Zombie Dawn Exodus

by Michael G. Thomas

  “What do you mean?” asked Decker.

  Jackson leaned forwards.

  “Yeah, we saw something leaking out of the warehouse. It turned the dead into zombies when it made contact with them,” he said.

  “You serious?” asked Tony.

  “Bet your ass I’m serious, I saw three of them come back to life in front of me,” he explained.

  “We think the infection might be airborne,” he said into the radio.

  “One moment,” came the reply. There was no response for almost twenty seconds.

  “Decker, Murphy here. I’m on the way to the harbour. Can you confirm the infection is airborne?” he asked.

  “It looks that way, I didn’t see any bites or injuries common with the usual spread of the infection on the zombies,” he answered.

  “Shit. Somebody must have damaged the containment tanks. The good news is the chemicals have a half life of approximately thirty days. The bad news is that means this site needs to be put into immediate quarantine,” said Dr Murphy.

  “Quarantine?” shouted an angry Decker.

  “You know the drill. Anybody that has been in contact with the infection will have to wait it out. In six months the airborne virus will be impotent.”

  The Unimog shook as it took a turn too fast and clipped a road sign. Its weight and mass slammed it past the debris and it ploughed on towards the harbour.

  “We’re leaving the island in thirty minutes. We have already sent an SOS to the flotilla. The RV Moreau is under three hundred miles away and on her way to assist. Get to our vessel, the Colossus by then or be left behind. Understood?” said Dr Murphy.

  “Affirmative,” answered Decker.

  He moved up so that he could see over the top of the cab. In was incredible, in such a short amount of time the peaceful island was already in chaos. Fires were burning off to the left and people were in the streets, heading for the evacuation zones at the harbour. Decker was almost thrown into the cab as the Unimog screeched to a halt. He leaned over, shouting at the driver.

  “What’s wrong?” he called.

  The driver pointed out into the street ahead. Decker climbed up higher to get a better view. Two trucks were overturned in the street and around them were at least two dozen bodies.

  Jackson climbed up, watching ahead.

  “Yeah, that looks like the trucks Ford came in. He’s the one that let them out,” he said.

  Decker looked at him with a little suspicion.

  “Are you sure that’s his vehicles?”

  “Pretty sure,” he answered.

  A volley of shots came from the back of the Unimog as the men spotted zombies approaching from behind.

  “Decker! Come on!” shouted Tony.

  Decker moved back to check, the zombies were growing in substantial numbers and were hell bent on attacking those of them that were still left.

  “Where are they coming from?” asked a confused Decker.

  “Well, if it’s airborne, is it affecting anybody that’s dead? What about the living?” said Tony.

  Decker shrugged.

  A hand appeared on the side of the Unimog, a sound of a desperate man cried out.

  “Help me, they’re everywhere,” he yelled before being pulled back down.

  Jason leaned over to try and help only to be grabbed by the waiting hands of a dozen zombies. He tried to hold on but they were too many and in seconds he was on the ground being bitten and torn apart.

  “Fuck!” shouted Decker as he fired round after round into the group, making sure his first round put the mortally wounded Jason out of his misery.

  The rest of the group fired in all directions as yet more and more of the undead appeared, all staggering towards the immobile Unimog. Decker banged on the cab.

  “Push past them!” he screamed whilst firing straight ahead at the approaching zombies.

  With a roar the Unimog lurched forwards and towards the two wrecked trucks that blocked the road. With a crash they smashed into the wrecks and pushed past surprisingly easily. With the engine revving hard they were back onto their journey.

  Decker turned back to the rest of his group.

  “Make sure you’re ready. We are gonna hit the ground running, understood?”

  They all nodded and Decker climbed back to the rear of the cab, watching the harbour area coming closer and closer to them. Tony got up and joined him, passing several magazines.

  “Thanks,” said Decker.

  Up ahead, crowds of people were filling the streets and heading for the shore. The emergency klaxons fitted days after the outbreak were all blaring, warning people to stay indoors, not that anybody was paying them any attention. The Unimog pushed on down the street, the jetties now clear in the distance.

