Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

  There were quite a few wires strung across the cab of Mr. Cecchino’s truck. The transmitter sat on the front seat. One wire disappeared into the box that used to hold the radio. The other went out the cab window to the antenna which, at the moment, lay in the back of the truck bed. The plan was for someone to hold it up in the air when it was time for the broadcast. There was yet another wire from the antenna that went down the front windshield and disappeared under the hood.

  “I could have done a better job if there’d been more to work with,” Stephenson said. “This looks like it was done by an idiot with a blindfold on.”

  “Who cares how it looks?” Lena said. “You got this whole thing set up in less than two hours. That’s radical.”

  A timid smile lit Stephenson’s face. He, Amanda, and Cassie were all seniors like Lena, but that didn’t mean they’d ever interacted much with her. Her status as Anton’s twin put her on a social status rung that was miles above the three chess club kids. She could have been popular if she hadn’t been so into the world peace and anti-nuke stuff.

  If Lena was aware or cared about any of this, she didn’t give any outward sign.

  “We need to test this out,” she said. “Dal, let’s go make a broadcast.” At Dal’s nod, she turned to Stephenson. “You should come with us to make sure everything works.”

  “Uh ...” Stephenson threw a panicked look at Amanda and Cassie.

  “We’ll go with you,” Cassie said.

  Stephenson blanched. That clearly wasn’t the help he’d been looking for. Cassie didn’t let him off the hook. This was his chance to contribute.

  “Yeah, Cassie and I will go with you,” Amanda said. She shot Stephenson a fierce frown, letting him know he wasn’t being given a choice.

  “Okay, I guess,” he muttered.

  “Any of you guys know how to use a gun?” Dal asked.

  “Um, I know the basic theory,” Amanda said. “You point at things and pull the trigger.”

  Dal and Lena exchanged looks. He had an arm around Lena’s waist. Cassie wondered how long they’d been a couple.

  “We probably won’t need to shoot anything where we’re going,” Lena said to him. “We’re taking a dirt road to that mountain over there.” She gestured in a vague northern direction toward a scattering of small mountain peaks. It was impossible to know which one she was talking about. “There’s not much of a chance that we’ll run into anyone.”

  “Yeah, so long as the Russians don’t initiate flight patrols,” Stephenson muttered.

  Cassie’s mouth went dry at the thought of getting shot to pieces by Russians in an airplane, but she kept her mouth shut. There hadn’t been any air patrols yet. She had to hope their luck held.

  Dal eyed the three of them. “We should take some of the machine guns,” he said at last.

  Fifteen minutes later, Cassie found herself seated in the back of the pick-up with Amanda, Stephenson, the antenna, and no less than three Russian-issued machine guns.

  “How do we know those things won’t go off when we hit a pot hole?” Stephenson asked.

  “The safeties are on,” Dal said from the front seat, firing up the engine. “Make sure you take them off if you need to shoot anything.” He shifted the truck into drive and started down the main dirt road they used to come and go from the cabin. Nonna waved goodbye from the porch.

  “Should we leave her alone?” Stephenson asked. “Maybe I should stay behind. You know, just in case any zombies or Russians show up.”

  Lena’s laugh carried to them from the front seat. “Nonna’s a good shot with a rifle. She’ll be fine. Besides, Leo and the others will be back soon.” She turned in the seat, looking back at them through the open cab window. “How come everyone calls you Stephenson anyway? Back in fifth grade, you went by Jeff.”

  Stephenson’s eyes widened. Cassie wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that Lena remembered they were in fifth grade together, or that she remembered his real name was Jeff. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

  “His name changed in sixth grade,” Amada supplied. “When he joined the school band. There were two other Jeffs in the class. To keep everyone from getting confused, the teacher started calling them by their last names.”

  “It stuck after that,” Cassie said. “Now everyone calls him Stephenson.”

  Lena nodded thoughtfully before turning away. Cassie and the others watched the back of her head, waiting to see if she was going to turn around and talk to them again. When she didn’t, the three of them leaned together.

