Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 12 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 10]

by Slaton, Derek

  David shrugged. “This is my home now too,” he pointed out. “So I gotta do what I can to make it succeed.”

  “You don’t let the General here give you any shit, you hear?” Kersey said, waving a hand at a smirking Stephens.

  David grinned. “You come back from Idaho in one piece, you hear?” he replied.

  Kersey gave him a nod and led Bretz from the room, headed for Benny’s chopper.

  “Well David,” Stephens declared, “I guess you have officially been passed off to me. Are you ready to get started building your radio network?”

  The communications expert nodded, practically vibrating with excitement. “Absolutely, sir,” he replied. “Let’s get to it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kersey looked down at the scout and sweeper teams below the helicopter as Benny flew them north towards Burlington.

  “Man, this shit is gonna go on for years, ain’t it?” the pilot asked.

  Kersey nodded. “Afraid so, buddy,” he admitted. “But this kind of action up here shouldn’t last more than a few weeks.”

  “Then the real fun begins, right?” Benny asked.

  The Captain laughed. “I think we have different definitions of fun,” he said dryly.

  “So, where you boys off to next?” the pilot asked. “Or is it top secret and all that jazz?”

  Kersey chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Not sure who you would tell,” he said, “but let’s be honest, do you really think people would take you as a credible source?”

  “Depends on the topic,” Benny shot back playfully. “If I’m dispensing knowledge about military operations? Probably not. If I’m letting them know which run-down diner waitress will give them a Blue Plate Special in the walk-in freezer if you tip ‘em right? Then probably so.”

  Kersey burst out laughing. “Why do I get the feeling that you’ve led an interesting life, buddy?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’ve got some stories that will haunt your dreams, Captain,” Benny assured him.

  Kersey shook his head. “I have no doubt that you do,” he agreed. “But to get back to less disturbing topics… we’re going to be heading out to Idaho. Boise, to be specific.”

  “Well hell,” the pilot burst out, “I lived in Boise for a while after the war!”

  The Captain blinked at him in shock. “You don’t strike me as the Idaho type,” he admitted. “The ‘I’d bang a ho’ type, but not Idaho.”

  “You’re right about both,” Benny replied, laughing.

  “So how in the hell did you end up there?” Kersey asked.

  The pilot shrugged. “Man, it was right after getting back from the war,” he replied. “Made the near fatal mistake of falling for the first woman who paid me any attention. Couple months into things, she convinced me to pick up and move to Boise so she could pursue her dreams of being a farmer or rancher or something she was woefully unqualified to do. Apparently she thought growing a pot plant in her closet made her a farmer.”

  “Come on now,” Kersey cut in playfully, “growing pot in your closet is a skill, after all.”

  Benny nodded. “Wholeheartedly agree,” he admitted, “but if you smoked what she was growing you would know she didn’t have that skill.”

  “So what happened?” Kersey asked.

  The pilot took a deep breath. “Well, we got out there, and of course I was the only one with money, so it was my name on the apartment lease,” he began. “To her credit, she managed to find a job on a farm pretty quick. Unfortunately, she lasted about three days before saying it wasn’t for her. A week later, she hopped a bus and headed home, leaving me with a year long lease.”

  “You know you can break those, right?” Kersey asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Benny rolled his eyes. “Oh of course I know,” he replied, “but it was a great excuse to make her lazy ass catch a bus than go back with her.”

  “Sounds like you made the right call, man,” Kersey said, and they shared a laugh.

  The bridge fortifications approaching Burlington came into view, having been improved with elevator gunner nests on either side made out of painter's scaffolding. Benny hovered over the Super Center and set the chopper down in the middle of the lot.

  As the blades slowed, Sergeant Copeland approached the bird.

  “Copeland!” Benny exclaimed as he hopped to the ground.

  The Sergeant offered him a wide grin. “Hey buddy,” he said, “wasn’t expecting a resupply today.”

  “Well, I had some special cargo that I felt needed to be delivered personally,” Benny explained, and stepped aside as the other two came around the chopper.

  Copeland shook his head. “Aw hell, here comes trouble,” he declared.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Kersey admitted with a grin, and they shook hands.

  “Come on, we got a nice little relaxation spot set up,” the Sergeant offered, waving for them to follow him. “You want me to call anybody else up here?”

  Before Kersey could respond, somebody yelled from the front of the Super Center.

  “Holy shit, is that Captain Kersey, live and in the flesh?!” Kowalski called.

  The Captain laughed and shook his head. “I think Kowalski is going to be more than enough,” he said.

  The sniper approached, a spring in his step as he appraised the duo. “And Bretz!” he exclaimed. “You’re looking pretty good there, got a nice tan going on. Which is impressive given the cloud covered days. How long did you have to bake to get that kind of color?”

  “Longer than I’d like to admit,” Bretz replied dryly.

  “You might as well join us Kowalski,” Copeland suggested, “the good Captain here is bringing us some new trouble to get into.”

  The five men headed into the Super Center, where several soldiers were walking about and hanging around. Some snacked on junk food, others lounged around on makeshift cots between the registers.

  “Hey, if the two of you are here,” Kowalski asked without turning around, “then what kind of trouble is Baker and Mason getting into?”

