World of Corpses by Scott W. Cook

Author:Scott W. Cook [Cook, Scott W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2019-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

From the personal journal of Samuel R. Decker

On one hand, we scored at MacDill. The bad news was that by the time we finished loading the deuce and ahalf, a rather substantial horde of zombies was schlepping our way.

On the other hand, the deuce and ahalf truck we “borrowed” wasn’t one of the older standard M35’s, it was a newer vehicle in the family of the Light Medium Tactical Vehicle series, and had an armored cab complete with a Lexan ballistic windscreen.

In other words, a truck that could take some fire.

On yet another hand, which made three so far… that’s a lot of hands… we’d also found some diesel fuel and topped off the truck’s tank.

“Sharky, what about firing up one of the Vipers or SuperCobras,” Andrea said as we piled into the cab, “I could fly it out there and strafe the bridge. That’d show those fucks what’s what.”

I grinned, “I love that idea… except that we don’t know anything about the aircraft. We might have to scrounge up fuel, swap batteries, yadda yadda yadda. Then we’d still have to drive this truck somewhere to offload.”

“So what’s the plan?” Carl asked.

“Take seventy-five south to two-seventy-five,” I replied, “Get on the Skyway and simply drive up to the bikers and order them off the bridge or mow them down with the M240.”

“Just like that?” Andrea asked.

“Just like that,” I replied, putting the truck in gear and heading away from the approaching horde.

I was more than happy to get off that base. I don’t know what it was, but like the rest of my team, I felt this strong sense of evil hovering around the place. I know that’s stupid and obviously a product of our stressed out minds. Being in this desolate place where a battle had been lost…

And it wasn’t the zombies, either. For all of their danger and all that they represented, they weren’t evil. They weren’t responsible for their actions any more than an amoeba was. They were, in essence, a human-sized virus only doing what it was programmed to do.

But there was something. I wish I could’ve put my finger on it, but frankly we had better things to do.

Oh, and of course, the drive south wasn’t nearly as simple as it could’ve been. Nothing ever was in this brave new world.

Somewhere around Riverview, we ran into another impressive horde of the walking dead. They seemed to be milling around on the highway, spreading from the tree line on either side and for a ways down the road. I couldn’t tell how many of them there were, probably several thousand.

“Fuckin’ zombies,” I muttered, “I’m tired of fuckign zombies…”

The two and a half ton truck was a burly beast. The actual weight of the vehicle was several times that, and I figured it’d be fairly easy to simply plow through the monsters, shoving them aside or simply driving over them as we weaved between stalled vehicles.

“What’re you doing?” Carl asked.

“I’m going to try and push through,”

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