The Undead World (Book 6): The Apocalypse Exile (War of The Undead) by Peter Meredith
Authors: Peter Meredith
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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up out of the mass of undead, engulfing her, the lustful teeth rearing up and then chomping down, biting through the thin cotton of her clothing.
Lindsey lost her grip on Sadie’s foot, and she was carried out into the sea of zombies. She was like a sinking ship. In that slow-motion view of Sadie’s, the girl was slowly engulfed, slipping beneath the grey waves until she was gone.
From behind Sadie, Joslyn accused: “What did you just do?”
Sadie couldn’t answer. Guilt had her by the throat. A million excuses ran through her mind: Lindsey had been bitten! She was going to die anyway! She shouldn’t have been trying to pull Sadie down with her! None of that mattered. Once again, Sadie had killed without a second’s hesitation. Once again, she had put her needs ahead of any consideration…not that she had taken even a moment to consider anything at all. She had taken an innocent life to save her own.
The thought fed the black cloud in her mind. It churned, an evil tempest, brooding, reeking, foul, however there was no time for Sadie to breathe in that self-hate. The truck was still canted and bucking and her pathetic, greedy life was still in danger. The cloud would wait. It was patient. If Sadie lived it would be there, waiting.
Somewhere in those endless seconds, she blinked and time snapped back into place. It was with surprise that she felt herself still sliding toward the grey horde. With one hand around the baby and the other holding the Glock, she had to rely on her feet. She braced her left foot on the dash and the right—the one that still felt Lindsey’s ghostly fingers on them—on the door frame. She was splayed and open and, beneath her exposed undercarriage, was the horde, surging and moaning in hunger, clawing over each other to get at her.
Time seemed to speed up more and more quickly as hands took the door and pulled it back and others grabbed the frame and mouths with broken teeth breathed their horrid breath up at her.
“Drive!” yelled Sadie and then fired the Glock. Her hand thrummed at the violence of the weapon. A beastly thing with dangling lips and only a single ear fell away with what was left of its brain adding to the mess on the door.
Michael had been attempting to drive them out, but had only succeeded in spinning his wheels as he tried to force his way into the teeth of a veritable grey wave. So many of the undead surged toward the truck that the mound became a hill and their shredded bodies acted almost like a treadmill. The tires went round and round and the beasts were turned to grey, creamed corn mush that shot out the back.
Still, it was an all-wheel drive vehicle and, gradually, the truck conquered the hill of bodies, only to sink down into the trough where it bogged down in exactly the same spot as Grey’s truck had, only now the bog of shredded skin, and ruptured intestines and the foul soup of black blood was deeper. To make matters worse, Michael also had to contend with the drag of the fifty or so zombies clinging to the sides of the truck.
Michael hit the gas for all he was worth and, just as Grey’s truck had done, Michael’s truck slewed to the right. As a good ‘ole boy from Alabama, he had never driven in snow or even ice and when the truck began to skid, he didn’t turn into it as he should have done and thus he continued to slide until his rear wheel went into the gutter and the truck’s momentum ceased. Out of ideas, he gunned the Cummins 240 horsepower engine until it screamed as if in pain. A shudder racked the truck. It shimmied and shook as if it was coming apart. Confused, Michael stared down at the dash, perhaps thinking that the dials would tell him what he was doing wrong. When an explanation didn’t present itself, he decided to put the truck in reverse. Before he could do so, his door was pulled open and he was confronted with the same horror Sadie was dealing with. The zombies were mounded as high as the doors.
Sadie cleared her door with
Lindsey lost her grip on Sadie’s foot, and she was carried out into the sea of zombies. She was like a sinking ship. In that slow-motion view of Sadie’s, the girl was slowly engulfed, slipping beneath the grey waves until she was gone.
From behind Sadie, Joslyn accused: “What did you just do?”
Sadie couldn’t answer. Guilt had her by the throat. A million excuses ran through her mind: Lindsey had been bitten! She was going to die anyway! She shouldn’t have been trying to pull Sadie down with her! None of that mattered. Once again, Sadie had killed without a second’s hesitation. Once again, she had put her needs ahead of any consideration…not that she had taken even a moment to consider anything at all. She had taken an innocent life to save her own.
The thought fed the black cloud in her mind. It churned, an evil tempest, brooding, reeking, foul, however there was no time for Sadie to breathe in that self-hate. The truck was still canted and bucking and her pathetic, greedy life was still in danger. The cloud would wait. It was patient. If Sadie lived it would be there, waiting.
Somewhere in those endless seconds, she blinked and time snapped back into place. It was with surprise that she felt herself still sliding toward the grey horde. With one hand around the baby and the other holding the Glock, she had to rely on her feet. She braced her left foot on the dash and the right—the one that still felt Lindsey’s ghostly fingers on them—on the door frame. She was splayed and open and, beneath her exposed undercarriage, was the horde, surging and moaning in hunger, clawing over each other to get at her.
Time seemed to speed up more and more quickly as hands took the door and pulled it back and others grabbed the frame and mouths with broken teeth breathed their horrid breath up at her.
“Drive!” yelled Sadie and then fired the Glock. Her hand thrummed at the violence of the weapon. A beastly thing with dangling lips and only a single ear fell away with what was left of its brain adding to the mess on the door.
Michael had been attempting to drive them out, but had only succeeded in spinning his wheels as he tried to force his way into the teeth of a veritable grey wave. So many of the undead surged toward the truck that the mound became a hill and their shredded bodies acted almost like a treadmill. The tires went round and round and the beasts were turned to grey, creamed corn mush that shot out the back.
Still, it was an all-wheel drive vehicle and, gradually, the truck conquered the hill of bodies, only to sink down into the trough where it bogged down in exactly the same spot as Grey’s truck had, only now the bog of shredded skin, and ruptured intestines and the foul soup of black blood was deeper. To make matters worse, Michael also had to contend with the drag of the fifty or so zombies clinging to the sides of the truck.
Michael hit the gas for all he was worth and, just as Grey’s truck had done, Michael’s truck slewed to the right. As a good ‘ole boy from Alabama, he had never driven in snow or even ice and when the truck began to skid, he didn’t turn into it as he should have done and thus he continued to slide until his rear wheel went into the gutter and the truck’s momentum ceased. Out of ideas, he gunned the Cummins 240 horsepower engine until it screamed as if in pain. A shudder racked the truck. It shimmied and shook as if it was coming apart. Confused, Michael stared down at the dash, perhaps thinking that the dials would tell him what he was doing wrong. When an explanation didn’t present itself, he decided to put the truck in reverse. Before he could do so, his door was pulled open and he was confronted with the same horror Sadie was dealing with. The zombies were mounded as high as the doors.
Sadie cleared her door with
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