Dead America: Operation Bismarck (Dead America - The First Week Book 4)

by Derek Slaton

  “This is Eldon,” Mr. Eldon added, “we’re gonna use the cars as a barricade that will hopefully hold them at bay till you can get here. Just don’t wait too long.”

  “Chad, it’s Myles,” Myles cut in. “You have eyes on where we are?”

  Chad readjusted his view, honing on on the gun store. “Yeah Myles, I got you.”

  “Is there anything in our general vicinity that’s tall and overlooks the interstate?” the young farm hand asked.

  Chad focused on a three story apartment complex on a hill just north of the gun store. It stood on a hill overlooking the interstate.

  “As a matter of fact,” he replied, “there is. Looks like an apartment building from here. About three, maybe four blocks north and a couple blocks east of your position.”

  “Is it close to an exit?” Myles asked.

  Chad nodded. “Right on the corner of one.”

  “All right, we got this, y’all,” the young farm hand said firmly. “We’re gonna give them something to focus on, and buy some time for the plows to get up there.”

  “Myles, just hang tight, I’ll come get you,” Susanna came in.

  “We don’t have time for that,” he replied. “By the time you got up here and got us to the apartment building, they’d be past us.”

  “But-”

  “Susanna, go to channel six,” Myles instructed. “We’ll talk in just a minute.”

  There was a pause before she came back, “Okay.”

  “Emily, we’re leaving a rope ladder on the side of the building,” Myles continued. “Before the end of the day, you need to have someone from your team swing by here and pick up the stuff on the roof. It’s a lot of gear we don’t need today, but we’re gonna need it in the coming weeks.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she replied. “Be safe.”

  “All right everybody, I’m going to be radio silent for a bit,” Myles declared. “Don’t want one of y’all saying hello when we’re trying to sneak past zombies. When we’re in position, I’ll be in touch. Myles out.”

  Chad clipped his radio to his belt, and looked through the binoculars at the slow horde of death once again. He looked at the apartment building, gauging that it wasn’t really that far of a distance between the two.

  He took a deep breath and muttered to himself, “Don’t know what you have in mind, Myles, but better hurry it up.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  10:23 AM

  “Myles, you there?” Susanna’s voice came through his radio as he climbed down from the roof back into the gun store. Kolby and Duncan scrambled around the store, loading up weapons and ammo.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Myles replied, and set the radio down on the front counter as he took down a loaded AR-15 from the wall. He checked the scope and pulled out the mags, loading them up.

  “Please just wait on me to come pick you up,” she pleaded. “The streets aren’t safe.”

  He took a deep breath. He’d never heard her sound so desperate. He picked up the radio. “Susanna, we’re gonna be okay,” he assured her. “Now you remember that pretty shotgun I gave you?”

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “Well, it was part of a his and hers package, so I have one just like it,” he said, and turned back to the wall. He pulled down the bright pink shotgun, shaking his head and smiling at it. “Well, mostly like it,” he said to himself.

  “I just worry about you,” she admitted.

  “I know,” he replied into the radio. “But what I need you to do right now is focus on helping Zach rescue people. You’re helping to save lives. Just like we’re about to.”

  “You’d better call me when you get to the apartment,” she said, voice firm.

  “You have my word,” he replied. “Talk soon.”

  “I…” she paused. “I love you, Myles.”

  A huge grin erupted on his face. He knew how hard it was for her to share her feelings like that. He’d spent a lot of time hoping that he would get to see the more emotional side of her, through that tough farm-girl exterior.

  “I love you too, Susanna,” he replied.

  “Oh lover boy!” Duncan whistled from the back of the store. “Don’t tell me your heart’s taken, lover boy!”

  Myles rolled his eyes as he continued filling the mags for the AR-15. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any longer.”

  “Hey Myles?” Kolby asked.

  He sighed. “Not you, too.”

