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

The Colonel stormed in at that moment, flatly stating that nobody was going anywhere near that fucking bomb any time soon.  Apocalypse Girl asked just what had brought all of the Dead out of Melbourne, Sister saying that she wasn't sure, but she thought it was the grenade that Redbeard had thrown at the bandits that had been chasing us into the storm-water system.  The noise coupled with the vibrations made for Dead brains thinking of food, apparently.

The Smart Girl pointed out, also, that before the Dead had left the city a number of small groups of Living had been spotted converging on The Family's territory, seemingly joining up with them.  “Fucking bandits!”  Sister spat.  In the last few days before we had rescued her, she had encountered some of them individually and in small groups, she told us.  The two lone bandits had both tried to rape her, resulting in her having to bludgeon them both to death in self defence.  The small groups had been trying to kill her out of revenge for their fallen brethren.  After several of each of these groups had fallen to her arrows, they had given up.

Now, however, it appeared as though the bandit groups had thrown their collective lot in with that of The Family, no doubt The Mother had manipulated them into agreeing to help her take The Think Tank by force.  The Colonel ordered the closest view The Smart Girl was able to manage of The Family's position.

Nodding, the perpetually lab-coated and bespectacled girl complied.  She locked onto the relevant position, zooming in as much as she was able.  We were able to clearly see The Mother, surrounded by her crossbow-wielding guards who seemed to be watching everything at once.  Others milling about the camp were clearly bandits, the two groups working separately, yet together.  It was obvious that there were a couple of different factions present among the bandits, too, but they were kept well apart by The Family.

“Target practice for everybody tomorrow.”  The Colonel insisted, before Apocalypse Girl and I retired to our rooms.

March 6
Year 1 A.Z.

morning

Though I lay awake for a large portion of the night, I eventually slept like a log.  Apocalypse Girl had to shake me awake, and even then I felt like nothing so much as rolling over and going back to sleep.  She wouldn't take no for an answer however, and shortly afterwards we entered the kitchen to grab a late breakfast.  Sister was in there with Junior, the sight of whom filled me with guilt.  If not for me, the young lad would still have both of his arms.  Overcome, I began to apologise to him, only to have him start laughing.  Naturally this put me off a little bit.

“Dude!  Going into Melbourne was my idea, remember?  I was the one that insisted we track her down,”  Junior gestured in Sister's direction with his stump.  “Remember?”  I told him that I remembered all of us agreeing to find the teen hothead, but yes, he had certainly been the most adamant.  “Okay, look, I know you blame yourself for my arm, and for that bitch outside coming for us, but it's not your fault!  I was the one that fell on her son, then that big fucker fell on both of us.  You put a bullet in his head, sure, but he wanted you to, I saw that in his eyes.”

Apocalypse Girl supported Junior's assertions, further saying that The Mother had overreacted totally when we had passed through her land on our return trip, but since it had been her only remaining son, she could understand that, somewhat.  Not enough to hook up with bandits and rapists to declare war against us, though.  “Bitch is just fucking crazy,”  She stated.

“Crazy or not, they outnumber us three to one, they are heavily armed, and I'm not too certain about our topside defenders' loyalty.”  The Colonel said, striding in.  She still looked as though she hadn't slept, but she had freshly taken a razor to her hair, and was loading herself up on coffee whilst she spoke to us.  “If she's in charge, and not one of the bandit groups, then she'll want the bandits in the vanguard.  She's crazy, yes, but not stupid.  They're as much a danger to her group as they are to ours, the main difference being that she is out there with them.”  With that she stalked out with her coffee, shouting behind her a reminder about target practice.

noon

Firecracker was overseeing the shooting range, making certain everybody could use as many different types of firearms as we had available, with Doctor painting targets with vulnerable points of the human body, kidneys, heart and lungs in particular.  The idea was to let The Family wander on up the road, and when the gunfire starts, kill as many of them as we can manage.  As these were Living, however, The Colonel decided that creating a few Dead from the vanguard of bandits to cause a bit of havoc would help us out a little.

