Kersey took a long sip of coffee while David and his team monitored the action. One of the soldiers ended a long conversation he’d been having, and typed for a time before sending some data over to the main screen.
“Captain, got an update for you,” David said.
Kersey carried his mug over to the three-monitor station. “What you got for me?”
“Bretz dropped off the main force at Johnson’s barricade about an hour ago,” David replied. “They’ve started clearing out the Verdale suburb, but it’s slow going. Apparently they are meeting heavy resistance.”
The Captain furrowed his brow. “Was Herrera not successful in drawing them away from the front lines?”
David typed away for a moment, and pulled upa drone image. The shot was from high up, around four hundred feet, showing a huge residential area with the bright white roofs of the giant Super Centers in the distance. Before those, however, was a huge dark mass of rotted flesh.
“This was taken about twenty minutes ago when they were doing the initial survey of the area,” he explained. “It’s hard to see from this angle, but if you focus on this area, there appears to be thousands of those things at the Super Center. So Herrera was successful… just not successful enough.”
Kersey sighed, massaging the side of his face as he stared at the photo. “Looks like we greatly underestimated the resistance in this area.”
“Could have been people trying to evacuate the city and only made it this far,” David mused with a shrug.
The Captain licked his lips and shook his head. “Whatever the reason, we’re dealing with it now.” He took a deep breath. “If they need more time on the ground, that’s fine. I’d rather tell the General we’re taking an extra day rather than telling him we lost have the force.”
“I’ll make sure the order is passed down,” David confirmed, and typed into a small messenger box on one of his screens.
Kersey took a sip of coffee while he waited. “How’s the island looking?” he asked when the lanky man returned to the main screen.
“Give me a moment, and I’ll get Sergeant Copeland on the line,” David replied.
The Captain nodded. “Thank you.” He headed over to the other soldiers as he waited for David to work, peeking over a shoulder at the map of Verdale.
It was updating to show that the force had only moved a few blocks. There were a few red dots scattered about.
“What are those?” he asked, leaning over and pointing to the dots.
The soldier inclined his head. “Zombie clusters,” he replied. “Whenever we identify a group of more than a hundred on the drone footage, we mark it so our troops aren’t surprised.”
Kersey let out a long, low whistle. “Settle in,” he said, “looks like it’s going to be a long day.”
“Yes sir,” the soldier replied.
“I have Sergeant Copeland for you,” David piped up, and swivelled on his chair, holding out a headset.
“Sergeant, give me some good news,” Kersey pleaded as he slipped the headset on.
“With pleasure, Captain,” Copeland replied, a jaunt in his tone. “We have the island secure. There are still a couple hundred zombies in the pavilion, but we have it locked up tight and will be dealing with it methodically. We have fire teams on the north and south banks lighting those suckers up.”
Kersey raised a fist. “Drawing a crowd?”
“Oh yes, sir,” Copeland confirmed. “Just from my vantage point, I can see a thousand of those things lined up on the banks of the river. A few have even tried to walk across it, but they’re downriver somewhere now.”
The Captain grinned. “Given the stench on those things, a bath might do them some good.”
“With you on that one, sir,” the Sergeant replied with a chuckle.
“Benny has a couple more drops to do,” Kersey said, “but once he’s done I’ll have him drop some supplies to you. We’re running a bit behind schedule with the eastern assault, so you might be there a couple of days.”
Copeland clucked his tongue. “We will happily camp out under the stars, sir,” he declared.
Kersey laughed. “I’ll do my best to get the raw materials for s’mores then.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, sir,” Copeland replied, amusement in his tone.
“Keep up the good work, Sergeant,” the Captain said sincerely. “I’ll let you know when you have incoming.” He pulled the microphone aside and leaned over to David. “David, can you get me Kowalski?”
His companion punched his keyboard for a moment, and then pointed back at Kersey to let him know that he had him on the line.
The Captain gave him a thumbs up before asking, “Kowalski, how’s your sniper’s nest?”
“It’s beautiful, sir,” the sniper replied. “We’re having a bit of fun up here to see who can make the longest shot.”
Kersey laughed. “If you don’t win that, you’re out of my unit,” he said playfully.
“You know I’d never let you down, sir,” Kowalski came back.
The Captain sobered, taking a sip of his coffee. “So what can you tell me?” he asked.
“The city is jam-packed with those fuckers,” the sniper replied. “There’s a line about fifty deep to get to the riverfront. We’re trying to thin them out from our position, but we might as well be shoveling sand in a hurricane.”
Kersey shook his head. “Have you been able to spot any more survivors?” he asked.
“Just a handful,” Kowalski replied. “They heard all the gunfire and started waving a flag from their building a few blocks away. I let the APC retrieval team know.”
The Captain nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. “And just to keep you in the loop, we’re behind on pushing westward, so you need to get comfortable.”
“Oh, darn,” Kowalski replied, sarcasm evident in his tone. “I get to spend another day shooting zombies from afar. How ever will I survive?”
Kersey chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”
“No doubt, Captain,” the sniper replied, and his friend could almost hear the grin in his voice.
