They turned and saw Terrell heading up with a stern look on his face, pushing a cart full of tires.
“Yep, that would be him,” Coleman said.
Miles nodded. “Looks like he came through with the tires, too.”
As the Captain grew closer, the soldiers frowned.
“Where’s…” Miles trailed off. “Where’s Walter?”
Coleman spotted a limp hand hanging off of the car, and his breath caught in his throat. “No.. man…” he croaked. “Just… no.”
Miles gasped at the sight, but before either could greet Terrell, he let go of the cart and drew his rifle, firing several rounds into the men at the car. The bullets pierced their chests, shattering the windshield behind them, sending blood everywhere. He screamed, and whipped around, facing his friends.
Coleman and Miles put their hands up.
“Easy Cap, easy,” Coleman said gently.
Terrell’s heart raced and anger coursed through him still. He finally registered his soldiers, and he let out a deep breath, lowering his gun and heading over to the cart. Without saying a word, he began pushing it up the road towards the trucks.
The soldiers glanced at each other, and then trotted to catch up.
“Terrell,” Coleman broke the silence. “What happened?”
The Captain shoved the cart and whirled around, eyes wild. “What the fuck do you think happened?” he snarled. “They murdered him like a fucking dog!” Chest heaving, he waited for them to say something, but they didn’t know what they could possibly say. “Come on,” Terrell said shortly, “we gotta get back to the trucks. We got people to protect.”
He turned and grabbed the car again, moving at a brisk pace. Coleman and Miles glanced at each other, worried, but all they could do was follow.
When they reached the trucks, Terrell readied his gun, and his soldiers followed suit, getting ready behind him. He crept around the first truck, and then his shoulders sagged. He waved for them to come over, and they did, mouths dry with anticipation.
Terrell holstered his gun. There was nothing there. The ammonium nitrate was gone. He patted the side rail of the truck once, then twice. Then everything he’d had bottled up came out, and he punched the back window. The force was enough to send spiderwebs of cracks through it.
“Cap?” Coleman asked gingerly, as Terrell stood there, hand bleeding, eyes closed, struggling to control his breathing.
“Fix the tire,” he said simply, through his teeth.
“We’ll take care of it, Cap,” Coleman said, motioning to Miles to get the supplies. “You… you just take a minute.”
Terrell nodded and turned, walking down the road a bit.
Miles returned to his partner, face pale. “Is he all right?”
“No, he’s not,” Coleman admitted. “Only seen him like this one other time.”
Miles winced. “And how’d that go?”
Coleman shook his head. “I share a lot of stories from my time overseas,” he said. “But that night… I would be a happy man if I could forget the carnage of that night.” He stared at his friend dead in the eyes. “I really hope you’re a hundred percent with us, Miles, because we’re about to go to war.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Xavier sat in the center of town as the afternoon turned into evening. He stared out, watching the hustle and bustle of his little community. His tranquility was broken when he heard the front gates opening up. He stood as Terrell and the guys rolled in, parking the truck on the edge of the green space in the center of town.
He approached as they got out of the vehicle. “Gentlemen, how did it go?”
Coleman gave him a quick look, and shook his head. Xavier watched them all get out, and his brow furrowed.
“Where’s Walter?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” Coleman replied, clenching his jaw. “He-”
“He was murdered,” Terrell cut in. He was noticeably calmer than he’d been before the ride, but still cold. “He was murdered in cold blood, and they took what we needed to keep this town safe.”
“I…” Xavier stammered. “I don’t understand.”
“Well join the club!” the Captain snarled. “I don’t understand how someone could take the life of that young boy. But I made damn sure that’s the last life they’ll ever take.”
The old man shook his head. “So more violence…”
“Oh, there’s a lot more violence where that came from,” Terrell declared. “We’re not playing defense any longer. From this moment forward, we’re on the offensive. We’re going to hunt them down, and we’re going to end them once and for all.”
“Captain,” Xavier said, voice stern. “May I remind you that there are civilians in their group?”
Terrell whirled on him and yelled, “And there are civilians here!” He waved a hand over his head. “Look around! Look at Ruth and June over there fixing dinner by the fire. Look at Hoyt and those kids patching up that barricade. Do you think they give a fuck about them? Because I know they don’t.” He pointed a finger in Xavier’s face. “You need to get on board with this and get on quick. We’re at war, so if you care about these people, you’re going to let us do what we need to do, civilians be damned. Because if they come here, which they will, you will die knowing you picked their women and children over our own.”
The old man blinked at him. “I can’t abide by civilians dying,” he finally said. “It’s something that would haunt me. However, you are going to do what you think is right, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” He put up his hands. “All I ask it that you limit my people’s involvement as much as possible. You may continue to stay here, however, after this is through we will have to reevaluate our arrangement.”
“If we’re still standing a week from now, I hope you still see that I’m right,” Terrell replied coldly.
Xavier nodded. “As do I,” he said. “As do I.” He turned and headed off, leaving the soldiers to themselves.
“So, Cap, what are we doing now” Coleman asked tentatively.
