Zombie Dawn Exodus

by Michael G. Thomas

  “What other options do we have?” she asked.

  “They could go out and fight as they have the last few days, and hope to whittle their numbers down enough to make the defence possible,” said Wells.

  “Jack, maybe leaving is the best thing to do, but what about morale. After all this work, we just leave? That’s it? So what if we can’t beat the horde, wouldn’t everyone feel a whole lot better that we had at least given it our best shot?” asked Madison.

  Jack sighed. He was annoyed about having to give civilian emotions a consideration when in a military situation, but the harsh reality that almost everyone he commanded was a civilian struck the message home to him.

  “Yeah, I guess they might,” said Jack.

  “That’s the spirit!” Wells said.

  “Madison, get all the food, water, fuel and ammunition onto your vehicles as you can, everything my people aren’t using. Get Greg’s group to help, they have nothing left to do. We’ll head out and fight them, give them hell. But make sure those vehicles are ready to roll east. I promise I’ll fight them, but I give no promise that we can win,” said Jack.

  “Thank you, Jack,” said Wells.

  “Alright people, mount up!” shouted Jack.

  The vehicles rolled out to cheers from those left in the town, a small but enthusiastic crowd.

  “Right everyone, I want all the supplies we can get, food, water, ammunition, clothing and bedding too. We have three buses and three trucks. Load all of the supplies onto the pickups, bedding into the buses. Those vehicles may become our homes for some time, so let’s be sure they’re as comfortable as they can be!” said Madison.

  Two hours later the convoy was as prepared as it could be, with enough supplies as they could take and still have space for people. The twenty people that were left in Babylon took to the walls with their weapons, both in preparation to fight, and to rest from their rushed labour. Wells sat down on top of an overturned bus alongside his daughter. He took out the chromed .44 Smith and Wesson from his thigh holster and popped open the chamber, to be certain it was fully loaded. He clicked the cylinder back into place and rested the gun in his lap, still in hand.

  * * *

  An hour later the trucks were reaching the walls of Babylon. They’d killed hundreds, perhaps thousands, but the bodies were not in sight, the massive horde covering their dead.

  “You know we can’t win here,” said Madison.

  “Yes, I know. But it was a dream that I had to at least hold onto for as long as I could,” said Wells.

  “Where will we go now?” asked Madison.

  “Wherever God leads us,” he replied.

  “Then to some place warm and safe I hope,” whispered Madison.

  The Pastor smiled, before standing up and looking out across the few worried defenders that stood on the walls around them, watching the endless horde of evil.

  “This is it, we did our best, we had a good life here, and we will create one as good or better somewhere else. Greg, I want you on the easterly gate to allow the trucks in. Once they’re through, we’ll have just five minutes to gather what last supplies we have and then leave. I want everyone else on the walls with me!” shouted Wells.

  The guns below them rang out for the final time. The horde was just a hundred yards from the improvised walls now.

  “Fire when ready!” shouted Wells.

  Madison knelt down and shouldered her AK, she had for months wanted the opportunity to use it, though this now left a sour taste in her mouth. She flicked the selector switch onto semi-automatic, and opened fire. Shots rang out across the walls in a haphazard fashion, barely making any difference to the horde’s advance. Jack’s trucks arrived in the square just as the zombies hit the walls.

  “Everyone out! Grab everything useful you can, then onto the buses!” shouted Jack.

  Madison felt the vehicle beneath her buckle, as the sheer pressure of the horde forcing against it was already putting a huge strain on the defences they’d taken days to build.

  “These walls aren’t going to hold much longer!” shouted Madison.

  “I know, there’s nothing more we can do here, get to the buses!” shouted Wells.

  Every survivor left immediately, leaping down from their positions and heading for the vehicles, none wanting to risk being left alone to the mercy of the beasts.

  “Jack, that wall is gonna go any minute, we have to leave now!”

  Before Jack could answer Wells a section of the wall broke in two, where a bus and trailer were connected, the horde forced a gap and the zombies were pouring through.

  “Greg, get the gate open! Everyone else, to the vehicles!” shouted Jack.

  Madison, Wells and Jack lifted their weapons and fired everything they had into the oncoming creatures, before jumping into the truck bed of Jack’s Dodge.

  “Let’s go!” shouted Jack.

  The vehicle’s wheels spun as it lurched forward, storming towards the gate. They could already see the re-enforced doors being slammed shut on the buses as they raced past them, the other trucks following suit. Madison looked back to see the vehicles each in turn passing out through the gate after them.

  “That’s it, that’s all of them, we made it!” cried Madison.

  “Yeah, we did, for today,” said Wells.

  “Where to, boss?” asked Jack.

  “I was the natural leader with a community that used its church as a centre. But we have again embarked on a new life, one where you are that leader. Will you step up to the task?” said Wells.

  “I’ll do my best,” said Jack.

  “That’s all God ever asks of anyone,” said Wells.

