Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 2): February Page 6
Not wanting anything to do with food, myself, I went straight to my room, and other than writing this, to bed. I hope to hell I can sleep tonight...
February 13th Year 1 A.Z.
morning
Though the flames that had been guiding them had died down, the two remaining groups of survivors continued their approach. They met up with one another, the two groups converging at a point barely two kilometres from the foot of the roadway leading up to The Think Tank. The thermal imaging showed them facing each other, weapons at the ready. A group of Dead, perhaps twenty strong, shambled seemingly out of nowhere to attack the parleying groups. Quick to respond to any threats, they made short work of the Dead, then moved away from the corpses, seeming as though they were coming together as one larger group, yet looking carefully at the images, you could see clearly that the two groups were still separate from each other.
The snow had fallen heavy overnight, we discovered as we went topside to finish clearing the road of Dead, rendering movement difficult and slow, though it had ceased falling shortly after what passed for sunrise these days. The Colonel estimated the new people would probably arrive late in the evening, or maybe at the latest tomorrow. The satellites above showed that the road was less choked by Dead than it had been, thanks to our efforts, though they had spread out more along the length of the whole road. This meant we both needed to distract and bait them into attacking the compound yet again, this would be relatively easy, but we also needed to kill as many as we could manage, and Firecracker suggested one or two of us at least make for the ledge again, either to whittle down the Dead from their flank as well, or to provide a well-needed leg up for the two approaching groups.
Junior and I volunteered for the ledge run, Redbeard insisting on joining us, while the rest began gunning down the Dead at the fore. Junior asked, after we had gotten past the few Dead barring our passage to the way up, when we were going to Melbourne to look for Coppers family. I replied that, if he wanted, we could leave tomorrow, and his face brightened. He told me that Pilot had offered to drop him and any other volunteers for the task at a safe looking place to the east, a farm it had looked to have once been, that they had spotted while searching. It would take two days of flight time to get there, apparently, but would shave about a week at least off our travel time to Melbourne. Junior also mentioned that there had been a garage there, though he hadn't ventured inside, but with luck we might find a workable vehicle.
Once we reached the widest part of the ledge, where we could comfortably stand without threat of being grabbed by the Dead, we looked around. Dead aplenty milled around the roadway, though far less dense than they had been when we rescued Firecracker's group. Most of them were oblivious to the fresh meat near them, but a couple were getting the idea. Gunfire stuttered in the distance as The Colonel and her group cleaned up their end of the road. Redbeard pulled the pins from several grenades in rapid succession, launching them into the larger groups of Dead, which promptly exploded into tiny little bits of disgustingness.
Junior and I launched ourselves into the pack, slicing apart and bashing heads into pulpy messes of blackened goo, while Redbeard covered us with his .45s. Before long the immediate area was totally clear, with those Dead behind us staggering into the wall of gunfire coming from The Colonels squad, and those ahead trying to work out which meal to try for. Redbeard joined us among the dead, jumping down lightly for such a large man. The plan was to hold this point until The Colonel reached us, then back to base, hopefully in time for lunch. Sure enough, the gunfire drew nearer, stopping long before they reached us, except for the occasional burst if something twitched when it shouldn't be.
noon
Firecracker had her miners clearing the dead Dead from the road, piling them up ready for burning, while the rest of us ate. I told Apocalypse Girl of our plan to leave for Melbourne in the morning, and she immediately signed on for the journey. I had half hoped she would remain behind while her arm healed, but was also relieved that she was joining us. I felt far more secure with her watching my back than anybody else, even Junior. Travelling several hundred kilometres with a person through an apocalypse filled with shambling Dead trying to eat you at every turn and even other Living attempting to fuck you up was actually really good for engendering trust. I highly recommend it, apart from the nearly dying so often parts, and all the other unpleasantness.
The Twin elected to stay behind, as The Colonel had asked her to help out forming a kind of militia force from among the ranks of the newly arriving groups. They would get here about noon tomorrow, Smart Guy estimated, provided we continue clearing the road. Several hundred more Dead were closing in on our position from behind the new groups, but they would be days arriving. Redbeard, once he found out more about the nature of the mission, signed on as well. Pilot would drop us off, then get back to hunting for survivors.
afternoon
Back at the gate, the Dead pyres burned merrily, though the stench was highly offensive. More Dead had wandered their shambling carcasses up the roadway, though far fewer than in recent days. The miners headed inside for their meal, while Firecracker, The Colonel, Apocalypse Girl, Junior and myself took over for them. Dragging the rotting carcasses of dead Dead was ever so entertaining. The ice covering the road made for an interesting experience, as well. On the one hand, the icy smooth surface made for easy going with the dead-Dead-dragging, but after the fourth time I had fallen on my arse to gales of Apocalypse Girl's chuckling, I was more pissed at it than grateful.
