Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

  The government wanted their help? Leo exchanged a look with Jennifer.

  "Things must be really shitty if the government wants our help,” he said.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Chaz said. “The Russians targeted major cities in every state. They chartered planes and dropped live zombies out the back with parachutes. The infection spread like wildfire. Our forces—the ones still alive—are building and maintaining lines to hold back the undead. We have very little manpower left to fight Russians.”

  Leo felt his stomach sink into his feet.

  “That’s not all,” Spill said. “The Soviets have occupied all the land between Los Angeles and the Washington border.”

  Leo wasn’t sure how to digest this information. It was a lot to take in. He’d known things were shitty. He just hadn’t realized how shitty.

  “Tell us what’s going on here,” Spill said.

  Where to start? Leo gave them an abbreviated version of the invasion and how the Russians were currently rounding people up to spread the infection.

  “We have someone with us who speaks Russian,” he said “The virus is supposed to kill a person in seven to ten days. Some of them die off before that. But until they do, their sole desire is to infect as many people as possible.”

  “It’s an effective way to clear out land you want to take over,” Chaz said bitterly.

  “Faster and more effective than a concentration camp,” Spill added. “You have to take us to your leader. Things are about to get worse if we don’t get help.”

  Again, Jennifer and Leo exchanged looks. Before either of them could say anything, the rumble of a car engine reached their ears.

  Chapter 27

  Airstream

  “GET OFF THE ROAD!” Leo guided Stealth through a thick clump of oleander bushes lining the side of the highway. As they pushed to the other side, he spotted the McAlister’s house. They were the elderly couple who used to own the feed store before they sold it and retired. Their sprawling ranch home was no more than a hundred yards away down a gravel road.

  “Come on,” he said. “We need to get out of sight.”

  The drapes of the McAlister’s house were drawn, making the house look deserted. Leo didn’t relish the idea of breaking in. He hoped the McAlisters were okay, but if they’d been turned into zombies, he didn’t relish the thought of having another fight on their hands.

  “The garage is over there.” Jennifer pointed to a large, detached building with an oversized roll-up door that looked as though it had been built to house a motor home.

  “Good idea. Come on.” They could hide in there with the horses until the Soviets had passed.

  They reached the back door of the garage. It was locked. Spill threw his shoulder into it a few times. He was a big guy, tall and wide and well-muscled. The door broke open under his force. Leo would have liked to have this guy on his defensive line.

  The sound of the approaching car made Leo’s back go rigid. He hurried to the edge of the garage, peering around the corner toward the road.

  A familiar jeep drove into sight. It was the KGB agent and his pack of assholes from the Craig farm. And they had the third American soldier in the jeep, bound and gagged in the back seat.

  “Griggs.” Chaz breathed the name. Leo hadn’t even realized the man was standing behind him. “The fuckers got him.”

  To Leo’s horror, the Russians turned into the McAlister’s driveway and stopped in front of the house. They were probably checking every house on this road in hopes of finding Spill and Chaz. They knew the other two parachuters were out here somewhere.

  “They’re looking for us,” Chaz said grimly.

  “No shit. Come on, let’s get inside.”

  Leo and Chaz hustled into the garage. Jennifer and Spill already had the horses inside. Leo closed the door behind them.

  There was a shiny Airstream inside. It gleamed even in the gloom of the garage. The McAlisters must have bought it when they retired from the feed store. There were also two regular cars inside the garage, a brown station wagon and a blue sedan.

  Leo hurried over to a dirty window that overlooked the front yard. It was covered with grime and spider webs.

  Jennifer joined him, the two of them pressed shoulder to shoulder. Three Russians exited the jeep. The fourth one stayed behind to guard the prisoner. He took up position just outside the vehicle, scanning the road. The KGB agent lit a cigarette and strolled around the driveway.

  “Why did you come after us?” Spill whispered. “You had to know the risks.”