  “Oorah!” shouted Jack.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HONOLULU, HAWAII

  Decker examined his maps as the Mercedes Unimog made its way along the debris filled road. Since the outbreak many of these parts of the city had been abandoned and without maintenance and clearing operations many of the roads were blocked and filled with vegetation, waste and other junk that impeded their progress. The radio crackled.

  “Sir, we’re in position. We can see the warehouse burning, we can’t see any people on the ground,” came the voice.

  “Any sign of vehicles? They must have got there somehow,” asked Decker.

  “Negative, we can hear gunfire though. Do you want us to move in?”

  “Stay where you are. We need eyes on the warehouse, keep in contact.”

  “Wait, I’ve got movement one block away. There’s a column of vehicles in the street, but they aren’t moving. Hey, I can..” the radio whistled and then cut out.

  “Fuck!” shouted Decker as he tried to regain contact. It was no good though, either their gear was down or they had been eliminated.

  He turned to his unit, each of the men was sitting on the uncomfortable bench seating. The Unimog was a cross between an agricultural off-road vehicle and a military truck. It was tall, heavy and unstoppable but lacked all the niceties of a civilian vehicle.

  “We’ve got a problem,” said Decker.

  “No shit,” answered Terry with a grin.

  Decker lay the map out in front of him so the others could see.

  “What we know is that all contact has been lost with the 3A facility. The guard unit is not responding. We have no data or power connections and our recon element providing overwatch reports the facility is burning and a column of vehicles is nearby.”

  “Sounds like a major operation. They must have come in by vehicle as no aircraft were detected right?” asked Tony.

  “Exactly. We have a chance to catch them if we’re quick. The main route from the facility passes under this rail bridge here before hitting the intersection and four different routes. If we hurry we could establish an ambush there before they can escape and finish whatever it is they’re doing.”

  “Yeah, I like it. How long since we lost contact?” asked Terry.

  “Twelve minutes but there’s another problem. They may have ta
ken out our recon unit, if that’s the case then they may have more people out there than we thought. If we’re fast we have a good chance of cutting them off,” answered Decker, “any questions?”

  He looked around the group. Tony raised his hand.

  “Yeah, what are they doing? Why are they hitting the compound?” he asked.

  “Good point. Right now we don’t know. My guess is either they want to cause damage, but more likely they want to take samples.”

  “Samples?” asked Terry.

  “Yeah, this is an offsite medical facility for the company. Our orders are to contain or destroy. Under no circumstances can anything get out of the area,” he added.

  “Understood?” he asked.

  The rest of the unit nodded in agreement.

  “Okay then, make sure your gear is ready. We’ll be there in four minutes.”

  He climbed forward so he could speak to the driver in the crew section whilst the rest of the group double-checked their weapons for the impending confrontation.

  * * *

  Jackson, Greg and Jonathan were still tied up securely in the back of the truck when they spotted the first zombie. Jackson thought it was one of the soldiers at first before he realised it had stumbled out of the warehouse. He nudged Greg.

  “Looks like they missed one.”

  “Hey, didn’t we see that guy inside before they kicked us out?”

  Jackson nodded and then twisted his head to the right, trying to point out something else.

  “Can you see that? Look!”

  Greg strained to see where he was looking. On the side of the warehouse was a storage bunker about the size of a small truck and from it a cloud of vapour was leaking out. Near the ground were the bodies of four of the soldiers who had been detailed to protect the site. The vapour must have been heavier than air as it clung to the ground like a mist and washed over the bodies.

  “Do you think that stuff is dangerous?” asked Greg.

  “Look,” said Jonathan.

  On the ground the mist had moved on past the third man and was slowly drifting into the centre of the facility. Something stirred close to the building, it was the first soldier. It looked like his foot was shaking, but then his entire body convulsed and he shuddered and stood up.

  Greg stumbled backwards into the bed of the truck.

  “Fuck me!” he shouted involuntarily.

  The two men that were guarding the truck noticed him speaking and turned and one moved towards him.

  “Shut the fuck up!” he shouted.

  “Hey!” called the other guard as he tapped on his comrade’s shoulder.

  Turning around they faced the recently risen soldier who was staggering towards them. The first man lifted his M4 carbine and fired three rounds into the soldier’s chest. The man spun and collapsed down, blood spurting from the chest wound. The guard turned and grinned to his comrade only to find another of the soldiers had his arm around his throat and was dragging him to the floor. The guard shouted for help and tumbled backwards, away from the fallen guard and his attacker.

  More gunshots rang out as the bodies of the fallen men on both sides started to get up and stagger towards the living. Jackson wasted no time and moved to the side of the pick-up bed to try and cut the ropes on the exposed metalwork. It was slow work but with both guards and zombies running amok he had no choice. Ford and his group of guards emerged from the warehouse with the last of the patients. As they moved to the vehicles yet more of the recently risen zombies followed to attack them. Controlled and accurate fire from the men kept them out of danger, but the longer they stayed the greater the number of zombies.

  “Sir!” shouted one of the men as the patient on the trolley started to convulse violently.

  Ford stepped back just in time to see the person throw off his blanket and start shouting.

  “What the hell is going on? Where am I?” he screamed.

