Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

  These fuckers are too tough, Leo thought wildly. He snatched a cleaver out of the chef’s block on the kitchen counter.

  Right as he was about to strike, Jim and the mutant rolled several times across the floor. They smashed into Leo, sending him flying into the kitchen cabinets. The cleaver clattered to the ground.

  Leo rolled onto his knees and scrambled for the knife. Jim let out a bloodcurdling scream that turned Leo’s blood to ice. He spun around in time to see the mutant seize Jim’s head with both hands. He slammed it back onto the floor. There was a dull crack audible over Jim’s cry.

  “No!” Leo leaped, cleaver swinging.

  The zombie shifted, flinging out one arm to backhand Leo. The force sent Leo back a few steps, but it wasn’t so hard that he lost his balance.

  He had a split second where he saw the wound in the side of Jim’s head. Part of his skull was caved in. The mutant zombie took one long, slow lick of the blood, like he was savoring a delicacy. At the same time, his hands dug into Jim’s hair around the wound. There was another soft crack as the mutant pulled up a part of Jim’s skull, revealing brain matter. His friend lay unresponsive on the floor.

  Leo shifted, once again poised to spring in Jim’s direction. Before he could move, the back door flew open.

  Soviets poured in, guns blazing. Jennifer grabbed Anton and tackled him to the ground behind the counter. Leo, on the other side of the room, dove for cover behind an algae-encrusted fish tank.

  As he watched, two Soviets shot several bullets into the back of the mutant’s head. The monster dropped like a sack of rocks. Jim lay limp on the floor beneath the mutant, blood spilling out of his head.

  Leo’s mind struggled to accept the situation. He couldn’t tell if Jim was dead or alive. If he was alive, it wouldn’t be for much longer, not with a head injury like that. Jim, whom he had known for his entire life. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?

  One of the Soviets advanced on Leo, pointing the barrel of a machine gun in his face. It made Leo’s blood boil. Mingled with the grief he felt when looking at Jim, it was almost more than he could bear.

  He forced himself to stay calm. This was the plan, after all. To get themselves captured. Except the plan hadn’t included one of his oldest friends getting killed.

  One of the Russians kicked at Jim’s body and said something. A ripple of laughter ran through the invaders.

  “You fuckers!” Anton tried to scramble to his feet, but Jennifer clawed him back. “That’s our friend—!”

  The Russian delivered a vicious blow with the butt of his gun to the side of Anton’s face. Jennifer latched onto Anton’s arm, keeping him from falling to the floor. She shot Leo a determined look as she half dragged him out the door.

  Cassie, Tate, and Bruce were herded into the kitchen at gunpoint. Tate had gone completely white. Even from across the room, Leo could see his hands shaking. He couldn’t peel his eyes from the unmoving, bleeding form of his older brother.

  “Jim!” Tate tried to run to his brother, but Bruce held onto him. He might be a few years younger, but he was still a tight end. He was big enough to overpower the struggling Tate.

  Leo felt his stomach convulse with emotion. This was all his fault.

  Tate let out a wordless burble of grief as Bruce hauled him out of the kitchen. Tucked in behind them was Cassie. Terrified tears streaked her cheeks. There was a smear of blood across her temple, as though she’d been hit. The three were closely followed by a Russian soldier. Leo was the last one out the door, also prodded at gunpoint.

  As soon as he was outside, his fear and grief shifted into rage. The afterimage of Jim’s dead body was burned into his brain.

  Jim would be alive if not for the invaders and their fucking nezhit virus. So would his dad and countless other people. These fuckers were going to pay for what they’d done. They were going to pay for killing Jim and everyone else.

  Chapter 18

  Five Moves

  THERE WERE OTHER SOVIETS in the street, all of them rounding up scared people. Cassie counted fifteen people, which included her friends.

  There should have been sixteen.

  Her eyes sought out Tate. He was pale with shock and grief, but only a blind man would miss the smoldering fury in his eyes.

