-------------Back to Fleur's Perspective----------
"AAAAAAA"
My scream echoed in a distance whilst rapidly driving alongside the roads, colliding against some sort of twigs and benches which were crumpled around the streets. I tossed and turned, heading west, south, and circled my way for a grand asphalt escape.
I was sincerely driven aback, LOL the pun, by the massive horde sprinting from behind. It was similar to the whole population of a small neighbourhood, marching around, protesting, how bad the government was; but this time, it was zombies chasing for my life. They had nothing to do other than pursue a random citizen around, even against an automobile that runs roughly around 40-60 km/h. I even looked back from the side mirror of the car and observe the whole crowd for myself, and girl how I'd regretted them a lot. Alongside the swarming zombies, an additional force had arrived and their mission was to subdue the life out of me; it was the other way around! Rabid dogs and cats running at all fours whilst chasing my van. Their speed was more likely similar to mine. It was a battle of their stamina and my gas tank inside. Speaking of which, my gas gauge is currently drying up at around, in between, E and F. If this bad boy runs out of juice before they do, I'd bet that I won't get to see that beautiful sun for tomorrow's view. But, fear not! For I have a plan, sort of.
I needed to ward them off from my amazing drifting capabilities and map awareness of the whole city. They're probably dead inside out, making their brains exploded a long time ago, which puts me in the great advantage of having superior intellectual skills as an individual myself! (Albeit they probably can distinguish instincts like a degenerate warrior themselves).
On the contrary to my plan, which way should I go? I pondered on the thought and stumbled upon wreckage up ahead. Cars that had crashed violently enough to produce a fire, trucks which was surprisingly lying around alongside the debris, and lamp posts and such was brought down like lumber who had been chopped by a woodcutter itself.
My mind paused for a brief moment and wondered WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I DO NOW? If you put it this way, I hadn't mind at all where the hell I was going against the flooded zombies from behind; and apparently, I was at the top of a bridge called "Auckland Harbour" way passed both my destinations: the Prime Harbour and the Cathedral itself. Way way way past them, so it seems.
I tucked my seat belts in and gripped the wheel, as I steeled myself for an impact against the bombarded barricades laid on the bridge.
My car flew ahead as it tripped over the small debris and managed to shift over the centrifugal force, sliding it sideways unto the verge of the bridge.
There I was, closing my eyes, scared from the scene. My whole body felt the exhilarating pain from the impact and was left immobile for some time. As soon as I opened my eyes, my body was facing still at the driver's seat, but parallel to the open sea.
The back window of the car had been shattered by the metallic bars from the crash and was left open, inviting me to my carnage of death.
I struggled my way but to no avail. The safety belts which I had prepared earlier was turning its back against me, making it very difficult to unlatch my entangled waist from my seat.
"Move…it" Out of desperation, I tried cutting the leathered belt with my bare teeth. Gnawing it, much like from the zombies I had watched from yesterday's events. My efforts had been futile as it seems, as I vaguely heard the alarming march of the horde who was, later on, able to trail my awful desolation.
Roars of thunder reverberates from a distance and the sound itself had ticked my death to its last drop. I couldn't believe my fate that my life would be in shambles and would be defeated by my worst luck of being tightly tied from my seatbelt.
But, I
I WILL NEVER GIVE UP!
I grabbed unto my bag and reached out for whatever items I could use during these crucial times.
Frying pan? Like hell, this will do me good.
Can goods? I'm NOT FREEAKING HUNGRY.
And there it was, a metallic fork which was sharpened enough to be an improvised scissor. With all my remaining strength in hand, I saw the leather belt and prayed for its success.
Once
Twice
Thrice
I was cutting endlessly, forcing the little bars of the fork to penetrate the thick skin of the stupid belt.
*Zip*
After numerous fruitless attempts, I had finally shredded the leathered belt and broke free amidst from the strain of the leathered belt. I grabbed the three nearly empty bags and tossed them to the surface, as I struggled myself on to the metallic plank which supported me from the car and the bridge itself.
