Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

  Their parents had loved Farmshed Bakery. It was an odd memory to hold up against the current circumstances. The family that occasionally made trips to the beach and stopped at Farmshed Bakery felt like it belonged to someone else. Cassie tried to hold a mental image of her parent’s faces, but all she saw were the bodies of the murdered girls back at the Bohemian Grove.

  They kept swimming. Cassie was numb. Her teeth chattered. Her hands felt like ice shards. The cold seemed to have permeated her entire body, lodging in her bones.

  The land rose sharply on either side of them. The current increased in flow, sucking them along.

  At first, Cassie was glad for the extra tug of the water. Moving faster meant getting out of the river sooner.

  But it also meant something else. The Russian River emptied into the Pacific Ocean. If the current was picking it up, it meant they were getting close to the river’s terminus.

  The rising land on either side of them was also a bad sign. Cassie knew the road to the beach sloped up for a few miles before it hit the ocean. That’s why the views along the ocean road were so great. Up on those tall bluffs, a person could see for miles.

  Which was nice when you were in a car. It wasn’t so nice when you had to climb them to escape the river. And they would only get taller the farther they swam.

  “Guys, we need to get out of the water,” Cassie said.

  The Pacific Ocean in Northern California was a not a friendly stretch of water. For starters, it was probably ten times colder than the river. For another, the waves were brutal and unpredictable. The last thing they wanted was to get swept out into the ocean.

  Jennifer shook her head. “It’s too soon, Cas.”

  “No.” Cassie was pretty sure their bearings were off. “The river is moving too fast. I think we’re either close or past Nicks Cove.” Nicks Cove was the last hamlet before the ocean.

  “But the bakery—”

  “Jen.” Cassie met her sister’s gaze. She knew for a fact they’d all lost track of where they were, and were now too close to the ocean. “We need to get out of the river. The farther we swim, the taller those bluffs are going to get.”

  Everyone looked at her. Leo absorbed her expression and nodded.

  “Shore time,” he said. “Come on.”

  They swam sideways, fighting the pull of the current as they headed for the bluffs. The water continued to pull them south.

  Anxiety knotted in Cassie’s chest. They’d swam too far south. There was no way they could climb the fifty-foot bluffs on either side of them.

  She reached the bluff and latched onto a large tree root. The water dragged her body sideways, trying to pull downstream. The others likewise grabbed exposed roots.

  They all stared up at the bluff, an unspoken question hanging in the air: should they attempt to climb it?

  “Too risky,” Leo said at last. “Our packs are too heavy from the water. If we try to climb, we could fall. We have to swim back upstream.”

  Chapter 38

  Upstream

  THIS WAS NOT GOING to be easy. Leo locked his fatigue away in a distant part of his mind. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

  He’d lost too much blood. He needed to get dry and take care of the knife wound.

  Soon, he told himself. As soon as they got out of the river, they’d find a place to dry off and warm up. There were homes and cabins scattered throughout the woods. They would find one of those.

  Leo turned his attention upstream. If he hadn’t been feeling like shit, he would have realized they’d gone too far. Thank God Cassie had been paying attention. It was easy to get turned around when you were in the middle of nowhere with no landmarks.

  He held tight to the tree root and pulled, simultaneously pushing against the river bottom with his boots.

  Going upstream was always five times harder than going downstream. Even though the water of the Russian River was mild in comparison to the larger, more popular rafting rivers, it was still a river.

  The water was waist-high on him. Between the pull of the river, his water-drenched clothing, and his knife wound, it took all of Leo’s strength to fight the current. He glanced back at Griggs. The man’s face was pinched with determination as he, too, fought his way upstream.

  “It’s not far,” Cassie said behind him.

  At first he thought she meant they didn’t have far to go. But looking upstream told him this was not the case. It was at least a quarter mile before the land sloped back down to give them any access to the land.

  Then he realized she was attempting to comfort him. He adored her for trying.

  “I’m so sorry, guys,” Jennifer said. “I messed up.”