  “Decker!” shouted Tony as he waved his arms off to the right.

  Decker turned, tracking the movement till he spotted the problem. Two pickup trucks were approaching three blocks ahead and to the right. They were obviously heading in the same direction and would cut into their path shortly. The rattle of weapons fire blasted ahead.

  “The bastards are shooting the civvies!” shouted Jackson.

  Decker watched, his face showing the anger he felt as the two trucks mowed down dozens of helpless people trying to get along the road. He opened the rear hatch and popped his head into the cab.

  “We need to get in front of those bastards!” he said pointing at the junction ahead. “If they get to the boat first we’re screwed.”

  The driver nodded and changed gear, moving the lumbering truck at a slightly higher speed. The junction was now only a block away and yet more people were filling the road. The driver held down the air horn, making the people jump out of the way.

  “Look!” shouted Greg as he waved off to their left. He picked up one of the rifles from the back of the truck and aimed it off into the distance.

  “I see them, a group of about thirty zombies are coming from the industrial units. You see them?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” said Decker, “drop them!”

  The men opened fire on any zombies they could see. In a short time the creatures seemed to be spreading across the island faster than at any time he’d ever seen. The Unimog sped past the junction, Decker could see the approaching trucks were a block away and moving fast. Out in front of them the sound of ship horns blared as vessels moved away from the coast.

  “Shit!” shouted Tony, are there gonna be any left for us?”

  The Doctor promised the Colossus would be waiting for another...” he checked his watch, “seven minutes.”

  The trucks were now on the same stretch of road and accelerating towards them.

  “What the fuck are they doing?” said Decker.

  “No way!” shouted Jackson. “I know those trucks, it’s Ford.”

  Jonathan still dazed from the incident back at the warehouse got up to look back. He muttered to Jackson.

  “If that’s Ford he’ll fuck us for good,” he said before slumping back down.

  “He’s right,” said Jackson, “he doesn’t care who suffers as long as he gets what he wants.”

  Bright lights flashed from the approaching trucks and Jonathan flew back against the cab, his torso was riddled with bullet holes.

  “Fuck!” shouted Jackson.

  The rest of the men ducked down low and returned fire. The one truck stayed behind them whilst the second sped to their right and moved alongside the Unimog. Luckily for Decker the lumbering Mercedes was substantially taller and from their vantage point they could bring fire down on the hapless criminals firing from the bed of the truck.

  They fired long bursts from their carbines into the men, killing two and blasting a third off the back and into the street before the truck was able to speed past. Behind them the other truck rushed at them and slammed into the back of the Unimog. With a sickening crunch it jerked forward but its mass kept it moving on.

  They might have made it, apart from the fact that the overtaking pickup
truck clipped an abandoned car just as it moved ahead. The impact spun its rear outwards and directly into the path of the Unimog. This time mass wasn’t enough and the Unimog slid first to the right and then as the driver overcompensated it tipped over onto its side. Because of the speed they were travelling the overturned truck slid a good hundred yards before coming to a stop. Right behind it the other pickup swerved to avoid the crash only to pile straight into one of the homes that ran along the road and disappeared inside in a cloud of metal, dust and debris.

  * * *

  Jackson was the first to drag himself out of the wreckage. There were bodies all around the crash site. Some of them he recognised, others he didn’t. As he checked the back of the Unimog for survivors a burst of gunfire sent him diving for the ground. From the side of the road a man approached, flanked by an armed guard. The man wore a suit and upon approaching a wounded man simply pointed the weapon at the man’s head and fired.

  “Fuck,” muttered Jackson as he crawled through the wreckage.

  The sound of metal being dropped signalled the driver was trying to climb out of the cab of the Unimog. He was half out when another burst of fire caught him in the chest, he slumped back inside. Jackson tried to slide back to the wreckage but he was too slow, the man approached and stood in front of him.

  “Jackson, my, oh my, you got this far?” he laughed.

  You bastard!” shouted Jackson. “Why?”

