“Thank you, thank you, everyone,” he said, blowing kisses to an invisible crowd. “I have indeed found my way to the top!” He chuckled to himself and climbed up the ladder to the catwalk. He shone his flashlight along the ceiling, finally finding a small hatch and popping it open easily.
As he emerged up onto the roof, the sun blinded him for a brief moment, which sent his heart into overdrive, considering there may be a threat nearby. He scrambled up and squinted, raising his handgun just in case, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized he was alone.
He breathed a sigh of relief and headed over to his ammo bag and gun, checking to make sure everything was in one piece before moving over to the side of the roof facing the horde.
The zombies turned and screamed at him happily, reaching rotted arms in his direction.
“Yeah, you aren’t going to be so excited to see me when I start shootin’ in a minute.” He sneered, and pulled out his walkie talkie, lifting it to his lips. “Hey Leon, it’s Mathis, come in.”
“Good to hear from you,” Leon replied. “You make it to the roof okay?”
Mathis nodded. “Had a little bit of trouble and had to go through the school, but I made it,” he said.
“How did you get inside?” Leon asked.
The sniper scratched the back of his head. “Shot the glass out of one of the front doors.”
All that came through the radio was a sigh.
Mathis pursed his lips. “Hey man, it wasn’t my first choice either, but I was about five seconds away from being a fucking snack. Did what I had to do.”
“Yeah, I hear you, man,” Leon replied, sincerity in his voice. “Glad you made it safely.”
The sniper shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, I only took out the top part of the glass and I’m pretty sure I plugged it so nothing can follow me.”
“Thank god for little miracles, huh?” Leon asked.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mathis agreed. “Any word on everyone else?”
There was a slight pause. “Shit’s going down everywhere,” Leon replied with a sigh. “But you just focus on your job. Just do me a favor.”
The sniper nodded firmly. “Sure thing.”
“Set aside some ammo,” came the reply. “I get the sense we’re going to need your shot by the time the day is over.”
Mathis glanced down at his ammunition bag. “Ten-four, I got you covered.”
“Good man,” Leon commended. “Now go kill some shit.”
The sniper barked a laugh. “Yes, sir.”
He put away his radio and took a deep breath before checking his rifle and getting comfortable. He scanned the crowd of zombies through his scope, seeing a wide variety of ages and ethnicities throughout the rotted horde.
Man, this shit didn’t spare anybody, did it?
He shook his head and aimed, picking a target. The bullet went straight through the side of the corpse’s head, dropping it to the ground.
“One down,” he muttered to himself. He took his time finding his next target, knowing he needed to pace himself if he wanted to keep his sanity during the systematic cleansing of the town.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hammond and Clara headed down a neighborhood street, looking around for a vehicle to borrow. There were a few cars in driveways, but they were hoping they could find a truck.
“You’d figure being in rural Texas there would be more pickup trucks,” the Sergeant said.
Clara shrugged. “I don’t think there’s much farmland around here, and with El Paso being the closest civilization that could get pricey with the fuel in a truck.”
“I guess,” Hammond replied, rubbing his chin. “Just looks like all those stereotypes lied to me.”
The two of them reached an intersection and looked in both directions.
“I think we have a winner,” Clara said, pointing a few houses down to the right. There was a large black truck with a lift kit, bringing it several feet off of the ground.
Hammond looked down at the ostentatious vehicle and grinned. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna fuck some shit up in that thing.” He started down the middle of the road towards it, both of them keeping an eye out for zombie activity. “You know Clara, I have to admit, I’m kind of surprised you’re out here with us.”
“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as her lips turned down into a frown. “Because I’m a girl?”
The Sergeant shook his head immediately, waving his arms in front of his face. “Oh lord no,” he assured her. “You should see what Whitaker can do. Hell, I’m pretty sure she can kick my ass.”
“What is it, then?” Clara cocked her head.
He lowered his hands. “What I mean is, you’re a college kid with no formal training,” he said. “Yet, here you are, out here holding your own.”
“Well, my mother was a strong woman, and she raised me to be the same,” she explained with a shrug. “Just wouldn’t feel right to sit on the sidelines and let everyone else fight and die when I can do something about it… just don’t go expecting me to do what Whitaker can do and we’ll be good.”
Hammond chuckled, running a hand over his head. “Yeah, that girl is a special one,” he admitted. “Just before we started heading this way, she fought two guys in full SWAT gear at the same time. It did not go well for them.”
“My kinda girl,” Clara replied, awe in her eyes.
They approached the truck, doing a quick sweep around opposite sides.
Hammond ducked and checked underneath. “I’m clear,” he declared.
“Clear here too,” Clara replied.
The Sergeant approached the driver’s side door and tried the handle, and to his surprise, it opened. “God I love these trusting small towns,” he said, and bent inside to pull open the bottom of the steering column. “Let me know if anything comes up.”
Clara kept a keen eye out, looking for movement. She noticed some bushes wiggling in front of the neighboring house.
“Looks like we have a couple of live ones,” she said.
