Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

“What’s that?”

  “Leo wanted to make sure everyone knows he’s into you. That little show at the breakfast table? He was letting you know he wasn’t just messing around with you last night because you’re a warm body.” He sighed, eyes distant behind his glasses. “The guy is a catch. I hope you know that.”

  Cassie wondered once again if Stephenson liked girls. She knew he really tried at it, but seeing his expression now brought the question to the surface. She resisted the urge to ask him.

  “Of course I know he’s a catch.” She’d known it for years, long before she’d become reacquainted with him. “He’s a good person.”

  “So are you, though.” Stephenson’s face softened. “I’m glad he noticed. You deserve a great guy.” He turned away and walked off to stare down at an assorted case of Rice-A-Roni. “Do you think we should alphabetize everything?”

  “That’s a good idea. It will make everything easier to find. We should make an inventory, too. You know, so Nonna can see everything we have at a glance.”

  Stephenson wrinkled his nose in amusement. “This is what happens when you put the chess club in charge of supplies. We’re going to organize the crap out of this room.”

  “Heck, yeah.” Cassie grinned at him.

  They got to it. Cassie immersed herself in the project, losing herself in blissful memories of Leo’s kisses.

  Chapter 25

  Crash

  LEO THOUGHT LOSING Jim had been an all-time low point in his life. He hadn’t thought it could get worse.

  He’d been wrong. Dead fucking wrong.

  Mrs. Craig was on the ground, screaming with grief. Mr. Craig wasn’t in a much better state. Sobs of sorrow broke from the big man’s chest as he gathered his wife into his arms. Tate stood helplessly over his parents, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Jennifer had been standing beside Leo until now. She broke away and put her arms around Mrs. Craig. The older woman hugged her and cried. Leo now understood exactly why Jennifer had come. Somehow, she’d known Mrs. Craig would need another woman to lean on.

  It was crushing to watch the grief unfold before him. This was battle carnage of a different type. He wanted this day to be over. He wanted this damn war to be over.

  The worst part was knowing that, if given the choice, he’d run the Gordon Gambit again. It had been the right call. They’d delivered a major blow to the Soviets and saved a lot of people. Losing one man had been a small price to pay.

  Is this what happened to people in war? Did they all just turn into a statistic? A measure of loss versus gain?

  Unable to take it any longer, Leo looked away from the Craig family. As he did, a plume of dust caught his eye.

  A jolt went through him. What the hell? The plume of dust was close. Really close. It was the sort of plume spewed up by a car on a dirt road.

  “We have company,” Leo barked. “Tate, Jennifer, grab the horses. Mr. and Mrs. Craig, I don’t mean any disrespect, but you have to look busy.”

  Tate helped his mother to her feet while Leo and Jennifer ran to the horses.

  “Hide in the barn,” Mr. Craig called. “They never go in there. Loretta, come on, honey. We have to act normal. Tate, son, get your ass to the barn.”

  Leo and his friends hightailed it into the barn with the horses. Inside were pigs and chickens. They led the horses inside and closed the doors just as a jeep drove onto the hard-packed circle in front of the Craig farmhouse. It was close enough that Leo could see the Soviet uniforms.

  “Russians,” Tate breathed. “What are they doing here? This isn’t a scheduled pick-up day.”

  “Maybe they came early?” Jennifer suggested.

  Leo didn’t reply. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

  Mr. and Mrs. Craig had disappeared into the milk barn behind the farmhouse. To the Soviets, it would look like they were going about the daily chores required to keep a dairy farm running.

  Leo heard them clomp up the front steps and enter the farmhouse. Shortly after came the sound of breaking porcelain.

  Leo, Tate, and Jennifer waited in tense silence, listening. More sounds came from inside the house. It sounded like the Russians were knocking over furniture and ransacking the house.

  “Leo.” Tate’s voice was tense. “I won’t let them hurt my parents.”

  “Not on our watch,” Leo agreed. “Hold tight, Tate. Let’s not give ourselves away if we don’t have to.”

  Mouth tight, Tate nodded.

