Straight ahead, a horde in the aisle quickly gained on them. There was a sickening crack to her left, prompting her to look over and see Zion delivering another skull-cracking blow. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted her.
“Finally,” he said.
She jingled the key rings. “Sorry, had company.”
“Same here,” he replied, putting his weapon in lance mode and ramming it into the chest of the next zombie, driving it back into the ten or so remaining creatures. He thrust hard, knocking several of them to the ground before darting back to Wendy.
“Follow me,” she said, and handed him a set of keys before they ran towards the shuttle buses. They were moderately large, enough to hold thirty people comfortably, or forty uncomfortable if need be. They each took a bus, getting inside quickly and closing the doors behind them.
Zion sat behind the wheel, watching as the zombies staggered to the door, smearing blood on the windows as they tried to get to him. He looked forward when Wendy honked her horn, prompting him to start up his engine.
It took a moment for the large vehicle to rumble to life, and they sat there for several seconds, letting the buses warm up from their long slumber. A few moments later, Wendy honked again before popping the vehicle into gear.
Zion followed suit, and they slowly rolled out to head off back to camp.
CHAPTER TEN
The two vehicles raced down the road towards the camp, at least as fast as buses could go while still navigating the streets. As they came around the last corner, Zion saw that the road horde had arrived at the hole in the wall.
The two guards fired as quickly as they could, dropping zombies thirty yards away from the entrance, but it did little to stem the tide. Wendy put the pedal to the metal, gaining speed and honking the horn as she led the charge to the hole. The two gunmen dashed out of the way, allowing the buses to zoom on by.
Wendy sped off towards the meeting spot, but Zion screeched to a halt. He dove out and pointed to one of the gunmen.
“You, drive!” he barked, pointing at one. “You, with me!” He pointed to the other one, and then glanced at the man clambering up into the bus. “And don’t leave us behind,” he said.
The driver nodded and took off, while Zion and the other man stepped out through the hole in the fence, staring down at the hundreds of zombies bearing down on them.
“Start shooting!” Zion bellowed, and the man complied, picking his targets carefully and delivering headshots with his hunting rifle. The lead creatures fall, causing some stumbling, but really only buying them mere extra seconds.
Zion, meanwhile, looked around the area at the debris the two men had moved out of the way. He eventually focused on a large piece of sheet metal, that if turned sideways could cover the gap in the fence, but only up to waist height.
“Help me with this!” he yelled.
The gunman slung his rifle over his shoulder and rushed over to his companion, and they picked up the large piece of metal together. They pulled it inside the camp, and Zion motioned for him to set it up against the wall.
He looked to his new friend. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
The man blinked at him and shrugged. “Sure, why not?” he replied.
“Good!” Zion declared and pointed to his feet. “Lay down on the ground in the middle and press your legs against this!”
The man blinked at him again, and then it dawned on him what Zion was going to do. “You’d better be swinging that thing like a goddamn madman,” he said, motioning to the wooden weapon.
“Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about that,” Zion assured him.
The man begrudgingly laid on his back and pressed as hard as he could against the sheet metal that plugged the gap in the wall.
Zion gripped his weapon tightly, watching as the ghouls approached, spreading out across the line. “Here they come, get ready,” he warned.
The man gave a thumbs up as he focused on keeping pressure on the wall with his considerably muscular legs.
As soon as the first creature touched their makeshift barricade, Zion brought his weapon down in an overhead strike, dropping it. Then he flew into a flurry of swings, two-by-four whooshing and cracking and delivering death.
The man grunted on the ground as he strained to hold the wall in place, looking up in terror as he saw zombies grasping down at him, fingers coming within inches of his feet on the waist-high wall.
Zion rushed to the center, crushing blow after blow to the creatures closest to his partner on the ground. They slumped over to the side, adding weight but also a bit of a corpse barrier to the creatures reaching for the blockade.
He looked to his left, seeing that the flimsy material was starting to give way on the edge. A creature was able to push its way through, flaying the rotted flesh from its legs as it did. He rushed over and smashed its face in, and then dropped his weapon, grabbing the slumped corpse by the shirt and belt and flinging it into the crowd, hoping to trip up some of the creatures and relieve the pressure on the wall.
As soon as he picked up his weapon, a few zombies began to push through on the right. His stomach sank, knowing his plan was busted. The man on the ground saw the incoming ghouls and began to scream incoherently.
Zion rushed over and gave the first zombie a hard shoulder hit before kicking the other one back. He tossed his weapon down the street away from the wall before running over to the man on the ground.
“Get ready to run!” he cried, and wrapped his hand around the gunman’s collar. He
