Zombie Dawn Exodus by Michael G. Thomas

been insistent that we remain alcohol
free in Babylon, not because the Lord wills it or the bible tells
us so, neither have any issue with alcohol in moderation. Our rules
have been in place so that we can all remain alive! However, we
have now survived a year in this new world, a world occupied by
evil. We have beaten all the odds, stuck together, and achieved a
sturdy and lively community. Let us all share a glass of wine
together in celebration, as you have all earned it!” said
Wells.
    The crowd erupted with laughter, quickly taking the
bottles and passing them around. Each man and woman filled their
cups as high as they could go until the bottles were empty.
Finally, they sat quietly, impatiently and with all attention on
the Pastor, waiting for his approval.
    “Now, let us drink to our fallen friends, our living
comrades, to the grace of God and the abolition of evil!” shouted
Wells.
    The people all stood and raised their glasses before
taking their first sips. Jack sat down with a sigh, he was clearly
unimpressed by the gesture, though his dissatisfaction went
unnoticed by the Pastor, but not to Madison.
    “What’s wrong, it’s what you wanted isn’t it?” asked
Madison.
    “No, I said a beer, but that’s not the point. Your
father would never give out alcohol in this day and age unless he
considered it vital to morale, meaning, there are cracks appearing
in the community,” said Jack.
    “Maybe he just thought we could all do with a
relaxing evening and a reward for our work?” asked Madison.
    “No, it’s not the way the Pastor works. He’s
methodical, he makes actions for the greater good, not conscience
or instinct,” said Jack.
    “Yeah, tell me about it,” said Madison.
    “What is it?” asked Jack.
    “Nothing, just him being his usual self,” said
Madison.
    “Well, let’s at least enjoy this drink while we have
it,” said Jack.
    It was a solemn evening for those who knew more
about the life and workings of Babylon than the majority, knowing
that this was the best it would get, and that it wouldn’t be
repeated often. Wells again rose to speak, his audience were
already silent before he had fully stood up.
    “We’ve had a long and hard year, I will not deny it,
but you have all done well and continue to do so. On Saturday we
will have a baseball game, for all to watch. In fact, we’ll have
two, and cycle the sentries so that everyone has a turn to either
play or watch,” he said.
    The crowd again cheered at their leader’s speech,
clawing at any hope or fun that they could possibly find in their
lives. The evening came to a close and Madison went back to her
watch tower to join the guard who was in it. It was not her turn
for duty, but she couldn’t tolerate returning home to her father
that night.
     
    CHAPTER
SIX
     
    ENGLAND
     
    Nick pushed the gearstick into fourth as the Land
Rover picked up speed on the wide six-lane carriageway. He was only
doing twenty miles per hour but with the amount of debris scattered
across the lanes, any faster would have been suicidal. It was
amazing that after just a few months the road had deteriorated so
badly with holes, debris, abandoned vehicles and possessions.
    Nick led the convoy of eight vehicles in a long,
scattered column across the deserted debris ridden motorway though
the heart of England. He drove a late nineties model Defender, the
same kind of vehicle used by British forces in Afghanistan just a
few years ago. It was of a similar size to an American Chevy
Silverado. It was a tough, utilitarian four-wheel drive and hadn’t
seen any serious changes in design since the sixties. The Defender
had been modified in several ways to make it useful and reliable in
these exceptional circumstances. The first addition was the wheel
protection made up of hanging metal slats over the tyres to stop
damage from wrecked cars and possible raiders. The doors and
windows were covered in thick mesh and sliding metal shutters. The
front of the vehicle was