  A cast iron pan was thrown out the back window, sending glass shards arcing into the morning air.

  Mr. and Mrs. Craig came out of the milk barn at the same time the Russians descended the back porch steps. The couple had dried their eyes and had assumed the role of shocked homeowners.

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Craig demanded. “What are you doing to our home?”

  “We fulfilled your tithe demands yesterday,” Mrs. Craig said.

  A Russian marched toward the couple. Using the butt of his machine gun, he delivered a fierce blow to Mr. Craig’s forehead. Mrs. Craig screamed and caught her husband as he staggered back.

  “Not yet.” Leo put a restraining hand on Tate.

  “No fucking way, Leo.” Tate’s muscles were knotted under Leo’s arms. “I won’t stand by and watch this shit.”

  Leo raised his rifle and aimed through a large knothole in the barn doors. He sighted on the Russian closest to the Craigs.

  “I won’t let anything happen to your parents,” he repeated.

  “Um, Leo?” Jennifer peered through a crack in the barn door. “The fat Russian has a blue and red patch on his uniform. He’s KGB. That’s their symbol.”

  Leo’s blood ran cold. He poised his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. He could just make out the colorful patch Jennifer had described.

  “There was an attack on our troops in Hillsberg yesterday morning,” said the KGB agent. His accent was thick, but his English was clear. “What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing!” Mrs. Craig cried. “Hillsberg is miles from here. Why should we know anything about what goes on there?”

  “Do you know of a group called the Snipers?” asked the Soviet.

  “We—we know they attacked the trucks carrying our boys,” Mr. Craig said. “We’ve just heard them on the radio once or twice. Rabble rousers.”

  “They knew about our operation in Hillsberg. Someone tipped them off. There are very few people who could do this.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mrs. Craig cried. “How would we know anything about your operations?”

  “We spend all day and half the night working the farm,” Mr. Craig said. “We’re doing the work of five people to keep your troops fed.”

  “Are you spying for the Snipers?” asked the Russian. “Are you hiding them somewhere in your house?”

  “We’re not hiding anyone,” Mrs Craig said. “I swear, it’s just me and my husband.”

  “Could your sons be Snipers?”

  “Our sons are dead,” Mr. Craig said. “They were killed when the Snipers attacked those trucks.”

  The KGB agent considered the Craigs. Leo felt his blood run cold. He suddenly knew the Craigs were about to die. He rested his crosshairs on the head of the KGB agent, ready to fire.

  The rumble of an engine sounded in the distance.

  The entire scene before them shifted.

  The Russians pivoted toward the sound, every last one of them on high alert. Leo couldn’t see past them, but they now pointed their guns skyward. They all talked at once, never taking their eyes from the sky.

  A plane, Leo realized. That was the sound. There was a plane in the sky.

  Based on the alarm he saw in the Russians, he guessed the plane was unexpected. Which could only mean one thing: it was American.

  The Russians abruptly scattered, disappearing around to the front of the house. The Craigs were left and forgotten.

  Leo eased open the barn door in time to see a single plane in t
he sky. It was a small fighter plane flying straight toward them.

  From the front of the house, a rocket flew into the air. A trail of fire stained the sky. It hit the first of the American fighter planes. The impact sent a ripple across Leo’s skin. The hair on his arm stood on end.

  “No,” Jennifer whispered.

  Seconds later, a rumble went through the earth. The leaves vibrated on a nearby lemon tree. The dirt shivered beneath Leo’s feet.

  The crash was close.

  “Wait,” Leo said. “Look.” He raised a hand and pointed.

  Trailing out of the smoke of the explosion were three parachutes.

  American soldiers. They were here, and they were suspended in the sky for all the world to see. Their plane was in pieces on the ground. There was at least one group of Russians gunning for them, possibly more.

  Leo turned to the others. “We have to help them.”

  Right as he spoke, tires squealed on gravel. The tail end of the Soviet jeep disappeared up the dirt road as they drove away from the Craig house.