  “Not your fault,” Leo replied. “I got turned around, too.”

  Step by step, they plodded their way back upstream. His hands were scraped and cut from grabbing onto the various exposed roots. His back ached from the wet backpack. His side hurt like hell. He was cold and tired and just wanted to lie down and take a nap.

  He kept one eye on the bluffs, alert for any signs of danger. They’d learned the hard way that Russians weren’t just in the towns and cities. The fuckers could be anywhere. Same with the mutants.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever escape the memory of those murdered girls. The expression on Cassie’s face had been equally soul-crushing. When she saw those girls, Leo had seen something change in her eyes. A hardness had solidified there.

  He regretted bringing her on this mission even if her presence was more than justified. Hell, she’d just prevented all of them from riding the Russian River straight into the Pacific Ocean.

  “Does anyone else think it’s ironic that we’re in the Russian River?” Cassie asked, panting for breath.

  “Why is it called that?” Spill asked.

  “The Russians built a trading fort for redwood trees along the coast,” Cassie said. “That’s why the river was named after them. I did a report on it in fifth grade. The Native Americans called it the Ashokawna River.”

  “Maybe that’s what we should start calling it,” Jennifer said bitterly. “It’s a much better name.”

  “It is,” Leo agreed. He didn’t like anything in their country being named after the damned invaders.

  God, he was tired. And cold. How much blood had he lost?

  He replayed every horror he’d witnessed since the Russians first invaded, willing it to fuel him. Lars and Adam, both teenage varsity football players turned into nezhit. His dad, also bitten and lost to them. Jim. The girls in the Grove. All the infected who had terrorized West County and were now dying off. The poor bastards who had been ruthlessly gunned down in the initial invasion.

  He willed the memories to bring his blood to a slow boil. The hatred was all he had. It gave him the strength to put one foot in front of the other.

  What seemed like hours later, the bluffs finally tapered back down to water level. Leo heaved himself out of the river, treading with heavy feet into the trees that grew up alongside the bank.

  Something touched his hand. He looked down to find Cassie’s fingers laced with his. He could barely feel her through the numbness.

  “Hold on, Leo,” she murmured. One look at her face told him she knew exactly how bad he was. He’d lost too much blood.

  “We need to build a fire,” Cassie said. A low fog clung to the landscape around them. It might be summer, but it was still chilly this close to the coast. Being soaking wet didn’t help.

  “What if the smoke is spotted?” Jennifer asked.

  Something passed between the sisters. Leo didn’t hear them speak, but he knew they were communicating all the same.

  After a long beat, Jennifer said, “We’ll keep it small. I’ll find some firewood. Spill, do you know how to build a fire?”

  “Yeah. They taught us in SERE training.”

  “Good. You guys find a clearing and I’ll be back,” Jennifer said.

  “I’ll go with you.” Spill followed her in to the trees.


  That left Leo, Cassie, Bruce, and Griggs. Cassie hurried through the trees ahead of them, pushing through thick patches of ferns and hazelnut trees to find a suitable resting place. Bruce slung an arm around Leo, supporting him as he walked.

  A hundred yards away from the river, Cassie found a clearing of redwoods. She dropped her pack and picked up a large branch, using it to rake away the larger pieces of forest debris. Griggs slumped to the ground, leaning back against a tree. Bruce lowered Leo the ground. Leo wanted to help Cassie, but he was too tired.

  A few minutes later, Jennifer and Spill bustled into the clearing with an armload of wood. Spill gathered dry pine needles into a pile and lit them with some matches. He and Jennifer fed twigs to the flames, slowly building up the fire.

  Cassie knelt in front of Leo, smoothing hair back from his face. “We have to get your shirt off so I can see your knife wound.”

  He let Cassie undo his buttons and pull off his sodden flannel shirt. Her eyes went round when she pulled the soaking bandage off his middle. He didn’t bother looking at the wound. Based on the pain, he already knew it was bad.

  “Do you know how to give stitches?” Spill asked her.

