Zombie Dawn Exodus (2 page)

Mr Morton zoomed the map out further to show a view
of the entire globe. Most of it was marked in the purple colour
that indicated maximum infection and minimal survival chances.

“As you can see, the entire world is affected. Japan
has suffered terrible losses, with most survivors taking refuge on
the smaller islands or escaping in ships. Many of these are looking
to join the Southern Pacific Flotilla that is assembling. The rest
of Europe and Asia is in a similar situation. More importantly,
things are not getting better.”

There was almost complete silence in the room as the
group digested what had been said.

Captain Mathius signalled to Mr Morton before
standing up.

“The security situation has stabilised for us now
that we have the resources of the Sanctuary. The flotilla currently
includes over twenty vessels at any one time, with many more being
escorted to Hawaii when time and resources allow it. As well as our
current complement of research vessels and transports we have also
been joined by the USS Harpers Ferry, an amphibious transport
vessel that is equipped with a small complement of Marines on
board, as well as helicopters and hovercraft. This vessel can
provide critical aerial coverage as well as a significant
amphibious landing capability. Captain Black is in charge of the
Marine Unit.”

Captain Mathius signalled to the young man who stood
up quickly.

“If you could explain the position of the military
right now?” he asked.

The young officer nodded in acknowledgment.

“As you may be aware, most combat units were heavily
engaged in operations in the first few weeks of the outbreak. With
just a few exceptions these resulted in heavy casualties and the
abandonment of most facilities. Warships lack either the personnel
or supplies to stay operational and have been abandoned in port,
apart from small numbers that are operating independently. We
estimate that of the approximately two hundred and fifty ships,
less than ten are active and each with reduced crews and
capabilities. Food, fuel, people and ammunition are scarce and
needed to keep communities alive,” he explained.

“My unit was almost completely wiped out in
Afghanistan at the start of this. Since then I have moved through
four different combat zones and seen most of my men killed. The
troops on board our ship are all that is left of these units.
Twelve months ago I was a Sergeant, now I am a Captain. Our last
orders were to provide assistance where we can and to help US
citizens re-establish themselves as quickly as possible.”

Dr Garcia spoke before anybody else could join
in.

“Captain Black, what is your ship’s status? Are you
able to conduct operations?” she asked.

Captain Black looked at her carefully, curious as to
the question.

“Our ship is in good condition and well run by the
crew. We have a reduced Marine detachment of nearly one hundred
men, all experienced, well equipped and armed. Ammunition supplies
are good for now, though we always need to secure new sources of
ammunition. We have two hovercraft and two helicopters onboard,
though we use those sparingly as parts are a problem. We are able
to conduct operations. Why? Did you have something in mind?” he
asked.

Dr Garcia smiled at the Marine before turning back
to Mr Morton.

“May I?” she asked.

Mr Morton nodded and returned to his seat.

“There are two pieces of urgent news to deal with.
The first is that we have some results on the development of the
antidote drugs. No, we don’t have a cure but we can hold off the
effects for almost a week, providing the drug is taken daily,” she
explained.

“What is the other piece of news?” asked one of the
scientists.

“We have found a substantial vessel approximately an
hour away from our current position,” she said.

There was a sense of excitement in the room as each
person looked around. Dr Garcia continued.

She’s the Cunard Cruise Liner Mauretania 2. This
ship has been out of contact for some time and finding her was
quite a surprise. She’s dead in the water and it looks like she’s
been abandoned, though that is unconfirmed. We have a UAV on its
way and it should be providing data shortly. There’s a chance we
might find survivors but an even greater chance that we can find
fuel, supplies and possibly intelligence from her.

“Ah, I see,” said Captain Black, finally
understanding the reasoning behind her question.

Mr Morton took his place at the head of the table as
the rest turned their attention back to him.

“So as you can see, the general situation is not
good but we are making cautious strides in turning things around
for those that are left. The Sanctuary is secure and the flotilla
is making slow gains in people and supplies. After speaking with
the newly formed council we are confident of a return to some form
of normality in the next few years,” he said.

“Normality? What do you mean?” asked Dr Willis.

Well, it is our intention to continue looking for
survivors and to start work on re-establishing compounds in secure
areas over a period of time. The Sanctuary proved it can be done
and we intend on recreating this success elsewhere.

“How soon?” asked a sceptical Dr Willis.

“Well, that depends on several key things. The first
of these is how many people we can actually find and save. The more
we find the quicker we can start. The second is how successful we
are on setting up regions that are safe and secure.”

“Aren’t we forgetting about the elephant in the
room?” asked Captain Black.

“The zombies?” asked Dr Garcia.

Captain Black nodded before continuing. “I’ve fought
against these things in the open, at night, in the day, in cities
and even on board ships. They do not tire, do not seem to actually
need to eat and will not stop. The last town I saw put up one hell
of a fight, but in the end each casualty they took simply increased
the enemy’s numbers. What started as a few thousand people against
a few hundred zombies turned into seven people trying to escape
from a town overrun by thousands of zombies. We have tracked them
moving hundreds of miles to find the living, even crossing rivers
and deep lakes.”

Mr Morton raised his hands, looking for silence.

“I understand your concerns and you are of course
correct. Make no mistake, these creatures have brought us to the
edge, and I mean the edge, of disaster. We cannot however let this
hold us back from our greater purpose of re-establishing our
authority over this planet. We will of course start off small, just
as many small groups are trying throughout the world. Already we
know of at least seven groups in Europe, all working to rebuild
small communities. In Australia we’ve heard rumours of nomadic
convoys travelling the deserts and this has been repeated in the
wilderness of Northern Asia. We will be careful and build in as
many safeguards as we can.”