  One of the guards stepped forward to try and restrain him yet the man simply smashed his face with his fist. The force of the blow shocked Ford as he watched his guard fall to the ground with blood streaming from his face. The patient started to shake as though he was experiencing muscle spasms.

  “What...have..you done to me?” he screamed before falling to the ground.

  “Leave him!” shouted Ford as he ran on to the vehicles.

  The front of the warehouse vanished in a bright blast that demolished its outer wall and anybody within twenty feet. Dust, debris and smoke blasted in all directions, including directly at the pickup truck that was smashed onto its side by the blast. Jackson was thrown violently against the body work, his head smashing into the bed before he passed out.

  * * *

  Decker and his unit rounded the corner of the street and approached the railway bridge with caution. In the distance they could all see the red glow of the warehouse. To make matters worse they could also hear the sound of a battle. A Toyota Corolla sped from a side street and narrowly avoided them before ploughing directly into one of the abandoned homes.

  “What the hell’s going on?” said Jason.

  Along the street were small groups of people making their way away from the suburbs towards the seafront. It was hard to tell in the night light if they were running, walking or fleeing. Decker leaned over the side of the slow moving Unimog.

  “What’s going on?” he shouted.

  The first person ignored him but the second, a woman in her thirties, called up to him.

  “The creatures, they’re here. They’re all over the docks!” she shouted as she moved past.

  “Creatures,” shouted Tony, “she means the undead? They’re here?”

  A pickup truck came rushing down the road in their direction. As it drove past them they spotted a man firing a rifle back towards the docks.

  “This doesn’t look good does it!” observed Jason.

  Decker banged on the crew cab to get the attention of the driver.

  “Get us there fast!” he shouted before pulling out his radio.

  “Decker here, we’ve got a serious problem. The dock area is compromised, we have a breach. I repeat, we have a breach,” he said.

  “Are you sure, Decker? If the facility is breached we will have to evacuate the entire island. I need you to confirm. We have a helicopter on its way to collect you. Get me intel and fast!” came back the reply from Dr Murphy back at the research station.

  The Unimog trundled ever closer to the compound. They were now past the suburbs and approaching the entrance to the site. Up ahead was a damaged fence but there were no soldiers on duty. Off to the right were five trucks, all abandoned and one was burning. They kept moving towards the warehouse and the location of the brightest flames. The Unimog smashed through the fence and into the heart of the compound where an overturned pickup truck blocked their route. With a squeal the Unimog pulled to a halt. Decker was first out, quickly followed by his security unit.

  Near the pickup were two men, one was trying to pull a man out from underneath the vehicle, the other was swinging a piece of metal at two attackers. Decker was experienced enough to know his attackers weren’t soldiers, even though they were equipped as such. They moved with the stiffness and aggression he’d seen countless times before in his encounters with the undead.

  “Secure the area, stay in sight of the Unimog and don’t split up!” shouted Decker.

  The small group fanned out so they could check the area, each man left no more than twenty feet between them. Decker ran over to the upturned pickup truck. As he moved he noted the number of undead shambling around, there must be at least two dozen, maybe more. Drawing his .45 he put three rounds into the closest, clearing a path to the vehicle. Up ahead he noticed the one man smash the piece of metal into the face of one of the zombies whilst another knocked him down. Decker ran forwards and kicked the creature, knocking it flat onto its back. He helped the man up.

  “I’m Decker, need a hand?” he asked.

  Around the truck more of the
zombies congregated, each of them heading for the closest source of food. The man reached out and shook his hand.

  “Jackson. Thanks. We need to get out of here!” he shouted.

  “No shit!” said Decker. “What are you doing here?”

  “Some guys were robbing the place, we got caught up in the middle,” he answered.

  Decker was unconvinced. He signalled over to Tony to give him a hand.

  “Help them get this guy out, we need to get out of here and fast,” he said.

  Gunfire erupted from his unit as a group of zombies emerged from the direction of the road and the abandoned vehicles. His unit was well trained and half a dozen of them firing accurate bursts easily cut the group down.

  Tony helped the two men to pull the wounded man from the truck.

  “Anymore survivors?” asked Decker.

  “Just Ford, I don’t know where he went though,” answered Jackson.

  Decker dragged them in the direction of the Unimog.

  “Come on, we need to go, now!” he shouted.

  The two men in the cab of the Unimog jumped out, helping them to lift the injured man onto the back of the vehicle. The rest of the unit was already returning to the rear of the truck. Terry moved up to Decker.

  “There are stretchers, trolleys and a few bodies. Looks like something pretty bad happened here,” he said.

  “Yeah, come on,” replied Decker as he climbed up onto the back of the truck.

  With a loud rev the Unimog reversed into the low wall and returned the route they’d arrived by. As they left the compound Decker watched the burning skyline. The zombies were on the move and in his experience they always found the living.

  “Decker here, the compound is breached, they’re in the open. I repeat they are in the open.”

  After a short pause an unfamiliar voice came back.

  “Understood. Dr Murphy is on the evac chopper to the coast. We have reports across the city of sightings of the undead. We think the infection is spreading another way.”