  They were herded down the street past the body of the second mutant Cassie had seen from the open window. She had been taken down with headshots, along with all the zombies that had been with her. The Soviets hustled them around a corner to where an open truck bed waited for them. Inside were three people, all of them huddled near the back.

  The Russians shouted at them, gesturing to the truck. The order was clear. Jennifer was the first one into the truck, using her gymnastics skills to vault into the back.

  Cassie wasn’t above taking Leo’s outstretched hand when it was her turn to get inside. In fact, she was so shaky and sweaty with fear that it felt good to grab onto him. His hand was warm and solid, unlike the rest of the world around them.

  Once in the truck bed, she huddled down next to him. In light of the situation, it felt like the safest place in the world.

  She rubbed her elbow against the homemade bomb nestled in her front jeans pocket. The small munitions were stashed all over her body. They were a small comfort.

  A few Russians maintained a watch around the truck, making sure the prisoners didn’t try and make a run for it. Unless a nezhit or mutant made a nuisance of itself, the Soviets generally ignored them. They shot any that came too close to the vehicles.

  Only when the back was packed with scared people did the Russians load up. Three went into the cab of the truck. The rest followed in two convertibles, one red and one black. They kept the tops down and the weapons pointed at the prisoners.

  Try as she might, Cassie could not deny the facts:

  a) Jim Craig was dead. Jim Craig, the former-high-school-football-jock-turned-dairy-farmer was dead. His skull had been cracked open like an egg.

  b) The mutant zombie had not been content to bite and move on. Nope. Right before the Soviets charged in, Cassie had seen the monster licking at the blood around Jim’s wound.

  This was a new development. None of the regular zombies—how screwy was it that she now had two categories of zombies in her head, regular and mutant?—had ever gone for the head before. The thirty seconds Cassie had been in the kitchen had been enough for her to conclude the mutant had been intent on feasting on the brain of Jim Craig.

  c) She might be a chess player, but she had no business in a war. Jim Craig was dead because of her harebrained scheme. The Gordon Gambit? What the hell had she been thinking? Stephenson was right. She was a nerdy chess player, not a combat strategist. She’d let Leo’s compliments mess with her head.

  She felt warm pressure on her hand from Leo. He squeezed her knuckles. She knew he was trying to comfort her, but when she looked at him she saw vengeance in his eyes. He wanted retribution for Jim’s death. They all did.

  They were driven toward the center of town. Signs of the invasion were everywhere. Dead bodies. Burned houses. Abandoned cars. Broken windows. Even wandering zombies. The Russians mostly let them be, though they did shoot any that got in the way of the trucks.

  Fear was like a living thing inside of her. It made her back sweat, her throat tight, and her breath short. Watching Tate was the only thing that kept Cassie from screaming. Seeing the wild grief in his eyes was enough to anchor her. If Tate could hold himself together, so could she.

  She started a chess game in her head, playing as fast as she could. Chess would keep her sane. Chess would keep her grounded. Black pawn to c6. White pawn to g4.

  Three to five moves ahead. The really good chess players always had the next three to five moves plotted out in their head. Why should this situation be any different?

  She once again saw Jim’s smashed head. His death could be traced directly back to her plan.

  She abruptly realized that wasn’t true. This mission had been risky from
the start. America was at war. People died in war. A chess game was never won without losing some pieces. She’d been stupid not to realize that sooner. Her plan had made the best of a bad situation, but that didn’t change the fact they were at war.

  Get your head in the game, Cassie Miola, she told herself. Your friends need you.

  She shifted the chess game in her mind, imposing the board on the current situation. They were being driven east, which meant they were going to the central plaza. The high school, the only other logical place to collect a large group of people, was north.

  She saw the Hillsberg plaza as the chessboard. Five moves. First, when they got there, they had to spread out. It was the best way to maximize the destruction and give all the prisoners a chance to escape. Teams of two would be best.

  Cassie licked dry lips. The most important thing—aside from freeing those who had been captured—was destroying the Russian’s supply of the nezhit virus. Since they were bringing everyone to a central location, that likely meant the darts would be in one place. That was their second move.

