Zion rushed over and gave the first zombie a hard shoulder hit before kicking the other one back. He tossed his weapon down the street away from the wall before running over to the man on the ground.
“Get ready to run!” he cried, and wrapped his hand around the gunman’s collar. He dragged him back with a hard jerk, using every bit of his strength to get him clear of the barrier as it collapsed under the zombies. He yanked him to his feet and shoved him forward, and the two of them ran full tilt from the throng of ghouls.
Zion grabbed his weapon as he passed it, and they skidded to a stop twenty yards away to glance back at the horde pouring into the camp.
“Where’s the meeting spot?” Zion asked.
The man pointed. “Two blocks over,” he replied.
“Let’s move, then,” Zion said, and took off running in the direction indicated.
They ran down a side street, zombies in lumbering pursuit. As they came to the second intersection, they saw the two transport vehicles loading up, as well as several trucks with armed men standing guard.
Zion looked around, seeing Calvin and Mateo having returned, and let out a sharp whistle to get their attention. He waved and then jogged over to Wendy and Monique.
“We need to leave,” he demanded.
The redhead nodded tersely. “We’re almost there.”
“So are those things,” Zion urged.
She nodded and ran back towards the house, pointing at a few guards in the process that followed her. A few moments later, some of the guards began firing in multiple directions. Zion stepped out to the road, looking in the direction of the main gate, and saw dozens of creatures coming around the corner. Just up the side road he’d come down, the group he’d tried to hold off from the hole in the fence was already working their way towards them.
Monique approached, patting his shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry little brother,” she said gently, “we will rebuild this place.”
“I know,” he growled, “just pisses me off that we’re losing all this hard work because some dumbass military bastard decided to launch a couple missiles our way.” He clenched his fists.
She swallowed hard at the look in his eyes, the anger brewing within him. He’d already had to deal with rogue military elements when the apocalypse had begun. She leaned over and hugged his shoulders, talking softly into his ear.
“Stay calm, little brother,” she cooed. “Still a lot to get done today.”
Her voice calmed him, and he took a deep breath, knowing that she was right. They still had to get these people out and to the safety of the apartment complex. At least, he hoped that was still a viable plan.
“Thanks, sis,” he said, and patted her hands.
She let go, and they turned to see Wendy and her guards carrying an elderly woman from the house and into the transport.
“This is the last of them!” the redhead barked. “Let’s roll!” She raised a hand and whirled it above her head.
Calvin and Mateo approached Zion, and the trio jumped into their truck that someone had pulled away from the front gate.
Calvin patted the passenger door as he got in. “This thing is gonna need a new paint job,” he quipped as he noted the blood and guts all over it.
Zion stood up, planting his foot on the driver’s seat to gain height so everyone could see him. “Follow me out of here!” he bellowed, and everyone honked their horns in acknowledgement.
He ducked back inside and stared up at the truck, doing a one-eighty in the road and heading for the hole in the wall.
“Where we going?” Calvin asked.
Zion raised his chin. “Gotta hope that the hole in the wall is clear,” he said.
“And if it’s not?” the sniper asked.
Zion just glanced at him while grabbing his seatbelt and fastening it with one hand.
“Aw, hell,” Calvin groaned as he tapped Mateo, squishing over so he could belt them both in.
Zion made the turn on a side street before turning on the main road towards the hole in the fence. He was relieved to see that the road was mostly empty, with just a few badly damaged ghouls shambling behind the main horde.
The corpses bounced off the front of the truck as they approached the hole, and Zion punched the gas to make sure they cleared the way in case anything was just outside the hole. As they cleared it, he made a left, away from the camp. The road in front was clear, so they paused to let the rest of the caravan get out. He honked his horn before resuming the journey, hitting the gas.
“Homeward bound!” Calvin declared.
Zion pursed his lips, anxiety thrumming through him. “Assuming it’s still there…”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zion led the caravan towards the apartment complex along the interstate. Several zombies dotted the road, but they were spread out enough that they posed no threat. As they drove up, there was a huge plume of smoke in the general direction of the apartment, putting the men on edge.
“We’re still a ways away,” Calvin said hopefully, clutching his knees. “It doesn’t look like it’s that close.”
Zion took a deep breath. “Calvin.”
“I’m just saying man,” the sniper babbled, “I can see that look on your face and-” He stopped short at the hard glance from his friend, and clamped his mouth shut.
As they got close to the exit, an overpass over the road to the complex, and saw a guard standing there that waved them down.
“Oh thank the good lord you’re back!” he gushed as they pulled up.
“Calm down man, what’s going on?” Zion asked, holding up a hand.
The guard scrubbed his hands down his face. “It’s home, man!” he cried. “One of those bombs got dropped a mile or so past us and it’s drawing a whole mess of those things towards ‘em!”
“How many?” Zion asked.
The guard shook his head, eyes wide in fear. “Hundreds at least,” he replied. “We were leading a small group up the interstate, some that broke off from that big horde from this morning when that boom happened. They just stopped paying attention to us and started going up the road!”
