Zombie Dawn Apocalypse (26 page)

In less than a minute they entered a clearing with enough space for two or three people to walk abreast. No sooner had they arrived when Fernanda heard a sound. She gave a hand signal and the other two stopped, all of them looking for the sign of danger. It happened with almost no sound as five of the undead crawled from the darkness of the undergrowth and rushed them. Kowalski was knocked off his feet as the Captain jumped in and hacked the first creature to pieces with his blade. Fernanda pushed two more back whilst repeatedly hacking at their arms and head. Kowalski, shaking his head lifted himself up and joined in. Just a few more slashes and the things were dead for the last time.

“You both ok?” asked a panting Captain.

They nodded and after a few seconds straightening their equipment, they moved on and further into the woodland. They could just make out the light from the buildings and perimeter fencing to their right as they circled around. After walking for three more minutes they stopped and faced the compound. The whole of the tree line ahead was brightly lit by the erected flood lamps, that provided security all along the barrier. Behind the barrier was a small workshop and the recreation area, known as the clubhouse, that had been taken over by Ford and his small band of thugs several months previously.

Captain Black placed his machete back in its sheath and from his side he pulled out a long truncheon, it looked like a shortened baseball bat. He turned back to Kowalski and Fernanda who were both ready and repeatedly checking their watches.

“Wait for it...” he said.

Nothing happened, the lights stayed on and there appeared to be some kind of commotion inside the compound.

“Fuck!” swore Fernanda to herself.

The lights flickered and then went off across the entire compound.

Go!” said the Captain as he leapt forward, rushing the fence.

In just a dozen steps they reached the barrier and quickly vaulted it. The higher barricade was just feet behind and with a lift from Kowalski the Captain was up and over. He turned back, helping to pull the other two over the barricade and inside the northern section of the base. There was a lot of noise yet the lights were still down.

Moving carefully they worked around the building. Fernanda entered the clubhouse first, quickly followed by Kowalski. It took just seconds though before she reappeared at the door.

“Nobody here, something’s wrong.”

“No shit!” replied Kowalski.

“Wait, can you hear that?” asked Black.

They stood silently for what seemed like an eternity. There was the noise of movement and smashing glass then it went relatively quiet with just the sound of loud talking and the odd shout. There was another pause and then the scream of a woman’s voice.

“Fuck, that sounds like the Doctor. Come on!” barked Black as he rushed off into the compound.

They covered the distance in less than half a minute and without pausing ran directly into the long abandoned motor pool where Ford was standing with his arm around Dr Garcia’s throat.

Fernanda moved to grab her rifle and one of Ford’s thugs lowered a shotgun, pointing right at the marine’s chest.

“Hey, easy now, Ford,” said the Captain, trying to calm the situation, “what’s the problem?”

“You know what the problem is,” replied Ford, as he manoeuvred the Doctor between him and the Captain.

“This bitch is planning on leaving me here, yeah, I know your plan,” he said with a snigger.

Kowalski, looked to the side and past the crazed Ford, “What the fuck!” he said.

Ford, confused for just a moment looked in the direction of Kowalski’s gaze. It was all the time the Captain needed and in one smooth movement he whipped out his Colt 1911 automatic from his right thigh holster. The first bullet struck Ford in the shoulder and knocked him backwards. As he flew backwards Black fired three more shots, two striking the man with the shotgun in the chest and the third just missed the second and final man. As the injured Ford hit the ground, Fernanda rushed forward and punched the last thug in the side of the face. The blow was heavy and knocked the man to the floor where she followed up with several kicks to his chest.

Captain Black moved forward and held onto Dr Garcia.

“You okay, Doctor? Making me save your butt again I see,” he said with a grin.

Fernanda had already clasped handcuffs onto the man she had struck whilst Kowalski checked on Ford and the man that had been hit in the chest. With the sound of the commotion a number of the people from the camp arrived, some with weapons though it was clear that the problem was over.

“Ford is injured, the bastard will live though. This guy, well, he has a hole in his chest, I think it’s safe to call this one a kill.”

The lights flickered and then most of them flashed on though a number remained down.

Fernanda did a quick scan of the area.

“Captain, we’ve got gaps in the line. I recommend we get on the ships and fast.”

As if to signify the importance of their fragile situation a volley of gunshots came from the west.

Captain Black shouted at the top of his voice.

“To the ships, grab what you can and move it!”

The marines made their way down the hill and towards the jetties where the boats and ships were moored. The largest were the research ship and a Harpers Ferry amphibious transport vessel, though there were a dozen smaller vessels tied up in various states of readiness.

As the people made their way to the craft more gun shots blasted out. The evacuation siren sounded, it was incredibly loud and could be heard all over the base. It was not used for anything else as the sound was likely to attract the undead. Given the circumstances, it was hardly an issue. Dr Garcia was now recovering and trying to compose herself.

“The craft are already loaded, we have all the equipment, supplies and weapons on board,” she said whilst moving up the access ramp to the deck of the research ship.