Most of the corpses finally taken care of, all that remained was to clear the Dead that had congregated in the middle of the road. Perhaps a hundred, maybe a few more or less. You don't bother counting the Dead, there are either some, lots, lots, or shitloads. Or so many that all you can do is scream and run the other way, assuming there is one.
Because of the precarious footing that the icy road presented us with, we opted for guns rather than melee weapons, as the Dead that falls down on top of you when you're trying to bash its skull in is likely to be the one that gets you.
There was once a time, in what seemed the long distant past now, when even the sound of one bullet being fired would have nearly made me shit myself, but now... Now the Dead fell under our onslaught, as we moved slowly down the road towards them. The road soon needed clearing once again, and we dragged the nearest group to the pyres while Apocalypse Girl kept an eye on the shamblers nearing us.
She fired off a warning shot, as we agreed she would if they got too close, and we turned around to deal with the threat only to see that the Dead had mainly turned around and seemed to be heading for the incoming survivors. Several trailing Dead turned towards us at the sound of her gunfire, but the main horde had already moved away, set on their own tasty goals. We heard the faint sounds of gunfire in the distance, these survivors were able to look after themselves, but they needed a hand.
Firecracker ordered Apocalypse Girl back to base for backup, giving her a single look that silenced her protest before it had even begun. We checked our ammo situation, found it satisfactory for the task at hand, and Redbeard led the charge, as we carefully picked our way through, around and over dead Dead in order to reach the Dead before they reached the Living that were on their way. It was lucky for us all, Think Tank group and incoming survivors both, that the Dead were as slow and clumsy as they were, because that icy road befouled them as well, not to mention their awkward gait and slow pace rendered catching them up a task that was simply executed. Before much longer Apocalypse Girl rejoined us, with a trio of miners and The Twin in tow.
More guns blazing, this time closer than before. It appeared as though the newcomers were adopting our tactics, gunning the Dead down in a line as they advanced slowly up the road. We answered their barrage with a hail of bullets of our own, tearing into the Dead putting many down.
A voice came from the encroaching gloom ahead of us, challenging us. I shouted back asking what their diet was like these days. They rep
lied that they had not found anything that could reasonably be called food in weeks, that they had been scavenging from the Dead in the worst cases. The Colonel and I shared a meaningful look. One of them shouted that there had been a few people in their group that had resorted to eating the Dead but that they had made them leave in disgust. Another replied that they'd rather starve than that! Still another pointed out that they were starving anyway.
I called out to them once more, saying that they needed to hand over their weapons and surrender. One asked why the hell would they do that, and Firecracker just laughed, saying that we have food, plenty to share, and we would be more than happy for them to come and stay with us, as long as they're willing to work with us for the good of us all. Or else they can stay out here, in the snow and ice, with the Dead lusting for their flesh.
evening
Having swiftly acceded to our request that they disarm, the new people had Doctor and Nurse give them a once over. A bone, broken a couple of days before, required rebreaking and resetting, some members of one or the other of the two groups had minor cuts and abrasions that needed tending to, but there were no bites among them at all, thankfully.
We herded them inside, men and women of varying descriptions, made sure they ate something, and gave them a large area on the floor below us. One pointed out that it felt like he was being held prisoner, Redbeard assuring him toothily through his beard that he had dealt with that same situation, and that they'd get their weapons back eventually. Or they could have them all back right now and fuck off back to the surface. The Colonel followed them below, reappearing half an hour later, after having answered their questions to the best of her ability. She fumed. The two groups distrusted each other, and us as well. Neither was sure whether they distrusted each other more, or us, though from the look on The Colonel's face, we were more suspicious simply because we were inside The Think Tank in the first place. That meant, to them, that clearly we could have had something to do with releasing whatever had happened to the world. Especially, according to one particularly paranoid member of one of the groups, as we were clearly under military control.
As I gathered supplies for my pack for our journey to Melbourne, Apocalypse Girl joined me, expressing doubt as to whether the newcomers could be trusted. I told her that The Colonel could handle any problems that might arise, and that the important part, for us at least, was to either make certain Coppers family, mother, father and sister, were Living and safe, or Dead and dead. We had photos, an address, at least we had a place to start.
February 14th Year 1 A.Z.
morning
No sooner than we had bolted down a swift breakfast than we went topside, to the helipad. Junior waited impatiently for Apocalypse Girl, Redbeard and myself to ascend the stairs. He grinned like a total idiot when we reached him, but I also felt it, it was good to be on the move once again. Now we just had to wait for Pilot...