“Benny is going to be making supply drops later today, so submit a wish list when you get a chance,” Kersey instructed.
“Ten-four, Cap,” Kowalski said.
The Captain pulled off the headset and held it out to David. “Anybody heard from the airport lately?”
The soldiers shook their heads, but David took the headset and turned to his keyboard. “I’ll see what I can get,” he said, and typed away. Finally he handed back the headset, declaring, “I got Corporal Hanson for you.”
“Corporal, status report,” Kersey said as he situated the headset back on.
“We’re developing quite the little community of survivors out here, Captain,” Hanson replied. “Those APC boys really bringing them in. Think we have about thirty civilians with more on the way.”
Kersey nodded. “Any resistance?” he asked.
“The occasional straggler that follows them in,” the Corporal replied. “But they’re usually picked off before they even hit the runway.”
The Captain nodded his appreciation. “Anything you need from me, Corporal?” he asked, and took a sip of coffee. “Benny is going to be heading back that way eventually to refuel.”
“We’re good, thank you,” Hanson assured him. “We have food, meds, and plenty of room to stretch out. Unless you got someone who can fix the satellite TV, we have what we need.”
Kersey laughed. “If I do find that guy, we got dibs here first.”
“Perks of being higher ranked, I suppose,” Hanson replied with an exaggerated sigh.
The Captain chuckled. “You know it, Corporal,” he replied playfully. “We’ll be in touch.” He removed the headset and handed it back to David, taking a more relaxed position leaning against the table beside him.
“Outside of the eastern front delay, I’d say we’re moving along pretty well,” David mused.
Kersey nodded.
“I tend to agree.”
“Sir, I just got word from Corporal Bretz,” one of the soldiers piped up. “Their train has reached the target and they are preparing to launch their assault.”
The Captain nodded. “Monitor the situation and keep me posted on updates.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.
Kersey lifted his mug to his lips, and then frowned when he found it empty. “Gonna need a lot more of this before the day is out.” He sighed and headed out for a refill.
CHAPTER TEN
Bretz led his force of fifty up to the treeline across from the apartment complex. He took out his binoculars and looked over the building, finding a few dozen zombies between them and the target. There were also several vehicles parked around the lot.
“How far up is the bridge from here?” he asked.
Corporal McGee, a short but muscular man in his early forties, pulled out his map. “It’s just up around that bend, no more than a quarter mile to the start of it,” he reported.
“Okay, we’re going to make some noise getting these cars,” Bretz said. “If there are that many zombies just hanging out in the road, you can bet there are even more hiding from us.” He studied the lot more, counting ten vehicles. “Barber, Cross, you two are my hotwire guys, yes?”
The two mid-thirties Privates nodded in unison beside him.
“Perfect,” Bretz said. “Corporal, I need you to break off ten men in addition to these two. They’re going to be my drivers. I want you to take the rest and get up to the bridge and evaluate the situation.”
McGee nodded. “Do you want a firing line?” he asked.
“Just get prepped,” Bretz said, shaking his head. “If there are cars on the bridge, push them to the other side as best you can. If there are hostiles, silence is best. There are tens of thousands of those things on the other side of that bridge, and I’d rather them not know we’re here until we’re ready.”
“No argument from me,” McGee replied, and turned to point at several troops, picking out a team to go to the parking lot.
Bretz nodded once he was finished. “All right, let’s get it done,” he said, and the groups split.
He led his group of twelve towards the apartments, approaching the roadway. He pulled his knife, prompting several others to do the same, and as they came across the first few zombies on the street, they dispatched them silently.
Bretz motioned for them to move up, and they repeated the process as they made the several block run to the apartments, easily handling the few dozen creatures they encountered along the way, spread out and slow to react.
As they got to the entrance of the complex, they took up position around the front gates, which have been left permanently open. Bretz began pointing to the troops as he spoke in quiet hisses.
“You two with Barber,” he said, “you two with Cross. Watch their backs as they get the cars running. As soon as they’re hot, you head off to the bridge. The rest of us are going to circle the complex to make sure we don’t get any surprises. Barber, Cross, if we’re not back by the time you run out of drivers, you wait. For at least the next twenty minutes, you two are the most important members of this team. Questions?”
There was not a sound amongst the group.
“Then let’s move,” Bretz confirmed, and headed through the gates, running left along the main part of the driveway. There were a few zombies near the first few sedans, and the soldiers flanking the hotwire team rushed up and took them out with quick jabs to the head.
Barber tried the door handle on the first car, but it was locked. Without hesitation, one of the troops stepped up and smashed the driver’s side window with the butt of his rifle.
Barber pursed his lips. “I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he said dryly, “but next time let me handle this. Or at the very least, break out the backseat window so I don’t have to lay on broken glass.”
The soldier flushed crimson, but nodded to acknowledge his fuckup. As he moved to stand guard, the Private ducked inside to get to work.
Bretz led his team around the complex. There were several cars, maybe a dozen or so just on this side alone. There were a few straggler zombies, but the soldiers quickly put them out of their misery with bladed strikes. As they came around the corner, a central park area came into view in the middle of several buildings. Once upon a time it would have been beautiful, but the green grass was laden with crimson pools.
