The Petrol Hunt

Jezza hung up the receiver and leaned against the inside of the phone box, wiping sweat from his brow. He scanned the street - nothing. No shambling corpses, no eerie groans. Just the distant hush of an empty world.  

He stepped out cautiously, eyes darting left and right before making his way to the van. Another quick glance for unwanted company, then he climbed inside, pulling the passenger door shut with a firm click.  

A voice came from the back of the transit.  

"So, what did Del say then?"  

It was Hamster, his sharp gaze peering out from beneath a well-worn flat cap.  

Jezza exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's gutted. Raquel didn’t make it. Came back as one of them." He hesitated. "I didn’t mention Sabine putting her down."  

Hamster gave a slow nod, then asked, "And the gun? The petrol?"  

Jezza grimaced. "The shotgun you found in the caravan - that was the gun." He let that sink in before continuing. "As for the petrol… we can still have it. But there’s a catch."  

Hamster raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"  

"Del hid it. We have to find it."  

"Where?" Sabine chimed in from the driver's seat.  

Jezza sighed. "St. Barnabas' graveyard. Barstock."  

Hamster frowned. "A bloody graveyard? Why there?"  

From the very back of the van, Freddie’s voice cut in. "Makes sense. When the gravediggers went on strike, churches turned into makeshift morgues. When the dead got back up, those places became no-go zones."  

A silence settled over them, thick with the weight of what lay ahead.  

Sabine cracked her knuckles. "So… we doing this?"  

Jezza met her gaze, then simply nodded.

Jezza caught sight of St. Barnabas’ through the misted-up windshield.  

“There it is. Kill the engine and let it roll.”  

Sabine lifted her foot off the gas, letting the van drift silently forward before easing it to a stop where Jezza pointed.  

“No point in announcing ourselves,” he murmured.  

Sabine scanned the graveyard’s overgrown perimeter. “Any clue where this petrol’s supposed to be?”  

Jezza exhaled. “Del just said it’d be ‘easy to find.’ Whatever that means.”  

Hamster gestured with his pistol. “Could be in that shed. Or maybe that bin by the door. Worst case? It’s buried somewhere among the graves.”  

From the back of the van, Freddie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We got movement. Couple of shamblers by the entrance.”  

Jezza squinted, then stiffened. “They’re not shamblers…” His grip tightened on his weapon. “That’s Denzil. And Vicky the Barmaid.”  

Sabine’s eyes flicked to Hamster. They exchanged a knowing look before speaking in unison.  

“It’s a trap.”

Turn 1

Jezza snapped into action. “Get to that abandoned panda car - now! Stay low and keep quiet!”

Keeping a wary eye on Denzil and Vicky the Barmaid as they patrolled, the gang moved swiftly, darting toward the rusting cop car. They crouched behind it, breath steady, waiting.

But they hadn’t been careful enough.

A shout rang out - first Denzil, then Vicky. Within seconds, gunfire cracked through the night, bullets whizzing past.

Before anyone could react, two more figures emerged from behind the church - Rodders and Cassie.

The gunfire and chaos did more than just pin them down.

From the graveyard’s depths, shifting earth and guttural groans signaled the worst.

Long - dormant corpses were waking up.

Turn 2

The gang wasted no time returning fire.

Freddie loosed an arrow, striking Vicky the Barmaid square in the chest. She crumpled without a sound.

Jezza raised his shotgun and let both barrels roar - Denzil barely had time to react before he hit the dirt, lifeless.

Seizing the moment, Sabine sprinted into the graveyard, eyes darting between headstones and scattered debris, searching for anything that might conceal a jerry can.

Meanwhile, Rodders and Cassie hesitated for just a moment - long enough to realize the real threat was creeping up behind them. The undead were closing in.

Determined to take the gang down first, they opened fire.

Hamster let out a sharp cry as a bullet found its mark, blood seeping through his jacket.

Turn 3

Adapting the rule that “Survivors killed by zombies become nasty zombies,” the gang quickly realized that Denzil and Vicky the Barmaid weren’t staying down. Instead, they reanimated as hulking, grotesque undead - far more dangerous than the shamblers.

Jezza wasted no time. “Move! While they’re distracted!”

Using the newly risen ‘nasty’ zombies as cover, the gang broke from their hiding spot, sprinting to join Sabine in the search for the missing petrol.

Sabine thought she had it - her fingers tore at the wrappings of a hidden bundle—but instead of a fuel can, a pistol glinted in the moonlight. Without hesitation, she tucked it into her belt and kept moving.

Meanwhile, Hamster took a moment to tend to his wound, tightening a makeshift bandage around the bleeding gash.

Rodders and Cassie found themselves in a dire predicament. Their fallen allies were now monstrous threats, shambling toward them with unnatural speed.

They hesitated, torn between pursuing Jezza’s gang or dealing with the immediate horror in front of them.

Survival won out.

Without another word, they turned and bolted, taking cover behind the abandoned police car.

