Zombie Exodus: Aftermath, Scene 3

Continued from Scene 2 

“Fine. I’ll wake everyone up, while you get dressed and ready. But dammit, hurry,” you say to Jesse.

She gives you that same cutesy smile she always does when she gets her way and then unzips her backpack. You don’t waste any time watching her but instead run over to the first snoring body you see. How are these people not awake? You yank back the covers and see Cameron. He’s tall and thin with a mop of brown hair down to his shoulders. He’s shirtless which shows a patchwork of hard skin from scarring. He still wears his uniform trousers and only one sock.

“Cameron, get the hell up,” you say and smack him in the face. He waves his hand at you and rolls to his side. A mug of liquid sits on a shelf above him. You take away from it – Moonshine. You toss it on his face, and he gasps for a moment and sits up in bed.

“What the hell?” His head cocks to the side like a dog hearing a siren. “Are those gunshots?”

Jesse appears in the doorway of her bedroom. “Cameron, get your butt together. Three minutes and we’re out of here.”

You step to the next bed and see Portland’s head sticking out from a pile of clothes. When you lean over to wake her, her eyes pop open, startling you.

“I’m up, I’m up. How am I supposed to sleep with all this racket?” she says with a smile. As she sits up you can see she’s topless, but she pulls up a flannel shirt to cover herself. Her dirty blond hair hangs in long strings. A piece of pepperoni sticks to the side of her neck. Despite the fact that she probably hasn’t bathed in days, she still looks hot. You’ve always thought she’s beautiful. Everyone does. Jesse always joked how Portland would have been a model back in the time before the outbreak. She’d be flying from New York to LA to Paris, modeling clothing for rich brands. She’d be famous like that one family that started with the K. It’s hard to remember names anymore.

The trailer shakes, and Portland falls onto the floor. You tumble sideways and slam into the side wall. A rack of VHS tapes clatter to the floor. More gunfire. Something crashes through a back window.

Jesse runs toward you, hopping over a table that flipped over. “We’re out of here. Cameron, move that ass. Portland, this ain’t no joke. The Reds are just outside.”

“I’m not even dressed—“

“Ain’t nobody wants to see them itty bitty titties, girl. They want to shoot you in the head.” Jesse presses a finger into Portland’s forehead. When the young woman stares back at her through huge, green eyes, Jesse grabs a hoodie and throws it over her head.

“I can dress myself.”

“Then do it,” Jesse shouts and runs to the door. She opens it a crack and peers through the opening. You pop next to her. Tempest Point defenders stand in a column firing at the top Reds. There’s a narrow path leading to a side gate. This may be your only chance.

“Everyone, follow me,” you shout. They all fall in line behind you, and you hike up your to-go bag across your shoulders. Stepping from the trailer, you can see the devastation made by the Reds. Tents are on fire. A burning husk stands where the canteen used to be. Dead lie all around you. Plumes of smoke rise from the north end of camp. What took years to build is coming down in minutes.

You rush towards the side gate and duck under a wooden pole that fell over and formed a triangle with a trailer. Skirting around a dumpster, you hear the light patter of rain hitting the metal top. Ahead of you stands a defender with a rifle poised on his shoulder, and he’s blocking the way out. As you move closer, he points the barrel towards you and then swings it away. It’s Butler. You’ve known him for a while, though you wouldn’t call him a friend. He is one of the better defenders here and doesn’t take his position too seriously. 

Continue to scene 4