Zion’s gaze darkened. “Why the hell didn’t you do anything?”
“We tried, but this was a group of trainees on their first highway detail,” he explained, shaking his head. “They were in way over their heads, so I sent the one competent person I had as a runner to go around them in the woods to give the complex time to prepare. And I did the only thing I could, which was stand here and hoped to god you came back before it was too late.”
Zion looked to his passengers. “Mateo, this ain’t your fight, so don’t feel obligated to tag along.”
“You stuck your neck out for my family,” Mateo replied firmly. “I’m happy to repay the favor.”
Zion nodded in appreciation and put the truck in park. “Hang tight, I’ll be right back,” he said, and got out. “You, come with me,” he said to the guard.
He led the man to the transport vehicle a few cars back. The door opened and Wendy appeared on the steps.
“What is it?” she asked.
Zion motioned to the guard. “I need you to take this man with you and head out towards White Salmon,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” Her brow furrowed.
“You’re gonna backtrack a couple miles to the interstate eighty-four connection and head east,” Zion continued. “It’s about sixty miles. When you get there, just ask for Fingers, he’ll introduce you to the right people.”
Wendy crossed her arms. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“Gotta go save our home,” Zion replied.
She nodded as the doors shut. As Zion walked back to the truck, the vehicles began to turn around. He saw Monique staring at him from the back window of one of the buses, eyes wide. He gave her a thumbs-up, letting her know that it was going to be okay.
He hopped back into the truck and popped it into gear, speeding off the exit towards the complex. The cab was silent
as they drove, everyone focused on the shitshow they were about to walk into. As they reached the half-mile point, there were zombie stragglers on the road.
Zion drifted the truck over just enough to clip them with the edge of the bumper, which at the very least crippled them. After hitting five or six, there was a large gap between them and the tail end of the horde.
He slammed on the brakes as they came around the bend, a few hundred yards from the complex. They stared in shock at the four to five hundred creatures pressed up against the building, trying to get in.
“With that weight,” Calvin said hoarsely, “that garage door isn’t going to hold for long.”
Gunshots rang out in the distance, and they looked up to see a few people hanging out of third and fourth story windows, aiming and firing down.
“What can we do?” Mateo asked helplessly.
Zion took a deep breath, eyes like steel. “I want you to go back and clear those things we hit on the way up,” he instructed. “Calvin, I want you to start firing, draw as many of them towards you as possible and get them down the road as far as you can.”
“Man, I only got about fifteen shots left,” the sniper replied.
Zion shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, just use them to draw them to you,” he said. “We gotta relieve pressure on that gate.”
“Well, once you do, then come save my ass, will ya?” Calvin asked with a smirk, though it was strained.
“Don’t I always?” Zion shot back easily.
Mateo slid over as Calvin unbuckled the seat belt. “What are you going to do?”
Zion cracked his knuckles. “I’m gonna get in there and help ‘em.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Mateo walked back to clear the way, Calvin got up in the back of the truck for an elevated view. He looked over at Zion, who had darted into the woods for cover before beginning to fire.
He honed in on his first target, squeezing the trigger and blowing its head wide open. He quickly bolted in another round and fired quickly, not really taking the time to aim properly since the goal was noise, not precision. Rapid fire was a great way to draw attention.
“Yeah that’s right, come and get me!” Calvin declared loudly. The noise peeled off several zombies, a dozen or so. He fired a few more times, catching a couple of creatures in the face and neck.
By the time he had to reload, there were eighty or so corpses shambling his way, easily one fifth of the crowd. The leading edge of the group was about twenty yards away from the front of the truck. As he began to hop down, he fired one more shot, in hopes that it will pull a few more.
“That’s the best we’re gonna get,” he muttered, and jogged down the road, putting some distance between them, while remaining in view. As he did so, Mateo walked back from his mission.
“Route is clear,” he said, and then nodded in the direction of the zombie horde. “Good turnout.”
Calvin shook his head. “Not as good as it could have been, though,” he admitted. “Hopefully it’s enough.”
The duo began to walk down the road, whistling and shouting and leading the mass of rotted flesh along behind them.
Meanwhile, Zion looked on from the woods, deep in cover and staying silent, pleased with how many they’d been able to draw away from the complex. He stood there, weaponless, looking at the horde in front, pressing on the parking garage door.
Once the horde had passed, Zion went on the move, rushing through the woods towards the building while moving away from the horde. As he got close, a straggler lunged out from behind a tree. He grabbed it by the neck without breaking stride, slamming it into another trunk, dropping it.
Zion ran alongside the wall towards the back, the noise attracting a few creatures from the horde. He glanced over his shoulder as he went, muttering curses to himself for not being quieter. He came around to the back end, past the emergency exit, and over to the first opening in the parking garage. He peeked through and saw the college kids struggling with the Impaler 3000.
They had it lined up with some zombies to the right of the door, throwing the switch and taking several out with the rebar bolts. As Jack and Harold struggled to rearm it, Zion let out a whistle.