The zombies awhile back had managed to catch up and were in sight from about 20 metres away, still running rampant as ever.
"Shit shit shit, I need to go!" My whole nerve tickled as if warning me to MOVE my arse away from the sight. I thoroughly searched my surroundings and saw a bike laid flat on the ground.
The bike itself was forgotten, furthermore unscratched, and had gasoline's left to spare for another 2 kilometres ride. Whoever left this bike had massive issues about him or her panicking along the way, and the convenience of having a motor bicycle in the middle of the road had left me speechless for the sudden turn of events.
"THANK YOU, MAMA MIA" I proudly praised the (dead) owner of the bike, as I pulled myself and carried alongside the valuables (three bags) which were now resting on my knees.
"Wait, where are the keys?" Damn. Suddenly, I remembered that these motorcycles require some sort of keys which wa--
You know what
Nevermind, the keys were still latched on the keyhole, left by the owner itself. Couldn't ask for more, my beloved luck.
I step on the pedal and had managed to, once again, secure the distance from the ravaging zombies at my rear.
As I ventured forth towards the north, I saw a wooden wall armed with spikes and massive artilleries, with our flag-waving high above my reach.
"HALT" 2 military men and a woman had emerged from the wall and aimed their rifles towards my direction. The man who had shouted had climbed down the stairs and slowly walked towards my direction, still armed and wary about the mysterious individual (me).
"I bring no harm. I am but a humble individual." I said, as I threw the three bags and raised my arms.
"Yeah, much like those freak shows had said. Were you bitten?" he asks from a distance. It was neither a shout nor a whisper. It was just his usual voice which was just louder like your average military man.
"A hickey? No. I have no boyfriend, sir… yet. But, if you're talking about those guys, then, my answer is a big NO." I kid around and hoped for the best. My humour was exquisite during the past few weeks.
"You're quite a talkative one, aren't you kid?" looking up to him up close, I could see the borrowed eye bags sunken beneath his eyes. He also has this thick tobacco on his mouth, which he, later on, threw it aside.
He switched his angles and aimed from my side, as he fired far back south amidst from our 'thorough' conversation.
I weird cry was heard from a distance, followed by the roar of the… you know, zombies which had magically appeared and trailed my tail.
"Kid, you know how to shoot?" He throws down a magnum and gave me a sneer.
"No. But I'll manage. Is it okay though? Giving a random stranger your gun?"
"Bah. Americans have all the guns in the world. And I ain't lending that for free. We'll talk as soon as we finish off those weirdoes out there" He turns his back away from me, away from the crowd of zombies
C O O L.
He's like your old grampa from a famous zombie game played in your PC's, but real life!
"Yes!" I responded and positioned myself inside the wooden barrier.
6 military personnel, 4 men and 2 women combined, wards off the massive horde from the bridge (These are the zombies who had followed me from the other side).
"I saw a car riding off the highway with great amount speed, mate. I thought you're dead!" a random dude said from the left side of the flank. He was either complementing why I was still alive or ridiculing my mistake for crossing paths from the old' bridge.
"HAHA~ well, you know what they say. 'Just popping to the-'"
"Dairy?" A woman in fatigue finishes my sentence, whilst flashing a smile on her face.
"Y-yeah" I awkwardly chuckled back.
They were doing a great job holding off the forces of the undead. The artilleries that I had mentioned before were an M777 Howitzer which packs a punch against a massive number of enemies on the field. I do hope that the bridge would hold against these massive amounts of firearms readied at our disposal.
Finally, after 20 minutes, the onslaught had ended and the military personnel's all returned from their usual fort, with their scopes and snipers ready to scout.
"I've got a lot of questions to ask, kiddo." The man, who had previously saved me, approached my front and chuckled once again, this time it was… something sinister on his behalf. I think it was just my imaginations though. He looks like a good man. A good father may be.
"Welcome! I'm the first battalion, Vice Commander, and a proud member of the 'Imperial Division of New Zealand Artillery'. The name's Paul Rider." He offers his hand and chuckles for the last time.
He loves laughing in between lines, damn it.