He turned to Captain Black whilst hitting a series
of keys.

“You are right about the undead. The battle for New
York lasted three weeks, and even with the intervention of over
twenty thousand soldiers, airmen and marines the city fell with a
loss of millions. This was repeated in most of the major cities
across the country and the failed confrontations simply drained our
resources away from evacuation.”

Mr Morton brought up the screen that showed
Hawaii.

“The Sanctuary is an archipelago of eight major
islands, several atolls and numerous smaller islets. In the first
weeks of the outbreak the undead broke into the general population
on the five largest islands. The casualties were severe but due to
the substantial military presence there, all but Oahu were retaken.
The population of the islands was quickly knocked down from over a
million to just under two thousand, but this has stabilised. We
have established new research facilities on the islands and are
working on functional housing, farms and factories to eventually
provide the things we need to get back on our feet. After the
undead outbreak through the United States most of the combat units
and ships redeployed to help where they could, and this has
resulted in only a small military presence being retained on the
islands.”

Dr Garcia looked agitated as she received a message
to her PDA device. She read the details carefully whilst Mr Morton
continued describing the status of the Sanctuary. The PDA message
was an update about the Cunard liner and that the UAV was about to
reach the vessel. Hitting a button she stood up, interrupting Mr
Morton.

“Mr Morton, the UAV is in range and we have a live
feed of the ship,” she said.

“Put it through,” said Mr Morton as he sat down.

Dr Garcia stepped forward, pressing a few buttons to
transfer the video feed to the main screen. With several flashes
the feed appeared, showing three different views from the
autonomous vehicle. One image was a thermal display, whilst the
other two were short and long range cameras. On the long range
displays the ship could be seen in all her glory.

“Any damage, it doesn’t look bad from here?” asked
Captain Black.

With a flicker the second display zoomed in closely
to the ship, the detail was very fine and picked out the doors and
windows on the upper hull, as well as the damage to boats and life
rafts that were only half lowered. Dr Garcia tapped on her PDA and
moved the camera down onto several key parts of the ship. The first
was the deck near the bow where what looked like scores of boxes
and cases were scattered. Nearby were barrels and liquid
containers, some were still tied down with cables to pallets.

“Looks like somebody was trying to unload her,
possibly some of the fuel,” said Dr Willis.

The thermal camera showed heat activity at several
key points on the ship. One was near the stern whilst the rest were
close to one of the large function rooms.

“Interesting,” said Captain Black. “The heat could
be from fires or potentially from areas that are still
occupied.”

“What is her complement?” asked Mr Morton.

“Approximately five thousand, but we don’t have the
figures for her last voyage,” answered Dr Garcia.

“I’ve seen enough. We’ll continue this meeting
tomorrow morning. Captain Mathius, Captain Black, Dr Garcia, if you
could wait behind.”

The rest of the people stood up and after packing
away their papers made their way to the guarded door. Once alone,
Mr Morton continued.

“We need firm intelligence on that vessel. I need
the three of you to organise a reconnaissance operation to the
Mauretania 2. For now I just need information, but be prepared for
survivors. If you find anybody you will of course observe standard
quarantine procedures. Captain Mathius, I’m putting you in charge
of this operation, you will handle things from here. I want Captain
Black and Dr Garcia on the operation.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t need a civilian on this
operation,” objected Captain Black.

“Captain Black, perhaps you could be a little more
condescending? I have been on scores of operations and have faced
these creatures on multiple occasions. My technical and biological
research expertise is unparalleled. You aren’t going without
me!”

Mr Morton raised an eyebrow in amusement at the
verbal exchange.

“As Dr Garcia has explained, she is our most
experienced and knowledgeable person. She will assist in an
advisory capacity. Understood?” he asked.

Captain Black raised his hands in defeat.

“It’s your operation, and we’ll play it your way,
for now.”

“Very good. I will leave you to your planning,
report back to me when you have news,” said Mr Morton, as he moved
to the door. He turned to them just before he left.

“Just be careful out there, those things bite!” he
said with a mischievous look.

CHAPTER
TWO

NEW SOUTH WALES, AUSTRALIA

8.15AM

The heat beating down on the RV brought Bruce to a
clammy and unwanted awakening. He’d become accustomed to sleeping
in thick canvas tenting, a far more comfortable experience than the
modern enclosed ways of sleeping outdoors these days. The thick
canvas stopped the sun super heating the tent, and the air flow
kept it fresh and comfortable. Bruce groaned as he sat up on the
bed. He was in a thirty seven foot RV, a motor home, shared with
four other survivors.

Bruce wiped his brow, sweat had already begun
dripping down his face. He was dehydrated from the many beers the
night before. Opening the curtains nearest him, Bruce peered out
across the open plain, along the line of vehicles. This was their
regular routine for nights now, simply park up in a line on
whichever road they were driving, in as open an area as possible.
The beers the night before were considered by most of the group to
be vital to the morale of the survivors. Bruce, who had fallen into
the role of leader, told everyone to treat each day like a road
trip.

He peered through the window then shuffled around,
peering out of the other windows. All he could see was a line of
vehicles behind him, and sand and asphalt to the side and front.
Bruce got to the main door of the vehicle and slid across the three
bolts that were spaced evenly top to bottom. The security of an RV
may have been good enough to keep out the odd thief, but that was
then and this was now. All of their vehicles had received
substantial armour and safeguards.

The door of the lead vehicle swung open and Bruce
stumbled out, he was wearing torn jeans, a faded Motorhead t-shirt
and flip flops. Bruce liked to think of himself as a rock star on
tour whenever he could, it kept him from depression. He unzipped
his trousers and sighed as he finally began to water the sand.
Looking down the line of vehicles, he could already see several
people following his example.