“Come on, let’s see who’s hiding,” Bretz said, and led the men through the breezeway of one of the three-story buildings. He paused to stab a ghoul in the head that flopped around on one of the concrete steps, apparently too broken to stand up.
They emerged into the courtyard area, with multiple grilling areas and benches for sitting, but no creatures to be found. There were signs of scuffles, however, so there must have been zombies around at some point.
Bretz clanged his knife against a metal barbecue lid, sending a loud metallic reverberation throughout the complex. There were a few tense moments of silence before moans filled the air, echoing in the breezeways. Several zombies emerged, a trickle quickly turning into dozens.
“Shit,” the Corporal muttered as they grew densely packed and headed for the barbecue pit. “Okay, we’re going to have to go weapons hot. Single shot, pick your target, and eliminate them as efficiently as you can.” He smacked his communicator. “McGee, we’re going to start shooting, just be aware of the attention.”
There was a brief moment of silence, before the reply came.
“Not going to matter, we got our own shitshow up here,” McGee replied tersely.
Bretz wasn’t enthused about hearing that, as the mission suddenly had gotten much more difficult than he’d already thought. Before he could give the order to start firing, a chorus of gunshots erupted from the bridge, and he raised his hand.
“Light ‘em up!” he cried, and stepped forward, striking a creature square in the head. The rest of the men in his group did the same, unloading round after round, no longer caring about keeping the noise to a minimum.
As they fired, the noise attracted several more zombies emerging from the buildings. One of the soldiers caught one out of the corner of his eye from the back, and spun around to start firing in the other direction. There were a dozen ghouls coming from one breezeway about twenty yards away.
“Contact rear!” he yelled, but his voice was drowned out by the constant gunfire. “Contact rear!” Still nobody turned, so he reached out and smacked the soldier next to him, who turned around to help.
The battle went on for a solid minute, the troops firing repeatedly. Finally the dust began to settle on the corpses, and the gunfire trickled down to nothing, at least for their group.
In the distance, massive amounts of gunfire still echoed from the bridge.
“Fuck, that just doesn’t sound good,” Bretz muttered, and smacked his communicator as he glanced over the dead to make sure there wasn’t anything still moving. “McGee, do you read?” he demanded. “McGee! Do you read?”
Silence.
The Corporal pointed to three of his troops. “You three, do a quick sweep of the rest of the complex. We’re weapons hot, so fuck up anything that gets in your way, then haul ass back to the cars.”
The soldiers nodded and headed off through one of the breezeways.
Bretz motioned to the other soldiers. “Rest of you, on me,” he said, and led them back to the cars, seeing that Barber and Cross had each gotten one started. The troops were about to pull out, when Bretz waved them down. They rolled down their windows, pausing.
“Out of the car, I’m taking this one,” the Corporal said, pointing to the closest one.
The soldier hopped out as a hail of gunfire resonated in the distance.
“I can’t reach Corporal McGee, so I have to assume the worst,” Bretz said, addressing the group. “I’m going to take charge up there. You all know what needs to be done, so do it quick.”
His men nodded, and got back to
work.
Bretz hopped into the driver’s seat and rolled the window down so he could speak to the other driver. “Stay behind me,” he instructed, “the primary goal is to block off that bridge, so pick a spot and jam it in there.”
The soldier nodded and revved his engine. Bretz dropped the car into gear and peeled out of the complex, at least as much as he could in a late model sedan. The two vehicles came around the corner to witness a massive battle taking place on the bridge.
There were hundreds of zombies in the distance, coming at a group of six soldiers who had taken position behind a police car sitting sideways in the far right lane. They were expending ammo quickly, likely hoping to step the tide, but the zombies were already within ten yards of them.
A little closer, another dozen or so troops had set up a makeshift firing position, trying to help stave off the advancement. Everyone else was engaged in various combat. One man was fighting off two zombies to the right, managing to shove one in the chest while the other sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Another duo were trapped between a car and a concrete barrier as a horde closed in, limbs flying as they leapt off the bridge into the water below.
Bretz gaped at the carnage. And then he caught a glimpse of something terrifying. Two zombies in army fatigues emerged from behind one of the cars, looking around before letting out screeches and sprinting towards the big fire team down the bridge.
“Fuck, we got runners,” he breathed, and hit the gas. He tore down the bridge, chasing the fresh zombies. He was able to hit them with the front of the car, sending them underneath. Running them over caused him to lose control of the vehicle and he spun out as he thunked over them, slamming into the concrete barrier.
As he collected himself, he looked back at the runners in his rearviews. One was completely decimated by the car, but the other just had some broken limbs and crawled across the asphalt.
A soldier suddenly threw open the door, startling the Corporal.
“Sir, are you okay?” the soldier demanded shrilly.
Bretz blinked at him, and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” He got out of the car and the soldier immediately turned to fire at another runner that was headed their way. He missed, unused to the speed, and hit it in the torso instead of the head. He ducked and lunged into the zombie’s stomach, using the momentum to hurl it off the edge of the bridge into the water.
Dead America The Second Week (Book 12): Dead America, Heartland Pt. 5 Page 6
