhere near the vehicle, even the weapons were missing and that could mean only one of two things. Either the survivors stripped the vehicles and left the area or they were attacked and the convoy had been stripped. Whichever it was, there were no bodies so it looked like they must have left on foot.

  He continued past the mini-bus and out into the clear area behi
nd the vehicles. The two men were positioned next to him now. Up to the left the other two moved forwards, covering the motorway from the flank. One of these men carried a British made Lee Enfield No4 rifle, a weapon built and used originally in World War II. It used the same ammunition as the Bren and was perfect as a long-range rifle when on these kinds of tasks.

  A short distance ahead was the horde, a large group of the shambling dead. Artur had underestimated, there were about forty of them and they were all heading in their direction. At this range it would take only a few minutes for them to reach Nick and his team. Richard leaned over to Nick.

  “Is it me or is this all a bit weird?” he asked.

  “Yeah, there’s something not quite right about all this,” added Matt.

  Nick looked around, trying to work out what didn’t fit. It didn’t take long for him to spot the chains further ahead and tied to a tree at the side of the road.

  “Look!” called Nick as he pointed ahead.

  “I don’t get it,” said Richard.

  “Or me, why would you have chains at the side of a main route like this? The only reason is to hold something back,” said Nick.

  Nick rechecked the area, looking for signs or clues that might help explain what was going on. He turned and his attention was caught by some papers on the floor of one of the recently abandoned cars. He moved forwards and pulled out the grubby stack of pages. The first sheet contained a map with several areas circled including The Green Zone, as well as the cities of Bournemouth and Reading. The second sheet was even more intriguing, it showed an inventory of people and weapons at a base in the south.

  “Interesting,” said Nick.

  Richard, still watching the closing horde inched back to Nick to see what he’d found.

  “Look, it seems these people were either heading to this place or leaving it.

  “So what happened to them?” asked Richard.

  Nick stuffed the papers into his pocket and rechecked the approaching zombies, they were not far away now, then it hit him.

  “I know what they were doing. Look, the chains are to hold the zombies in one area. They were kept here and chained up, ready for something big,” he said.

  “Chained?” asked Richard.

  “Oh shit!” shouted Nick as he pulled out the radio from his belt.

  “Hammer One, are you receiving?” he shouted.

  Richard was starting to look a little nervous. The zombies were now only a short distance away and Nick’s tone didn’t inspire him with any confidence. Added to this was the first crack of a rifle, it was Jim the man with the Enfield as he started to pick off the zombies.

  “Hammer One, this is an ambush. The Z-Zone is a decoy. Please respond,” he said.

  There was more static, punctuated by the sound of the Enfield.

  “Ambush, are you sure? It all looks…” the sound from the radio cut off with a harsh screech.

  Nick waved his hand in the air.

  “Everybody to the trucks now, we need to get back to the convoy. Come on!” he shouted.

  Matt and Richard moved back, still watching the wrecked vehicles for any sign of trouble. Nick followed them, continually checking behind with the shotgun at the ready. A grinding sound indicated one of the zombies was ripping a door out of the way. Behind it another three appeared, all heading for the group.

  “There must be other groups chained up around here, we’re surrounded, come on!” he cried.

  Jim and his assistant were already at the bottom of the embankment and jogging along the side of the road. Every few steps Jim stopped and fired a carefully aimed shot, each time felling a zombie.

  Nick went past the wrecked cars to find another two zombies lurch into view. With a double press of the dual triggers he hit them with a blast from his shotgun. The combined power of the two barrels sent the zombies flying backwards and to the ground. He didn’t stop running but kept moving to the Land Rover.

  The rest of their team was now past the obstructions and moving as fast as they could back to the vehicles. Right on their tails were scores of zombies, many of them appearing from the insides of some of the crashed vehicles and others from down the embankments.

  Artur opened fire with the Bren, putting down heavy fire on the zombies and cutting dozens of them down. Nick and Richard reached the front of the Land Rover first, quickly followed by the rest.

  “We’ve been screwed. This blockage was deliberate, they’re hitting the convoy. We need to get back and fast!” shouted Nick, as he continued on to the driver’s door.

  He lifted himself up and hit the ignition, the engine instantly kicking to life. The others from the bus were now inside, all apart from Jim who was just a few feet from the door. He turned and fired another two shots from his Enfield before climbing inside. One of the passengers in the bus started firing their own roof mounted Bren gun, clearing a path to escape.