The sound of assault rifle fire filled my ears, the scent of gunpowder lay heavy in the air.  Picking up a spare sniper rifle I joined The Twin, Apocalypse Girl and Sister under Archer's expert direction.  He had needed to fulfil many different roles in Vietnam, including that of a sniper, which meant he was ideal for training the four of us.

Archer also had us making use of silencers, as our first shots at the least, should take the enemy unawares.  This reduced the initial muzzle velocity of each bullet slightly, and Archer wanted us used to it.  Firecracker and The Colonel both nodded approvingly upon seeing our progress, the latter suggesting that the five of us take up a position atop the helipad.  Our topside-exiled guardians would be our first line of defence, but the five of us armed with these rifles would do far more damage before The Family even get anywhere near them.

evening

After we had eaten, I sat in a smaller computer lab alone with Apocalypse Girl, both of us talking quietly about everything we had experienced together since first meeting at that ill-fated party.  So much death.  The attempt to keep Valet alive after his bite and subsequent infection, eventuating in his Death, and death.  The first place we had come to consider home, the commune, that had been taken from us by bandits and the Dead, and our flight from it.  The Kid and his strange infection, that would kill and raise others in mere minutes, but afflicted him in other ways.

Coming to the strange ghost-town of Melrose Park, where I had found my sword, then the tiny little place where we had met Copper, that hadn't even known the Dead had risen, until the horde following us arrived.  Our narrow escape from that place, Archer's not-quite-sacrifice, though we had thought him well and truly dead at the time.  Biker, who had escaped from an incredibly nasty situation, eventually blowing her own head off with a shotgun after slaying the person responsible for causing her such anguish and pain.

Our desperate, though incredibly slow, flight through the snow with The Snail, short lived though it was, losing Copper in the process.  Then The Smart Couple getting in touch out of the blue, sending Pilot to rescue us, learning of The Facility, and helping out first Auntie and Redbeard's family, then Firecracker and her group.  The trio that had been eating the Dead, that The Colonel had dispatched in utter disgust.

Then came our trip to Melbourne, through The Family, though at first they had been friendly, even willing to help, but with The Mother losing her only remaining child during our rescue of Sister, she went more than a little nuts.

The helicopter crash that nearly killed us all, would have done if not for Archer's timely arrival.  Then the Depths of The Think Tank, and all we had found down there.  Then we came at last to the massive amount of Dead approaching The Think Tank, slowly but inexorably coming closer with each passing second.

Apocalypse Girl brought up the satellite image on a nearby computer, so that we could check on the progress of the Dead-carpet.  I heard her swear, then echoed it myself as I saw the trail of destruction that lay in their wake.  A group this large could easily flatten the upper compound, then it would be a matter of simply falling down the elevator shaft in large enough numbers.  For a group that large, they'd be inside The Think Tank in hours, maybe minutes.

About the best we could hope for right now was for The Family to turn around and inflict some seriously heavy losses to the legion of Dead approaching.

Not fucking likely.

March 7
Year 1 A.Z.

morning

I awoke while Apocalypse Girl slumbered, snoring away contentedly with her dream-world.  Perhaps she dreamed of the life she had lived before this one, as I did occasionally, maybe of another life built upon the ashes of the Dead.  Extricating my arm from under her head without waking her proved difficult, but not the impossible task of previous mornings.  I showered, by which time Apocalypse Girl had roused herself.  We ran a razor over each other's scalps, to keep them fresh and frozen.

Together we headed for the mess area, Gift-Shop Girl and Auntie having prepared a huge breakfast for everybody.  We sat at a table with The Colonel, Firecracker and Redbeard.  The Colonel, finally, looked well rested.  When Apocalypse Girl commented on it, she simply said that she hadn't ever had any trouble sleeping the night before a battle.  Looking around at our other defenders, it appeared as if only the three of us had managed to get any sleep at all.  Redbeard had bags under his eyes, Firecracker's red mane snarled and tangled its way down her back.