  “Umm, I took some sewing classes when I was a kid. I made a few pillows and quilts.”

  “You were too liberated to take a sewing class, weren’t you?” Leo said to Jennifer. He must be feeling like shit to be goading her, especially when she was busy building a fire to help him.

  She ignored his comment. “You’re going to have to do it, Cas,” Jennifer said. “Spill and I have to get this fire going. Bruce, keep an eye on Griggs.” The soldier was looking worse by the minute.

  “Okay.” Resolute, Cassie retrieved the first aid kit she’d brought from the cabin.

  The first thing she did was open a small orange pharmacy bottle. “Take these.” She held two pills up to his lips.

  He took the pills and swallowed them, picking up the orange bottle from the kit. The penicillin was leftover from his father’s bout with the flu last spring. Giuseppe Cecchino was printed across the pharmacy label.

  “Dad’s still looking out for me,” he mumbled.

  Cassie gave him a worried look before returning her attention to the first aid kit. She ripped open several small packets of tiny disinfectant wipes.

  He was pretty sure there was a joke to be made about this situation. For starters, Cassie had just taken his shirt off for the first time. On top of that, the disinfectant wipes looked like they were made to take care of paper cuts, not knife wounds. Life was ripe with irony.

  But Leo had never been one to crack jokes, even when he wasn’t half dead from a knife wound. He’d always been on the serious side. His mom used to call him her “serious one.” Jennifer had complained about him being too serious back in high school. Hell, that was one of the reasons she’d dumped him.

  He touched the side of Cassie’s face as she worked on his side, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. He didn’t think she minded his serious side.

  “I hope you’re ready to be stitched up by an amateur.” She returned his touch with a soft one of her own. “It will leave a scar.”

  All he cared about was surviving the next fifteen minutes. “Stitch me up, Cassie.”

  Lips pursed, she nodded and got to work. He closed his eyes, fatigue threatening to pull him under.

  The first sting of the needle brought his eyes flying open. After the pain of the knife wound, he hadn’t expected a tiny needle to hurt. He’d been wrong.

  At least it helped him stay awake. He knew falling asleep from blood loss could be fatal. He had to fight to stay awake as long as possible.

  He dug his fingers into the dirt as Cassie sewed, grinding his teeth against the sting.

  “You okay?” She paused only long enough to look up at him.

  “Fine,” he said between gritted teeth.

  Twenty minutes later, Cassie tied off the thread. Spill and Jennifer had a raging fire. Leo sagged against his tree with relief.

  “You need to get closer to the flames.” Cassie took his hand and helped him to his feet.

  He let her lead him up to the edge of the fire. She sat down cross-legged and pulled him down beside her.

  “Lay down,” she said. “Rest. We’ll keep watch.”

  Leo didn’t argue. He pillowed his head in her lap. The last thing he registered before passing out was the feeling of her fingers in his hair.

  Chapter 39

  To Die A Hero

  CASSIE COMBED HER FINGERS through Leo’s hair, letting the warmth of the fire sink into her. The heat of the flames reached her through her wet shirt. Part of her shirt had already dried, as had Leo’s hair. When she ran a hand down his ribcage, his skin was warm. She took that as a good sign.

  Bruce was on the other side of the flames, periodically feeding wood into the fire to keep it going. Jennifer had opened up all the packs and spread everything out to dry. Spill was checking all the weapons and cleaning them.

  Griggs sat cross-legged on Cassie’s other side, pulling pine needles off a branch and flicking them into he flames. He and Spill kept exchanging looks.

  The solider was starting to scare her. The infected veins had spread quickly. They now inched their way over his jaw. How much longer before he turned? She glanced over at a machine gun, wondering if they would have to use it to put him down.

  Put him down. Like Griggs was an animal. She despised the Russians for doing this to them, for making them hurt people they knew and loved.

  “Now what?” Cassie’s voice was dry and raspy. She realized the others hadn’t heard her. She cleared her throat and tried gain. “Now what?”

