Zombie Road | Book 8 | Crossroads of Chaos Simpson, A. (new books to read .txt) 📖

Gunny and Griz exchanged a look as the others gathered around and asked questions. So the Utopians weren’t so helpless after all. They didn’t have guns but at least they had something. It was obvious the Chairman had been spying on them, listening in on some of their communications. He knew about the rescue mission and when they were cutting through his territory.

Mistrust causes misunderstandings.

Misunderstandings can lead to conflict. Gunny didn’t want another war, another enemy to fight. The death toll from Casey’s Raiders, the radicals and the Anubis cult had been high. He wanted a hundred years of peace. He wanted to outlive the undead and spend his retirement years fishing and watching the world rebuild and repopulate. He wanted Jessie to find another girl and settle down so he could have grandchildren to spoil.

The kid seemed nice enough. He pitched in to help where ever he could and had earned the crew’s respect over the past few days. Gunny was optimistically cautious about the Utopians. Simon was a smooth talker and had seemed reasonable but by the same token, he had subtlety threatened to send the train to the bottom of a canyon if they didn’t do what he wanted. He had the upper hand, he knew it and came at them from a position of dominance. It was a little unsettling that they could build a zombie killing bracelet out of old microwave ovens. He knew guns and was comfortable with them having all they wanted. He knew how to fight against them and win but how did you fight an enemy that could silently blind or kill with a push of a button?

The warship had slid into the harbor under the cover of darkness and was anchored just beyond a Carnival Cruise line ship tethered to one of the docks. Hundreds of the undead had heard it arrive and were crowded along the sea wall. They were milling around, not yet in a frenzy but sensing the living. They knew they were near and watched the ship with hungry black eyes.

“They’re in position.” Gunny said when he walked into the dining car. “We’re rolling in five so finish up and get ready.”

“They’ll be there when we get there.” Griz said and passed him a plate of biscuits, gravy and sausage. “Here, eat something.”

“The Captain said there are a few hundred zom’s on the docks already.” He told them. “Even with the mortars, we’ll probably be bringing in a few hundred more on our tail. It’s going to get dicey. He’s determined the nearest point to the rail lines. They’ll dock and throw out gangplanks but some of the tracks have container trains. The closest we can get is maybe a thousand yards from where they’ll tie up. We won’t be able to keep the undead off them with gunfire, we’d hit them too. They’re on their own but they have limited ammo. They should be able to power through them. Most of them, anyway. We’ll help where we can but we’ll mostly concentrate on the back trail. We’ll keep the followers from getting close.”

“And once the shooting starts, that’ll bring in loads more.” Stabby said.

“Exactly.” Griz said. “Let’s just hope they can run fast, they can cover the ground quickly and get onboard.”

“We’re gonna lose some.” Gunny said. “There’s thousands of them bottlenecking at the gangplanks. No matter how fast they are, it’s going to take some time. Also, they’ve never been up against a horde before. Some might panic.”

The mood in the car darkened and they lost their appetite thinking about the inevitable carnage.

“Can’t we come up with a better plan?” Bridget asked. “Make something they can run through? Something to protect them?”

“Yeah, if we had time.” Gunny replied. “They’ve been on that ship for four days waiting for us. When we couldn’t get through Tijuana it really threw off the schedule. They haven’t had anything to eat that whole time. They are already weak with hunger, some may pass out trying to cover the distance and every hour we wait, more undead are going to show up. They know they’re going to take casualties. It’s war. It happens.”

He didn’t add that the ship was running on fumes, they couldn’t go anywhere else.

“I can lead them off.” Xavier said. “I can take the rail arm off my velocipede. They’ll never be able to catch it.”

“You’ll probably get hit with crossfire.” Hollywood said. “They’ll be running and gunning.”

“Not if I pull the horde away from the dock before they disembark.” Xavier said. “The bike is powered with a Tesla motor, it’s wicked fast and super quiet. It has microwave guns mounted front and rear, a lot more powerful than the bracers. I’ll let them chase me away from the docks, kill a bunch of them then circle back. It’ll be easy to lose them in all those stacks of containers.”

Griz stroked his beard, a habit he’d picked up because he liked the smell. The sandalwood aroma of the beard oil reminded him of what they were fighting for and what all those soldiers deserved. Civilization. Comforts. A place to call home. If the bike could draw most of them off, that meant lives saved. He gave a half shrug at Gunny’s raised eyebrow. Why not.

“All right.” Gunny said. “Get it ready. I’ll let the Captain know to keep the troops off the deck and out of sight. Hopefully most of them will follow you. We should be there in about an hour if we don’t have any major blockages ahead. Everybody else man your stations, let’s get this party started.”

Xavier hurried to the converted car hauler where his velocipede was strapped and started disconnecting the rail arm. It was a heavy machine that wasn’t very nimble in the curves. It was hard to control, if you jammed the brakes it would toss you over the handlebars and the acceleration would throw you off