  “Oh, no, there’s plenty of time to mock you later,” Kolby replied as he strode to the front counter. “I was wondering if that was a display, or if they actually have the stuff for it?” He pointed to a few mannequins in military fatigues, posing with a pair of fifty caliber sniper rifles.

  Duncan joined them and the trio stared up at the display in awe.

  “That…” Myles cleared his throat. “That is an excellent question. Look around for fifty cal ammo.”

  They pored through boxes of ammo, and finally Duncan made a noise of victory. “Oh yeah boys, we’re in business.” He slammed a full case of ammo onto the counter.

  “All right, let’s get packed up,” Myles said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Within a few minutes, the trio stood at the back door, loaded up with guns and gear. Myles squared his shoulders but couldn’t help the smile of amusement on his face. They looked like they were off to raid a Central American compound in an eighties action movie.

  He and Duncan grunted as they moved the heavy display back from the door enough for them to slip out. As soon as they were out in the alley, Myles aimed with his fabulous shotgun, sweeping the alley quickly. Duncan followed with a heavy bag on his back and an assault rifle, Kolby bringing up the rear with a lighter rifle to cover his back.

  They moved quickly and silently down the alley to the road, Myles peering around the corner of the building. The snow was coming down hard, and he furrowed his brow. It had covered any zombie tracks, which wasn’t a very good judge of whether they’d be running into trouble or not.

  “Let’s move,” he said quietly. “Shoot only if you have to. As soon as one shot goes off, we’re going to be a target.”

  His companions nodded and followed him into the street. They moved somewhere between a light jog and a mall walker, trucking through fresh powder. Unfortunately, so loaded up with guns, they weren’t as soundless as they could have been, prompting a few moans from a nearby house.

  Myles raised his gun in their direction, but the zombies that emerged were very slow moving, stumbling down the front stairs. He waved for his team to follow, figuring they could just outrun them, worth the risk more than making too much noise.

  As they reached the end of the first block, Myles looked to the east to see a half-dozen zombies staggering in their direction. To the west, there were about thirty corpses tramping through the snow, but they were on the far side and slow.

  “We gotta go two blocks east eventually,” Myles whispered. “You want to move over now?”

  Duncan shook his head. “Let’s keep moving north until we’re forced to move east,” he suggested.

  “Agreed.” Kolby nodded.

  Myles motioned north and hustled forward, leading them across the intersection. He glanced back when the reached the next one, the enemy mob just rounding the corners to shuffle after them. There were more rotting undead hanging out at the following intersection, the moans and grunts growing louder as the mob grew.

  As the group passed the third intersection, the moans had become a dull roar, and Myles knew that it would be attracting a lot more attention now. At the fourth intersection, a dozen creatures came around the corner from the east. They had to go that way now, so Myles wasted no time rushing forward and opening fire on the lead line.

  With four quick shots, the bulk of the group was laid to waste, Kolby and Duncan popping off a few bullets to headshot the rest.

  “Two more blocks, let’s go,” Myles said, glancing over his shoulder at their followers, now n
umbering easily in the hundreds.

  The three tired men trudged through the snow, breathing heavy from lugging their equipment at a faster pace than they would have liked. As they cleared the next intersection, the apartment building loomed ahead.

  “That’s it on the left!” Myles said. “Almost there, boys.” He took off at a run, and they sprinted the last block and ran up the driveway.

  There were several buildings and a large parking lot in the center, and Myles led them to the building at the far end that overlooked the interstate. A few zombies came out of the breezeway, but a single blast from the pink tactical shotgun took them down easily.

  The stairs were on the back side of the building, and Myles led the way up, calves screaming after the sprint. When they got to the third floor, he did a quick sweep of the hallway.

  “We’re clear,” he declared. “Duncan, watch the stairs while I get us into the apartment.”

  He nodded and stood guard at the stairwell, waiting on any rogue zombies to head up. Myles reached into his bag and pulled out a new magazine, loading it into the gun.

