Zombie Dawn Apocalypse (2 page)

They were now past the first burnt houses and picking their way through shopping trolleys, ransacked cases and the occasional wrecked car. This was the dangerous bit, as anybody could be lurking behind debris of that size. Almost holding their breath in anticipation, they moved past the houses and out into the main street. Nick knew the route well and worked out in his head how far they needed to travel to get a view of the trucks.

“Once we get past the building over there we should be able to see the trucks,” he said to Carter.

They continued through the street, avoiding the largest debris and over the rest where it was unavoidable. As they rounded the corner, they reached the building Nick had pointed out. It was an old local supermarket, though it was now a ruinous mess.
 
There was a small car parking area that was empty next to it and Nick moved there and stopped. He jumped off the quad and Carter followed, moving to the front, he was about to cut the engine when Nick lifted his hand.

“No, don’t cut the engine. We don’t want to be messing with that if we hit trouble,” he said.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, feeling stupid for even thinking about it.

The two men moved a short distance away from the quad so they could get a clear look out into the distance and towards the trucks. The view was partially obstructed by trees and a wrecked house, but they could just about make out two of the trucks and the people were much more visible.

“There, I can see them,” said Nick as he pulled out his binoculars.

Looking carefully he had a good view of the first truck. It was a delivery lorry for one of the supermarkets. One of the wheels was missing and the back section was black and burnt. As he moved to the right a dark shape appeared, he refocused before realising it was one of the people. Lifting upwards he spotted another one moving near the door of the truck as they tried to open it. He looked carefully. Their clothes were ripped and damaged but looked recent. All the zombies they’d seen in the last year were either naked or in the bare remnants of rags. The closest person turned and finally gave him the view he really didn’t want to see.

“Fuck!” swore Nick as he lowered his binoculars.

“Zombies?” asked Carter, though not really appearing surprised.

Nick looked back into the binoculars, studying them more carefully.

“Yeah, they look recent, as in really recent. They must have been trying to get here when they were caught...Wait, holy shit!” he cried.

“What is it?”

Nick handed the binoculars over to him whilst he stood there silent. Carter lifted them and examined the scene in detail. He had to force himself not to take a step back when he spotted the people in view. One of them was holding onto the truck whilst swinging a weapon of some kind, it looked like a baseball bat. Next to this person were two more, both in tattered clothing stumbling away, presumably having been hit by the weapon.

“Is that a survivor?” asked Carter. There was no reply, he turned to find Nick already sitting on the quad.

“Get on, we need to get over there!” he shouted.

With just a few steps Carter was on the back and the quad raced past the building and out onto the road towards the trucks. As they bounced over the debris Carter pulled one of the shotguns from the mount on the side of the quad. It was a standard double barrelled weapon, but its barrels had been cut down to make it easier to use from the quad. He pulled the lever and snapped the barrels down to reveal the empty chambers. From his pocket he pulled out two of the custom shells and slid them in. He snapped the barrels shut and the weapon was ready to go.

They rounded another corner to reveal the trucks about two hundred yards ahead.
 
From their position they could see a dozen people, of which two or three looked alive and were busy fighting the undead. Nick gunned the engine and they raced in as fast as possible. As they approached two of the zombies knocked one of the people to the ground and they both went down to try and bite their victim. Nick ploughed the quad directly into the two zombies. The first was knocked aside and the second was thrown in front of the vehicle. Without hesitating, Nick leapt off the quad and pulled out his bible basher. With a mighty slash he brought it down hard onto the pinned zombie’s head, easily splitting it open. A wail from behind indicated the second one was trying to lift itself up. He ran over to the creature and delivered a horizontal cut that connected with the neck and removed the head cleanly. In just two cuts he had destroyed the first two monsters.

Carter jumped off the back of the quad and advanced to the second truck where two more people were fighting with improvised weapons. To his left a woman swung a machete whilst next to her a man swung an axe, narrowly missing a zombie and ending up embedding it in the door of the truck. Carter moved to the side and put two shots into the attackers. The power of the blast was substantial and the modified shot blasted the two creatures apart. He turned to the two to see their surprised and horrified expressions.

“Carter, I’m Carter,” he said, as he moved forward to check for more survivors.

The three survivors simply stood, obviously exhausted and unable to speak. Nick moved over, looking at the bodies and the three people.

“Is anybody hurt?” he asked, “Anybody bitten?”

They shook their heads though Nick wasn’t convinced, that’s what they always said. The woman tried to speak but her muttering was unintelligible.

“What?” asked Nick, straining to hear her.

A wail announced the arrival of another four zombies as they climbed over the burnt out trucks. Nick jumped in front swinging his blade whilst Carter quickly reloaded his shotgun. Before he could shoot Nick had already taken the arm off the first and embedded the spiked back edge into the second.
 

“Out of the way!” shouted Carter.

Nick rolled to the side as he blasted the remaining two zombies with both barrels. The surviving one-armed zombie staggered forward, only to be met by the raged woman who slashed it from neck to shoulder with her machete. The bloody body collapsed into a mushy mound on the ground.

The woman cleared her throat, coughing and tried speaking again.

“They’re coming!” she said, pointing out to the east, “Lots of them!”

