Zombie survivor

[99] Trevor

The bone-chilling howls of the horde grew louder, rolling through the air like a death knell. The raiders, once so smug and confident, now scrambled in a panic. Their leader, still groaning on the ground after Chloe's brutal retaliation, barked weak orders as his crew hauled him onto the bus.

"Get us out of here! Move it!" he yelled, his voice strained and frantic.

The bus roared to life, its engine sputtering for a moment before catching. The raiders piled on, abandoning the fight entirely as they slammed the doors shut. The massive container truck rumbled forward, clearing the path for the bus as it sped away from the bridge, the raiders' shouts growing faint in the distance.

The scavengers and survivors stood in stunned silence, the echoes of the departing vehicles fading into the background. For a brief moment, relief washed over them. The raiders were gone.

"Holy shit," Brad muttered, dropping his crowbar. "They actually bailed."

"We scared them off," Jordan said, his voice shaky but triumphant. "I mean... Trev scared them off."

Chloe, still gripping the empty pistol she'd used on the raider leader, exhaled sharply. "Yeah, but we've got bigger problems now."

The howls continued, closer now, their dreadful harmony growing louder with each passing second. The horde was coming fast.

"Everyone, to the trucks!" Garrett shouted, his voice cutting through the tension like a whip. "Load up and move out!"

The group sprang into action, rushing toward the vehicles parked near the bridge. The scavengers and survivors scrambled to throw what they could into the truck beds, their movements hurried and chaotic. Jean leaned heavily on Akira, his back still bleeding from the machete wound.

"Come on," Akira urged, practically dragging him. "We've gotta go!"

They piled into the trucks, their hearts pounding as Garrett climbed into the cab of the lead vehicle and turned the key. The engine coughed but sputtered to life.

"Thank God," Garrett muttered, but his relief was short-lived. A pungent smell wafted through the air, sharp and acrid.

"What the fuck is that smell?" Brad asked, sniffing the air.

Garrett stepped out of the truck, his boots crunching on the gravel. He crouched down and swore loudly. "Shit! The fuel tanks—"

"What about the tanks?" Chloe asked, panic rising in her voice.

"They're fucking leaking," Garrett snapped, slamming his fist against the truck's side. "Probably took hits during the firefight."

One by one, the realization set in. Every truck had a fuel tank punctured by stray bullets. The precious diesel had drained out, leaving them with no means to drive.

"We're screwed," Blake said, his voice hollow. "We're so screwed."

"What do we do now?" Evan asked, looking from face to face. "We can't outrun the horde on foot!"

Garrett turned to the group, his expression hard. "We don't have a choice. If we leave the loot, the town starves. And if the town starves, we're done for anyway."

"So we carry it," Jean said, wincing as he stood upright with Akira's help. "One mile isn't that far."

"Not that far?" Brittany shouted, her eyes wide. "With the horde breathing down our necks?"

"Better than dying here," Garrett growled. "Get moving. Everyone takes a load. Even you kids."

The survivors, still shaken but understanding the stakes, began grabbing what they could carry. Boxes of canned food, containers of medicine, and salvaged tools were divided among them. The teens joined in, their exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the face of sheer necessity.