Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 3): March (8 page)

evening

I told everybody my plan over dinner.  The Colonel nodded her approval, Redbeard swatting me on one shoulder.  Firecracker was doubtful of success, but considering the hundreds of corpses wandering around in the streets that wanted nothing more than to eat us, she was willing to go along with anything.  Sister's only response was to shrug and say “What the hell, might as well!”  Apocalypse Girl only smiled slightly, telling me that she trusted my decision.

I went up to the roof after nightfall and stood, staring up at the clouds high above.  They had temporarily ceased their movement, and simply hung there ominously.  Were it not for the torch I had brought with me I would have had no light to see my way back down with, as apart from the clouds that seemed almost to glow with their own inner darkness, it was impossible to see your hand in front of your face after sundown.

March 17
Year 1 A.Z.

morning

We breakfasted, then it was time to begin.  Thinking that the rags themselves would not be quite enough, The Colonel took out her knife and sliced the palm of her hand open in order to bleed profusely into the pile of filth.  As Apocalypse Girl bandaged her wound, Firecracker tossed the entire blood-soaked mess off the roof and into the horde of Dead waiting below.  As I had suspected, the smell of prey coupled with fresh blood drove them berserk.  We rushed for the far edge of the roof, where a fallen billboard mostly bridged the gap between buildings.

As our immediate goal was escape, we didn't bother checking any of the residences in this block of flats, instead simply rushing down the blood-spattered stairs in an effort to make it to the way out and hopefully not be too surrounded by Dead when we made our exit.

We rushed out into the street to see the Dead moving onwards, in the direction that their rotting companions were creating a ruckus over some rags.  Those nearest us noticed our presence, but were swiftly and silently dispatched by my blade, then we moved onwards to the east.

noon

No sooner had we sat down on a pair of old, abandoned cars to eat lunch we noticed that we were being followed.  Apparently my trick worked only so well, and the Dead had cottoned onto the idea pretty quickly.  It looked as if the entire horde that had surrounded our temporary home had come along, too.  Apocalypse Girl swore loudly, exclaiming that she was fucking sick of being followed by fucking corpses everywhere she went.  Have to be honest, she is not alone.

Having plenty of time before they got anywhere near us, Redbeard and I pushed the lighter car alongside the other one, in order to funnel the Dead when they finally arrived at this point, just to slow them down a little.  Hopefully.  Then the six of us ran, as the horde of shambling Dead came a little too close for comfort.

A hundred metres or so up the road, I turned around to see that the Dead had indeed gotten themselves tangled up amongst the vehicles.  Quite a few had already made it past the obstacle, but it seemed a worthwhile tactic provided we can continue keeping ahead of the Dead.  After all, they don't have any need for sleep.

evening

We had tried the barricade of vehicles trick several more times on the road, as and when the opportunity arose, which worked well for detaining the horde of Dead behind us, but more kept coming out from sidestreets and alleys in dribs and drabs, never more than about five or six at a time, easily dealt with at first, but they wore you down.  However, as sunset, what little sun there was, approached we needed to find somewhere secure for the night, or we were completely fucked.

Firecracker peeled off down an alleyway, insisting that we should follow her.  We did so, an exhausted Redbeard and I bringing up the rear, as Dead were already coming at us from in front and behind along the road.  Sister, being the fleetest of foot, had already outdistanced Firecracker by the time we rounded the corner to be blinded by the spotlights that turned on us.

We were told to stay still, no matter what, the order loud through a megaphone.  Then the gunfire opened up.  Miraculously, none of us were harmed at all.  The demand came for our leader to step forward.  We glanced around at one another, having never formally decided on a leader.  Eventually I stepped forward to be greeted by an incredibly tall blonde man with a very bushy beard.  The dude looked like nothing so much as a fucking Viking.  I shook his hand, thanking him for the assistance, then asked him where we might find The Mech-Techs.  Viking's laughter boomed through the night.

