Free The Rise of Macon: A Zombie Novel (Macon Saga Book 2) by Micah Gurley Page A

and he
needed to save all the ammo he could.
    "Hold on," said James, his voice strained. The
Tahoe swerved to avoid hitting a pack of diseased that formed together, but ran
into two standing in their path. The truck shook at the impact, a line of blood
spattering across the windshield like a piece of modern art. James pushed the
gas again, barely making it past the main intersection in town, before it
filled with diseased.
    Thousands of them stumbled through town, mainly not walking
on the road, but straight toward the direction of the noise, which kept moving.
The diseased kept changing directions, but most didn't stay on the road, a
fortunate thing for James and Kyle. Most, but not all. In front of the truck, a
thin wall of them, too slow to change directions, walked right towards them.
    "Hold on," James said again, though Kyle's body
was so tense, he couldn’t imagine being able to clutch something any tighter. James
kept his speed up, then slammed on the break and hit the thin line of diseased
at 20 mph, enough to knock them back, but not cause major damage to the truck. The
truck shook from the impact of the diseased, but James floored the gas pedal,
and the faithful truck surged ahead again, now to an open road. They'd made it
through town.
    Kyle, forcing himself to breath, couldn't remembering ever
going through something like that before, even in the army. His heart, racing
like a cheetah, felt like it might jump out of his chest. He took two more
breaths, then said reluctantly, "We need to keep them following us. Get
ahead of them and I'll lead them. Pied piper time."
    For the next 10 minutes, James sped up and slowed down,
sometimes honking his horn, sometimes letting Kyle shoot a few of them. Behind
the Tahoe, a horde of diseased followed, their growls and moans rolling over
them like a tidal wave. Packed so tight together, the slower ones would fall,
crushed, never having the opportunity to stand up again. Kyle popped out of the
sunroof and took a minute to view the fading town. Devastation. It was the only
word Kyle could think of to describe what he was seeing. Half of the building
were burnt completely to the ground, their smoldering ruins still smoking. Other
places still stood, some looking completely normal, as if a blood sacrifice had
been painted on their doors, and the plague passed by. Kyle just hoped the
Costco still stood, the group needed food. Now, he just needed to get back
alive and without leading the horde to the fort.
    "We're a mile or so from the Coast Guard station. We
need to get there a few minutes before this horde."
    "Copy," responded James. The whole day, he'd
never asked Kyle what they were doing, what the game plan was. He let Kyle plan
all of it. Kyle had tried to explain, but James just shook his head. Kyle would
never understand him, but didn't have the time to psychoanalyze. This next part
would be the trickiest.
    After some final directions, and two turns, they arrived
outside a 10 foot fence with wide open gates. Above the gate, a white sign read
U.S. Coast Guard station Oak Island.
    "We're in luck, the gate is open, turn the Tahoe
around, pointing back in the direction we came from." While James did
this, Kyle hopped out with his rifle and a bag he'd prepared. He closed one of the
gates and latched it into the ground. Kyle looked up to find that James had
finished turning the truck. "Alright, get what you need, we're saying
goodbye to this thing."
    James didn't respond, but grabbed his rifle, bag and a pair
of binoculars that were on the dash, and slid out of the driver's seat. He
moved back, as Kyle reached around the seat and pulled out a red brick, with
traces of mortar still stuck to it. Kyle studied the console in the middle of
the truck and flipped two switches. The first switch turned on the blue police
lights on the roof of the Tahoe. The lights, never actually used at the plant,
were more for show, but they did work. The second switch, this one also never
used, blared a