Terrell turned to him. “I need you to get a line on weapons,” he said, “we’re running real low on stuff.”
“I’ll scrounge up everything we can use,” Coleman replied.
Terrell turned to Miles. “I need you to find out everything you can about where Mario’s tracker was,” he said. “I think the town was called…”
“Newton Grove,” Miles replied.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Terrell said, snapping his fingers.
Miles nodded. “I”ll talk to Xavier and find out where it is,” he assured him. “Dig up what I can on it.”
“You’re a good man,” the Captain said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Glad you’re on our side.”
“I’d imagine so,” he replied with a wink, and the Captain sighed, giving him a much needed smile. As the soldiers headed off, he walked to a bench overlooking the town and collapsed onto it.
There were a lot of people working, just going about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of the storm that was coming. After a few moments of watching them, Ruth approached him, carrying a small plate of food.
“I may not know a lot in this world, but I know when a man’s troubled,” she said gently. “I also know the second best way to ease his mind is a hot plate of food.”
Terrell chuckled and took the plate of fried chicken and collard greens. “Thank you,” he said honestly, “this will help out a lot.”
“I’m glad, dear,” she said, and turned to leave.
“Hey, Ruth,” he said as he set the plate in his lap.
She glanced back at him .”Yes, dear?” she asked.
“If a hot plate of food is the second best way to ease a man’s troubled mind, what’s the first?” he asked.
The older woman smirked at him. “If you had asked me that when I was thirty years younger, I could have given you a proper answer.”
He barked a laugh as she winked and sauntered off, and then shook his head, eating his dinner.
When he finished, he let out a deep sigh.
“Walter…” he murmured to himself. “I’m so sorry I let you down, man. You were good people, just like the people in this town. I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’d even care, but I’m gonna make you a promise. I’m going to do whatever I can to protect this town, even if it means laying down my life.” He clenched his fists and stared at the sky. “You have my word.”
END
BOOK 10 - CAROLINA FRONT: PT 6
BY DEREK SLATON
© 2020
CHAPTER ONE
Day Zero +20
The sun was still well below the horizon as Terrell walked with purpose from his bunkhouse. He carried no weapon other than his knife, though the trauma from the previous day weight heavily on him. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to cool the rage still flowing through his veins from the loss of his young friend Walter.
As he stalked across the courtyard of the town, he tried to force away the horrific click of his empty rifle as he tried to save the kid from the murderous Mario, echoing forever in his mind. He clenched his jaw, schooling his expression as he approached the main gate.
Hoyt was on duty, standing tall on the raised platform. His partner, a young teenager, snoozed next to him, splayed across the wood with his hand thrown over his eyes. Terrell avoided looking at him, images of Walter’s sprawled dead body dancing in his mind’s eye, torturing him.
The Captain kept his voice low to avoid waking the kid. “What do you say, Hoyt?” he asked.
“You’re up early today,” Hoyt replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Lots to get done today,” Terrell said with a nod. “No time to be sleeping.”
The older man pursed his lips for a moment, surveying the anger and determination still playing across the Captain’s face. “Your friend told me what happened.”
“Did he now?” Terrell tried to keep the annoyance from his tone, and failed miserably.
Hoyt nodded firmly. “Yep,” he said. “You need to know that it wasn’t your fault.”
“No offense,” the Captain said, tone curt, “but it’s a lot easier for you to say that when you weren’t there.”
The guard noticed the subtle venom in Terrell’s voice, and opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it and closed it again. The two stood there, staring out into the darkness for a silent moment.
The kid broke the silence with a soft snore, breaking the tension and allowing a small smile to creep across Terrell’s face.
“He been like this long?” he asked quietly.
Hoyt chuckled. “About a half hour or so.”
“Well, you let him sleep as long as he wants to,” Terrell said. “There’s far too much horror out there that’ll still be here when he wakes up.”
The guard nodded. “I’ll keep good watch while he’s out.”
“How’s it going tonight?” the Captain asked, crossing his arms. “Any action?”
“Had a few of those things roaming a couple hundred yards away,” Hoyt replied with a shrug. “Probably heard our nightly visitors from the other camp.”
Terrell’s gaze darkened. “So they’re still keeping tabs on us?”
“Just at night,” Hoyt replied. “Guessing they want to make sure we aren’t doing something or other. As far as I’m concerned, as long as they stay out there, they can do whatever they like.”
The Captain cocked his head. “Where did you spot them last?”
Hoyt pointed out into the distance. “See that little house there on the horizon?”
Terrell squinted. “Left side of the road?” he asked.
“That’s the one,” the guard replied with a nod. “They hole up in there most nights.”
The Captain raised his chin. “You see them leave yet?”
“Not tonight,” Hoyt said with a shake of his head.
Terrell patted him on the shoulder and turned away from the platform. “You may hear some gunfire,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t panic.”
Hoyt’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “I won’t do anything until you tell me otherwise,” he said.