He was not long arriving, with The Colonel and Firecracker in tow. We loaded our packs into the chopper, and Firecracker took time to thank us for saving her group. She went on to warn us that not all survivors are alike. Some will want to join us, some will just shoot on sight. The Colonel made sure that Apocalypse Girl had not just her phone, but chargers as well. We may find working vehicles, or an area that still has electricity. She had charged it fully before leaving, and was planning on only turning it on to check in with The Think Tank in order to save battery life. I warned Firecracker that I did not entirely trust the new people, and to keep an eye on them. She nodded, replying that neither did she, and that they would certainly watch out.
Pilot told us that he could get us, in about two days of flight time, to a lonely, secluded farm that lay on a side road just off from the main highway leading into Melbourne itself. He said that within two to three days of walking we should arrive at the city itself. He handed us a map with the location of The Think Tank marked in red pen, the path with the least traffic obstructions marked in blue. If we were alone on the way back, we should head back to the farm and get in touch with The Think Tank with Apocalypse Girl's mobile, the map was in the event that we found a large enough group of friendly Living that the helicopter would be unable to carry them all.
We checked our weapons once more, we each had at least one pistol with several reloads each and a melee weapon. I also took the shotgun from the commune along for the trip. We boarded the helicopter, Pilot lifting us up into the sky like a professional.
evening
We flew over hordes of Dead, shambling intitially in the direction of The Think Tank, but they chose to follow the chopper as it flew overhead. Pilot assured us that this was normal, and they'd follow him back the other way as soon as he dropped us off. We flew over wrecked vehicles in the road, covered with grey snow. We flew over a small group of Dead hunched over a screaming form in the middle of the road, the grey snow staining red as the poor sod churned the snow to slurry. One Dead held aloft the unfortunates intestines, stuffing an end into its mouth while gazing at the helicopter as we flew over its head.
We came, as the day was ending, to a rooftop helipad where Pilot requested that we cover him while he refueled. There were not many Dead on top of the building, but the door leading down was wedged open with a spare arm, and more Dead shuffled about inside. Junior explained that they hadn't been game to land at this place because of all the Dead, but with us here it would be much safer.
I drew my katana, electing to save our ammo for later when we really need it, the others pulling out their melee weapons, and we strode into battle. My blade sliced through skull and brain alike with ease, Redbeard crushing skulls with his cricket bat. Junior, armed now with a machete, hacked apart flesh and bone with brutality. The three of us made a small wall that covered Apocalypse Girl as she grabbed the offending arm and shoved the door as shut as it had ever been, cutting off any Dead reinforcements. With all the rooftop Dead dead, and the door barred from outside, Pilot was able to at last land and refuel here at will.
Apocalypse Girl checked in with The Think Tank, while Redbeard and Junior helped me throw the rotting dead off the roof. This seemed appropriate, since Pilot had told us we would need to sleep here tonight. He was not going to fly at night, not in snow, not with this level of visibility. I looked around, and he was right, it was very nearly impossible to see your own hand a foot in front of your face. If not for the lights of the chopper and Apocalypse Girl's phone we would have been totally blind by now.
We piled up in the back of the chopper for warmth, and Apocalypse Girl's phone jangled with the reply from The Smart Couple. All fine here. New ones settling in, some issues, nothing that can't be worked out. Apocalypse Girl winced slightly when I rubbed against her injured arm trying to get comfortable, then the light went out.
An explosion nearby rocked the building, lighting up the night sky briefly. We heard gunfire and shouting, both diminishing into the distance before too long. Another explosion, then another, both leading away from our position.
Before long I head the distinct ting of hail striking the helicopter. This was followed by many more such tings as the clouds overhead processed all the shit that had floated up into them over the last six weeks. Pilot mentioned that he was glad indeed that he had insisted on staying here overnight.
Lightning flashed above, shooting from one cloud formation to another, illuminating our faces briefly. The storm raged for over an hour, then just as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped.
February 15th Year 1 A.Z.
morning
I awoke to a blast of cold air as Pilot opened the cockpit up in order to scrape off the muck that had accumulated on the windscreens overnight, and climbed out of the chopper myself, to stretch the old legs. Junior and Apocalypse Girl, complaining, joined me as I looked over the edge of the roof at the gathered horde of Dead below us.
No new snow had fallen while we were sleeping, but the rotors were encased in an icy tomb. Redbeard was carefully whacking away with a crowbar, chipping
away at it from below. Pilot had said that it probably wouldn't affect us in flight too much, but there was too great a buildup at the rotors base, preventing the engine from even starting.
Apocalypse Girl got some breakfast out for us, jerky from the abandoned town, and cheese from The Think Tank. While we feasted on this bounty, Junior asked Pilot how much travel time to Melbourne on foot would we have to suffer through after he dropped us off at this farm. Pilot shrugged, saying that there was no real way of telling now. We might find a working vehicle, and be there in a couple of hours. He had seen a blockage in the road a while east of the farm, but after that the road seemed clear.