Dead America The Third Week (Book 7): Dead America, El Paso Pt. 7

by Slaton, Derek

  Rufus approached her as she stared outside, brow furrowing at how still she was.

  “We got company!” the redhead suddenly barked, as she saw two men run across the street to the building on the corner across from them.

  Rufus continued his casual walk, assuming zombies, and neither Whitaker nor Landry paid much attention.

  A moment later, Sparks yelled, “Grenade!” She watched almost in slow motion as it flew through the air, and then turned towards Rufus, who stood frozen in the moment. She dove for him, barreling into his midsection and tackling him to the floor. They slid along behind a display, and she curled around him as the grenade detonated a few feet away, blowing a gaping hole in front of the building.

  She immediately lifted her head to check him over, straddling his hips as she pushed some debris back from his forehead.

  Rufus grinned. “This is worth the ringing in my ears,” he drawled.

  She rolled her eyes and playfully slapped him on the cheek.

  Bullets peppered the store, and Sparks slid off of him as Landry and Whitaker came crawling up, guns at the ready.

  “Who in the holy fuck is shooting at us?!” Landry cried.

  Whitaker waved for the gaping hole in the front of the store. “Does it really fucking matter?” she snapped. “Just start shooting back!”

  They hauled themselves up to the hole, each of them taking position on either side of it for cover. They popped out to fire, shooting across the street, but it was difficult to tell where they should be shooting aside from any broken windows.

  “Where the fuck are they?” Landry cried.

  Whitaker didn’t respond, simply stared downrange through her scope towards a shattered window as he continued to sporadically fire.

  “Come on, pop your head out,” she muttered to herself. “Come on.”

  As if he’d been summoned, a gunman popped into the window to fire again. She saw visible tattoos on a Latino face, and squeezed the trigger, sending a three-round burst into his chest and face.

  “Got one,” she declared at the satisfying display of a likely Cartel member’s exploded head.

  A torrent of bullets peppered the building again.

  “That’s great,” Landry huffed, “but what about the other six?”

  As they flattened themselves against their cover again, Rufus and Sparks crept up beside Whitaker.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Rufus said.

  She shook her head. “No! We have to take them out.”

  “Fucking why?” Rufus demanded.

  “They’re Cartel!” Whitaker snapped.

  He ran his hands through his hair, eyes wide. “How the fuck did they find us?”

  “Probably honed in on that redneck rattler explosion,” Landry said, and then put up a hand as the older man glared at him for the blame. “Hey, no judgement,” the soldier insisted. “That thing was fucking awesome.”

  “It doesn’t matter how,” Sparks cut in, “they’re here, so let’s deal with them!”

  Rufus shook his head. “Fuck that, let’s just get out of here!”

  Whitaker fired off a few more bursts. “If they followed Clara up here and find us,” she said between shots, “that town is fucked.”

  Rufus paused and then muttered a string of unintelligible curses to himself, knowing that she was right. “So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

  Sparks peeked over the top of the window display, looking at the building across from them. It was a long string of stores, all connected in the same building. She clenched her jaw, a determined look in her eyes.

  “You worry me when you get that look,” Rufus said warily.

  She pointed across the street. “Somebody’s gotta get over there and deal with them,” she said, and leaned back. “Landry, when you were on the roof, did you see access hatches everywhere?”

  “Just on the end stores,” he replied after a bout of sporadic fire.

  The redhead jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Is there a back exit to this place?”

  “Yeah, through the store room,” Landry replied between shots.

  “All right, let’s go,” Rufus said.

  Sparks shook her head. “No, I got this.”

  “You ain’t going alone,” he argued.

  “And you aren’t climbing up onto the roof,” she shot back. “Stay here and give me cover.”

  Whitaker stopped shooting. “I’ll go with you.”

  “See, I’ll be fine,” Sparks said, motioning to the soldier.

  “Landry, get Hammond on the line, tell him we’re in the shit,” Whitaker instructed. “You two worry about the ammo, Sparks and I will go into pursuit if need be.”

  Landry nodded. “On it.”

  Rufus clenched his jaw, not pleased with the setup, but he knew Sparks was right. “Fine,” he conceded, and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. “But you be safe.”

  She smiled and took off crawling next to Whitaker towards the back of the store, bullets still ripping through the building.

  Rufus took up Whitaker’s empty position, and readied his gun. “So where the hell are they?” he asked.

  “If you see a broken window, shoot at it,” Landry replied.

  The older man shrugged helplessly. “All right.” He popped off a few rounds, not sure if he hit anything or not.

  Landry slapped his communicator. “Sarge come in, we got a situation going on here.” He popped out again to shoot, and when he moved back in, Hammond came on the line.

  “What’s happening?” the Sergeant demanded.

  Landry fired again before answering, “Cartel found us and they’re none too pleased about it.”

  “Sit tight, we’re on the way,” Hammond replied immediately.

  Whitaker and Sparks made it to the store room, finally getting to their feet behind the wall protecting them from the bullets.

  “So, you got a plan?” the soldier asked.

  Sparks nodded. “Get across the street, get on the roof, get in through their roof access and fuck ‘em up.”