  Jennifer’s eyes flicked up. “We warm up and rest, Cass. We wait for Leo to wake up.”

  “I know that part,” Cassie replied. “I mean, how are we going to get to Luma?”

  She’d been working through options in her mind for the last ten minutes. Assuming they found their way out of the woods, they could travel by car, bike, foot, or boat.

  “We need to eat.” Jennifer retrieved some of the food Nonna had packed for them, which consisted of dried venison and two loaves of bread. Luckily, Nonna had packed all the food in Ziplocs so it was all dry.

  Jennifer tore the loaves into chunks and passed them around with the venison jerky. Cassie realized she was ravenous. She dug into the food, inhaling it.

  The sun was fully up by the time they finished eating. She guessed it was seven or eight in the morning. They needed to get to Luma, but all Cassie really wanted to do was stay by the warm fire and hold Leo.

  Jennifer sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “How’s he doing?”

  “Better.” Cassie ran another hand over his ribcage. “He’s warm. And his color looks better, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.” Jennifer eyed Cassie’s stitches across Leo’s waist.

  “It’s going to leave a scar,” Cassie said.

  “Leo won’t care. It’ll make him think of you every time he sees it. He’ll like that. He’s sentimental that way.”

  It struck Cassie that Jennifer knew Leo a lot better than she did. She sighed to herself. She supposed she should be jealous, but she wasn’t. Leo didn’t look at Jennifer the way he looked at her.

  “I want to tell you something,” Jennifer said. “Something I should have told you years ago.”

  “What’s that?” Cassie returned her hands to Leo’s hair, staring into the flames.

  “Do you remember that time I forgot my grips for the parallel bars at home?”

  “Not really. You forgot stuff all the time.”

  “That’s true. I’m talking about that time Mom dropped both of us at the gymnastics club because she had to get her hair done. It was a Saturday morning and you had to miss your favorite cartoons because she didn’t want to leave you home alone.”

  Cassie wrinkled her brow. “Wasn’t I, like, six years old?”

  “Seven,” Jennifer replied. “You
were in second grade. Anyway, when I realized I’d forgotten my grips, you took it upon yourself to go home and get them.”

  Now Cassie remembered. “Oh, yeah. I got lost. I wandered around for hours and ended up at the library. I had to beg the librarian for a quarter so I could call home on the payphone. Mom was really mad at me.”

  Silence fell between the sisters. Cassie wondered why Jennifer was bringing up this particular memory. It wasn’t a shining one as far as Cassie was concerned.

  “I never said thank you for giving a shit.” Jennifer stared at the flames as she spoke. “You were only seven, but you loved me enough to walk out of the gymnastics club to go home and get my grips.”

  “You’re my sister,” Cassie said.

  Jennifer turned to her. Cassie was surprised to find her blinking wet eyes. “You are the best little sister a girl could have. I love you, Cas. I just want to tell you that in case ... in case, well, you know.”

  Cassie did know. “In case we die.” She let out a long exhale. “I love you, too.” It felt good to say it, just in case.

  Jennifer returned her gaze to the fire. “I thought we were all going to die at the Bohemian Grove. I really did.”

  “Me, too.” Cassie did her best to block out the memory of the screaming Soviets, the feasting mutants, and the dead girls. She wanted to bury memories of that night at the bottom of a deep well.

  “It’s time,” Spill said.

  Cassie and Jennifer looked up from their conversation, but Spill wasn’t talking to them. His gaze was fixed on Griggs.

  “It’s time, Griggs.”

  “No way. Not like this.” Griggs stood up, angrily shaking out his arms and stomping up and down in front of the fire. “I want to take some Soviet assholes out with me.” He was sweating profusely. The edges of his irises were tinged with red. “I want to help blow up the bridge. At least give me that.”

  Spill didn’t move from his spot on the ground, but Cassie saw his hand stray to his weapon. She swallowed, her hands tightening on Leo. Bruce inched a little closer to them. Jennifer shifted onto the balls of her feet, looking ready to pounce if necessary.