  “You know we have no business being on a mission, right?” Stephenson said. “I mean, the only reason we survived Amanda’s house is because Dal and Leo saved us.”

  “I know.” Amanda wrung her hands. “We should use science terms to make ourselves sound smart so they won’t think we’re useless. We could talk about lattice and lanthanides at dinner in front of everyone.”

  “We are smart,” Cassie said, trying to be optimistic. “I think we can do this. All we have to do is keep watch and make sure the broadcasting equipment works.”

  “What do we know about keeping watch?” Stephenson countered.

  Cassie decided to apply Leo’s logic. “We just treat the situation like a chessboard. Make sure we’re always thinking three to five moves ahead—”

  “You’re the only one of us who can see that far ahead,” Amanda said. “The best we can manage is two to three moves.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Cassie said. “The point is, we’re good at seeing the big picture. We just have to do that.”

  “You want us to apply chess logic to Russian invaders and ravenous zombies?” Stephenson snorted. “You’re crazy, Cassie. It’s not even the same thing.”

  “Of course it is,” Cassie said, though secretly she wasn’t so sure. She was just trying to make her friends feel better. She played with her black knight pendant, rolling it between her fingers. If only she was as sure of herself in real life as she was on the chessboard.

  She’d be more confident if she weren’t terrified of the weapon pile at their feet. Maybe she’d ask for some shooting lessons when they got back. For all of Leo’s talk about her being a strategist, she’d feel a whole lot more useful if she knew how to use a gun.

  Dal turned off the main road, cutting through a wide meadow. As the truck bumped over the uneven ground, Stephenson nudged the machine guns with his shoe, turning them so that the barrels pointed away from the three of them. Cassie pressed her feet to the floor to keep her butt from bouncing up and down.

  “What if they throw us out?” Stephenson said. “What if they figure out we’re useless and dump us somewhere to fend for ourselves?”

  “If we get desperate, we can always offer to take care of laundry and cleaning,” Amanda said. “Even a guerrilla army needs clean clothes.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Despite his words, Stephenson didn’t sound convinced.

  Cassie understood their fears. It was hard to feel useful when confronted with the Snipers. They were like seasoned soldiers. In high school, they’d all been popular and athletic. There were a lot of reasons the chess club never hung out with the varsity kids. It was like trying to mix oil and water.

  Leo hadn’t seemed to have any doubts about her usefulness when she’d played chess with him. He’d been dead serious when he’d named her official strategist. She only hoped she could live up to his expectations.

  Cassie had secretly replayed their time over the chessboard at least 237 times in her head. She was crushing on him big time. Hell, she’d been crushing on him since freshman year. She tried not to read into the fact that he’d seemed to enjoy playing chess with her, even when she kicked his ass. She still wasn’t sure why she’d done that.

  No, that wasn’t true. She’d done it because she’d been nervous as hell and babbling like an idiot. Creaming him at chess felt like evening the field, so to speak.

  Crushing on Leo was stupid for several reasons.

&
nbsp; a) He was Jennifer’s ex.

  b) They’d probably get back together any day now. Why wouldn’t they? They were Jennifer and Leo, for crying out loud.

  c) Even if point A and B weren’t true, guys like Leo didn’t go for girls like Cassie. Period.

  d) Just because he was nice to her didn’t mean he liked her. See points A, B, and C for further clarification.

  A particularly deep pothole rammed Cassie’s back into the side of the truck. It was painful enough to jar her from her thoughts. She decided it was best to bury her crush in a deep part of her mind. That was the only sensible thing to do.

  Stephenson spoke up, thankfully diverting Cassie from thoughts of Leo.

  “I was listening to the radio with Nonna yesterday,” Stephenson said. “Did you know the Soviets are pumping out propaganda every hour? They keep saying we’re all part of New Russia, when in fact they’re rounding us up and infecting us.”

  “That’s why Dal and Lena need to make their broadcasts,” Cassie said. “They’re making sure people know the truth of what’s going on. Helping them is important work.” She leaned on this last part so they could all feel like they were making a contribution to the war effort. From the weak smiles she received, she knew they got the point.

