SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

38

TOMMY

Tommy barely acknowledged the three zombies disappearing under his hood in a spray of blood. With an entire army of those bastards closing in on them, the only thing on his mind was the question of whether or not the Humvee would fare better than Clint's Rolls-Royce.

It was a four-ton, armor-plated steamroller with all-wheel drive and a 50/50 split differential. About the only thing it couldn't do was climb over the iron barricade they erected. Still, looking at the sea of trouble surging towards them across his family's front lawn, he had to wonder if it was strong enough to weather even this storm.

Playing it safe would only end badly for them. Their one chance for survival meant going all in. The dead weren't about to cut them any slack. If he didn't face them with the same unwavering determination, they were all as good as dead.

As if in agreement with him, the remaining monster clinging to his hood growled and groped for a better handhold. Scowling, Tommy stepped on the brakes, skidding to a stop.

The dead man with the lopsided jaw lost his grip and ended up on his back in their path. Before he could get up, Tommy tramped down on the gas pedal. The Humvee bobbed over the yowling speed bump, travelled a bit, and swung around to inspect the damage left in its wake.

This time, every zombie tormenting them for the past several minutes stayed down for good. Though he welcomed the reprieve, Tommy knew it was too soon to celebrate their win. Through the bloodstained windshield, everyone in the Hummer could see the rest of the undead army rushing towards them.

"If anyone has any brilliant ideas, now's the time to share," he uttered.

"This ride come tricked out with a rocket launcher or two?" Erica tried.

"Nope."

"Yeah," she sniffed. "In that case, I got nothing."

"What's Carl doing?" Tommy wondered aloud, checking the progress on the excavator through his side window.

Seated behind him, Mona did the same through her window. "Looks like he's managed to bend all the bars back," she noted. "No luck on the wall, though."

"We should try luring the dead away," Erica said. "Buy him more time."

"I don't think that's gonna work," Eve replied. "They're following Camilla now. She's smart enough to know that stopping the Cat is their number one priority."

Tommy nodded, his eyes widening. "You're right! That makes her our priority. We take her out, maybe we stand a chance at throwing the rest of the herd into disarray."

"Are all your plans that anorexic?" Erica grumbled with a cocked eyebrow.

"These things are deadly no matter how you slice it," Tommy acknowledged, "but without Camilla, maybe we can keep them confused long enough to squeak out of here."

Everyone fell silent, pondering his suggestion. Eve glanced back at the others, her pretty features hopeful. "What choice do we have?" she asked. "I say we try it."

Mona affirmed her position with a nod. "Me too."

All eyes turned to Erica. She shook her head at them. "Whatever. I'm good with any plan that gets us out of here. Just don't get us killed."

Tommy scrutinized the oncoming mob, searching for their leader. After a few seconds, he finally spotted Camilla's white hair bobbing in the stream of bodies. The way she limped behind the others suggested that she hadn't escaped their previous encounter unscathed. This time, he needed to be sure to finish the job.