  In the Land Rover Nick was revving the engine when Artur lowered himself down, shouted at Nick over the sounds of the engine and gunfire.

  “I heard you on the radio, you think they’ve been hit?” he asked.

  “Yeah!” shouted Nick.

  Nick checked around them, noting the zombies approaching in all directions. A large group was moving from the embankment and would reach the bus before it could escape. Slamming the gearstick into reverse he drove the Land Rover backwards towards the threat. The back of the vehicle was normally equipped with a spare tyre, though in these dangerous times it was now on the roof and out of harm’s way. Instead, this vehicle was fitted with a simple iron spike that stuck out a foot behind the rear door. Whilst keeping his foot on the pedal Nick smashed the truck hard into the path of the group of undead. The first was skewered onto the spike and at least three were smashed against the door. The vehicle shook from the impact but a few zombies would not stop it, the four wheel drive simply drove over the bodies and smashed into the next group.

  Nick slammed on the brake and came to a quick stop. Changing into first gear he forced down his foot and pushed down the accelerator. He could see that Jim had safely climbed aboard the bus and that they were already manoeuvring to move back into the middle of the road so they could head back along the motorway. The Land Rover was away first and Artur, now back on the top resumed firing at the horde. As they left the scene of the ambush he swung the gun around to face the direction they were travelling in.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, banging his fist on the roof.

  Nick couldn’t see the problem as his view was blocked by several crashed cars. As he swerved past he saw a huge number of zombies were climbing down the embankment and making their way into the road. Nick slammed his foot down and stopped. He pulled out the radio, shouting into it whilst Artur started firing on the scores of creatures piling their way down. At this rate the road would be full and blocking their way out in less than twenty seconds.

  “Hammer Two get a shift on, we’ve got more problems. The road is about to get hit and we need to get out of here,” said Nick.

  “We’re on the way!” came the response.

  Hammer Three was the designated weapon platform for the convoy. It carried the heaviest weapons and was the vehicle most likely to be able to fight their way out of dangerous situations. As the fire continued Nick reached behind the seat and pulled out another vintage weapon. It was a World War II Sten gun, one of the mass produced sub-machineguns used by the British. He rested it on the doorframe and added his fire to Artur’s. Between them they cut down a swathe of the creatures. It was perfect timing because just a second later the bus came steaming past and straight though the channel they had created. Gunshots and shotgun blasts came from the bus as it sailed past.

  Revving the engine Nick started to build up speed, attempting to catch up with the bus as fast as possible. The thumping from the Bren continued as Artur cleared any zombies that tried to get in their way. Two managed to make it into the road but the heavy iron snow plough smashed their fragile bodies and the Land Rover e
merged unscathed. Putting more power down Nick moved alongside the bus and then took up the lead position.

  With the zombies now well out of sight the firing stopped though their high speed continued. Nick pulled out the handset for the radio, trying desperately to reach the rest of the convoy.

  “Anyone, please respond, this is Hammer Three!” he shouted, there was no response.

  Pushing his foot down further the heavily laden Land Rover built up more speed and started to pull well ahead of the bus. The scene of the blocked road was now well out of view and they were only seconds from the rest of the convoy. Nick banged on the roof, Artur looked down from the hatch.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Get ready, we’ll be there in twenty seconds,” suggested Nick.

  Artur lowered himself down and grabbed two boxes of Bren magazines and lifted them up to his firing position. Opening the tins revealed another half a dozen magazines, each one holding thirty carefully made bullets.

  The two vehicles rounded a wide bend on the motorway to the sight of smoke.

  “Shit!” shouted Nick.

  He kept the speed up but pulled his shotgun close, making sure he was ready in case of trouble. They moved closer until they could get an idea as to what was going on. Through the large side mirrors he could see the armoured bus not far behind him. As the view of the vehicles up ahead became clearer, Nick grabbed the radio to update them on what he could see.

  “We’ve got smoke, I think somebody hit the rest of the convoy,” said Nick solemnly.

  “You’re kidding, right? The entire convoy?” came back on the radio.

  Nick started to ease back on the power, but made sure he was still moving in case he needed to change direction in a hurry.

  “Yeah. I can see five of them, all in a column, it’s like they never moved. I think the sixth tried to get away, it is a bit farther back and stuck on the embankment,” said Nick.

  The last vehicle was smoking badly, it must have crashed or been attacked in some way.