  “We couldn’t leave you guys to be captured by the KGB,” Jennifer said.

  The Russians fanned out around the house. For the moment, their attention wasn’t on the garage.

  “Jen.” Leo jerked his chin toward the back of the garage. To the soldiers, he said, “You guys keep watch.”

  Spill nodded, maintaining his position at the window. Chaz took up position on the other side of the garage door, watching from a second window that was even dirtier than the first.

  “Did you see how they just took orders from you?” Jennifer whispered.

  “They want to live.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He did know. These were real soldiers, not kids playing at being soldiers. And they’d taken his orders without a second thought. It must be his football captain voice.

  He and Jennifer crept to the back of the garage. Leo’s mind worked fast.

  Sooner or later, the Russians were going to check the garage. They would see the door had been broken open. They were either going to have to fight their way out of this situation, or come up with a plan.

  That’s when he heard the growl.

  They froze. The growl came a second time.

  Slowly, Leo and Jennifer turned in the direction of the Airstream. For the first time, he saw past the gleaming, spotless exterior.

  He saw the window on the side. A window smeared with blood. And he saw bloody footprints on the garage floor leading to the motorhome.

  There was a zombie inside the Airstream. One of the McAlisters.

  It was a measure of the situation that he actually perked up at the realization there was a zombie in the garage with them. They just might be able to use this to their advantage.

  The Russians might have a vaccine to protect them from zombies, but that didn’t mean zombies weren’t an x-factor. They might cause just enough of a distraction to help them get away.

  He felt like an asshole for using the McAlisters, but he whispered a plan into Jennifer’s ear anyway. To his surprise, she nodded eagerly. Probably because his plan involved her risking her life.

  Jennifer backed up and took a running start. Her foot hit the Airstream’s front tire. She leaped, grabbing the top rim of the windshield. She secured a grip, digging her nails into the rim. She slung one leg sideways and easily scrambled the rest of the way onto the motorhome.

  She hadn’t made much noise, but the zombie inside went berserk. He threw himself at the front windshield.

  Spill and Chaz gaped in their direction. At Leo’s gesture, they fell back from the windows, scurrying for cover as shouts came from outside. They grabbed the horses and hid on the far side of the garage behind the station wagon.

  Leo stayed near Jennifer, ready with his machine gun if shit went sideways. Licking her lips, she dropped to her stomach and pounded with both fists against the windshield.

  The howls intensified within the Airstream. Leo realized Mr. McAlister wasn’t alone inside. Mrs. McAlister was with him. A crack appeared in the glass as the couple beat at the windshield.

  Leo had a fleeting look at the two zombies. Even under the mass of infected black veins and blood, he recognized the elderly couple. They must have hidden in the Airstream, possibly planning to make a getaway in the vehicle before they both got sick and turned.

  Now they were going ballistic inside the Airstream. The front windshield shattered outward. Leo had just enough time to dash out
of sight as the two zombies hurtled free of the Airstream. They landed inside the garage and immediately began to circle the motorhome.

  Leo hid near the front tire of the neighboring car, crouching down so he could look through the window to see what was happening on the other side.

  Jennifer was separated from the rest of them. Shit. That had not been part of the plan. He’d just wanted her to rile them up enough to draw the attention of the Russians so they could get away.

  Just to make things worse, they weren’t regular zombies. They were mutant zombies.

  Mr. McAlister had an enlarged neck and chest. One side had grown larger than the other, causing his shoulders to be off-kilter. His gray hair was streaked with blood.

  Mrs. McAlister had one enlarged leg. The thigh and calf muscles had grown so large the pants had ripped. They hung in tatters. One cheekbone on her face was also distended. Coupled with her teased gray hair, she was most definitely the scarier of the two.

  Mr. McAlister charged the Airstream. He hit the side of it so hard he left a dent. Jennifer scurried to the center of the motorhome, putting as much distance between herself and the mutants as possible. Where were the damn Russians when they needed them?