March 18
Year 1 A.Z.

pre-dawn

Viking turned out to be the leader of The Mech-Techs, as it happened.  He loaded us up into his vehicles, three for each of the two he had come scouting with.  I travelled with Apocalypse Girl and Sister in Viking's vehicle.  It had once been a Landrover, and now sported all sorts of shiny pointy metal accessories that looked just right for dealing with driving through masses of Dead.  When we got back to their main base, a huge warehouse on the eastern end of the city, they took us into a large, well furnished room to rest for what remained of the night.

In the morning, Viking showed me around, boldly boasting of the deeds of his grand clan, The Mech-Techs.  They had survived, even thrived, since the rise of the Dead.  The Norse-god-made-flesh bragged how they now numbered one hundred and fifty, occupied this warehouse, the ones on either side of it, and several other buildings nearby.  He showed us the workshops, where many of his more mechanically minded minions made modifications on motorcars.

He asked me flat out what I planned to do with “my” women.  I looked him in the eye saying that they are not my women, they are my friends.  Booming with laughter, he clapped me on the shoulder, telling me when he had spare breath that he was just testing me.  Too many of The Followers had tried to infiltrate his organisation lately, apparently.  He went on to say that the two groups weren't exactly at war, but Viking clearly didn't like them much and his feelings were returned by The Disciple.

I asked him about the thief that they had nailed to the billboard, after tearing him limb from limb.  Viking laughed again, saying that he didn't like thieves much, so they had dismembered a Dead one and nailed it up there.  It made little difference, the effect had been the same.  However, he told me in a deadly, soft tone, he would do the same or worse to anybody that actually did try to steal from him and his group.  I believe he would, too.

noon

These Mech-Techs are certainly good hosts, they had fed us, and several of them sat with our group, laughing and joking with them.  Though friendly, they still had the feel of guards, and when I asked Viking of this, he nodded, smiling.  Then he asked what I would do in his position.  I admitted that he had a point, we were a complete unknown to him and his, and thanked him for being as generous as he was.

Viking took me aside, into a former office of the warehouse that he had converted into his personal living quarters.  We sat down opposite one another over a small table, and he reached under the table pulling out two beers, handing one to me.  I drained the cold frosty brew almost instantly, and he gave me another.  This one, however, I went a little easier on.

“What do you want from me?”  Viking asked, after a moment of silence.  Thinking that the best tactic would be to be as direct with him as he was with me, I simply told him that we needed a vehicle to get to Canberra in.  “What's in Canberra?”  He asked.  I shrugged, saying that The Colonel wanted to see if there was any kind of government or military infrastructure left.  He sat, thinking quietly for a moment, then shouted a mighty “OY!”  One of him minions immediately opened the door.  Viking asked the young lad to ask The Colonel to join us, please.

The Colonel strolled in barely a minute later, and Viking handed her a beer, also.  She chugged it down gratefully and he asked her how much experience she had with military vehicles.  Shrugging, she said a reasonable amount.  She couldn't fly anything, she told him, but any ground vehicle she knew fairly well.  Viking smiled.

“You can have absolutely any vehicle we have here.”  Viking told us both, handing the two of us another beer each.  I was already beginning to feel a little tipsy but accepted anyway, as it seemed a deal-sealing beer.  “You, and your Colonel here, are going to get me a tank!”  Beer sprayed from The Colonel's mouth.

evening

Viking invited our entire group to dine with him, and over our meal we discussed the details surrounding his request for a tank.  Driving one was a little difficult to get used to, The Colonel told us, but she knew how to well enough, and would happily teach people once we acquired it for them.  Just how exactly we were meant to accomplish that particular task was a little beyond her at present.

A Mech-Tech scout that was joining us also told us that there was a deserted army barracks nearby, only a couple of handfuls of Dead roaming around it and they had a tank just sitting in a garage, waiting to be fueled up, have a fresh battery installed, and then it would be ready to go.  The only reason they had delayed in replacing the battery and filling its fuel tank was that they had nobody around with the knowledge or experience necessary to drive the bloody thing.

The Colonel asked about this garage, where exactly was it, and how easy was it to get inside?  The scout told her that the main door was locked up tight, but the tank would drive through that easy enough, the only other door was locked.  He held up a key.  The smile The Colonel gave was nearly as wide as that on the face of Viking.

