Free Survive by Todd Sprague Page B

by the armful and laid them carefully in the back of the truck. Then he grabbed a couple of Uzi’s, both semi automatic, and several pistols. He threw them all into a tote bag he found behind the counter. Next, he grabbed as many empty magazines as he could find and threw them into another tote bag. After he carried the bags out to the truck, he motioned for Roy to come in and help him with the ammunition. They grabbed every box of ammo they could find, which turned out to be several thousand rounds of ammunition of every caliber.
    As they finished loading everything into the crowded truck, John ran back in and picked up a couple of bows and an armful of arrows.
    “No sense wasting ammo on deer,” John said to Roger as they both walked out together. They closed the shop door and jumped up into the back of the truck. As the truck was pulling out of the driveway, the shop door opened and a little girl, her bloody hands reaching for them, ran out of the house moaning.
    Morgan stepped on the gas as John raised his MP5 and put two bullets into the little Zed who used to be called Emily.
    * * *
     
    Morgan drove the group with its weapon-laden pickup truck through West Brattleboro to Interstate 91. Stalled or abandoned cars littered the road. They began to see Zeds walking singly or in small groups, going from house to house, car to car, looking for anything to satisfy their hunger. Their moans grew louder and louder. As the truck passed them they would notice the truck and follow it. Soon they had a rather large group shambling, stumbling, and in some cases, running after them. Morgan went as fast as he could through the littered streets, but at times he had to go up on lawns or swerve between cars to get past them, and therefore could not go fast enough for the Zeds to give up.
    “This ain’t gonna be easy to get a tractor trailer through, man,” Roger said to John, yelling over the wind and moans of the undead.
    “I know. I have an idea about that too.”
    The pickup wound its way over the highway, which was considerably less crowded with empty cars than the town roads were. One exit later, Morgan pulled the truck off the highway towards a big warehouse complex at the northern edge of town. A tall chain link fence surrounded the complex, and the big rolling gates were closed. A small guard shack stood empty next to the gate. They approached the gate and stopped, scanning the area.
    In the distance, back the way they’d come, a few running Zeds could be seen heading for them. Beyond that, a larger crowd of undead shambled more slowly in their direction.
    “I think the fresher ones are the ones running,” Roger said to John.
    “I think you’re right. Maybe rigor mortis slows them down or something,” John said. “Let’s get this gate open and get inside before they get here.”
    Roy climbed up onto the hood of the truck and began scaling the fence. He climbed over the top and let himself down the other side. He entered the guard shack. A few moments later, the gate rolled to the side, and Morgan drove the pickup through. As soon as it reached the other side, Roy closed the gate.
    As Roy climbed back up into the truck, the first of the running Zeds reached the gate. It clawed ineffectually at the gate, moaning in frustration. Bloody jaws bit the metal of the gate, but did not get through. More Zeds began to arrive, and soon a small crowd of them bit and clawed at the gate and surrounding fence.
    “Let’s get this over with. I don’t want any of them figuring out how to climb while we’re in here.” John said, pounding on the roof of the pickup.
    Morgan drove the pickup right up to the loading dock. A trailer stood in the bay next to them, doors open, with a Volvo tractor attached to it.
    “Looks like this one had just arrived, or was just getting ready to leave. Keys are still in it!” Roger yelled, opening the driver’s side door of the big Volvo.
    The group, with the exception of Morgan, who stood guard