  “Blow through a mag already?” Kolby asked, incredulous.

  “Nope, but I did plan ahead,” came the reply with the sharp click of the gun closing up. “That buckshot may be great for taking down zombies, but I figured we might need some slugs if we wanted to get into an apartment.”

  Kolby stood back as his companion took aim at the door. With two successive shots, he destroyed the knob and deadbolt, leaving the door to swing open. They rushed inside, weapons raised, moving from room to room to make sure it was empty.

  “We’re clear!” Kolby called, and Duncan ran in to join them. He dropped his bag and the other two wedged a sofa out and shoved it down the stairwell to block the way.

  “It’s not perfect,” Myles admitted, “but it should make it more difficult for them to get up here.” He slammed the door behind them as Duncan rummaged through the kitchen drawers, finding a hammer and nails.

  Kolby took it and set to hammering the door to the frame. “I don’t know how well this is going to hold,” he said. “Wish we had a way to take them out as they came up.”

  Myles motioned for him to step out of the way, and then fired once into the center of the door.

  Kolby admired the baseball-sized hole left behind. “Yeah, that should do it.”

  “Myles, you need to see this,” Duncan called from the balcony.

  The younger man joined him and looked out at the interstate. About a hundred yards away, the large horde slogged through the snow, turning it to slush as they staggered towards the exit.

  “You ready to try out the fifty cal?” Myles asked.

  Duncan grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  They bustled inside to retrieve the heavy duty weapons and ammo from the bags, heading back to the patio. There was a wooden table there, and they swept off the empty glasses and ashtray to drag it over to the railing to use as a platform. They each placed their weapons on it and took aim.

  Duncan fired first, reducing a zombie’s head to a fine red mist. The bullet continued into the throng, dropping about a dozen of them, though not all of them permanently. However it slowed down the stumbling horde as they tripped over fallen bodies.

  Myles squeezed off a round with similar results. They continued to fire, the thunderous blast of each shot echoing throughout the cold air.

  “It’s working!” Myles exclaimed as he ducked inside to grab more ammo. “We’re pulling them off the interstate!”

  Kolby stopped hammering and looked through the makeshift peephole, seeing no zombies but the edge of the couch in his field of view was shifting.

  “I got this door pretty secure,” he said. “Although I’m gonna keep an eye on it just to be sure.”

  “Any of them making it up?” Myles asked.

  Kolby shook his head. “Not yet, but they’re trying.”

  “All right, let me drop off the ammo and I’ll find some reinforcements for the door,” came the reply, and he headed back outside to drop the handful of magazines off to Duncan.

  He saw the bulk of the zombies were coming down the off ramp and towards them, but a few continued on their movement to the bridge.

  “Hey, one or two stragglers getting by is fine,” Myles said, “but if you start seeing a lot, take em out.”

  “You don’t want to keep having fun?” Duncan asked.

  Myles pointed back over his shoulder. “Gonna go help Kolby keep watch so we don’t get eaten.”

  “That sounds like a good use of time,” the shooter agreed.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” Myles said before ducking back inside.

  Duncan fired off another round, shrugging to himself. “Gotta have my fun now, cause getting out of here is gonna be a bitch and a half.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  1:30 PM

  “Was worried there for a while,” Mr. Eldon said as Emily hopped out of the final snowplow at the I-94. “But Myles did a hell of a job distracting that mob. My shooters said they only had a small handful of ‘em come into view.”

  Jay leaned on Odell’s truck. “Now we just have to figure out how to get them out.”

  “Not just them,” Ernest cut in, slinging his gun over his shoulder, “but those boys in the capitol too.”

  “One step at a time, fellas.” Emily put her hands up. “We still have to get two more of those plows running so we can finish blocking off the Main Avenue bridge.”