  Their third move was weapons. The Cecchinos already had a generous collection of firearms weapons, but if Leo was serious about going to war against the Russians, they needed more.

  “I’m glad you creamed me in chess every time we played,” Leo murmured beside her. “It means that I know the look you get when you’re planning something. Talk to me.”

  Cassie flicked a quick look around the truck. Anton was sandwiched in front of Leo. Jennifer was sandwiched on Cassie’s other side. Tate and Bruce were also clustered close. She and Leo could talk, so long as they kept it quiet.

  “We split up in teams of two,” she whispered. “First, we set off bombs around the plaza, cause as much confusion as possible, and arm ourselves. Second, we locate the zombie virus supply and destroy it. Third, we get as many weapons as possible to take back to the cabin. Fourth ...” Her mind went inward. “We get a vehicle and get the hell out of town. We ditch it as soon as we can and get back to the bikes so we can’t be followed. Fifth, we get back to the cabin.”

  Five moves. It was a decent set up.

  Now, if only it all went off as easily as she had spelled it out. She wasn’t dumb enough to think it would. Even a lame chess player could throw a wrench into a brilliant plan with a stupid move.

  “Teams of two.” Leo gave her a nod. “We start with that. We split up and start blowing shit up.”

  “Amen to that,” Tate muttered.

  Chapter 19

  Forks

  JENNIFER POKED CASSIE in the knee to get her attention. “You’re with me. Stay close. Got it?”

  Leo opened his mouth in protest, but Jennifer silenced him with a glare. “She’s my sister. We stay together.”

  “Fine,” Leo clipped. “Just—be careful.”

  The Hillsberg plaza came into view. Cassie had spent a few lazy Saturdays here with Amanda and Stephenson. The best bakery in the county was here, along with a candy shop. The vast lawn area with trees was a great place to hang out. The three of them would sit on the grass, play chess, and gorge themselves on sugar.

  Today, the plaza was crawling with Soviets. Cassie estimated there were at least twenty of them. Vehicles surrounded the plaza. Most of them were regular cars, no doubt hot wired and stolen like the truck they were in.

  They had used delivery trucks to block three of the entrances into the plaza, leaving only one way in and out by vehicle. Cassie caught glimpses of zombies on the other side of the delivery trucks. Their barks pierced the morning air, but they didn’t breach the perimeter.

  Besides the regular vehicles, there were also two military-green jeeps with the star, sickle, and hammer spray painted on the side. Standing outside the jeeps were two soldiers armed with dart guns. Tall cartridges extended several inches from the top of the gun. Several open wooden crates sat on the ground, cartridges of red darts stacked neatly inside.

  There were at least two hundred Americans in the square, maybe more. It looked like a lot of people, but Cassie remembered that Hillsberg was a town of four thousand. That meant there were either a lot of people good at hiding, or a lot of dead people and zombies.

  The prisoners were huddled near the center of the plaza, all of them terrified and dirty and cowering. The Soviets planned to infect every last one of them with the virus.

  The situation hit Cassie with the force of a meteor. She realized the Gordon Gambit really had worked. They were in the eye of the storm. There were people to rescue and nezhit virus to destroy. This is where they needed to be to make a difference.

  Nearby, Tate snarled, “We’re going to get those fuckers.”

  “Hell yeah,” Jennifer murmured. “We are going to snipe their asses.”

  They were herded out of the truck and into the mass of people in the plaza. Soviets patrolled the perimeter, keeping their machine guns trained on the crowd. Cassie and the others stayed in a tight group, all of them clustered around Leo.

  “Groups of two,” Leo said. “Tate, you’re with me. Anton and Bruce. Jennifer and Cassie.”

  “We need a rendezvous,” Cassie whispered. “You know, in case we get separated.”

  “Soviet jeeps,” Leo said. “One of those will be our ride out of town. Remember the plan. After we attack, our priority is to take out the those crates of virus and kill these fucking Soviet assholes. Then grab every weapon you can carry and haul ass to one of those jeeps. We get out of town and back to the cabin.”