Apocalypse Girl offered to cut her hair, Firecracker's reaction turning from shock and offense to gratitude when she realised how easily the Dead would use it to make a meal of her.  They went off to find a spare bathroom to shear her flaming mane.  When Redbeard and The Colonel were done breaking their fast, they headed off to the main computer lab, where I joined them a few minutes later.  Archer was there already, seated upon a table, watching the approach of the bandit vanguard of The Mother's army.

They moved up the road in several groups, clumped together for warmth and safety.  The few Dead at the lower end of the road that approached were struck down by club-wielding bandits, or gunfire, none of them getting near enough to do any harm.  The main bulk of The Family had finally reached the campsite at the bottom, and were already preparing a second wave of attackers for us.

noon

Topside, The Twin awaited us at the helipad.  Apocalypse Girl and Firecracker had rejoined us by this stage, the latter sporting a freshly shorn scalp.  The Colonel surveyed the oncoming enemies with her binoculars, suggesting that each sniper concentrate on a single group.  Clumped together as they were, with such high-powered rifles as we had there should be little difficulty in making multiple killing shots.

The Colonel then left us to Archer's expert supervision.  He, The Twin, Sister, Apocalypse Girl and I  attached silencers to our rifles, then spread out along the edge of the helipad, taking aim at the approaching bandits, trying to ignore the freezing cold of the grey snow falling on our freshly shaved heads.

Through my scope I could see them, practically smelled their filthy rags.  I could see the boils on the face of the bandit leading one group, aimed a little lower, pulled the trigger.  He staggered as my bullet hit his chest, his fellows dragging him up again roughly.  I sighted up another bandit, fired again at the chest, to once more have him stumble, yet continue onwards.  Archer called out that they wore armour of some kind, better aim for the head.

I lined up a third bandit, fired before I was ready, and saw his throat tear open.  His mates, thinking he was alright, pulled him back upright, dragging him along.  I blew the brains clean out of another invader, and the throatless corpse began to twitch as his companions dragged him along.  Aiming at the head of another victim, he turned at the last instant, which saved his life at least temporarily, though the man behind him lost his lower jaw.  My target had turned to see exactly why one of his mates was squealing like a little girl.  Throatless Dead had started gnawing on his cheek, that was the reason.  The group scattered, Throatless Dead and his victim both being clobbered into a headless pulpy mess by men they had no doubt been pissing up with just last night.  Other Dead, many more of them than I could easily count, surrounded the survivors, many being slain in their attempt to get at their flesh, but as the sheer weight of numbers of Dead piled up over them, no amount of struggling would save them.  We could hear their shrieks as they were torn to pieces.

The other groups of huddled bandits fared little better, The Twin taking off the heads of most of her group long before any Dead got near, Sister and Apocalypse Girl managing to down three apiece of their targets before they were swamped.  Archer, however, had decided to be a bastard.  He was shooting limbs from his bandits, an arm here, a leg there.  Leaving them alive, screaming, bleeding and in agony as a prime target for the Dead that unhurriedly rushed in their general direction.

Another wave of huddled bandit groups approached us from The Mother's camp, and as I sighted up my first victim of the new wave, I noticed a scout, one of the newcomers that had been exiled to the surface, returning along the ledge.  Thinking no more of it, I took the head from an approaching bandit, then another.  More Dead had arrived by the time I lined up my third, rather than wasting the shot I just watched them all die horribly.

“Trouble.”  Archer stated flatly.  As he spoke I heard assault rifle fire open up on the Dead at the barrier.  This was in no way part of the plan.  The Colonel ran up to the helipad shouting something about traitors, and that we needed to fight through them to get back inside The Think Tank.  At that moment, one of the newcomers rounded the corned behind her, to be met with a round from The Colonel's .45 in the face.

Slinging my sniper rifle over my back, I swapped it for my katana.  I had slain so many Dead with this blade that it was getting ridiculous, but this was the first time I had drawn it with the intent of spilling Living blood.  It gave the blade a whole new gravity, as though the mass of thousands of worlds concentrated on the sword itself to weigh it down.  Telling The Twin and Apocalypse Girl to cover us, I took Sister by one hand, holding my sword in the other, and together we ran.