The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4) by Grist Michael John

Author:Grist, Michael John [Grist, Michael John]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2016-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

11. HIT

Seven demons are coming and we don't stand a chance.

I scan the land ahead hungrily, hoping for something that isn't there. Distant red rock mountains encircle us, closed within a wide red desert plain of red dust, spartan cacti and spreading Pinyon pines.

It's like a trap. I scan the satellite map but the next turn-off south isn't for fifty miles, and there's no way we can stay ahead of them riding rough in RVs across the desert scrub. We can't use the buildings or any other feature to our advantage, all we can do is crash ahead like a battering ram.

But we can't crash through seven.

We're going to collide head on; not a squeak or a scrape but an explosion. My mouth goes dry. It doesn't take a genius to see the way this will play out. Their massive, indestructible bodies will smash the first few RVs off the road, and the others will crash and pile up behind them like a Hollywood chase scene. Our tight formation will work against us. Metal will squeal and buckle, sparks will scrape off the raspy road, glass will shatter and the demons will stalk amongst the wreckage plucking out bodies to ravage.

It'll be a massacre.

One or two demons, maybe we could bull through. Not seven though. We're all going to die.

The decision takes seconds to make and I make it without telling a soul, because there isn't time.

"Ravi and Tomas, drive on!" I call into the radio. "Lara you're with me on the left."

Then I lean over Chantelle and pull the wheel hard to the left. The RV swerves so hard it almost tips, then jumps off the edge of the road onto the rubbly, uneven desert scrub with a thump, coughing up thick bursts of dust to either side. The speedometer drops rapidly to eighty then seventy as the chassis thumps and judders, taking hits to the suspension and wheels it was never designed for. Under the onslaught Chantelle yanks control of the wheel back.

"What the hell?" she shouts, echoed by cries from both Ravi and Tomas in the rank behind, now in the convoy lead. She tries to pull the wheel to the right and get us back on track but I put a hand on her shoulder and she stops.

"Dead ahead, Chantelle," I tell her, "you understand?"

She looks at me and she understands. "We're going to charge them."

"We are." I allow myself a glance back in the side mirror to see our beige and white convoy tearing along the road. A second later Lara's RV peels off from the back and I send up a prayer of thanks.

"Ravi and Tomas take the convoy ahead," I call over the deafening thump and rattle of the RV racing on the scrub. "You know what to do if I don't come back. Lara you're on me, you see what I'm thinking."

"I see," she shouts back, "I wish you'd given us more warning."

I see her in the rearview mirror now, her dark

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