“Over here!” he called, and Tori whipped around, spotting him. As she got close, he inclined his head back to the door. “Emergency exit!” he said.
She adjusted course, and he tore for the emergency door, reaching it just as his pursuers ambled around the corner. He leapt into the air, giving the lead zombie a powerful jump kick to the chest, driving it back into its buddies.
Tori opened the door. “Glad you’re back,” she said.
Zion rushed inside and slammed the door shut. “Me too,” he said.
“We need help!” Missy screamed, arms flailing wildly at the garage door, which was beginning to buckle on the right side from the weight pressing up against it.
Zion raced over, throwing his entire weight into it.
Jack and Harold released the impaler and struck a trio of creatures in the face, the zombies convulsing and falling back as the duo rearmed the weapon.
“Welcome back, Zion,” Jack huffed as he slowly peeled the rebar.
“Thanks,” he replied, as if he wasn’t holding up a buckling garage door. “I miss anything?”
Jack aimed the impaler and shrugged. “Just an impromptu block party,” he replied, and fired, taking out two more zombies.
“It’s hard to see from here,” Tori piped up, pushing her glasses up her nose. “How many are out there?”
Zion cocked his head. “Few hundred by the door, another hundred or so chasing Calvin down the road,” he replied, and at her concerned look, he continued, “Don’t worry, your boyfriend is fine. There’s nothing between him and the interstate.”
She nodded, glancing at the impaler as it fired off again.
“How’s that thing working?” Zion asked.
She clenched and unclenched her fists. “It’s slow, but effective.”
The door popped a rivet on the left side, and the students jumped.
“Slow ain’t gonna cut it,” Zion said. “Any of you have any bright ideas?”
The girls shared a look, seeming unsure.
“Well spit it out,” he urged. “Don’t care how bad it is.”
“Firebomb,” Tori blurted.
Zion shook his head. “Okay, I stand corrected, that is a bad idea,” he replied. “We’re fucked if the building catches on fire.”
“We can make up some high powered fire extinguishers in case things get out of control,” Missy assured him.
Tori nodded. “Just need a ton of vinegar and baking soda and some containers,” she added.
The left side of the door creaked open a little more, and an arm reached in, flailing about.
“Fuck it, I’m in,” Zion grunted, “make it happen. Harold, go with the girls and do what you need to do,” he inclined his head sharply. “Jack, get on the other side of this door!”
Everyone sprung into action, the others rushing off as Jack pressed up against the left side of the door to reinforce it a bit.
Tori led the trio racing up the stairs, stopping at the second floor where the cafeteria was. “Missy, you’re on baking soda,” she said. “Harold, find something we can use for firebombs, I’ll get the vinegar.”
The two followers yelled in the affirmative and burst into the lunchroom. There were a few people cleaning up, apparently trying to keep themselves busy as the battle raged outside, distracting themselves from the carnage.
“Where’s the pantry?” Tori demanded.
One of the works pointed to the back room, and they ran off towards it, ripping through the shelves to find the goods they needed.
“Got the baking soda!” Missy cried and then spotted several plastic gallon milk containers. “And our delivery system!”
Harold pored over the area, looking for something flammable, before finally finding some cheap booze in glass bottles. “Fire bomb is a go,” he declared.
“How many do we need?”
“Grab as many as you can carry,” Tori replied, and he grabbed four, cradling them in his arms.
Missy grabbed a stack of dishtowels from the counter, and Tori finally found a couple large canisters of vinegar.
“Got it, let’s move!” she cried, and they ran back out, carrying their goods. The workers gazed after them with confusion, but didn’t say anything as the trio rushed back to the stairs.
They thundered up another flight to the lowest level with exterior windows, finding the first open apartment facing the horde. There were a few older men shooting out the window that startled as the kids entered.
“You two, they need help down in the basement and we need the windows,” Tori gushed, setting down the vinegar.
One of the men furrowed his brow. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
“We’re scientists,” she replied, pushing her glasses up her nose.
He scoffed. “Does this look like a situation that needs science?” He rolled his eyes.
The blonde stepped up, eyes blazing. “Yeah it does,” she snarled, “now get the fuck down to the basement or everyone is going to die!”
He blinked at her, surprise all over his face, and then glanced at his buddy, who shrugged and headed for the door.
Missy gaped at her friend with amazement. “I’ve never seen you like that,” she breathed.
“Don’t have time to be polite,” Tori snapped. “Let’s get to mixing.”
The three of them spurred to action, creating the firebombs and makeshift fire extinguishers. When they had everything in order on the coffee table, Tori handed a few extinguishers to Harold.
“Get these down to Zion, and help them out,” she instructed. “We’ll launch some from up here if it starts getting out of control.”
He nodded and took the jugs, running from the room.
Missy pulled a lighter from her pocket as Tori lifted one of the molotov cocktails. They looked out the window at the mass of creatures below, stretching back along the road about forty yards.
Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 6
