This time, I drive directly at the gate, mowing down anything I can on the way, then at the last second, turn the car sharply right and back away; the gate now has an opening of about half the car’s width.
Just as we start turning right, the driver’s side window implodes, the safety glass showering me. A Rabid’s head snarls at me, and it lunges farther into the car, its teeth gnashing, trying to take a bite out of my arm. Half of its face is ripped off, dark red blood seeping out, with glass embedded into its skull where its skin used to be. It must have hit the glass with terrific force to smash it like that, but this thing still isn’t even dazed.
Before it can lunge again at me, I bring my elbow up with as much strength and speed as possible, smashing it into the Rabid’s jaw. I feel its mandible shatter through my elbow and its head shoots up, crashing into the top of the window frame. Its gnashing stops and it falls away, out of the car. Hysterical screams come as no surprise from the back of the car, from both girls.
“Keep down! Keep down!” This time, I do shout at the girls, who must be petrified, but at the same time I’m shouting, I'm pulling my Sig out of its holster.
With my left hand, I keep the car turning right in a circle, while my right hand is pointing the gun out of the broken window and I am shooting, as more of these fucking things are launching themselves at us. I soon learn that head shots are the only ones that stop these monsters, and when you hit them in the head, they virtually explode, like shooting a watermelon, sending brains and blood splattering everywhere.
All this commotion I can see is attracting more of the creatures to head in this direction, masses of them. As the car completes its circle, the gate is still opening; fuck me, it’s slow, but I am going for it and accelerate, hoping the gap will be wide enough.
We drive into and over yet more bodies as the car rushes towards the slowly opening gate. Rabids are going through the gap as we near it, and most are immediately shot, either by Dan or one of his team and there are more thuds around the sides of the car as more of the Rabids hit it trying to get into us. Some are against the windows but thankfully, the windows don’t shatter, for now.
The gap doesn’t look wide enough for the Discovery but it’s too late; I am committed.
We scrape down the wall on the left side of the car and the wing mirror is ripped off, whilst the right side hits the gate hard with a massive crash that reverberates along the whole length of the gate and back. The car slows suddenly with the resistance. Straining my seatbelt, I push my foot down hard on the accelerator and with loud scraping and mashing sounds, the car manages to break through.
“We are in, girls, but keep down until I say.”
“Okay, Andy, yes,” Stacey says.
Emily tries to say something, but it’s mumbled and I can’t make it out.
Immediately, I see Dan near the gatehouse to my right, kneeling on one knee and aiming his handgun in our direction. As soon as we break through, he shouts to his left, “Close it!”
I see the gate jolt for a couple of seconds, but it doesn’t move, the car hitting it must have damaged it. We need that gate closed and quickly, then thankfully it does start to move, closing as slowly as it opened. I make a mental note to take it up with the gate company about the speed of the gate as soon as I get to the office.….
I stop the car so that the back is blocking the gap we’ve just driven through as much as possible, and I shout to Dan through my smashed window.
“Get your team and get in the car, on the double.”
“Yes, Boss, good idea,” he shouts back sarcastically.
“Emily, quickly! Move over and sit on Stacey’s lap.”
Stacey thinking quickly, swiftly reaches over to help Emily unbuckle her seatbelt so she can climb over onto her lap. I lean down and get my backpack and put it on over my left shoulder ready for our exit from the car. I don’t know how many men are with Dan, but I would guess at least two others, one in the gatehouse and one covering to the left.
There is a massive bang on the boot of the car now; they are trying to get in again. Move it, lads, I desperately think. Another bang hits, this one on the roof. Shit! One is on the roof! Shots are fired from my left and as I look to see who fired them, a body falls down past the back left window.
The shooter, a muscled six-footer dressed in all black, including black wraparound sunglasses, is not one of our men that I recognise, but nevertheless, I quickly lean over, pull the handle and open the passenger door ready for his entry. He runs over and jumps into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.
“That was fucking full-on!” our new passenger exclaims. He turns to check on Dan and notices the two girls in the back. “Excuse my French, girls.”
Dan and Ian, another muscled operative I do know, are running towards us and are only feet away when the rear window explodes in behind me. I rapidly swivel in my seat, turning and raising the Sig.
Through the open rear of the car, there are three targets, their grim faces looking straight at me and clawing to get through. The girls are both screaming and now very near hysterical, the sound of the three shots coming in quick succession from the Sig. All head shots don’t calm them, but I can’t help that right