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spill rise up from the far side of the station wagon. Leo gave a shake of his head. This was a precarious situation. One false move and they could all be zombie food.

  Mrs. McAlister took a running leap at the Airstream. She was mid-leap when the garage door burst open. Three Russians swarmed in around the motor home.

  Mrs. McAlister spun in mid-air. Her husband charged like a maddened bull.

  Leo had seen zombies interact with Russians plenty of times. They snarled and circled, but never attacked. Sometimes they even followed the Russians around and made nuisances of themselves, but that was the worst of it. Usually the Russians just shot the ones who didn’t get out of their way.

  That was all Leo had hoped for. Something to distract the Soviets. Something to draw their attention while Leo and his people slipped out the other door.

  The Russians took in the maddened zombies with cocky calm. Their gaze swept past the monsters while they scanned the garage.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  With a howl that bordered on glee, Mr. McAlister leaped on the foremost of the Russians. The monster grabbed the soldier’s head between his hands, driving it to the pavement. The soldier’s head cracked open like an egg, spilling blood and brains everywhere.

  The world seemed to stop moving. Jennifer froze in place atop the motorhome. Even the Russians were momentarily frozen in shock.

  The enormity of what he saw crashed down on Leo.

  Mutant zombies can kill Russians.

  In that split second, the female zombie reached the Russians. A second soldier went down with a scream of fear. The other Russian began to fire wildly. Bullets tore through the garage. The horses whinnied in fear.

  And still the mutant zombies kept going.

  Mr. McAlister slurped up a mouthful of brains before leaping at the next closest soldier.

  Mutant zombies can kill Russians.

  Leo regained his senses. “Jennifer, horses! Now!”

  In true Jennifer form, she completely ignored him.

  She leaped off the roof on the far side and climbed into the motor home.

  God damn her. What the hell was she thinking? Leo was torn between going after her and getting the horses.

  He decided to trust Jennifer and whatever she had planned. He was halfway to the horses when the Airstream hummed to life. A second later, Jennifer floored it. The motor home crashed right through the door. Wood and splinters flew everywhere.

  Leo reached the horses. Spill and Chaz were already mounted, waiting for him. Leo leaped on top of Stealth.

  The horses needed no urging. They whinnied and bolted toward the opening Jennifer made for them. Just before the horses burst free of the garage, Leo caught a glimpse of three dead Russians. The mutant zombies held chunks of brain matter in their hands, devouring it like starved animals.

  “Get down!” Spill bellowed, right before he opened fire on the Russian keeping watch by the car. Just as he did, the American prisoner jammed his bound feet through the side. He delivered a brutal kick to the back of the Russian’s head, throwing him off-balance.

  Spill’s first bullet took the Russian through he chest. The second shot went through his forehead.

  Jennifer tore down the driveway in the Airstream. She pulled to a stop in front of the jeep and jumped out.

  Just as she did, red bloomed on the front of Chaz’s uniform. For a few seconds, he swayed atop Thunder. Then he toppled sideways to the ground.

  Leo looked back and saw the KGB agent. He’d been hit by the Airstream and was a bloody mess, but the bastard was still alive.

  Leo jerked his horse around and started firing, gunning down the KGB agent. The bastard died in a pool of his own blood.

  “Chaz!” Jennifer grabbed the front of the uniform and shook him. Spill jumped off Stealth and joined her.

  Leo stayed on his horse. One look told him Chaz was gone. “We have to go, guys,” he said. “There could be more Soviets on the way.”

  Spill swore, then hustled over to the jeep. He cut his friend free. “Guys,” he said, “this is Griggs. Griggs, these are members of the Snipers.”

  “Get on.” Leo held out a hand to Griggs. “We’re getting the hell out of here.” He pulled the other man onto Stealth. Spill climbed on behind Jennifer.