Hammond paused. “Need my help?”
She shook her head. “They fell in the bushes so they’re gonna be a minute,” she replied. “Finish up what you’re doing, and we’ll take ‘em out then.”
He went back to work, and within a moment, the truck roared to life. “There we go!” he said, standing up with a smile. He glanced at the bushes as he stepped up beside his partner. “It’s your call,” he said as two zombies emerged from the leaves. “You want my help? Or do you want to take them out and I’ll give you some pointers?”
Clara pursed her lips for a moment, and then nodded. “I believe a critique would do me some good.”
The Sergeant held out his hand as if motioning her through a door he’d just opened for her.
She bent down and picked up a fallen tree branch, about the size of a baseball bat, and moved toward the shambling corpses, now moaning with arms outstretched. She stepped towards the first one with the branch extended in front of her, jabbing it directly into the zombie’s chest to drive it back into the bushes. The corpse fell ass over teakettle into the thicket, and before it even hit the ground, Clara pulled her knife and stuck it through the eye socket of the other zombie.
She pulled it out as the corpse fell in a heap at her feet, and dropped the tree branch, patiently waiting for the next creature to come back at her. It crawled out of the bushes on its hands and knees, and she lunged down, stabbing it in the back of the head.
She turned with a flourish, even giving a curtsey as Hammond clapped for her.
“Very impressive,” he said with a smile. “Nice use of the terrain, good improvisation with the tree branch.” He raised a finger. “Only suggestion I would make is that instead of sending one back into the bushes, you could have forced them both back by ramming one into the other. Even if you’re ready for them, those things are deadlier on their feet than on the ground.”
Clara nodded. “Noted. I’ll do that in the future.”
“A few
more lessons and Whitaker might have some competition,” the Sergeant said, and they shared a laugh before he motioned for her to follow him to the truck. “Come on, we’ve got some shopping to do.”
They hopped up into the high truck, and headed off towards the grocery store. It didn’t look worse for wear, with the front doors shut and the windows intact.
“I’m kind of surprised this place is still standing,” Hammond mused. “Would have thought the locals would have cleaned it out.”
“It may have hit so quick that there wasn’t time,” she suggested. “Leon has been talking to the people in the high school, and they said that they barely made it there after having left at the first sign of trouble.”
The Sergeant pulled out his handgun. “Of course, the other alternative is that the store owner locked himself up in there.”
“I was never much of a fan of company before the apocalypse,” Clara admitted, following his lead and drawing her own gun. “Even less so, now.”
Hammond reached out for the door and gave it a tug, finding it locked. He dropped to one knee and pulled out his lock picking tools. She kept watch for him, and then turned when she heard the click as he opened the door.
“Stay close,” Hammond said, and pulled out his flashlight. He held it up next to his handgun before moving carefully inside. Clara followed him, gently closing the door behind them, locking the deadbolt to make sure there were no surprises.
The grocery store was dark, with no power and very little light coming in from the skylights, that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. Hammond led them across the aisles, pausing at each one to make sure that they were empty. As he approached the last one, he heard a scuffling noise, and he held up his hand to motion for Clara to stop.
The Sergeant darted around the corner, gun high, and immediately popped off two shots into the oncoming duo of zombies ambling towards him.
“What, you didn’t want to critique my shooting?” Clara joked.
He shrugged and smiled. “You’re a Texan, I assumed you already knew how to shoot.”
“Fair assumption,” she replied.
Hammond kept his guard up as he walked down the aisle, making sure the creatures were, indeed, dead. He gave them a good kick to make sure before looking around to make sure that they were alone in the store. There were no other sounds echoing around.
He finally holstered his gun. “Come on, let’s find the toys.”
They rushed through the store, finally finding the toy aisle. Hammond shone his flashlight on them, scanning everything until they found giant super soaker type guns.
Clara grinned. “Jackpot.” She began pulling them down from the rack.
Hammond caught them, ripping the packaging off.
Clara made a noise of satisfaction as she inspected the sixth and final one. “Nice, they sprang for the deluxe model, we get an extra water carrier.”
“Or in our case, kerosene,” the Sergeant added. “Come on, we need to grab some steel wool then head out. Still gotta hit the gas station.”
They loaded up and headed back outside, and paused briefly at the sound of gunfire in the distance.
“Doesn’t sound like they’re wasting any time,” Clara said.
Hammond nodded. “Let’s get a move on.”
They hopped into the truck and he sped down the street, peeling out with the massive tires. She looked down one of the side streets towards the school, and her eyes widened.
“Holy hell,” she breathed as she gaped at the road packed with zombies. “It looks like they got the entire horde moving.”
Hammond shook his head. “Let’s hope not.”
It was only a few moments before they reached the gas station, and they hopped out as soon as the truck was in park. The Sergeant rushed inside to flip on the generator while Clara manned the pump.
“Got it!” she called as it sprang to life, and she carefully began filling up every tank on each gun, taking care to fill every one right up to the top. She knew they’d need every single drop in order to succeed.