Turn 3

Sabine and Hamster spotted another promising hiding place for the petrol and wasted no time, dashing off to investigate. Meanwhile, Jezza and Freddie held their ground, keeping watch over their flank.

Behind the abandoned police car, Rodders and Cassie exchanged a quick glance. They had to act fast.

"Split up," Rodders muttered. "I'll go after Jezza’s lot - might pull some of them away from you."

Cassie gave a sharp nod, but luck wasn’t on her side.

As Rodders took off, several zombies remained fixated on her, shambling closer and cutting off any escape.

She was trapped.

Turn 4

Sabine rifled through another potential hiding spot, her fingers brushing against something solid. But even before unwrapping it, she knew - it wasn’t a petrol can. Carefully peeling back the cloth, she revealed an old Army rifle.

"Dibs," she muttered, slinging it over her shoulder without hesitation.

Their luck was running out.

Now fully exposed to the zombie spawning point, the gang had become the center of attention. More undead began shambling their way. Jezza and Freddie did their best to thin the horde, picking off zombies with well-placed shots.

Across the graveyard, Cassie remained trapped. A cluster of zombies lunged at her, but luck - or desperation - kept her just out of reach.

Rodders, determined to chase down Jezza’s group, sprinted after them, firing off a few hopeful shots.

It was a mistake.

The gunfire echoed through the night, and more zombies turned their rotting heads toward him.

Rodders had just made himself their next target.

Turn 5

With everyone now properly armed, the gang formed a firing line and unleashed a volley of shots, steadily cutting down the approaching undead.

Rodders turned to face the advancing horde, raising his pistol. He squeezed the trigger.

Click. Click.

Empty.

A moment of silence, then a collective nod of agreement - we decided that Rodders was better off legging it. Without hesitation, so he turned and bolted into the night.

Meanwhile, the zombies closing in on Cassie finally struck. Instead of tearing her apart, they merely shoved her backward. For added drama, they sent her stumbling through the open door of the abandoned police car, tumbling out the other side.

It wasn’t pretty, but she was still in the fight.

Turn 6

With the last of the zombies dealt with, Hamster took the chance to search the bin near the front of the church. A quick rummage later, he pulled out a wrapped package. Peeling it open, he found another pistol.

Grinning, he slipped it into his coat pocket. Just weeks ago, all he had was his granddad’s old WWII sidearm - now he was packing two pistols, a shotgun, and a stash of medical supplies. Not bad for the apocalypse.

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang sprinted to the stone wall, regrouping before turning their attention to the nearby shed.

Cassie, having been unceremoniously shoved through the police car, took a moment to gather herself. She dusted off her jacket, steadied her breath, and assessed the situation.

Jezza and his crew were behind her. A swarm of zombies blocked her way forward.

No contest.

Cassie made the only smart move - she turned and made a tactical retreat.

Turn 7

Jezza hurried over to the shed and began searching, his hands moving quickly through the clutter. A faint clink caught his attention, and he smirked - had he found the petrol at last?

Lifting the object into the dim light, his excitement faded.

Not a fuel can.

A petrol bomb. (AKA a Molotov cocktail).

Could be useful. Could also bring a whole lot of unwanted attention.

Before he could dwell on it, movement in the distance drew his eye. The zombies near the police car had turned their decaying heads and were now shambling toward the shed.

The gang tensed.

They were surrounded.

Turn 8

Freddie raised his bow, ready to fire - only to find his quiver empty. He cursed under his breath.

Jezza didn’t hesitate. “Forget it! Get to the van and start the engine - now!”

Freddie didn’t need telling twice. He turned and sprinted.

Meanwhile, Hamster fell back, spinning on his heels to face the advancing undead. He leveled his shotgun, took a breath, and pulled the trigger. The blast tore through the horde, sending four zombies crashing to the ground.

Sabine shouldered her newly acquired rifle and fired - only to miss. She grit her teeth, but before she could try again, Jezza’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Back to the van! Move!”

But Jezza had his own problem.

Two zombies were already on him, their rotting hands reaching out.

For now, luck was on his side—they were too slow, too sluggish.

But next turn?

He might not be so lucky.

Turn 9

With Sabine and Hamster making a break for the van, Jezza was left to fend for himself.  

He weighed his options - stand and fight or turn tail and run. Survival won out.  

Risking it, he bolted, knowing full well the two zombies in base-to-base contact would get free attacks as he fled.  

The first zombie struck. A brutal hit - rolling a 6.  

Jezza gritted his teeth and rolled for his Grit check. A 6. He shook it off like it was nothing.  

The second zombie lashed out. Another 6.  

Jezza rolled again. Another 6. Unscathed.  

Not one to test his luck further, he sprinted to the van, diving inside to safety. 

The night’s haul? Two pistols, a rifle, and a petrol bomb - some of which could be traded later for much-needed food and fuel.  

More importantly, all four survivors made it out alive, earning them a total of seven rerolls for the next game.  

The real takeaway?  

Del hadn’t just been bitter - he wanted blood.  

This session also marked the first time gang members were used as opponents alongside the zombies, adding an unexpected and deadly twist to the game.