  Leo led them away from the slaughter at a gallop. He looked back only once. He saw the mutants still crouched over the bodies of the dead Russians, feasting.

  The sight should have comforted him. Or at the very least, brought a sense of twisted satisfaction.

  Instead, it made his blood run cold.

  Chapter 28

  News

  THEY WERE A MILE FROM the Cecchino farm when Leo slowed the horses to a walk. He wanted to scout the area near his home to make sure there were no Soviets lurking nearby.

  “What—what were those things that killed the Russians?” Griggs asked. “They were like zombies, but different.” The soldier they’d rescued from the Soviet jeep had close cropped brown hair and a large nose. He’d taken a brutal beating from the Russians. His face was swollen and bloody. His nose might be broken.

  “Those were mutant zombies,” Jennifer said. “They’re stronger than regular zombies. Smarter. And ... they eat brains.”

  “Russian brains.” Leo said. This was a game changer. They’d have to keep this info close to the vest in case they could use it to their advantage down the road.

  “They eat regular brains, too,” Jennifer said softly. Leo didn’t respond.

  “We’ll keep you safe,” Griggs said to Jennifer.

  She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. “Last I checked, I was the one keeping you safe.”

  The soldier looked abashed by this.

  “She’s fiercely independent,” Leo said. “If you want to get on her good side, leave her to fend for herself.”

  “You’re not being fair,” Jennifer said. “I just want to be treated equally, not like a porcelain doll. I have a lot to contribute to this war.”

  Leo didn’t have the energy to debate the topic with her.

  “Tell me,” Griggs said. “Why are nice kids like you going around rescuing dirty thugs like us from Soviets?”

  Nice kids? That rankled, but Leo did his best to ignore it. It wasn’t Spill’s fault if he’d assumed the Snipers were a bunch of adults.

  Jennifer wasn’t about to let the comment slide. “Nice kids? Is that all you have to say about the people who rescued your asses from zombies, mutants, and Russians?”

  Leo cut in before she could get into an argument with their new allies. He wanted to fight with these guys, not against them.

  “We’ve made it our mission to protect our West County from the Russians,” Leo said. “We fight when we can. We broa
dcast important information when we can.” He paused before plunging ahead to ask his own question. “What else can you tell us about what’s going on? We haven’t had any communications from the outside world since the day of the invasion.”

  “It’s not good,” Griggs said. “Those communist bastards got us good. They seized both coastlines of the country. They sent soldiers in on Greyhound busses from Mexico and Canada. They took our communication stations. It was a large-scale, well-coordinated attack.”

  “We told you about the charter planes,” Spill said. “The nezhit infection has spread everywhere. There are a few safe zones out there, some are held by civilian forces, others by law enforcement. A few military bases have dug in and are making a stand against the infection. The majority of our forces are fighting the infected. We’ve seen some of them start to die off, but for every one that dies it seems like two more replace them. In the meantime, the Soviet bastards are getting cozy in our country.”

  “Where are you guys from?” Jennifer asked.

  “Nellis Air Force base in Nevada,” Griggs replied. “Our people are fighting a huge wave of infected that spread out from Vegas.”

  “How many of you are there?” Leo asked.

  Neither Spill nor Griggs responded. Unease prickled the base of Leo’s spine. He turned around on Thunder to look at both men.

  “How many?” he repeated.

  “A few thousand. We were over ten thousand with retirees before the infection.” Spill’s face was tight.

  Leo felt like he’d been punched in the face. Jennifer—brave, fearless Jennifer—actually paled at this statement.

  “Our commanding officer heard your broadcasts,” Spill continued. “You’re one of the few civilian guerrilla teams we know of. You happen to be in a strategic position. We were sent to enlist your help in stopping the Second Offensive.”

  This was the second time Spill said the government needed their help. Hearing it again was unsettling. All the time they’d been waging their guerrilla war, they thought they just had to hold out against the Soviets until the big guns arrived.