Zombie Dawn Exodus by Michael G. Thomas Page B

used to be able to spot
them by the car fires that would spread to anything nearby that was
flammable. There were times when we found hundreds of cars and
probably up to a thousand dead outside some cities,” answered
Nick.
    Artur lifted himself back up so that he could see
out of the hatch that had been cut into the roof of the Land Rover.
It was roughly done and the edges were covered in a piece of green
garden hose so he wouldn’t be cut as he moved about. On top of the
vehicle, attached to a metal mounting was a vintage World War II
Bren gun. This distinctive light machine gun was a staple weapon of
the British Empire and this particular one had been deactivated for
a long time. The workers back at the compound had reworked it
heavily and added new parts so that it was once again functional.
The modification of weapons and supply of ammunition was a real
issue, but the vehicles of the convoys always got priority. One
very handy modification was the fitting of a large spotting scope
on a mount next to the main gun. It meant Artur could spot possible
targets from a long distance away. Artur pulled back the bolt and
then swung the weapon around as he scanned the surroundings. From
his position he could see a coach about three hundred metres ahead.
He banged his hand on the roof of the Land Rover, Nick shouted back
up.
    “Yeah, I see it. Get ready,” he ordered.
    Sound came through the radio’s speakers from one of
the vehicles.
    “Any update on the route? Is it a Z-Zone?” crackled
the voice.
    The Land Rover slowed down to almost a walking pace
as the two vehicles moved cautiously towards the smoke plume. As
they reached the two hundred metre distance they could make out a
crashed coach and at least three other large vehicles. They were
all badly damaged and all looked heavily modified, much like their
own vehicles. More importantly, they were completely blocking the
road ahead for the convoy.
    “We have multiple vehicles blocking the route. Looks
like another convoy came this way,” said Nick.
    With a squeal the Land Rover came to a stop. Nick
leaned forward slightly and pulled out a double-barrelled
hammer-lock shotgun. The weapon had been shortened at some point,
but even this modification failed to make the vintage weapon look
even close to a modern firearm. Nick pulled the lever and broke the
weapon’s barrel to expose the chambers. Placing his hand in his
combat vest he pulled out two red cartridges and slipped them into
the gun. With a click the weapon was ready and he took the portable
radio off its mount and slipped it onto his belt. He then slid back
the steel shutter and opened the door, the smoke from the fires
quickly entering his nostrils.
    Artur heard the door opening and swung his Bren gun
around to cover the abandoned vehicles. The weapon swung quickly
around on its heavy, metal mounting.
    Nick stepped out, holding the shotgun up to his
shoulder and looked around at the scene of carnage. He could count
five vehicles. Each one was heavily modified with extra cargo
straps, racks, reinforced windows and mounts for weapons. The
armoured bus stopped close to the Land Rover, the two vehicles
forming a ‘v’ shape in the road. The air operated doors swung open
to reveal the dark interior of the bus. Four men stepped out, each
heavily armed with firearms, crossbows and close-quarters weapons.
They moved forwards, meeting up with Nick.
    Standing out at the front, a noise caught his
attention from the embankment on the side of the road. The first
thought that entered his mind was that this could be an ambush. He
dropped to one knee and aimed the shotgun in the direction of the
sound. A few more sounds came from the same direction, but before
he could move one of the vehicles in the middle of the road started
to shake. He gave a hand signal and without a word the men around
him fanned out. The two on the left moved to the embankment whilst
the other two approached the crashed vehicles.
    From the top of the