  Kersey and Bretz shared a concerned glance, and the Captain cleared his throat. “Baker got himself a bit of a concussion, so he’s resting up,” he said thickly. “Mason…”

  There was an awkward silence, and Kowalski stopped walking, turning around. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “That’s a damn shame, man,” he said quietly, in a rare moment of seriousness. “Mason was a good kid.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Kersey agreed.

  Copeland gave them a moment of silence and then waved for them to follow him. “Come on, we’re almost there,” he said.

  They entered an area at the back of the store that looked like a summer backyard cookout. There were several tables and outdoor lounge chairs spread out in a circle, with a charcoal grill in the middle. A soldier stood there, grilling up some canned meat with a smile.

  “Hey Sergeant,” he greeted, “just about got these done if you’re looking for a hot meal. Bread’s a little stale, but it’s still good.”

  Copeland nodded and held out his hand for the tongs. “Appreciate it, soldier,” he said. “I can cover it from here, why don’t you go take ten? We have some things to discuss.”

  The soldier nodded, handing over the tongs and inclining his head towards the Captain before sauntering off towards the front of the store.

  “Anybody for some canned meat burgers?” Copeland asked, checking the patties and flipping them.

  Everyone nodded and took seats around the patio table, and Kowalski took up a stack of plates, passing out the burgers as Copeland removed them from the grill.

  “Okay, Captain,” Copeland finally said as he sat down with his own plate, “lay it on us. What sort of suicide mission are we going on this time?”

  Kersey took a bite of his sandwich, holding up a finger as he chewed and swallowed. “How do you boys feel about conquering Boise, Idaho?” he finally asked.

  Copeland raised an eyebrow. “Conquer Boise?” he
asked. “How many of us are they sending?”

  “Ten,” the Captain replied, and then dove back into his sandwich.

  “Yeah, that should probably be plenty,” Kowalski quipped, leaning back in his chair.

  The group laughed, and then Copeland finally rubbed his forehead.

  “You serious?” he asked

  Kersey nodded. “Yep, serious on both counts,” he confirmed. “There’s a huge ammo shortage, and General Stephens discovered that Boise is one of the gun manufacturing capitals of the world. Our job is to go in, secure the factories, make contact with local survivors—”

  “If there are any,” Kowalski interrupted through a mouthful of fried meat and bread.

  Bretz clapped his friend on the back. “You know our luck Kowalski,” he declared, “there’s going to be survivors.”

  The sniper swallowed. “Hopefully they’re friendly this time,” he added.

  “Again, you know our luck,” Bretz replied, rolling his eyes.

  “Reinforcements?” Copeland asked.

  Kersey swallowed his last bite of food. “Coming on the ground,” he replied, “so realistically two weeks out.”

  “At least we’ll get a two-week vacation from the rebuild,” the Sergeant pointed out.

  Kowalski raised a hand. “Can we make it three weeks?” he asked. “I really don’t want to be around for the corpse removal phase of things. My job is to put them down, not pick them back up.”

  “It’s rare that I agree with Kowalski,” Copeland began, jerking a thumb at the sniper, “but I’m with him.”

  “So when do we leave?” Kowalski asked.

  Kersey sat back in his chair. “We fly out tomorrow afternoon,” he explained. “General Stephens has us set up in a hotel near the stadium, so we can get properly rested.”

  “I’m totally ordering room service,” the sniper declared.

  “Hell man, I just want to sleep for twelve hours in a soft bed and not be disturbed,” Copeland moaned, but then raised a hand. “Wait. We get our own rooms, right?” he asked.

  Kersey chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he said, “if we don’t, I’ll make sure Kowalski bunks with someone else.”

  “Gotta be my sniping buddy Wade,” Kowalski said, raising a fist. “Room service and picking off zombies from the top floor. Now that sounds relaxing.”

  “Speaking of Wade,” Copeland cut in, “you know who you want to be on this little excursion?”

  Kersey nodded. “I’ve been giving it some thought,” he said. “Need people I know can work under pressure… well, and Kowalski.”

  The group laughed, and the sniper playfully gave his Captain a middle finger before shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

  “I figure the four of us,” Kersey continued, “plus Johnson if he can be spared from the barricade here.”

  Copeland nodded. “I can arrange it,” he said. “So who else are you thinking?”

  “Wade has to be on the team for sure!” Kowalski cried, near choking as he struggled to swallow his giant mouthful. He coughed and smashed his fist into his chest, finally clearing his airway before continuing, “Can’t be the only sniper in the group.”

  “Looks like we have a vote for Wade,” Copeland said. “I’d like to bring along Dawson, Mack, and Moss.”

  Kersey nodded. “That gets us to nine.”

  Bretz raised a hand. “I don’t think Baker would forgive us if we left him behind for cleanup duty,” he suggested.

  “Last I heard he was still in the infirmary,” the Captain replied, brow furrowing.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can break him out,” the Corporal said.

  Kersey chuckled. “Just make sure to leave survivors,” he replied. “We’re kind of short-handed.”

  “No promises,” Bretz said with a grin.

  The group chuckled and sat around in a rare moment of silence, enjoying the relaxation before the chaos that lay ahead.

  END

  Up Next: The action shifts to El Paso as the massive zombie horde marches towards the unsuspecting survivors in the El Paso: Creeping Death series.