Hammond exited the gas station carrying a spare gas can, and a few bottles of water. He handed one to Clara and she smiled as she took it.
“If you’d like, I can get you a soda instead,” the Sergeant motioned over his shoulder.
She wrinkled her nose. “Luke warm soda?” She shuddered. “I appreciate the thought, but no, I think this will do just fine.”
There was more gunfire in the distance, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Don’t worry,” Hammond said gently, noticing the worried expression on her face, “there’s going to be a lot of gunfire today.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just more than I expected.”
“If I’m being truthful, me too,” he replied, and pulled out his radio. “Hey Leon, come in. It’s Sergeant Hammond.”
Leon came back almost immediately. “Please tell me you are ready to roll?”
Hammond cocked his head to check how far the gas can was filling, and then nodded. “We’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he reported. “How’s the fire team?”
“In need of a little fucking backup, ASAP,” Leon replied. “They bit off a little more than they can chew.”
The Sergeant took a deep breath. “We can hear the gunfire from here, we were thinking the same thing.” He pulled out his crude map, unfolding it. “Which house are they in?”
“A block back of the initial house,” Leon said.
Hammond drew his finger along the pencil. “Pretty sure I can figure out how to get us there.”
“Yep, just get to the right street and follow the zombies,” Leon retorted.
The Sergeant nodded to Clara as she finished filling the gas can. “Let them know we’ll be incoming,” he said. “Last thing I want is for Landry to accidentally shoot me.”
Leon chuckled. “Ten-four, Sergeant,” he replied. “I’ll let ‘em know.”
Hammond put the radio away and picked up one of the full water guns. He jammed a pencil into the end of it, and then stuck a piece of steel wool on the end of that. He dunked it in some of the kerosene, and then set it ablaze. It glowed red-hot, and he stepped away from the vehicle to squirt the gun.
A string of flame spread out across ten feet, the liquid fuel spraying through the steel wool and scattering everywhere. He grinned and turned around, handing Clara the weapon.
“Watch yourself on the splash back, but other than that it works great,” he said, and began to get into the truck.
She raised a hand. “Hang on, I still have four more containers to fill up.”
“We’ll have to come back for them,” the Sergeant said. “They need our help now.”
She nodded and hopped up into the back of the truck, loading up the rest of what was full. Before he got into the truck, he held out his lighter.
“Don’t lose that,” he said. “It’s got some sentimental value.”
Clara inclined her head to him with a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hundreds of zombies were packed around the front of the small home like sardines as a constant stream of gunfire erupted from the windows. Landry, Trenton and Reed manned them, firing at point blank range as the zombies pressed against it.
The bay window in the front living room shattered under the weight of the creatures, and they toppled inside, tripping over one another.
“They’re inside!” Trenton screamed, and all three men broke away from their stations to focus on the breach.
Landry quickly shot the few that had fallen in, and Trenton took the ones in the window still scrambling to get inside. Reed rushed over to the couch and grabbed the coffee table, darting forward to press it against the zombie in the center.
It struggled to break free and get inside, but Reed shoved back, wriggling the table left and right, keeping the corpses from steady footing to get inside. Trenton fired a few more shots, creating enough of a pile of slumped over zombies as a protec
tive wall.
“Whatever we’re doing, we’d better do it quickly,” Reed demanded, holding the table up over the wall to try to plug the hole.
Landry approached and pressed his hands against the table as well to help out, and Trenton ran to the back door to peer out.
“Heard you boys could use some backup,” Hammond’s voice came through the radio.
Landry lifted his walkie talkie to his mouth. “It’s about goddamn time, Sergeant!” he snapped. “We’re about to get overrun in here!”
“Well, we’re gonna light them up from our end,” Hammond replied. “You boys may want to make your way to the exit.”
Landry tilted his head towards the back of the house. “Trenton, how are we looking?” he yelled.
Trenton studied the back window, noting the handful of zombies that had wandered around the house into the backyard.
He strode back into the living room. “If we’re going to move, we should do it now,” he declared. “Only a few of them back there, but don’t know for how long.”
“Sarge, we are on the move,” Landry said into the radio. “Light these fuckers up!”
Reed stood on his tiptoes and peered over the top of their lineup, watching Clara stand up on the back of the truck. She gave the water gun a few pumps and then unleashed a stream of liquid fire that coated a large number of zombies. The flames quickly spread, engulfing dozens.
“Holy shit we gotta move!” Reed exclaimed, and he and Landry broke away from the coffee table barrier. It fell, and zombies flopped over into the house, but the three men tore through to the back door into the yard.
The few zombies milling about immediately turned their attention towards them, and the trio quickly pulled their handguns and took them down with systematic precision.
“Come on, we gotta circle back to the school and hit the next house,” Landry said.
Reed took a deep breath. “Oh good, only ten more runs of this and we’ll be good to go.”
“That’s the spirit!” Landry grinned, and clapped him on the back. “Come on, let’s pick up the pace.”
Dead America The Third Week Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-6 ] Page 4