  Dal cut over two more hills and met up with another dirt road. He turned onto it and kept driving. There were cows scattered across the rolling hillsides.

  They bumped along the dirt road for nearly an hour before Dal finally stopped the truck. He set the parking break on a tall hillside. The top was covered in dry, yellow grass. Oak trees draped the hillsides around them.

  A cow had wandered up near the top. It stared at them warily, ears flicked forward as it chewed a mouthful of grass.

  Lena got out of the truck, the Russian machine gun resting easily on her shoulder. She looked completely badass.

  “Where are we?” Cassie asked her.

  “The Cayson property,” Lena replied. “It borders our property on the north side. The owners don’t live here. They lease the land for cattle grazing.”

  Cassie jumped out of the truck and landed beside Lena. She gave the other girl her perkiest smile. “What can we do to help?”

  “We need Stephenson in the truck with Dal to make sure everything goes smoothly with the transmission,” Lena replied. “You and Amanda can each grab a gun. We’ll keep watch around the perimeter.”

  Cassie and Amanda exchanged covert looks before gingerly picking up machine guns. Or at least, they thought they were being covert.

  Lena smiled at them in amusement. “Don’t worry, I’d never fired one of these things until a few days ago, either. The recoil is nasty, but once you figure out how to compensate for it, it’s pretty easy.”

  Said the girl who had grown up hunting on a farm with her brothers, Cassie thought.

  “How about a shooting lesson while the guys get things set up?” Lena offered.

  Cassie had a mental vision of Leo standing by while she gunned down a few zombies. “That sounds great,” she said.

  Amanda said, “Um, do you guys need someone to take care of laundry? I can do that.”

  “Girls are good for more than laundry,” Lena’s said. “You need to know how to defend yourself.”

  She sounded like she’d been hanging out with Jennifer. Jen was a rabid feminist. Cassie thought she overdid it, although that never seemed to deter the hoards of guys wanting to date her.

  “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a gunslinger,” Amanda said. “I’m a science geek.”

  “Good. Then you can help Nonna make explosives when we get back to the cabin,” Lena said. “In the meantime, you can learn how to keep yourself alive. Come on.”

  Cassie pushed her shoulders back and marched resolutely after Lena. Amanda followed at a slower pace.

  Back in the truck, she heard Stephenson say, “I should have brought a stop watch. We need to keep the transmission under sixty seconds to make sure we aren’t tracked.”

  “Just use my Timex,” Dal replied, handing Stephenson the watch from his wrist. This was a bit like handing an Olympic runner a cheap pair of shoes from the thrift store, but Cassie kept this comment to herself.

  Lena took Amanda and Cassie a hundred yards down the north slope. “This is a good spot to practice,” she said. “Now, put the straps over your shoulder. That way you don’t risk losing your gun if you drop it.”

  “Like this?” Amanda asked. “Like it’s a purse?”

  “Pretty much,” Lena said. “Now, rest the butt against your hip. That will help you balance against the recoil.”

  Cassie pursed her lips in concentration as she followed Lena’s instructions. She felt like an imposter the entire time.

  She really wanted to impress Leo, but who was she kidding? Chess nerds didn’t shoot Soviet machine guns. Amanda was right. They should be doing laundry—

  Machine gun fire ripped through her ears. Bullets sprayed through the air. Several of them thudded into a large boulder fifty feet downhill.

  “Woah.” Amanda rocked back on her heels, cheeks flushed. “Did you see that?”

  “Nice.” Lena grinned at her. “Adjust your right leg back. That will give you better balance and keep your aim steady. Good, now try again.”

  Cassie watched in astonishment as Amanda opened fire a second time. This time, she took aim at an oak tree. She squealed in excitement when two of her bullets actually hit the trunk.

  “That’s it!” Lena turned to Cassie. “Your turn.”

  “Just imagine you’re shooting Soviets,” Amanda said. “It’s a lot easier that way.”

  Cassie decided to imagine she was a rook on the chessboard. Rooks always traveled in straight lines. God knew she needed all the help she could get to keep her bullets straight. She took aim at the oak tree, imaging herself as a black rook aiming for the white king.

