SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

37

EVE

With a roar of its engine, the military Humvee they procured weeks ago crashed through the closed garage door. Crunching aluminum and bone under its tires, it tore through the ranks of the dead gathered outside. Those who weren't immediately crushed ended up knocked aside during their explosive breakout like pins in a bowling alley.

The dead picked themselves up and chased after them, howling. From the front seat of the speeding Humvee, Eve stared out her window. Only a small handful of zombies remained behind to investigate the opening garage door in the adjoining bay.

The Rolls revved its engine, waiting for the gate to raise enough to squeeze under it. Before that could happen, Eve saw the dead rush inside. She craned her neck, watching for any sign of the others. When seconds passed and there was still no trace of them, she began to fear the worst.

Finally, sporting a few new dents and some cracked windows, the car cleared the garage with several monsters still clinging to it. Clint veered wildly, shaking off all but the one clamped to the hood. The zombie repeatedly smacked its head against the windshield, trying to break through. All it accomplished was to leave a smear of black blood over the glass.

Tommy cut the wheel sharply, bumping Eve's forehead against the window. She turned around in her seat, focusing her attention on the trouble directly ahead of them. The Humvee swerved left and right, running down as many zombies as possible.

She reflected on the last time Graves tore through a mob with the Hummer, two weeks ago. At the time, she couldn't even bring herself to look at the bloodshed. Now, after everything she'd seen and done, it barely fazed her. Either her brain had overloaded and gone numb since then, or it simply refused to process the horrific events from her gaping eyes. Whichever it was, she'd take it; anything to make this living nightmare more bearable.

Eve glanced over at the driver. Apparently, she still wasn't as accustomed to carnage as some people. The grin plastered on Tommy's face was that of an adolescent thoroughly engrossed in a video game. He was having far too much fun for someone embroiled in a life and death struggle.

Graves must have thought so too. The hitman growled from the back seat, "Don't push our luck, kid. Get us to the construction yard in one piece."

"Like he said," Erica wailed, desperately trying to hang on in the center divider. "Your crap driving is bruising me all to hell."

"One sec," Tommy replied, stepping on the gas. "I want to hit up an old friend first."

Eve looked past the zombie bouncing off their right fender. Straight ahead, a white-haired woman flanked by several guards screeched at the oncoming juggernaut. Tommy hit Camilla's group at top speed, either sending her minions flying or crushing them under their wheels.

The alpha zombie leapt into the air. Her attempt to throw herself on the hood ended badly. She brutally slammed against the armored grill and flew over the roof.

Eve looked over her shoulder, watching out the back window as the body hit the ground hard. Camilla bounced and rolled several times before finally coming to a stop. She couldn't tell if the zombie took a fatal blow to the head or not. At the very least, she showed no signs of getting back up after that pounding.

"Damn, that felt good," Tommy exclaimed. "Now, where can I drop you off?"

"We're looking for a large excavator." Graves checked the handwritten label someone taped to the keychain. "CAT 374."

"I know it," Tommy said. "That's where I ran into that zombie a few nights back. Hang on." He turned right and drove straight for the northwest corner of the property, site of the parked construction machines.