More gunfire erupted across the camp though most of the people were now already on the boats and small ships. Kowalski ran up towards the Captain and Dr Garcia.

“We’ve got a problem with the Harpers Ferry,” he said with a tone of urgency.

Captain Black turned to the Doctor.
 

“Get the Flotilla to sea and get started, we’ll catch up,” he said and then started back down the ramp.

A group of a dozen marines dashed past, running along the water’s edge towards the marines’ personal vessel, the amphibious transport. Though they were marines they looked nothing like they had ten years before. Half of them were new recruits, whilst the others were seasoned veterans with long and tough careers behind them. As well as their well-worn combat fatigues they carried additional armour, especially around their necks and joints. They looked more like a cross between a conventional infantryman and a medieval knight. At their sides each also carried side arms and close quarter weapons such as machetes and maces. Times were obviously very different to their days fighting insurgents in Afghanistan.

“What’s the problem?” asked Captain Black, as he and Kowalski fell in behind the group of marines.

“There’s debris blocking our exit. We have three guys down there now but they say it’s going to be another ten minutes at least before we can move. Should we abandon the ship?” he asked.

The camp was now almost completely empty save for a handful of people carrying the last few supplies to two small ships. The smaller vessels were already pulling away and the Moreau was belching smoke as she powered up her engines. With a final blast on her horn she started to pull slowly away from the quay. The marines were now just a short distance from the Harpers Ferry. The ship looked like a small merchant vessel but carried an interesting assortment of equipment on its deck, including two small hovercraft and a helicopter that was covered and lashed down. A dozen marines were standing along the deck firing down into the waterfront as the first of the zombies tried to get close to the ship. A volley of fire from the group running along the water’s edge cut them down and in seconds they were across the ramp to the ship. Kowalski and Captain Black were last across and as they hit the deck the ramp behind them started to lift. The Captain moved up to the firing line and lifted his M4 carbine from his shoulder.

The second wave of the undead was much bigger and thirty or forty of them split off and made for the ramp. The marines’ fire cut down many but their numbers continued to swell until seven or eight of them were grabbing and pulling at the ramp.

“Get them off the ramp,” shouted Kowalski, as he aimed carefully at the nearest.

More gunfire crackled as one zombie after another was flung backwards, yet for each one that fell another two appeared.

“Where the hell are they coming from?” asked Captain Black as he added his own fire to the battle.

With a sickening scream the motorised winch burnt out under the strain of the pressure and smoke blasted from its rear. The ramp dropped three feet and hit the stone quayside. The zombies almost seemed to sense their opportunity and made for the access to the ship with renewed zeal. Fernanda and two other marines had worked their way to the bow of the ship where she took control of the retrofitted weapons mount. It was fully manual, but these days simplicity was king. The two marines helped load the weapons whilst she spun the twin fifty calibre mount around.

“Get back!” shouted the Captain as he quickly worked out her plan.

The marines moved back a few feet and took up position on the deck where they could still pick off the odd creature. There were now a dozen of them on the ramp and hundreds more were pushing their way to the entrance. The first four were already stepping onto the deck when the marines’ rifle fire cut them down. This was nothing next to the power of the bow weapon’s mount. With the deck clear Fernanda opened fire. The Twin M2HB heavy machine gun fired a massive bullet that measures half an inch in diameter and was easily capable of shredding aircraft and lightly armoured vehicles. Against the undead this weapon was overkill but the kind of overkill that the marines could only applaud at. The first fifty rounds tore off arms and heads as the ramp was plastered in sparks and flashes. Only one creature made it across and Kowalski took care of it with a careful shotgun blast to the chest. As more attempted to cross Fernanda swung the weapon further to the left and started to cut apart the ramp with the weapon.
 
The ramp structure shook and rattled as bullet after bullet took chunks out of the structure. The second swarm did even worse than the first as not one made it across. With a loud grinding sound the ramp buckled in the centre and then with one final groan the last half snapped and dropped into the water, taking three of the creature with it.

A great cheer rang out across the deck as the only access point to the ship was severed. Captain Black headed for the bridge, closely followed by Kowalski. As he made his way inside a marine approached him.

“Sir, the route is clear, we’re ready to go.”

“Take her out and join the Flotilla,” replied the Captain as he looked towards the shoreline.

The entire camp was now overrun as the undead hunted for any signs of life.

“I hope we left nobody behind, if we did they’re zombie food now,” he said grimly.

With a mighty growl the engines revved hard and leaving a great plume of white foam the vessel pulled slowly away from the quay and out to sea. As the bow pushed out they could see the silhouette of the rest of the Flotilla across the low light of the rising sun. The largest by far was the research ship, but there were a number of slightly smaller converted cargo vessels and a good number of boats they had recovered over the years.

A blast echoed from the side of the camp and the light exposed a great horde of dark shapes moving about.

“Is it just me or do we always seem to be leaving our places of refuge with fires to the rear and the open sea in front of us?” asked Kowalski wryly.