Chapter 25 #2
The two security guys follow her orders, throwing more Molotov cocktails into the night. More fires burst into existence, drawing more and more zombie attention with each new fire. The only downside is the thick stench of burning rotting flesh, smoke, and petrol that clogs the air.
I grab a few bottles, wanting to set my own fires. While my throws aren’t as far as the others, they’re decently far away from the gate and the car that I’m not worried. Even Alex has a try, and his throws turn out to be pretty decent. Much better than mine.
“Told you you’d be perfect for this!” Ollie tells him with a laugh that warms my soul.
I grin at her and place a bottle with a rag ready to be lit in her hands. “Here. You have a try; it’s fun.” I light the rag before she can protest.
She hesitates for a moment before chucking the Molotov as far as she can.
We watch as the flaming bottle arcs through the air before smashing into a group of zombies off to the left.
The fire that erupts from the petrol is spectacular, and both of us cheer as more zombies head away from the car and gate.
Alex shakes his head at our antics. “There really is something wrong with you two.”
“You’re just jealous that my fire was better than yours,” Ollie says and sticks her tongue out at him.
His gaze darkens. “Remember what I said before; don’t stick that out unless you plan on using it.”
Rhys watches their interaction with a soft smile on his face and a fond look in his eyes. He’s so fucking gone for Ollie it’s not even funny.
We all turn our attention back to the horde outside the gate.
While there are multiple large fires burning at several points that are drawing most of the horde’s attention, the zombies immediately around the car ignore the fire.
They’re climbing all over the vehicle, groaning and clawing at the windows as they desperately try to get to the people inside.
More cracks appear on the windscreen as more zombies crawl on top of it.
Rhys grimaces. “Shit. We’re going to need more weapons to take those infected out now, or all of this is going to be for nothing.” He turns and hurries to the ladder, only to stutter to a stop.
“Did somebody order more guns?” Rachel cheerfully calls out from the bottom of the ladder with a grin on her face and a rifle in her hands. Beside her, Tobias and her partner Tamsin stand laden with our entire supply of hunting rifles and shotguns.
Rhys curses. “Did you break into the armoury?” he asks as she climbs up the ladder.
She shrugs. “Maybe.” She glances around, her eyes lighting up when she sees the fires and the Molotov cocktails still to be thrown. “Oh shit, you guys were having a party up here. Who’s the pyromaniac?”
Rhys, Alex and I all turn to Ollie.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that bad. This is only the second time I’ve set zombies on fire.”
“That’s two times more than I have, princess,” Rhys says drily before turning his attention to Rachel. “We’ll be discussing you breaking into the armoury later, but first, hand over the weapons. We need these infected dead.”
Rachel leans over the edge and gives Tobias and Tamsin the go-ahead to hand out the weapons. While they do that, Rhys surveys the area with a frown.
“Princess, I need you to use that bow of yours and shoot the infected climbing on the car. Everyone else, aim for the ones around the car that aren’t taking interest in the fire. Prioritise the ones at the front.”
Ollie nods, takes aim and fires, hitting her intended targets with almost eerie precision. Once the rest of us have a weapon in hand, we fire at the zombies surrounding the car. The night fills with the explosion of gunshots and the stench of smoke, gunpowder, and death.
Things are going well. The horde is slowly being whittled down, the windscreen on the car no longer has zombies crawling all over it, and the fires are spreading amongst the horde. This plan of Ollie’s is working perfectly.
Until shit hits the fan.
We don’t notice at first; the sound of gunshots is so loud we can barely hear ourselves think, let alone anything else. It’s only when the zombies change their focus and shuffle towards the gate that alarm bells start ringing.
“The fuck?” Rhys mutters as he lowers his gun and flicks on the safety.
He moves to the edge of the watchtower and glances over it, the frown on his face turning to horror.
“Hold fire!” he bellows, his voice only just loud enough above the din as he races across the tower and throws himself down the ladder.
Alex, Ollie, and I turn in confusion.
“What the hell is going on?” Alex asks as he follows Rhys, only to curse.
It’s then that we hear it.
“We need to let them in! My wife is in there!” a hysterical masculine voice shouts, followed by the unmistakable sound of the gate squeaking and groaning.
The colour drains from my face as cold, hard terror grips my throat and understanding dawns. Whoever that is just opened the gate; the only thing keeping us safe from the horde of monstrous zombies hellbent on making us dinner. And it’s nighttime.
We’re so fucked.