“That’s not gonna do it,” Missy added, crestfallen.
Zion checked his watch. Seventy-two minutes. He glanced at the crossroads, seeing it in the distance. He shook his head.
“No way in hell we’re making this,” he muttered. He looked back at the next mower in the middle of the road, about a hundred yards from their location. “Calvin, get us up to the mower,” he barked.
The sniper complied, backing up as quickly as he safely could. They reached it and the college kids hopped out of the back to help Tori and Jermaine set up the next lopper.
Zion leaned out the window. “I need y’all to move that to the next lane,” he said, pointing to the mower.
“I think it’s more effective in the center,” Tori replied, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Zion nodded. “Normally you’d be right, but we gotta do something drastic,” he replied, and inclined his head to Calvin. “Get the truck across this lane,” he instructed, pointing out the window.
“What?” His friend gaped.
“Get the truck across the lane!” Zion demanded. “Push it up against the end of the concrete median.”
Calvin shook his head, but didn’t question him, turning and nosing the vehicle against the concrete, nothing but grass on the other side.
“Make sure those blades have enough clearance on the truck,” Zion said as he hopped out of the passenger’s seat.
Jack scratched the back of his head. “A horde that size is gonna push through this truck in no time.”
“Unless I’m up there keeping them off of it,” Zion replied, and the group all froze.
“Are you crazy?!” Harold burst out, eyes wide. “Those things will swarm over you!”
Zion simply pointed to his watch. “Sixty-eight minutes,” he said firmly, “and they’re seven hundred yards away. I know those things are slow, but they ain’t that slow.”
“At least let us stay and fight with you,” Jack said helplessly.
Zion shook his head. “Nope.” He pointed at the kid. “You need to get the big mower set up back by the crossroads, and figure out some other way to slow them down. I’ll be alright.”
Harold waved him over while the rest of the group reluctantly piled into the trailer truck to get ready to retreat to the crossroads.
“Okay,” the kid began, motioning as he spoke, “when they start getting close, you need to turn it on here, and flip this switch. Just make sure you stay low, because those things will kick right on.”
Zion nodded and extended his fist for a bump, and Harold awkwardly bumped him back. The older man chuckled and waved for him to run back to the truck. After a nervous nod, he took off, and Zion stared towards the coming horde, still a hundred yards away.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to go all Gandalf on your asses,” he declared. “You shall not pass.”
CHAPTER TEN
Zion checked his watch. Sixty-one minutes. It seemed like an eternity when the forces of the dead were marching towards him.
“Seven hundred yards, give or take,” he muttered. “Seven minutes per hundred yards, which means I still need to buy twelve minutes.” He knelt down beside the mower as the ghouls crept within fifteen yards of him. “Let’s get this beast started up.”
He turned the key and hit the switch before rolling out of the way. Within seconds, the blades rotated rapidly, the breeze from the whipping metal blowing cold on his face.
He nodded, bouncing from foot to foot, psyching himself up for the upcoming battle before hopping up into the back of the truck. He inspected the cinder blocks, seeing about two dozen remaining, as well as a few lengthy pieces of rebar. He picked up the first block, looking at the coming horde.
Zion took a deep breath, pulled his arm back, and then flung it forward, sending the cement flying through the air. It went about four rows deep into the horde, cracking a ghoul in the face and dropping it.
He didn’t waste any time, continuously grabbing blocks and lobbing them as far as he could, doing everything he could to create gaps in the crowd, trying to relieve the stress on the machine. After half a dozen throws, the first batch of zombies reached the truck, gently pressing up against it, reaching out for Zion’s legs.
He stepped back as far as he could and threw a couple more blocks, creating little pockets within the mass. He picked up a piece of rebar and began using it like a spear, forcefully jamming it into the skulls of the zombies at the edge of the truck. The first few slumped over the edge of the bed, giving him a buffer from the reaching monsters behind.
As he did this, the first batch reached the lopper, delivering on the promise. Luckily the blades rotated away from him, so the body parts shot into the wooded area beside the road.
With the zombies directly in front of him taken care of, Zion went back to tossing blocks, this time focused on the groups approaching the mower. He lifted one over his head and threw it almost straight down, knocking over several creatures before they reached the spinning blade of death.
The process went on for several minutes, Zion taking a breather from throwing blocks to resume his rebar attack, thinning out his area so he had room to operate.
But eventually, enough of the thousand-strong horde pressed up against the truck that it began to move.
Zion threw more blocks, knocking over creatures closer to the truck than the lopper, which allowed for the ghouls to bunch up around it. There was a repeated sickening thump, thump, thump from the mower as a batch of zombies entered the kill zone all at once.
He glanced over to see it start to wobble, the pole causing the engine to smack up against the interior walls of the mower. Just as another group of creatures walked into it, he saw it failing, and knew it was time to abandon ship.
Zion leapt from the back of the truck, narrowly missing one of
