Road Trip

Chapter 8

Tilly clenched her fists. "But I want to help!"
Sally's face stayed stormy. "And you can do that by making sure everyone is safe. Go."
"But-" Tilly started.
"I said go."

Sally turned to Poppy and Wolfe, who's faces were ashen with horror. "Give out some of those weapons from your van, there's a shelter full of things that can be used when you run out."

Poppy and Wolfe nodded solemnly, and sprinted over to their van, but as Poppy hauled open the bed, Wolfe clambered into the front, clicking the keys into the ignition.

Poppy stared at him, astonished. "What are you doing?"
"It's too dangerous, we need to go!" Wolfe shook his head, thinning his lips.
"We need to help! They need us!" Poppy's grip on her bat tightened, her other hand still propping up the lid of the bed.
Wolfe's face softened, but he shook his head again. "If anything happens to us, there'll be no one to take The Tea to the lab. Besides, you can't fight with that arm."
Poppy pursed her lips. "Well I don't know about you, but I can't let all these people die knowing we did nothing about it."

She pulled a blanket off the bed and laid it out on the floor. She pulled out the weapons from under the bed and dumped them out on top of the blanket. She pulled up each corner of it into a makeshift bag and slammed the bed down.
"I'm sorry Wolfe, but my family's out there."

She stormed out, stopping briefly to stare pleadingly at Wolfe, but slamming the van door behind her.

Wolfe watched in resignation as Poppy handed out knifes, bats and planks of wood, until there was nothing left except her bat. She sprinted towards the oncoming hoard, raising it bravely.

His own hand curled absentmindedly on the haft of his hammer as she watched Poppy slam into the first of the uncountable zombies. David was also doing his part, clutching his gun and shooting any zombie that came his way.

It was chaotic, horrific and somewhat poetic. Every adult in the camp had taken a weapon, but after one wave of zombies was defeated, the next would come, bigger and stronger than before.

A sharp scream pierced the air, lost amongst the thunder of the battle. But Wolfe heard it, and he saw its source.

A tiny, ebony skinned girl with dark, frightened eyes could be seen amidst the fight. Her hands clutched at the air as she ran through the chaos, calling out in a piercing voice. "Mummy!"

Wolfe snapped immediately. Pushing open the van door with a swift kick, he swung his hammer over his shoulder. He broke into a strong sprint until he neared the first zombie.

He brought his hammer round in a thunderous swing, slamming it into the zombie and neatly decapitating it. The next was greeted with a similar attack as Wolfe whirled his hammer over his head, clobbering it down onto the zombie with such force that the zombie almost crumbled into itself, collapsing into a mess on the floor.

He niftily dodged the next zombie and smashed the next one until he reached the tiny, terrified girl. She couldn't have been more than three years old and it was a miracle none of the walkers had taken her yet. He scooped her up into his arms, hammer raised in one hand.

"It's ok." He murmured to her as he hit yet another zombie with a powerful roundhouse swing. "I'm here. You're safe now."

Pushing his way back towards the camp, he dodged, blocked and killed several more zombies.

"Olivia!" Came a desperate shout from camp. "Olivia where are you?!"
The child in Wolfe's arms gave a joyful cry. "Mummy!"

Wolfe immediately began to make a beeline for the woman.

A zombie that was only a withered torso, arms and head began to crawl his way, and he brought his hammer firmly down on its head, ignoring the screams of terror from Olivia.

At last he reached the woman and handed over her wriggling child.
"Thankyou!" She sobbed, clutching Olivia. "Thankyou so much!"

Wolfe gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Take her to the schoolhouse, she'll be safe there." Before turning towards the battle.

Poppy was beginning to struggle. She was covered in mud and blood and her arm was beginning to weaken after swinging her bat over and over. There was a bruise on her left temple where a zombie had almost got her, and her sling was loosening by the minute. Her hits had much less power in them when they were one handed, and she found she needed two or three shots at a walker before it would lifelessly slump to the ground.

The next few second seemed to happen in slow motion. Her sling fluttered to the ground as the knot finally slipped apart. She attempted to bludgeon her advancing attacker, but her strength was now focused on holding her wounded arm up. Her defence made very little difference and as she stepped backwards, she stumbled to the ground, treading her sling into the mud. She tried to push the walker away with her bat, but it continued to slump towards her, grumbling and moaning.

In a split second, the walker was mashed to a pulp on the floor. Poppy gave a shout of victory, before wincing as her arm twinged. "I knew you wouldn't stay away!"
"Well you know me." Wolfe shrugged as he swatted away another zombie with his hammer. "Never can stay away from a good fight."

Wolfe put down his hammer and helped up Poppy gently. He kissed her on the cheek and tied up her sling. "Be careful. Go back to the van if you need to."
Poppy shook her head. "I won't need to," she smiled. "Now that you've got my back."
Wolfe smiled back before swinging at yet another zombie.

Meanwhile, David was shooting at every zombie that came his way. Despite his mishap with poppy, his aim was almost flawless and he hit every zombie. Lucky for him, zombies needed their brains perfectly intact to survive, so a good headshot was enough to bring one to the ground, and very few bullets were wasted, but the next zombie caused him to freeze, clutching the Winchester Rifle in his shaky hands.

It was a tall, skinny woman, with most of her clothes torn away to reveal a rotting ribcage. One side of her face had peeled away and her skull was empty, except for her bloody, pulsing brain that was showing through a crack in her skull. Nevertheless, the other side of her face was almost perfectly intact, with coffee coloured skin, long, matted hair and thick eyebrows.

David's finger remained on the trigger, but he did not pull it. His eyes were locked on the slumped, rotting zombie. He whispered, a voice so quiet that only he could hear how much it was shaking.
"Mum?"