He looked at his watch. Fifty-four minutes. He nodded to himself, pleased with what he’d managed to accomplish.
Just need five more, he thought, hopefully the big boy lopper can do it.
He turned and jogged back to the line near the crossroads. It only took a few minutes to reach the college kids, doing some last-minute adjustments on the massive lopper in the middle of the road.
“Holy shit man, you okay?” Calvin blurted, approaching from the truck.
Zion nodded. “Yeah, that was not a lot of fun,” he admitted, “but it did buy us some time.” He glanced at the mower and noticed they’d attached six-foot chains to the bottom rung of the blades. “Is that gonna work?” he asked.
Missy shrugged as she checked one of the connections. “In theory,” she replied.
“Good enough for me,” Zion replied with a nod. He looked back at the truck and trailer, and inclined his head to Calvin. “How much rebar we got left?” he asked.
The sniper shrugged. “I don’t know, fifteen sticks or so?”
“Let’s hitch it to the trailer,” Zion suggested, motioning as he spoke, “jam it through the sides so it sticks out as far as possible.”
Calvin cocked his head. “What are you thinking?”
“We still gotta buy at least five minutes,” Zion explained, “and even with the upgrades, I don’t think the lopper is gonna be able to handle it.”
His friend nodded, recognition dawning on his face when he realized what he was suggesting. “So you’re gonna sacrifice the truck?” he asked.
“Don’t worry, it’s Fingers’ truck, remember?” Zion asked with a lopsided grin.
Calvin opened his mouth, and then closed it, thinking for a moment before shrugging. “That’s a good point,” he admitted. “But, what happens if Wendy doesn’t pick us up?”
“Then you gonna have to show a leg, cause we will be hitchhiking,” Zion quipped. “But, if it makes you feel better…” He turned and cupped a hand around his mouth. “Jermaine!”
His companion ran over, cocking his head. “What’s up?” he asked.
“I need you to go to the crossroads,” Zion said. “When Wendy shows up with the transports, I need you to tell her we need a ride.”
Jermaine gave him a thumbs up. “On it.” As he ran off into the darkness, Zion clapped Calvin on the shoulder.
“Come on,” he said, “we got work to do.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
There were eleven minutes left on the clock as Calvin slammed one more bit of rebar into the side of the trailer. Nearly a dozen spikes stuck out of both sides, with four feet of reach. Zion hopped in the truck and carefully pulled it around the lopper, setting it up in the middle of the road.
“All right, we’re good,” Calvin announced. “Save us a few pieces of rebar just in case.”
Zion held out a hand to Jack as he hopped out of the driver’s seat. “I need one of those weights,” he said. “And a little chain if you got it.”
Jack grabbed a twenty-pound dumbbell and a few feet of chain from the lopper, bringing it over to him. Zion used the chain to tie the wheel down so it remained in position. He looked up, seeing that the horde was within fifty yards of them.
“All right, stand back,” Zion warned, and Jack took a few steps back.
Calvin, however, jogged forward. “Hold up a second,” he said, and darted to the passenger side, opening the glove box. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and headed to the hood where he poured it all over the truck and then lit it up.
Zion nodded in approval. “Bonus fire damage, I dig it,” he said.
Calvin jogged back, and Zion leaned into the truck, popping the engine into drive. He looked back at the rebar, seeing just how far he needed to get to avoid being torn to bits. He took a deep breath and then tossed the dumbbell onto the gas pedal.
The tires screeched as he dove back, narrowly missing the rebar as the truck sped by. The flames illuminated the path as the vehicle of death tore off towards the horde. It picked up speed rapidly, slamming into the front batch of zombies. It lost a little speed, but plowed through a good portion of them. The rebar on the side didn’t deliver kill shots, however it was forceful enough to lop off legs, slowing the shambling dead.
Zion held up a victory fist, a few of the kids letting out hoots of excitement as the vehicle tore through the zombies.
“Harold, hit the lopper,” Zion declared as the ghouls still standing ambled on.
Harold hit the switch before rolling out of the way, the extra length of chain making the machine extra dangerous. The group rallied behind the monstrous machine, watching as the truck vanished from view, overtaken by the dead.
The front edge of the pack slowly made its way to the lopper, the group holding its collective breath that the chain enhancement would work. The first zombies came into range, and the tip of the chain took off a ghoul’s jaw, lopping it off into the woods. More creatures poured into the kill zone, losing chunks of flesh before their skulls cracked.
The heavier machine held its own, not losing its balance just yet, however even with the extended reach, there were still pockets where the monsters could slip through.
“Rebar!” Zion cried, and Calvin tossed him a piece.
He ran up to the coming zombies on one side, spearing one through the chest and driving it back into the reach of the chain, taking off the back part of its skull. He swung wildly, doing everything he could do to hold the monsters at bay.
Calvin pulled out his gun and began shooting on the other flank, picking off creatures one by