  Mr. Eldon nodded. “Speaking of which, why don’t y’all head out? I’m sure Wainwright is throwing a fit he got bumped from first to last.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “If he is, I’ll be sure to let you know, Mister Eldon.” She nodded to her crew, who hopped up into the bed of the truck. Once they were seated and secure, Odell took off down the bridge, taking the back route to the Main Avenue bridge.

  As they approached, there were a line of cars on the freeway and a dozen or so people firing in the direction of the one-ninety-four bridge.

  “Odell, pull up there,” Emily instructed from the passenger seat. “Let’s see what’s going on.”

  He nodded and pulled up along the firing line. She peered over the hood of one of the cars, her eyes widening at the spread of at least a hundred zombies on the other side.

  “Hey there, Miss Walker,” Randall greeted, approaching her open window.

  “Randall, what’s the situation?” she asked.

  “Oh, we got things under control,” he assured her. “Those other plows you sent fit perfectly and we got the holes plugged. When we started coming back up this way, those zombies decided to keep following us.”

  Emily furrowed her brow. “Any idea where they are coming from?”

  “Apparently there is a high end residential area on our side of the bridge,” Randall explained. “Looks like a lot of folks rushed out of the city and took refuge there, and it didn’t go so well.”

  “You good on ammo?” she asked. “Need anything?”

  “Ma’am, we’re good to go,” he replied with a smile. “They’ve been thinning out pretty good the last half hour or so.”

  She reached through the window and patted his shoulder. “Good work.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Randall replied, and tipped his cap as the truck pulled away.

  As they arrived to their destination, the crew was at work fortifying the plows and cars, three sedans lined up at the end to act as a stopgap for the coming snowplows. Odell parked right next to the man in charge, and Emily thanked him before hopping out of the cab, her crew following from the back.

  “Mister Wainwright,” she greeted.

  “Emily, you get Eldon squared away?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, his bridge is just about secure, his men are putting the final touches on it.”

  “Good, that oughta shut him up.” He wrinkled his nose.

  She shook her head. “One of these days, you’ll have to tell me what this feud is all about.”

/>   “Plenty of time this winter,” Mr. Wainwright replied.

  “So, what’s the situation here?” she asked.

  He motioned to the lineup of vehicles. “As soon as we get those plows here, it should only take us an hour or so to fill in the gaps.”

  “Ken said he should have them up and running within the hour,” Emily said. “That should have to locking this thing down by three-thirty or so.”

  “Talked to Zach on his last drop off,” Mr. Wainwright replied. “Said he had one more batch of people to extract and that’s all he has. Susanna is helping him with this run so they can get wrapped up.”

  Emily nodded. “That just leaves Chad and Myles.”

  “Talked to Chad a few minutes ago,” he said, “he said they were trapped on the roof, so if they’re getting out somebody is gonna have to go get ‘em.”

  Ernest cocked his repeater loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Well, let’s go get ‘em, then.”

  “Look at that,” Glenn drawled as he walked up behind them, “city boy wantin’ to play the hero.” His arm was in a sling from the bullet wound in his shoulder, but he wore a smirk.

  “Well, I figured I already saved your ass today,” Ernest replied with a grin, “shouldn’t be a problem to repeat the process.”

  The wounded cowboy turned to a nearby farm worker. “Hey, do me a favor. My gun and stuff is in the car over there. Go fetch it for me, will ya?”

  “You got one arm, hillbilly,” Ernest said as the worker scurried off. “What do you think you can do with that?”

  Glenn threw his good arm around the city boy’s neck, pulling him into a playful headlock. “I can whoop your ass, that’s for damn sure,” he joked, and then let go as his opponent laughed. “I can also drive one of those snowplows.”

  “Pretty sure we got that covered,” Ernest replied. “Ken and Barry are driving the last ones here when they’re ready.”

  “Then I’m gonna need Ken to fix me up one more,” the stubborn cowboy replied. “I saw the number it did to those things down on the bridge. Should be good enough to get Myles out of his little jam. Not the first time I’ve had to pull his chestnuts outta the fire.”