  Beside her, Jennifer squeezed Cassie’s hand. “I’m damn proud of you for being out here on the front lines.”

  Cassie wished she felt pride. All she felt was terror. She gripped her sister so hard she felt her knuckles crack.

  The sisters were assigned to the north side of the plaza. As she and Jennifer moved away from the others, it did not pass her notice that Leo had assigned them to the side with the least amount of danger. There were only five soldiers on this side.

  “Chauvinist,” Jennifer muttered. “He put us over here to try and protect us.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Cassie was glad they only had five soldiers to contend with. They were about to attack Russians, for crying out loud. “Two against five is really bad odds, Jen.” Of everyone in the group, we have the least amount of experience with guns. It all made perfect sense to Cassie.

  Jennifer actually rolled her eyes, but at least she stopped talking crap about Leo.

  Cassie eyed the soldiers. “They’re spread out. It’s going to be hard to take them all out.”

  “Not when we can get our hands on their machine guns,” Jennifer replied.

  Cassie saw the move in a flash of insight. “Forks,” she said.

  Jennifer, who had spent years hearing all about chess, instantly understood the reference. “Which pieces?”

  Forks was a chess tactic. It involved using one piece to attack two enemy pieces at the same time. With her and Jennifer working in tandem, this would be just like a good old-fashioned chess play.

  “Those two standing together on the corner,” Cassie said. “We hit them with our bombs.”

  Jennifer’s eyes flashed in approval. “Once we kill them, we grab their guns and shoot the others before they get to us.”

  “Exactly.” Cassie frowned. “Assuming our first strike is successful. What if—”

  “Now isn’t the time to overthink things, Cas. It’s a good plan. Everything will change anyway once things start blowing up. We’re just going to have to improvise. We—”

  Jennifer stiffened. Cassie followed her gaze. A Soviet strolled in their direction, staring at her sister. Cassie did not miss the way his eye flicked up and down Jennifer’s body. This was a common occurrence even before the Russian invasion.

  Jennifer hugged Cassie, doing her best to look terrified and cowed. Her cheek mashed against Cassie’s breast.

  It was a reminder that Cassie was just a hair under six feet tall. Even though they were prisoners with armed soldiers all around
them, she was jolted back to a time before war and apocalypse.

  Be glad you’re not an ape like your sister. She’d overheard their mom say that to Jennifer when they’d been on their way out to shop for Jennifer’s homecoming dress. They don’t make dresses for girls like her.

  Ironically enough, Cassie had inherited her height from their mother. Their mom was five-foot-ten. She’d always gone to great lengths to find cute flats so she wouldn’t appear taller than their dad, who was just under six foot.

  There’s nothing wrong with being tall, Mom. Cassie looks like a goddess.

  Jennifer had always been there for her, no matter what.

  At least something good would come from her superior height. Cassie bowed her head and hunched, cocooning herself around Jennifer and shielding her from the eyes of the Russian. She hoped they looked like scared girls. Cassie wondered what their mom would think if she were here.

  “Is he gone yet?” Jennifer whispered.

  “Yeah, he’s talking to another soldier now.”

  “Where are the others?”

  Cassie was forced to straighten her knees in order to see over the crowd. “Leo and Tate are in position. Anton and Bruce are almost there.”

  “Come on. We can’t make them wait for us.” Jennifer grabbed her hand and moved through the crowd, creeping steadily to the north side of the plaza.

  They stopped beside a large, marvelously intact family. Two parents and six kids, ranging from high school to elementary school. Looking at them made Cassie desperate to succeed.

  “Can you see Leo?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yeah. He just gave us a nod.”

  Jennifer once again huddled up against Cassie, using the small space between their bodies to pull out a bomb and Zippo lighter. To most people, it would look like a simple lavender sachet.

  Cassie pulled out a bomb of her own. Her hands shook. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  Jennifer looked up at her. “This is a good plan. It’s unexpected. Let’s show these assholes what happens when they mess with America.”