“Appreciate it,” Terrell replied. “You have a good rest of your night.” He headed over to the side street barricade, a haphazard structure made of cars, hay bales, and some cheap metal siding. He clambered up on top of it and then hopped down on the other side, landing with a thud from the seven-foot drop.
The noise attracted a zombie that had been skulking at the end of the next building. It had once been a middle-aged man, clothes unrecognizable considering the guts hanging out of its stomach.
Terrell casually walked up to it, pulled out his knife, and stabbed it in the eye socket on the way past, barely breaking stride. The corpse crumpled to the ground as he ventured out into the darkness.
The low light provided the Captain enough cover to work his way up towards the house that Hoyt had pointed out. Even with the dim barely-moonlit conditions, he moved quickly between cover spots, stopping periodically to check to make sure there was no movement ahead.
When he was within thirty yards of the house, he ducked down by a tree. He peered inside, seeing some lights flickering in the front room, likely from some kind of lantern. Shadows of at least two people danced on the wall.
If I can just get in through the back, he thought, they’ll never know what hit them. As he contemplated his next move, however, there was a rustling behind him.
He whipped around, and there was a lone zombie shambling up towards him. It was smaller than the last, a little blonde that looked like it weighed no more than a hundred and ten pounds. It extended its arm, bloody mouth opening, and Terrell drew his knife.
A smile played his lips and he sheathed it again. Oh yeah, that’s a lot more fun, he thought to himself as an idea popped into his head.
As the ghoul approached him, he smacked its outstretched hand to the side, causing it to spin. It groaned as its fresh meal vanished from sight, and then snarled as Terrell grabbed a fistful of its hair and back of the shirt.
Settle down girl, you aren’t gonna feel a thing, he thought as the zombie thrashed about from being controlled by his arm-locked movements.
Terrell broke cover, forcing the wriggling creature to lead the way. He lifted it slightly off of the ground, blood-soaked sneakers kicking at the tips of the grass beneath. When he reached the window that the light was coming from, he stopped just short of it and then lunged forward with the ghoul.
He let go, sending the corpse hurtling through the air and smashing through the window. As soon as it hit the floor, panicked screams erupted inside.
As his enemies fumbled around, Terrell ran for the front door, kicking it in as soon as he reached it. He burst inside, taking in the zombie latching onto a man’s calf. He shrieked and tried to kick it away, but to no avail. The other man fumbled with his rifle, completely unaware of the Captain’s presence, attempting to save his screaming friend.
Terrell drew his knife and lashed out, grabbing the rifleman’s forehead, jerking his head back before slitting his throat from behind.
The other man watched in helpless horror as his partner fell to the ground. The zombie climbed him like a tree, and Terrell launched his knife end-over-end through the air, catching it in the head.
The corpse went limp on top of the panicked man, and Terrell strode over just as he shoved the rotted meat sack off of him and tried to crawl for his weapon. The Captain stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and kicked him square in the face.
The man flipped over onto his back with the force of the blow, moaning and holding his nose in pain. Terrell retrieved his knife from the zombie’s head, and then hopped down, planting his knees on his new prisoner’s chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man mumbled through his bloody face.
Terrell sneered down at him. “What are you sorry for?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, the Boss made us…” the man babbled.
“The Bos
s didn’t make you do shit,” the Captain snapped. “You could have said no, you could have driven away in any direction. Yet here you are, leg all torn up and crying like a little bitch because you didn’t have any balls.”
The man whimpered in fear at Terrell’s cold tone. “I’m so sorry,” he pleaded.
“Not nearly sorry enough,” the Captain seethed. He sliced through the man’s throat like butter, and watched with satisfaction as he gasped for air, blood pouring from his flesh as his body went limp. After, Terrell slammed the blade into his eye socket to make sure he didn’t have a runner on his hands.
The Captain wiped his blade off on the man’s shirt before sheathing it again, and then confiscating the weapons. They had two hunting rifles and a handgun, as well as a bag of hunting rifle ammunition. He looked over the room to make sure there wasn’t anything else he could use, and then headed back out into the night.
It didn’t seem to matter how many of these assholes he killed, his rage still boiled hot. He stepped out into the darkness, guns draped over his shoulder. He stopped for a moment to look at the sun just peeking over the horizon.
Terrell raised his chin. “I’m gonna make all of your friends wish they’d never fucked with the people of this town.”
CHAPTER TWO
Hoyt stood on his platform, watching Terrell saunter casually up to the front gate, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun, new weapons bouncing on his shoulder. The guard gently nuzzled his sleeping partner, and the kid jumped awake, blinking rapidly at the older man.
“Come on now, we gotta get this gate open,” Hoyt said.
The young man rubbed his eyes and peeled himself off of the wood, getting to his feet. They both headed down from the platform and unlocked the gate, pulling it open. Terrell didn’t even break stride, just strolling right on in.
“Morning young man,” he said brightly to the kid, who still had large bags beneath his tired eyes. “You get a good nap in?”
Hoyt chuckled at the young man’s confused expression and then motioned to Terrell’s guns. “Looks like you found a little treasure trove there,” he said.
Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12 Page 21