Nick moved around the crashed trucks to look out into the distance. At first he could see nothing, just the road, horizon and the sky, then he realised the haze on the horizon wasn’t a haze, it was the horde and their numbers looked limitless. Carter joined him and examined them in the binoculars.

“Holy mother of God, there must be hundreds, no, thousands of them!”

Nick turned to the group.

“Come on, we need to get back to warn the others, they could be at the town in a day, maybe less!”

Lundy Island, England

The cool wind blew across Dave’s face as he walked along the hilltops beside the island’s harbour, taking in the fresh air. He walked past the graveyard where much of the island’s population had been buried years before, the wooden crosses over the graves now weathered and pale. Of the thirty people who were on Lundy Island when the outbreak began, only eight managed to survive the first year. Many people in a panic piled aboard the tourist ferry from
Ilfracombe
, some already infected. Within a week the island was once again free of the infection, but with only six of its inhabitants alive and two tourists.

Dave had been on this island for seven years now. Roger and his fellow survivors had attempted to set up another community, but with even fewer survivors and resources, it had been a disaster just as the first. Soon after they had hit the road and never stopped, until they were finally sick of the nomadic lifestyle, and forever running low on fuel. Roger led the group to the Island of Lundy, taking just a small sail boat and what supplies they had left. Roger’s group consisted of Dave, Tommy, Sandra and Graham, as well as Kelly and Travis who they had picked up the year before. Graham had since died of a heart attack.

Tommy and Sandra had a son not long after arriving on the island, and another two of the people now on the island had a son born just a few months before. The total population stood as a miserly sixteen people, a tiny community hanging onto its existence. The island was three miles long by less than a mile wide, but it provided shelter and food for those who inhabited it. The community spent most of their time farming the small amount of land they needed to, and fishing for food on the coastline. It was a peaceful life and free of the stress and threats they had previously known.

“Dave!” shouted Tommy.

He looked around to see Tommy and his son Ryan walking up the path towards him. Seeing people walk casually in the countryside, without weapons and armour, was a sight he still found odd and yet extremely satisfying after the years they had spent in the confines of their bases and protective equipment.

“Hey, Tommy, Ryan. What’s up?”

“It’s a nice day, Ryan fancies a swim, feel like joining us?” asked Tommy.

They carried on down to the beach, and within ten minutes were in the sea. The water was cold, but none of them cared, the freedom that their island afforded them made so many other worries seem insignificant. Dave turned to look out to sea and could see the glimmer of a boat a few miles out.

“Hey, check it out!” shouted Dave.

“Looks like a fair size boat, Dave,” Tommy said.

“Let’s get back and see if we can get them on the radio!”

They rushed back to the house, it was pretty rare these days that they saw anything at sea. Every year or two a vessel had come across them and managed to do trade, and it was always nice to see new faces.

“Hey, Roger, there’s a boat a few miles out,” said Dave.

“Alright, let’s see if we can reach them.”

Their leader sat down at the console table where the radio was set up.

“This is the Island of Lundy, you are a few miles from our coast, please acknowledge,” said Roger.

There was no response for a minute.

“Maybe it’s a ghost ship,” said Tommy.

“I repeat, this is Lundy Island, please respond,” said Roger.

“This is the vessel Morning Star, over,” said the operator.

“What’s your name, son?” asked Roger.

“Malcolm, over,” said the operator.

“Hi, Malcolm. We’re a zombie free island with produce to trade and company to share, you’re most welcome to bring your boat in.”

“Thank you, we’ll see you shortly, over,” said Malcolm.

Roger put the radio down. He turned to his friends.

“Right, now remember, these are not guaranteed
friendlies
just because they are the living, they could well be opportunists or mad men.”

“But they’re just survivors like us!” said Tommy.

“Think back to before the outbreak, were people always friendly to you all the time? Did crime not exist? Was life always fair? No, what we have on this island is priceless, and I am sure there are still people in this world that would kill to get it. Now I hope that they will be civil and trade some useful supplies, but let’s be prepared for any eventuality,” said Roger.

“He’s right Tommy, we can’t assume anything, there’s too much at stake,” said Dave.

“Alright, they have no idea how many of us there are, I want you two, Travis and Jones to arm yourselves and hold up here. Steve and Giles will meet the boat with me at the jetty, everyone else is to grab what weapons they have and stay safely inside the tavern, ok?” asked Roger.

“Sure, I’ll get the word around,” said Tommy.

“Do it quickly, I’ll get some weapons ready,” said Dave.

“Good, I’m sure this will be a pleasant encounter, but let’s keep our heads and be smart,” Roger added.

A couple of hours later the boat was pulling into the jetty, a fifty-metre luxury sail yacht. There were five men on deck, all with weapons slung on them, a few handguns and machetes. Roger did not like the sight of well-armed strangers, but he could hardly blame them, the world outside their isolated island was a bleak and dangerous one. Roger carried his sabre on a belt, with Chris and Giles having tool belts with hammers slung on them, this kept them armed without looking too threatening.

Lines were thrown over from the boat and Giles and Steve lashed them down. A man stepped off onto the jetty with a grin on his face, approaching Roger.