  Leo ducked back into the barn and threw himself onto Stealth. There wasn’t much time. All they had was home-field advantage. They could cut through the farmland and maybe, just maybe, get to the American soldiers first.

  He burst out of the barn on his horse. Jennifer was right behind him on Thunder, the big bay.

  “I’m not going,” Tate said. “I won’t leave my parents.”

  Leo nodded. In Tate’s position, he wouldn’t leave, either. “Get them back to the cabin. We’ll meet you there.” He kicked Stealth in the ribcage and galloped away from the Craig farmhouse. Jennifer was right beside him, bent over the neck of her horse with a look of pure determination on her face.

  Chapter 26

  Rescue

  LEO AND JENNIFER TORE through the Craig’s pastureland. On the edge of the property was an apple orchard. They galloped between the trees, keeping one eye on the sky. The American soldiers had nearly reached the ground.

  The wind carried one of the soldiers too far north. From what Leo knew of the surrounding land and roads, the poor bastard was on an intercept course with the Russian jeep. Poor bastard. He hoped the guy was well armed.

  There were two other parachutes. These had caught a southern wind and dropped down in the direction of the feed store on the outskirts of Westville. It was only a few miles away.

  For the sake of time, Leo cut through the orchard and hit the two-lane country road that led directly to the feed store. It was risky, but he rationalized they could get off the road if they heard any vehicles. It was the fastest way to get to the feed store.

  They passed a few houses on the way. They were spaced few and far between out here in the country. It was quiet, no sign of life anywhere. It was easy to imagine West County hadn’t been invaded by the Soviets.

  Until he saw the dead bodies. Four of them lay on the side of the road, the stench strong enough to make him gag. Vultures crouched over the carcasses, pulling out strings of meat. The sight of infected skin told Leo they were dead zombies.

  Five minutes later, the feed store came into view. The barn doors were locked and barred. Several bags of kibble were strewn across the driveway. There were bullets holes across the side wall.

  The feed store backed up to a vineyard. Leo had a clear view of the white parachute draped across the vines. He and Jennifer galloped between the rows, beelining for the parachute.

  “Hello?” He pitched his voice loud enough to carry, not wanting to draw attention of anyone—or anything—that might be around. “Hello? Are you hurt? We’re here to help.”

  A groan answered him.

  “It’s okay. We’re Americans.” Jennifer jumped off Thunder as they reached the parachute. She gathered up great armloads of the fabric, pulling it down to hide it from view.

  A man lay facedown on the ground. One side of his leg was burned, blistered skin showing beneath a singed pant leg. He groaned softly as he unclipped his parachute and got to his feet. Soot and grime smeared his face. There was a long gash in the right arm of his uniform.

  “There were two others with me,” he said.

  “One of them went too far north. The other landed nearby.” Jennifer paused to look around. “There, on the edge of the vineyard. Leo?”

  “I see him,” Leo replied. “Get him onto Thunder. I’ll meet you at the back of the feed store.”

  She nodded as Leo galloped away. Growls sounded from between the grapevines as Leo made his way to the other American soldier. Shit. Nezhit. Just what they needed right now. They must have been attracted to the sight of the parachutes dropping to the ground.

  “Jen, zombies,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Get the hell out of here!”

  The parachute billowed as the second soldier struggled free. He was dark-skinned with blood streaked on the side of his face. Leo guessed him to be Filipino.

  He drew to a stop beside the man, holding out a hand. “Get on,” he said. “We don’t have much time.”

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” The man grabbed his hand and swung onto Stealth. “I’m Spill.”

  “I’m Leo. Hold on tight. We’ve got zombies.” He kicked Stealth back into a gallop, cutting through the vineyard back toward the feed store. A chorus of barks and howls followed them. Fucking shit. Would they ever get a break?

  “Zombies,” Spill snarled over the rumble of horse hooves.

  “You’ve seen them before?”

  “Hell, yes. They’re everywhere, man. They’re the reason these Soviet bastards have maintained their toehold on American soil. Shit, there they are.”

