Voyage of the Dead - Book One Sovereign Spirit Saga Read Online Free Page B

started the engine.  The headlights came on automatically and every fiend in the area charged towards him.  He dropped the gear shift into drive and hit the gas, knocking zombies out the way as the ambulance ripped off the taxi’s front bumper and fishtailed out of the parking lot onto Sepulveda Boulevard.     
     
    He turned north at first, but there was a major pileup at the intersection with Lincoln, so he made a quick U-turn that almost rolled the ambulance over and sped south, back towards LAX.  The zombies – yes he decided to call them zombies – that had chased him out of the urgent care parking lot filled the street.  Carl just closed his eyes and stepped on the gas as he plowed through them.  The ambulance lurched and started making unusual sounds, but it kept running.  Carl accelerated past the turnoff for the LAX terminals and rental car returns before he realized that he was heading for the tunnel that crossed below the runways.
     
     Carl hesitated and started to lift his foot off the gas, but more zombies were pouring onto the street from every direction.  He really didn’t have much choice but to press on into the tunnel.  He swerved to avoid a wrecked Volkswagen that seemed to have imploded when it hit a zombie.  Then he saw them.  Dozens of zombies were swarming around a shuttle bus that had crashed into the tunnel wall behind the little Volkswagen.  Perhaps the maniacs were trying to reach other uninfected people trapped inside.  Carl didn’t have time to worry about their fate.  There was just enough room for the ambulance to pass the wreck, but the gap was full of zombies.
     
    Once again Carl stepped down on the gas and aimed for the zombies.  This time his path of travel was so tight that he was afraid to close his eyes, so he saw all the details of the impacts, especially the one that drove the head of a zombie through the center of his windshield.   Carl kept accelerating as the ghoul in front of his face flapped its broken arms outside the windshield.  Jaws snapped open and closed inside the tatters of a nightmarish face that was lodged mere inches from Carl’s hands which were clenched to the steering wheel. 
     
    Carl swallowed the bile rising in his throat and leaned away from the grotesquely animated zombie head as he struggled to maneuver the battered ambulance through the remainder of the tunnel.  It was a terrifying gauntlet, full of more impacts with uncaring bodies, but there was light at the end of the tunnel.  As soon as he emerged into the pale glow of dawn and left the crowd of zombies behind, Carl stopped the ambulance, opened the door and puked.  
     
     While he was bent out of the door he noticed a multipurpose fireman’s tool strapped next to his seat.  Without much thought he reached down to retrieve it.  There was a small axe head and opposing pick spike on one end and a curved pry-bar on the other end.   It was solid steel and felt good in his hand.  Carl looked back at the flailing zombie in the windshield and made a decision.  He raised the tool with the spike forward and drove its point into the top of the zombie’s head, producing a satisfying crunch.  The body stopped moving immediately.  Carl found himself grinning stupidly as he pulled the spike out of the skull and raised his foot to push the now truly dead zombie back out of the windshield.  The ambulance was shaking and grinding as Carl shifted it back into gear and started driving south. 
     
     It was then that Carl realized that a radio had turned on when he started the ambulance.  It was tuned to the fire department band which told its own story of disaster.
     
    “All units, be advised of reports of unexplained violence at Harbor UCLA, Saint John’s, MLK and Rampart hospitals.  Dispatch does not recommend transport of any patients to any hospital at this time.  Treat any injuries in the field and hold in place for instructions.”
     
    “Ladder 41?  Squads 16, 27,