Ch 8: The Air Cannon

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Nicky's footsteps headed the other way, toward the gate, while Jax and Wren tried to keep up with me. Any zombies I could see were ignoring the animals and focusing on something else. Through the fence, I could finally see past all the buildings and make out dozens of people running toward the open gate.

Behind them, at least fifty zombies were giving chase with three moving much faster than the others. I stared in disbelief at the horde—where had they come from?—as I finally rounded the fence, still running at my top speed.

My heart sank as I realized the faster zombies were ahead of half of the humans. The guards would be forced to close the gate and lock out at least twenty of their friends. Gunfire began piercing the air as the guards tried to slow the same zombies I was worried about.

I drew my bow and released an arrow when I got a clear shot. The zombie staggered at the exact same second, and the arrow whizzed by its head, making a human farther back jump as it came within fifteen feet of them.

With a snarl, I released two more arrows, trying to aim while watching my footing. One struck a zombie's head, but skimmed over the skull, leaving a bloody furrow but no serious damage. The other struck its throat, and it stopped to retaliate against the "attacking" arrow.

Why couldn't these zombies run in a straight line without bobbing around? Giving up on a headshot at this distance, I aimed for another zombie's chest. As I halfway expected, the zombie ignored the arrow and its wound, still focused on whichever human it was chasing. I wasn't sure which zombie was the screamer, and I wanted to silence that one as soon as possible.

I fired my remaining arrows at the three closest zombies as fast as I could, guaranteeing that at least some would hit. Two of the zombies went down with head wounds, although the third staggered onward with several arrows grotesquely sticking out of its lower face and neck. More gunfire rang out, and its body jerked from the impact of the bullets striking its chest, with one grazing the side of its head.

Since I was out of arrows, I drew my grain sickle from the sheath hidden under the back of my shirt. The razor-sharp, curved blade glinted in the light maliciously. It had been years since it had last drawn blood, but there were too many zombies for me to play nice or care about blood spatter.

Arrows began flying overhead, aimed at the zombies farther out as the locals tried to delay the main horde. Jax and Wren were running to intercept the wave of zombies, some of whom were also faster than the slowest humans. The gunfire ceased; the guards either worried about friendly fire or conserving limited ammo.

One of the humans tripped, and the wounded zombie switched targets. Despite the distance between them, its arms reached out as the woman struggled to her feet and began limping away. Her friends' attempts to lure the zombie away went unheeded, even when one came up behind it and whacked it with a slender tree branch.

I focused on the zombie, ignoring the others for now. The woman was limping away as fast as she could, but the zombie was moving faster. Thankfully, I was much faster than either of them, and I'd reach it before it caught up to her.

My feet flew over the sheep-trimmed grass as I finally got closer. I recognized it as the one I'd locked in the backyard in town. How had she gotten out? The zombie's head turned toward me, my speed catching her attention much like last time.

Her body swiveled to face me as her mouth opened to issue an ear-splitting screech. I winced at the sound. Apparently she could scream if she wanted to. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed the zombies Jax had previously distracted were now focused on me.

This could actually work to my advantage. But first, I had to silence the screamer before she could call in more zombies or mess up my plans.

My direct charge didn't seem to dissuade her as she ran toward me, somehow not noticing a couple of humans who quickly changed direction to avoid her. When I bared my teeth in a silent snarl, her footsteps faltered, and her gaze began to stray to the humans.

But she was too late. As I ran past her, my sickle lashed out at her neck. The blade grated on her spine as I held onto the handle with a firm grip, twisting it so it could find a joint. The resistance suddenly gave way as my sickle slid between two vertebrae and sliced through the rest of her neck like tissue paper.

I didn't slow down as her head and body dropped to the ground. There were more zombies to be dealt with, although the humans were currently safe since most of the horde was chasing me. I angled my path to the side to get clear of the humans and give them a chance to escape.

Jax had just tackled a Runner, and his target wasn't going down without a fight. Wren wasn't as fast, and still en route. More than a few zombies had arrows sticking out of them, and a couple had collapsed on the ground, courtesy of a lucky eyeshot.

The zombies were veering in my direction, and I slowed down to a jog so they didn't decide to go after easier prey. I quickly debated my options and decided to lure them into the canal. It was the easiest route and would be the fastest way to get them away from the humans.

I still didn't see any horseback riders, and I hoped the silly nags hadn't carried their passengers into town or past more zombies. As it was, it was going to take the locals at least a couple of days to round up all of their livestock.

A deep screech from behind made me whirl around. Surely there couldn't be a second screamer...but the zombies turning back were proof that there was another unranked feral somewhere in the ranks.

Jax was still wrestling with the Runner, so I called out to Wren, "Which zombie is the screamer?"

"I don't know!" she replied as she shoulder-checked a regular zombie, knocking it off its feet. She wasn't strong enough to kill them, but her tactics could buy us some time.

A strange whizzing sound heralded the arrival of a rock that landed in the middle of the spread-out zombie group, missing all of the potential targets. Nicky had apparently joined the fight, but her "help" just made me leery of aerial attacks, which wasn't normally something I had to watch for when fighting feral zombies.

This time, the zombies didn't focus on one target; instead, they formed a tighter group before looking around for prey. At least the humans were ahead of them this time. I was already racing ahead to intercept them as they began chasing the handful of humans disappearing through the gates. Arrows continued to rain onto the horde without causing any serious damage.

I leaned over to scoop a rock off the ground and whipped it at the fastest zombie, who staggered to a stop and looked around with a growl. Wren was still knocking them over, and Jax had finally subdued the Runner and was fighting another zombie. I had no idea why he kept trying to snap its neck since that would only slow a zombie down. He really needed proper training.

"Jax! Use the hilt of your belt knife to knock them out!" I shouted, promptly slamming the wooden handle of the sickle into the back of a zombie's head as an example. The skull crackled like thick ice as my strength left an egg-sized dent. Jax's strength should be able to manage similar strikes, and if nothing else, it would definitely distract the zombies.

Using my own advice, I drew my belt knife and darted between zombies while striking out with the heavy hilts. Jax managed to disengage and lunged back in to land a solid blow on the zombie's head. As it slumped to the ground with a dent in its head, he shot me a triumphant grin and ran to the nearest zombie to replicate the feat.

The gate finally slammed closed with a heavy thud. The humans were safe.

Wren continued knocking the zombies over while Jax and I sent the arrow-riddled zombies for a much-needed nap. I kept scanning the group to locate the second unranked feral. I could smell him, but all of the zombies acted like regular zombies. We would have to knock them all out.

Only a handful of zombies were left when Jax snarled in pain. I spun around as he staggered to a stop with an arrow sticking out of his thigh.



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