Zombies! (Episode 10): State of Emergency by Ivan Turner Page B
Authors: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
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knew he could never have crossed the bridge even that quickly without the threat of zombies, he was still chewing his cheek over the time spent waiting. He kept telling himself that he was safer with the cops and that it had all worked out better than he could have expected. He could only hope that Abby and Sam were alive and safe. If they weren't… If something had happened to them… If he saw them walking toward him as the living dead…
What would he do?
What could he do?
He was beginning to understand why Jazz had given him the gun. All he would need was three bullets.
A few minutes into the trip, the tail lights ahead glowed a bright red and they came to a stop. There was a brief command over the radio and the officer driving the car threw it into park. He looked to his partner, said "Here we go," and got out. Martin sat tight for a couple of minutes, not knowing what to do. There was silence both inside the car and out. Then all of a sudden, a huge concussion sent the world spinning. The tank had fired. Martin had never heard anything like it. Even in the back, he could see the bright light that had erupted. The tank fire was followed by gunshots. Unlike before, it wasn't just a couple of shots and then nothing. It was continuous.
Unable to stand it any longer, Martin got out of the car. It had started to snow harder. He doubted he'd have been able to see the Hummers and the sanitation trucks at all if it weren't for the lights. He went forward slowly, getting lost in the cacophony of shots. When he passed the first plow, he looked up and saw that no one was in it. That seemed odd until he reached the second one and saw that both sanitation men were there. Their police escorts had gone to fight. The two men's eyes were glued to the scene ahead, a scene that Martin couldn't view from where he stood. Rounding the passenger side, he climbed up. The man inside was startled at first, then slid over to make room. He didn't know Martin, had never seen him before. But he was a living breathing human being and that seemed to be all that counted.
They didn't have a good view over the tank, but they were slightly left of the tank so they could see enough. Fires burned on the pavement where the bodies of dozens of zombies lay in pieces. Soldiers and policemen were lined up to either side of the tank. They were shooting in waves and reloading the same way. This allowed them to keep up a constant fire on the approaching hoard.
There had to be several hundred of them. They approached wave after wave heedless of the flames and the bullets. The tank fired again and the center of their rank was obliterated, bodies flying in all directions. The falling snow melted in the air and the wind parted the dust and smoke. Behind it all, crowding the bridge as far as the eye could see were zombies.
Martin had never seen so many.
No one had ever seen so many.
Across the other side there were more. Some were trying to bite their way through the separating fence but most just kept right on walking. The sound of gunshots was deafening. Zombie bodies fell to the pavement and others scrambled over them. It became quickly clear that they were too far outnumbered. It would only be so long before some zombies got into arms' distance. After that, things would get very ugly.
The driver of the truck levered himself to jump out. Martin caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and reached across the cab. Though he was a strong man, he could never have held the driver if the driver hadn't wanted to be held.
"Where do you think you're going?" Martin asked.
The driver didn't say anything. The tank fired again. More bodies were tossed backward and to the sides. It slowed them momentarily.
"You've got room on the left." Martin pointed around the tank, then pointed to the second driver. "You get back in your truck, seal the doors, and follow us."
He wasn't quite sure what Martin had
What would he do?
What could he do?
He was beginning to understand why Jazz had given him the gun. All he would need was three bullets.
A few minutes into the trip, the tail lights ahead glowed a bright red and they came to a stop. There was a brief command over the radio and the officer driving the car threw it into park. He looked to his partner, said "Here we go," and got out. Martin sat tight for a couple of minutes, not knowing what to do. There was silence both inside the car and out. Then all of a sudden, a huge concussion sent the world spinning. The tank had fired. Martin had never heard anything like it. Even in the back, he could see the bright light that had erupted. The tank fire was followed by gunshots. Unlike before, it wasn't just a couple of shots and then nothing. It was continuous.
Unable to stand it any longer, Martin got out of the car. It had started to snow harder. He doubted he'd have been able to see the Hummers and the sanitation trucks at all if it weren't for the lights. He went forward slowly, getting lost in the cacophony of shots. When he passed the first plow, he looked up and saw that no one was in it. That seemed odd until he reached the second one and saw that both sanitation men were there. Their police escorts had gone to fight. The two men's eyes were glued to the scene ahead, a scene that Martin couldn't view from where he stood. Rounding the passenger side, he climbed up. The man inside was startled at first, then slid over to make room. He didn't know Martin, had never seen him before. But he was a living breathing human being and that seemed to be all that counted.
They didn't have a good view over the tank, but they were slightly left of the tank so they could see enough. Fires burned on the pavement where the bodies of dozens of zombies lay in pieces. Soldiers and policemen were lined up to either side of the tank. They were shooting in waves and reloading the same way. This allowed them to keep up a constant fire on the approaching hoard.
There had to be several hundred of them. They approached wave after wave heedless of the flames and the bullets. The tank fired again and the center of their rank was obliterated, bodies flying in all directions. The falling snow melted in the air and the wind parted the dust and smoke. Behind it all, crowding the bridge as far as the eye could see were zombies.
Martin had never seen so many.
No one had ever seen so many.
Across the other side there were more. Some were trying to bite their way through the separating fence but most just kept right on walking. The sound of gunshots was deafening. Zombie bodies fell to the pavement and others scrambled over them. It became quickly clear that they were too far outnumbered. It would only be so long before some zombies got into arms' distance. After that, things would get very ugly.
The driver of the truck levered himself to jump out. Martin caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and reached across the cab. Though he was a strong man, he could never have held the driver if the driver hadn't wanted to be held.
"Where do you think you're going?" Martin asked.
The driver didn't say anything. The tank fired again. More bodies were tossed backward and to the sides. It slowed them momentarily.
"You've got room on the left." Martin pointed around the tank, then pointed to the second driver. "You get back in your truck, seal the doors, and follow us."
He wasn't quite sure what Martin had
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