  “Sounds solid to me,” Whitaker replied, and opened the back door to the alley.

  They peeked outside and there were four zombies lined up at the far end, standing two by two in the narrow pathway.

  “How’s your hand to hand skills?” Whitaker asked.

  Sparks smirked and stepped out into the alleyway. “They just better be thankful we’re not in a ring.” She took off running towards the first duo, launching herself into the air. She gave them a double-knee hit, driving them both into the ground and pinning them there. She drew her knife and stabbed them both in quick succession.

  “Not bad, Sparks,” Whitaker breathed, nodding at her partner in approval. “Not bad at all.”

  The redhead threw a smirk over her shoulder and motioned for the soldier to have a turn.

  Whitaker sprinted towards the second duo, delivering a vicious straight kick to a zombie’s chest, sending it to the ground. She grabbed the other one by the shirt and slammed it into the wall, and then stabbed it in the temple before lashing down and shanking the other one in the eye.

  Sparks grinned. “Yeah, we’re gonna fuck these boys up.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The women ran to the end of the alley, stopping at the end and surveying the situation. There were no creatures in the immediate vicinity, however there was a huge horde a few blocks up working their way towards the gunfire.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Sparks said with a sigh.

  Whitaker shook her head in agreement. “Maybe five minutes, if we’re lucky.”

  “Let’s get going, then,” the redhead replied, and they broke cover, tearing for the intersection and stopping at the edge to keep out at the firefight.

  None of the Cartel attackers were out the windows, so didn’t have a vantage point to see out the direction where the duo were hiding.

  “Go,” Whitaker hissed, and they rushed across the street, taking a knee by the door on the other side.
The soldier drew her handgun, aiming it at the corner of the glass, waiting until there was sustained fire before shooting it out to cover the noise.

  The bottom portion of the door shattered from the single shot, giving them an opening to get inside. It was a knick-knack store, filled with gaudy crosses and live, laugh, love type of inspirational signs painted on reclaimed wood. Both women cringed as they moved through the space.

  “Christ, it’s like a big-haired Dallas woman exploded in here,” Sparks said, wrinkling her nose.

  Whitaker nodded. “Definitely not taking any souvenirs back to the house,” she agreed.

  They moved swiftly to the back of the store, remaining vigilant in the case of a trapped zombie, but there were none. As they entered the back store room, there was a ladder in the corner leading up to the roof access panel.

  Whitaker rushed over and leapt onto the ladder, climbing up quickly with Sparks close behind. She threw open the hatch and clambered up onto the roof.

  The gunfight raged below as they ran across to the other hatch. Sparks grabbed onto the handle as Whitaker aimed her rifle, and the soldier nodded, prompting the redhead to throw it open.

  Whitaker leapt forward, but there was just a darkened store room below. “I think we’re good,” she said, and slid down the short ladder onto a stack of boxes at the base. She hopped silently down to the floor, and waited for Sparks to join her before they crept to the store room door, opening it silently.

  They were upstairs overlooking a General Store type showroom, with a variety of goods like t-shirts, candy, and various gifts. Whitaker studied the area and saw that there were four men by the windows engaged in a gunfight with her friends. She pulled the door closed quietly.

  “Four by the front window in two-by-two formation,” she reported in a low voice. “How do you want to play it?”

  Sparks pointed to the rifle. “You a good shot with that?”

  “Better than most.” Whitaker shrugged.

  “Good enough for me,” the redhead replied. “Let me get down there and you can provide me some cover as I start taking them out.”

  Whitaker raised an eyebrow. “Four on one?”

  “I know, they’re at a disadvantage,” Sparks replied with a dramatic sigh, “but it’s not my fault they only brought four men.”

  The soldier cracked a smile and shook her head. “Which side you starting on?” she asked.

  Sparks opened the door and looked out, seeing a square checkout area in the center of the room. “Center, actually,” she said, pointing. “You start shooting, draw them back towards you, and then I get ‘em from behind.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Whitaker agreed.

  They exchanged a fist bump before Sparks snuck out of the room. Rather than walk down the stairs, she slid underneath the railing and dropped to the floor on light feet, remaining low as she crept to the checkout desk.

  She got into position, and gave Whitaker a thumbs up. The soldier took aim at the two Cartel members on the left, and squeezed the trigger. The three-round burst wasn’t terribly accurate, with only one bullet catching a gunman in the shoulder.

  His partner turned and saw her, raising his gun to open fire and force her back into the store room. He barked commands in Spanish, and one of the men from the other duo broke his position at the front, moving towards the back stairs.

  Whitaker popped back up to shoot, but there was a torrent of gunfire from the Cartel as they worked their way back towards her, the wounded man and his buddy still firing at Landry and Rufus.

  Sparks lay in wait as they moved. She could hear their gunfire getting closer and closer to her. With her handgun in one hand, her other ready to strike at whoever came into view first. She took a deep breath as they approached her at the exact same time.

  She kept her back flat against the counter, remaining out of sight as best she could. She watched as the two of them continued to unload their guns in Whitaker’s direction. When they were a couple feet past her, she popped up quickly, and squeezed off a round into the man to the right.

