Night of the Nazi Zombies by Michael G. Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

they just abandon the car?”
    Chard spoke to Trent.
    “Go back to the glider and tell the Sarge what we’ve seen and then get back here right away.   We need you to watch our backs, but he needs to know what we’re doing.”
    He nodded in agreement.   Chard continued surveying the area; he was still mystified by the situation with the German vehicles.
    “Come on, let’s take a closer look, we need to know what’s out there.”
    Chard and Harris stepped out into the lane and made their way slowly towards the vehicles.   In a matter of seconds they reached the first trucks.   What surprised them more than the missing men were the scores of dead Germans littering the lane.   From their hiding place they couldn’t see low enough to spot these bodies.  
    “Jesus Christ!” swore Harris.   “What the fuck happened here?”
    “I don’t know,” answered Chard, “look at this one.”
    Harris crept over to Chard, looking down at the bodies.   The one Chard was pointing at looked strange.   Harris couldn’t quite work out what he was being shown.   Chard, with his hand on the man’s arm lifted it up, the limb was clearly not attached to the body.   The black blood of the German soldier dripped out onto the road.   Even worse though was what looked like rips and tears, almost as if an animal had been eating chunks of their flesh.

     
    * * *
     
    Trent moved as quickly as he could across the long grass to reach the glider and the group of paratroopers.    Smith met him as he arrived, waiting for information, “Well, what’s going on?”
    He explained the situation.   Smith did not look impressed.
    “Give me that,” said Smith as he took the binoculars and checked for himself.
    The trucks and armoured car were still in position and one was burning away, filling the sky with black smoke.   As for people, there was no sign of either people running or the firefight.   He lowered them and spoke to the Lieutenant.
    “I don’t like it, Sir.   They may have gone to ground and that means the whole area from here to the bridge could be occupied by them.”
    Harvey thought briefly, “I don’t see we have much of a choice, I suggest we get Johnson and get moving.   If we are smart I’m sure we can get through without trouble.”
    “Sir, I suggest we wait for Chard to get back with more intel, we don’t want to march off until we have something concrete,” Smith replied.
    Harvey considered his suggestion, “Ok.   Right, what is our status?”
    Smith checked his notebook, examining the scrawled notes he’d kept after the battle.
    “We are left with thirteen plus you and me, Sir.   Casualties are twelve dead plus Johnson still in the glider.”
    “Bloody hell!” answered the Lieutenant. “How about injured?   Can they all move?”
    “Yes, Sir.   Johnson is the only seriously wounded, once we have him on the stretcher we can get moving,” offered Smith.
    The men around Smith and the Lieutenant had by now assembled as much equipment as they could realistically carry, including several German submachine guns and a few trophy pistols.  
    One of the paratroopers popped his head out of the glider, “Sir, where is Johnson?” he asked.
    “In the bloody glider,” answered an exasperated Harvey.
    “Nobody in here, Sir,” the soldier repeated.
    Smith was already at the door and climbed back inside the wreckage, Harvey was right behind him.   Looking through the wreckage there was no sign of Johnson, or the dead sappers.   Smith moved up to the cockpit.   He waited there for a moment before turning back to Harvey.
    “They’ve all gone, nothing but blood.”
    “Who?   Why?” asked Harvey, now totally dumbfounded.  
    Chard and Harris appeared through the tree line, having now completed their recce of the German convoy.   Harvey moved forwards, looking for answers. “What did you find, Corporal?”
    “Sir, you’re not going to believe this,” exclaimed Chard.
    Harris nodded, providing