Zombie Dawn Apocalypse (23 page)

“Well, maybe tomorrow will be better,” he muttered as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Resolution Island, New Zealand

The sun had gone down and Bruce and Hackett were sitting in Jake’s home, the old hand had invited them to dinner that evening, prepared by his granddaughter Amy who had developed into as good a cook as she was a fighter. Jake was now in his late seventies, and not in the physical condition to keep up hard labour. For this reason, he did what he could in other respects, one of those being keeping a listen out on the radio frequencies. They had established a strong and steady community on Resolution Island, but they maintained their original purpose, of helping as many of the living as they could.

Jake would check the radio frequencies on the hour of every hour that he was awake, and frequently asked others to do so for him in the hours when he was asleep. He sat at his desk in the corner of the room, Bruce and Hackett sat chatting while Amy cooked the stew for them.

“That incident this morning is something we should give some greater consideration,” said Hackett.

“How so?” asked Bruce.

“Well, there’s every chance that a boat like that could get washed up on our shore. It was more luck than anything else that we noticed it and could sort it out.”

“I don’t see how we could have guarded against such a thing, though. We have what, something like fifteen kilometres of coastline?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy, but this is the survival of our entire community, maybe even what is left of the human race. We cannot risk a single creature reaching the Island, we must find a way to guard against that happening,” said Hackett.

“All we can do is post regular guards and watches up and down the coast, or build a perimeter around our homes, a town wall,” said Bruce.

“We live a life without walls here, let’s try and keep it that way. It’s what we have left of our humanity and sanity.”

“Hey, chief! We’re getting something!” Jake shouted.

Hackett looked at Bruce in astonishment; they had not heard anything on the radio in years. They jumped to their feet and rushed across the small room to where Jake sat.

“What was it?” Hackett shouted.

“Hang on, I’m trying to figure it out.”

“This is Resolution Island, please respond, over.”

“This is base control for the Pacific Flotilla, over,” said the operator.

“Jesus Christ! Where the hell are they?!” asked Bruce.

“What is your position? Over,” Jake asked excitedly.

“New South Wales, Australia, we found notes of your destination at your last location here, how many are you? Over.”

“Just over four hundred souls.”

“My God, we had no idea that there were so many survivors, we are two hundred and thirty two, mostly ex-forces.”

“What are your intentions?” Jake asked him.

“I will take this information to our leader, Dr. Garcia, and be in touch soon, over” said the operator.

“Damn good to hear from you, son, over.”

“Likewise, we will be in contact on the next hour, over and out,” said the operator.

Jake put the handset down and looked at the other two men with a look of shock and excitement in his eyes.

“This must be what is left from the Hawaii base, they would have had a fighting chance from the beginning,” said Hackett.

“Alright, so what are we going to do about it?” Bruce asked.

“We could do with all the help we can get, both to sustain our community, to defend it and to keep the race alive.”

“True, and I can’t believe they are having a great time in Oz, when we left it was a hell hole,” said Bruce.

“Do we want that many strangers on our Island?” asked Amy.

“We need as many people as we can get, and if they have survived this long out there, they must be a capable bunch,” said Jake.

“He’s right, and new blood is just what this island needs, it will boost morale, and having extra hands on deck is definitely a good thing,” Bruce added.

“Alright, so we invite them to join us, all agreed?” asked Hackett.

“Fuck, yeah,” said Bruce.

“Definitely,” said Jake.

“Amy, you happy?” asked Hackett.

“Yes, as long as they do their fair share of the work.”

An hour went by as the four islanders sat eating their meal, eagerly anticipating the next contact. The very idea of another large group of survivors in the world, and so close, was the most exciting news they had heard in years, and they could not resist discussing the exciting possibilities in a frenzy of conversation as they ate. Finally, it was five minutes to the hour and Jake went back over to his radio set, the others pulling chairs up to sit around him. They waited now, silently, intently, desperately wanting to know more.

“Please come in Resolution Island, this is
the Research Vessel Moreau, over” said the operator.

“This is Resolution Island, over.”

“I am Doctor Garcia, leader of the Pacific Flotilla, who am I speaking to? Over.”

Jake handed the radio handset over to Hackett, pleased to have proven himself useful over the years of their survival, but now happy to let others take over.

“This is Bill Hackett, I run the Island, over.”

“Well, Hackett, I will be honest with you, we have been here for what feels like an eternity, we fight a daily battle to survive, and we are all weary of it, we are looking for a better place, over,” she replied.

“I hear you. We have a solid community here. We lost the main island years ago and are now settled on the Five Fingers Peninsula, we could always do with more hands. You’d be most welcome to settle here, over.”

“Bill, I was worried you’d never offer, over.”

“We have a community that supports itself. Providing your people are willing to put in their fair share, we could make this good for us all, over.”

