Dawn of the Apocalypse: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel by TW Gallier Page A

escape.  Personally, I would've given up the fight long ago and went away to lick my wounds.
                "What are these guys?  Psychopaths?"
                "Psychopaths, sociopaths, and every other kind of bad path," Mike said.
                Seven bikers, two of them women on ATVs, charged the boat. 
                "Hit them with a grenade!" Charlie screamed.
                Mike did better than that.  He shot the Humvee.  It lit up like a match.  Then he shot two more grenades at the bikers, forcing them to turn tail.  Charlie shot one of the women off an ATV, and the riderless ATV ran over another biker.
                "I thought those things had a kill switch?" I said.
                "I don't know.  It didn't work if it did," Charlie said, grinning.  "That was better than a Schwarzenegger movie."
                "Speak for yourself," I replied as I started the engine.  It took three pulls.  Then I backed us out, and headed downstream.  Charlie and Mike stood with weapons ready in case the bikers returned before we were out of sight and range.  I went straight back to the marina.  "I want to grab some more gas tanks."
                Charlie stood watch while Mike and I went through the boats.  We found five more gas tanks, each more than half full.  It was good enough for now.  We headed downriver.
                I kept us moving under power.  Because of the rain, the river had a pretty good current and messed with me a little.  I honestly began wondering if that pontoon boat was big enough to be on the river.
                The rain started coming down hard.  The wind whipped up, and the water got rough.  At least we had a roof over our heads.  The fact there were no walls didn't help with the wind and rain, so we were all soaked to the bone.
                While I worried about death by drowning, Charlie and Mike put all of our gear in order.  Even with all of our stuff there was still room for all three of us to stretch out and sleep.  I started to feel better about our chances.  My main concern was speed.  The Humvee was faster.
                We were about an hour on the river before I spotted it.
                "Is that a dam?"
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 14
     
                I heard a shotgun off in the distance.  Sean was the only one hunting with a shotgun.  Actually, he was acting all Rambo and hunting with a 12-gauge shotgun, 30-06, and a pistol.  He was loaded for bear, including a wicked looking inwardly curved knife he called a "Kukri Gurkha Blade" as if that meant something to me.
                I prayed it was game, and not a zombie, he was shooting at.  Since it was just a single shot, I guessed game.  It would be nice to have fresh meat for dinner.
                "Jenny!" Fred called.
                I barely heard him.  Voices didn't travel well in forest, but the mountains sometimes helped.  We were hunting in the Chattanooga National Forest.  Roger swore it was filled with game.  After four hours hunting, I hadn't seen a thing.
                I turned back toward the community.  The hunting party was supposed to meet back up before returning home.  The plan was to get home early enough to clean the kill and cook it up, to be divided equally between everyone.  Fred, Bill, Sean, and I got out of our scheduled guard shifts that day to go hunting.  Tomorrow, another group of four would hunt.
                That was the fifth time I'd heard the shotgun that day.  I'd heard a 22 Cal a few times, too.  Both Fred and Bill were hunting with 22s.  I was carrying the 30-30 because I had hopes for something bigger than a rabbit or squirrel.
                Trudging back up the mountainside, I began to reconsider my sanity.  Why did I steadily walk downhill the whole time?