  He dropped to the floor, and the other man reacted much faster than she’d expected, and she knew she wouldn’t make the shot. She dove for the ground as bullets whizzed by her head, and she fired through the counter from the floor, forcing the man to flee. She followed the trail of muzzle flashes as he ran for the back wall.

  Whitaker peeked out from cover, locking eyes with Sparks, how motioned that the man was directly below her. The soldier crept out onto the stairs, and then leaned over the railing, firing a three-round burst into the top of the man’s head.

  The wounded gunman from the window tried to fire at her, but missed badly. The shots were enough to get Whitaker to leap off of the stairs, and she slid to a stop on the ground below, gun clattering to the floor.

  The non-wounded gunman rattled off something in Spanish and broke away from his post, firing towards Sparks’ position.

  The wood splintered all around her, and she crawled away, as flat as she could get along the floor. Whitaker grabbed her rifle and popped up, opening fire, sending a few three-round bursts in the man’s direction. She missed wild due to the displays everywhere, skewing her perception of where he’d been standing.

  However, this gave Sparks the distraction she needed to sneak out the left side of the register area and flank him. He was down on one knee behind a clothing display, and she readied her handgun before leaping, sliding on her side along the floor until she appeared next to him, putting several bullets into the side of him.

  He flopped over, gasping from the sounds peppering his side, a pool of blood growing beneath him.

  The wounded man in the window fired in Sparks’ direction, but between the pain and his panic, he didn’t know where she was. The redhead remained down while he fired, which didn’t last long as Whitaker came up the right side of the room and unloaded several rounds into his chest.

  “Clear!” she barked. “You okay?”

  Sparks laughed, peeling herself off of the floor. “Living the dream,” she grunted as she got to her feet. “You?”

  Whitaker grinned and walked up to the window carefully, remaining low so she wouldn’t get hit with friendly fire. “Landry, we’re clear!” she yelled. “Stop fucking shooting at us!”

  The women shared a confused glance as they still heard gunfire, and the soldier peeked out towards the gun store. She didn’t see any flashes coming from inside, but the torrent of gunfire continued.

  “More in the store next to us,” Whitaker said, and then the wall next to her exploded.

  The women ducked down, tumbling to the ground. Sparks lost her handgun sliding under a display, and fell into a crouch as three men came through the hole in the wall. She rushed towards them from the side, focusing on the largest of the three in the back of the formation.

  As she ran, she grabbed a glass jar of gum balls off of a display table before leaping up and delivering a vicious strike with it to the side of the man’s head. The force of the blow shattered the container, sending glass shards and colorful balls everywhere.

  He fell to the floor, clutching his head as she rolled away and ducked behind another display. The other two quickly turned and aimed, but didn’t see where she’d gone in the less than ideal lighting conditions and how quickly she’d moved.

  As their friend shook off the injury, the two standing gunmen turned their attention towards Whitaker, who popped up to take aim at them. She fired a single round, catching the leader in the face and dropping him immediately. She dropped back down into cover as the other man panic-fired in her direction.

  The wounded man got back to his feet, enraged as he tore bits of glass from his scalp. He moved towards the direction Sparks had rolled, muttering under his breath in Spanish. He threw back a clothing display, aiming down, but there was nothing behind it. Before he could turn, she came in from beside him, delivering a flying two-footed kick to the side of his knee.

  He buckled, groaning as his leg bent at a
horrific angle, and turned, rage blazing in his eyes as he fought through the pain to tower over her. The kick had made her hit the ground, and she scrabbled to get back to her feet. He reached down and grabbed her ankle, dragging her towards him, and she booted him in the groin with her free foot.

  He doubled over in pain, and she kicked upwards, cracking him right in the chin and sending him staggering back. Sparks managed to get to her feet just as the giant Cartel member recovered from the two blows. He shook his head as if to clear it, and she took the opportunity to run forward, leaping up into the air to aim a knee blast at his face.

  He caught her, spun, and used the momentum of the kick to throw her back, slamming her hard into the ground. He stomped over as she laid unmoving, the wind seemingly knocked out of her. He planted one foot on either side of her and reached down to grab her by the hair, but she suddenly whipped out her knife and drove it straight down through the top of his foot.

  He let out a blood-curdling scream, staring with horror at the hilt pinning his limb to the floor. Sparks grabbed a large shard of broken glass and got to her feet, just as he lashed out and grabbed her by the throat, picking her up off of the ground.

  She jammed the glass into his wrist, running it up his arm to his elbow, slicing through enough nerves for him to lose his grip on her slender neck. She landed on her feet and pounced up, driving the shard into his throat and tearing it out the side, slicing out a good chunk of his tender flesh.

  His eyes widened and then he fell to the floor as his jugular spewed crimson.

  In the meantime, Whitaker and her own opponent were playing hide and seek along the ground of the store behind different displays. They moved from cover to cover, trying to get a read on their opponent.

  As Whitaker moved, she heard footsteps close by, and leapt out to aim and fire. They bumped into each other and the shot went off close to their heads, partially deafening both of them. They grabbed a hold of each other’s guns, and a struggle ensued, each of them trying to wrench the weapon from their attacker.