  “Safety off,” Lena said.

  Cassie pulled the trigger. The recoil nearly threw her on her ass. Bullets rippled through the leaves of the tree, but missed the trunk altogether.

  “Adjust your stance like this.” Lena adjusted Cassie’s right leg back and pressed the butt of the gun into her hip. “There, try again. You too, Amanda.”

  Under Lena’s guidance, the two girls continued to practice. Cassie felt a thrill of exhilaration when her first bullet hit the tree.

  “I did it!” she cried.

  “Nice. Now do it again,” Lena said.

  An image of Leo’s face floated in her mind. Cassie imagined him watching her as she fired. Her next shots went right into the tree. She shifted and aimed at the boulder. Amanda let up a whoop as Cassie’s bullets thudded into the stone.

  “Awesome,” Amanda cried.

  “I knew you guys were good for more than laundry,” Lena said drily. “Try again. The more you practice, the better you’ll get.”

  The girls spent a few more minutes practicing before Dal’s tall figure appeared on the hilltop above them. “We’re ready to make the broadcast.”

  “Okay.” Lena turned to Cassie and Amanda. “Come on. We need to keep watch. Put your safeties back on so you don’t accidentally shoot anyone.”

  Chapter 13

  Decoy

  CASSIE WAS ASSIGNED to the southwest side of the hilltop. She reminded herself she wasn’t a badass like Lena just because she’d fired a machine gun half a dozen times. But maybe, just maybe, she was on her way there.

  She scanned the land. Out here, there was no sign of civilization. No sign of the Russian invasion and the zombie apocalypse, either. The few cows dotting the land were downright cute. She could almost imagine life was normal, if not for the Soviet machine gun in her hands.

  Nope, life was definitely not normal.

  Dal’s voice carried in the wind behind her. “This is Deejay Sniper, coming to you live from the Soviet invasion in West County, California.” Stephenson crouched beside Dal, the Timex gripped in both hands.

  “We have two important pieces of informati
on to relay to everyone out there,” Dal said. “First off, you all need to know the Russians have been rounding up people with the purpose to infect them with the nezhit virus ...”

  Dal had a nice radio voice. It was smooth and deep and even. It was a sharp juxtaposition to the hard facts that fell from his mouth.

  Cassie kept her attention on the land. Two hills away, she spotted a small cow crest the rise. Unlike the other animals out there, who all grazed lazily without a care in the world, this one was running.

  What the heck? She squinted, watching as the cow galloped in their direction. The thing ate up the distance like a puma. Some of the other cows lifted curious heads to watch the newcomer.

  The animal moved on all fours, but now that she was really looking at it, she realized it wasn’t a cow. It was too small. It was wiry and all-black with a misshapen hump on its back. What the hell was it? A big sheep dog?

  Her heart seized in her chest. Holy shit. That wasn’t a dog. “Guys?” She raised her machine gun, hands trembling as the full impact of the situation took hold of her. God, she was such an idiot. “There’s a mutant zombie coming this way.” Realizing she sounded like a mouse, she summoned her voice. “Guys! Mutant!”

  “What?” Stephenson shrieked. He dropped the Timex and gripped his head in terror.

  “Help me!” Cassie cried. She locked her gaze on the galloping zombie. It was less than a hundred yards away. She opened fire.

  Bullets peppered the air. She had no idea if they landed anywhere near the mutant. She aimed as best she could.

  The zombie ducked down behind a boulder. Shit.

  “Guys, help—” She spun around but forgot to take her finger off the trigger. Bullets ripped up the back bumper of the truck.

  Stephenson screamed and went down. “I’ve been shot,” he shrieked.

  Dal leaped out of the truck. With a machine gun gripped in one hand and his dark hair hanging around his face, he pretty much looked like Rambo. “Cassie, look out!”

  Cassie spun back around just in time to see the mutant hurl a rock through the air. No, not just a rock. It was a stone roughly the size of a human head. And it was coming right toward her.