“Understood. There’s not a man or woman among us who is not desperate to get away from this place. We are preparing what vessels we can muster immediately and will depart within hours, my navigator tells me it’ll be about a twelve day voyage, over.”

“Roger, we’ll eagerly await your arrival, over.”

“Thank you, this is exactly the sort of hope we needed, I look forward to meeting you in person, Bill, over and out.”

Hackett put the handset down, he already had a grin on his face.

“Alright, looks like you weren’t the only bastards to survive out there.”

“Na, but those aren’t Aussies, those lucky bastards were probably out on the water when all this shit started,” said Bruce.

“What about our food supplies, Bill?” asked Jake.

“In what way?”

“Well our farms and livestock are only just providing what we need, over two hundred new mouths to feed could create some problems.”

“True, but the sea has plenty more to offer, and with our very own army, we may well be able to look at reclaiming ground.”

“
Fuckin
’ ay,” said Bruce.

“Still, we’ll talk to everyone tomorrow about boosting output, I know it will take time, but the quicker we get started the better.”

“What do you want me to do?” Bruce asked.

“Do what you always do, protect us. We need to get everyone else to work, we need new homes built, more land cleared, more food planted, lots to do, but we will always need protection. Take twenty capable fighters that you can cycle in shifts at the wall, everyone else will be getting to work here.”

“And what about the risk from the sea we discussed earlier?”

“Yes, to not do something about that now would be foolish, we are days away from creating the strongest community we have known since before the Zompoc. We can’t spare fighters or anyone from manual labour,” said Hackett.

“How about the mothers? They can take shifts patrolling the coast whilst they take turns babysitting,” Amy suggested.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Bruce nodded.

“Yeah, and it’ll only be till the fleet arrives anyway. Right, sounds like we have a strategy sorted. Bruce, attend to the wall, I will call a meeting in the morning,” said Hackett.

Bruce hit the sack and was asleep within minutes, tired from the day, but feeling utterly relaxed in the knowledge that life was going to get so much better.
 

* * *

The sun was rising again as Bruce sat in his favourite spot on the wall looking out at the dangerous wilderness before him.
 

“
Woah
, few more than usual!” shouted Christian.

The guards were looking out at the creatures on the other side of the causeway, lined up at the opening, desperately wanting to reach their town of the living. Bruce didn’t even reach for his crossbow, confident in the safety in which they sat, he simply looked out at his foe, studying their blood and rot covered faces.

“Makes you wonder if we have ever made a dent in their numbers, Bruce.”

“Who knows, there must be thousands out there, probably tens of thousands, I doubt we have killed more than a thousand in all the years we’ve been here.”

“You want to take the first shot?”

“Na, mate, I’m heading to town, Hackett is calling a meeting, I’ll be back to tell you the news when it’s done,” Bruce replied.

“Okay
dokey
, mate.”

Bruce climbed down his ladder as he heard the familiar sound of Christian barking the order to fire at will, the usual cull that would take place whenever the creatures arrived at their door. As Bruce rode to the town he could already hear the bell ringing, the signal for the community to assemble in their square for a non-emergency meeting. As he rode into town the last of those not on duty were assembling and there was a clatter of chatter. Hackett let out a burst of his police whistle to draw the crowd’s attention.

“Welcome everyone and good morning. We have some news to discuss, so I will not beat about the bush. Last night we were contacted by the remnants of the US Pacific Fleet, they are currently held up in Oz.”

A mix of cheering and voices immediately struck up, with people shouting more questions than could be heard or understood, their leader was standing on a four-foot stage they had built.

“Alright! Settle Down! Let me speak. There are two hundred and thirty two survivors among them, and I have given them an open invitation to the Island, which they have already accepted. I know some of you may have reservations about bringing strangers into the community, but let us remember who and what we are, human. They may be the only other survivors left in this world, and together we will be stronger than ever before. Their leader has assured me that they will put their fair share into work here, and with their help, we can greatly increase the quality of all our lives, maybe start reclaiming land.”

There were mumblings across the crowd as each and every one of them gave deep consideration to the surprising turn of events.

“The fleet will be with us in about twelve days, what I am asking of you is to put your backs into work until then. We need our farms expanding, land cleared, new homes built, all hands on deck. We can’t do everything in less than two weeks, but let’s make a damn good start and make our new friends welcome!” he shouted.

“Hackett, can I speak?” asked Bruce.

“Yeah, sure.”

Bruce stepped onto the stage before the crowd, who were not entirely sure of what to think of the news, having gotten used to their routine and way of life.

“Morning, all! I know the idea of accepting newcomers into your town may feel a little risky, but let’s not forget who we used to be. Many years ago you welcomed me, and my people into your community, and we have done each other a lot of good since. Let your fear be of the undead, and not the living. Our humanity it something we have clung onto with every fibre of our bodies!”