  “I have my own experiments,” he answered, whilst scanning the distant jetties to make sure the boat was still there. He then looked at his watch.

  “Looks like you’re going to miss the last boat, too bad,” he said as he raised his pistol.

  A loud crack blasted next to Jackson’s face and Ford staggered backwards. Jackson turned to see Decker kneeling and holding out his automatic. Ford’s guard returned fire managing to hit Decker in the leg. He fell back in pain, dropping the pistol. Jackson stood up and smashed into the guard, knocking both men to the ground. He may have caught him by surprise, but the guard was stronger and more experienced and quickly spun him around and forced his arm into a painful lock.

  “Hey!” shouted Decker who was now pointing his recovered pistol at the man.

  The guard turned only to be hit in the face by a single round from the gun.

  “That’s two you owe me!” grinned Decker before dropping to his knee.

  “Where’s Ford?” shouted Jackson.

  Decker shrugged, whilst Jackson staggered around the crash site looking for signs of survivors. It was incredible, but in the crash and ensuing massacre by Ford, it seemed only the two men and Ford were left.

  A young family ran past carrying an array of bags on their backs. Jackson tried to stop one only to be pushed back

  “Get off me, they’re here!” screamed the woman.

  Jackson turned to see the growing horde making its way down the road and towards the waterfront.

  “Shit, come on man, we need to go!” he shouted.

  He moved over to Decker and helped him up before spotting movement inside the back of the wrecked Unimog. The two men moved over slowly, peering inside. A hand came out quickly followed by the familiar wail of the undead. It was a man, somehow he had turned without being bitten.

  Jackson pushed the man back whilst Decker hesitated before putting two rounds into the walking corpse. The two then staggered off down the street and towards the last remaining vessel.

  “It must be airborne then, that’s a problem, a pretty serious one!” said Decker.

  “No shit,” muttered Jackson as they reached the end of the road and the entrance to the jetties.

  Jackson and Decker carried on down the promenade towards the jetties that reached out to the various vessels tied up. In the distance was the shape of the Colossus, a converted pleasure boat that was used to move supplies around the islands. The engine was running from the amount of smoke belching from its engines, and there were dozens of people already onboard.

  Jackson jumped over the security fence and turned back to help the injured Decker. Off to their right a group of the undead smashed out of an outbuilding and made their way towards the men.

  “Come on!” screamed Jackson, as he emptied the last of his bullets from his MP7 at the group.

  The bullets thudded away at the group but it seemed to do little to reduce the numbers. Decker was at the top of the fence and Jackson, now running short on patience simply grabbed his arm and yanked him over and down to the ground. He landed with a thud. Behind the two men the horde had increased to hundreds of zombies and they were all heading in the same direction as them, the boat.

  Jackson pulled Decker up and put his arm around his neck to help take the weight. The two then staggered off down the jetty towards the boat.

  A scream came from up ahead as someone fell from the boat. Several gunshots rang out before Decker spotted the group of five zombies fighting their way off the jetty onto the boat. More gunshots rang out as people tried to jump onboard. The engines revved loudly and more smoke poured from the oily engines.

  The two men carried on as quickly as they could, the boat was now only about a hundred yards away. Jackson, moving too quickly, stumbled and fell hard onto the ground. Decker toppled and collapsed next to him. The closest zombies were only twenty feet away and had already blocked their route back from the jetty.

  Decker pulled out his automatic pistol and slammed in another clip. With expert marksmanship he emptied the clip, one aimed round after another whilst Jackson stood up and waved at the vessel to wait. With a roar a plume of water sprayed from the rear of the boat as the propellers kicked up water. The boat pushed ahead slowly from the jetty.

  “What the fuck!” shouted Decker as he kneeled on the ground, still shooting.

  Jackson ran over to him, helping him up to his feet and drawing his own pistol and aiming down the jetty at the approaching horde. Behind them the sound of the Colossus was already quietening at it steamed out to its rendezvous with the Moreau.

  “This place is going to hell!” screamed Jackson as he opened fire.

  THE END