We were told that the barracks itself was only a couple of kilometres away, quickly and easily travelled in a car, and Viking insisted on going first thing in the morning.  When the question came as to who was going with The Colonel, Viking surprised us all by being the first to volunteer.  Redbeard offered his services a moment before I spoke up.  Apocalypse Girl then stated if I was going, then so was she.  Viking said that was one too many, and he wanted to see my blade in action.  He looked Apocalypse Girl in the eye for a moment, then turned to Redbeard.  “Sorry, but the girl's coming with us.  I've seen that look before, and if I come back without him,” pointing at me, “I'm better off one of the Dead!”

March 19
Year 1 A.Z.

morning

The trip to the barracks, north and east of Viking's main base of operations, was relatively uneventful.  We took the Spiky Landrover of Dead-Slaughtering out there, the driver taking off with it as soon as we arrived at the front gate.  Grey snow piled up against buildings, one of which The Colonel walked towards before Viking told her that everything that could possibly have been looted from this barracks had already been taken.  She turned back without a word, and our host directed us to the garage within which lay our goal.

Viking swore as we approached.  The main door lay open, the shadows within had an ominous feel to them.  We drew our sidearms and waded in.  The garage itself had been looted of almost everything useful, much of it by The Mech-Techs themselves, but another group had clearly been through and, frustrated by the lack of anything good that they could take with them, tried to destroy everything they could.  A few Dead wandered aimlessly around inside that Viking took out with the sledgehammer he had strapped to his back.

It was big, that tank, in fact I would go so far as to say fucking enormous.  Viking instantly set to work locating and installing the necessary battery, The Colonel busying herself by re-familiarising herself with the controls.  She hadn't actually driven this model of tank before, but she said she could work it out well enough, quickly enough.  While they were busying themselves with their tasks, Apocalypse Girl and I stood watch against Dead and Living alike.

“We're in luck!”  Came the call from The Colonel, inside the tank.  “She's fully loaded with both shells and machine gun ammo, all we need to do it fill her up and we're good to go!”  followed by Viking's booming laughter.

Through the gloom of near noon Apocalypse Girl spotted motion in the distance, and called it out.  “Looks like Dead coming for us!”  Viking asked from within the garage how many.  “Ok, at first guess, I would say shitloads,”  He swore loudly.  He called out that the battery was in and working, but they needed more time to fuel up.  I shouted back at him that we'd take care of it, wishing I felt half as confident as my voice sounded.

noon

The Dead slowly shambled towards us, and Apocalypse Girl's estimate of shitloads was proven quite accurate.  Every round fired from either of our pistols felled a Dead one, many of those dead Dead tripping up those that tried to stumble over them.  We emptied our weapons, reloaded, emptied them again, a never ending cycle of destruction.  Well it would have been, until we ran out of bullets.  We holstered our guns, and drew our melee weapons.

My sword had cleared its sheath when the rumble began behind us.  I grabbed hold of Apocalypse Girl's arm, pulling her back inside the garage, cutting down the leading pair of Dead along the way.  Viking waited atop the tank, hand outstretched, and I thrust Apocalypse Girl towards him, spinning around just in time to slice another Dead head apart before leaping up myself.  Viking, astride the main gun, swung his mighty hammer at any Dead that drew near enough to be pulverised, as Apocalypse Girl and I joined The Colonel inside the tank.

The Colonel ordered me to man the machine gun turret, which I did with pleasure, mowing down any Dead that dared shamble into my field of fire.  The Colonel ordered Viking inside, which he refused, as somebody had to keep the Dead off the outside of the tank.  She spoke urgently with Apocalypse Girl, for a few seconds, then a moment later the tank began to move forwards.  A couple of seconds after that, the wall of Dead in front of us simply exploded.  The ringing in my ears, coupled with Apocalypse Girl's expression of pure joy told me what had gone down, and The Colonel began to move us onwards again.  After a minute of travel, Viking joined us inside, blood and gore dripping from the head of his hammer, his hair and beard covered in Dead glorp, eyes wild with delight.