  Two infected leap-frogged over the grapevines. Their black-veined skin looked eerie in the light of the full sun. More of them dashed beneath the vines. There was a whole pack of them headed straight for Leo and Spill.

  “Thank God they’re regular zombies,” Leo said.

  “What do mean, regular zombies?” Spill pulled out his gun and started to shoot.

  The guy probably never trained from the back of a moving horse. And the nezhit were fast fuckers. Spill missed every last zombie. Dammit.

  Stealth burst free of the vineyard. Jennifer and her soldier were already there, guns raised. Leo saw the zombies shift direction, the pack now streaming straight for the feed store.

  The horses shied nervously. Dammit. They couldn’t risk losing the horses. They were their only way home.

  “Jennifer, with me,” Leo barked, sliding down from Stealth. To the soldiers, he said, “Cover us. Whatever you do, don’t let the horses spook or get eaten. We lose them and we’re all KGB hamburger meat.”

  Jennifer jumped down from Thunder and ran toward him. “Are we playing chicken with a pack of zombies?” she screamed.

  “Do you have a better idea?” He planted his feet between two grapevines, in plain sight of the descending infected.

  He counted five. Shit. This was a bad fucking idea.

  He started shooting. He felled two with head shots. Jennifer was laying into the pack with her machine gun, but they were all torso shots. It took five bullets before she dropped one.

  “Get out of here,” Leo ordered. “Get the soldiers to safety.”

  “When the hell are you going to learn?” she fired back. To his consternation, she leaped into the air. Using her hands, she vaulted onto the wooden pylon staked at the end of the row. It was no more than five inches across, but Jennifer balanced on it easily.

  The two remaining nezhit went berserk at the sight of her. They attacked the vines, attempting to climb on top of them in an effort of reach her.

  It was the perfect distraction. The grapevines were made of thin wire, much too thin to climb on. The infected kept falling off.

  Leo fired. His first shot missed as his target jumped for the grapevine. When he hit the ground, Leo killed him.

  One left. Jennifer laid into the female zombie. Bullets ripped out of her machine gun. She might not have precision, but she made up for it with sheer volume.
Leo counted no less than twelve bullets thunk into the last zombie.

  Silence descended as the last of the infected fell.

  Leo rounded on Jennifer, glaring. “The next time I tell you to get the hell out, get the hell out.”

  “Fuck you.” Jennifer jumped to the ground, unperturbed. “I know you have some male ego fantasy about sacrificing yourself for the greater good, but that’s not happening on my watch. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Leo felt his temper flare. He reined it back. Jennifer might piss him the hell off, but she’d just saved them.

  “Come on,” he snapped. “We have to go.”

  He spun around to find the two soldiers gaping at them. Gaping at Jennifer, really. Speaking from a purely plutonic point of view, she looked fantastic in her tight jeans with the machine gun slung over her shoulder. The two soldiers looked like they both wanted to give her babies on the spot. Jennifer always had that effect on guys, even before she started carrying a Soviet-issued weapon.

  “Who are you guys?” Spill asked.

  “I’m Chaz,” said the other solider. “You guys look like high school kids.”

  Jennifer snorted and returned to her horse. “We graduated almost three years ago.”

  Leo jerked his thumb in hasty introductions. “That’s Jennifer. I’m Leo. We’re part of a group called the Snipers.”

  “Wait. Did you just say you’re with the Snipers?” Spill and Chaz stared at him with twin expressions of incredulity.

  Leo swung back on to his horse. “Yeah. You’ve heard of us?” For some reason, that gave him a sense of pride.

  “We listen to Deejay Sniper,” Spill said.

  “That’s our friend,” Jennifer said. “He sends out broadcasts to the people.”

  “We were sent here to find you guys,” Spill said.

  “Looks like we found you. We gotta go before the Russians get here. The only reason they haven’t found us is because these back country roads are a maze.” Leo heeled Stealth back toward the road. The two horses broke into a trot.

  “Why were you sent to find us?” Jennifer asked.

  “We have information from the American government,” Spill said. “We need your help with a mission.”