They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating.
“I got an idea,” Calvin finally said, “but you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
Zion chuckled, shaking his head. “I already think that, so you don’t have to worry about your reputation.”
“Well…” the sniper began, “I figure we can Blues Brothers it through the mall, park it beside the mowers in the Garden Center, then get to higher ground in the mall proper and draw them out of the store.”
Zion nodded thoughtfully. “Those things aren’t the most graceful creatures on god’s green earth, so there shouldn’t be too many of them on the second floor.”
“That’s my thought, too,” Calvin said. “So we get in, fight our way to the second floor, draw them out and buy ourselves a few minutes to load up.”
Zion’s eyebrows rose at his friend. “That’s a crazy fucking idea,” he said.
“Yeah I know,” Calvin replied sheepishly. “Just trying to think outside the box.”
They sat in another contemplative silence for a moment, and then Zion looked at his watch again. Three hours and twelve minutes remaining.
“I hate to say it though,” he admitted, “but it’s the best idea we got.”
Calvin blinked at him in shock, having a hard time comprehending that his dumbass idea was the one they were going with. “Just make me a promise,” he finally said.
“What’s that?” Zion asked.
The sniper held up a hand. “If we survive this,” he began, “let me come up with another idea when we’re doing a raid. Don’t want this to be the best idea I ever come up with.”
“If we pull this off,” Zion replied with a grin, “this will be the best idea you will ever have, because it worked. You may want to retire from the idea business.”
Calvin tilted his head back and forth. “Good point,” he said. “So you ready to do this?”
“Let’s do it,” Zion replied.
They shared a fist bump, and Calvin popped the truck into gear. He crept along the parking lot, lining them up with the hole in the entrance. As they approached, several zombies began coming out of the hole, attracted to the noise.
“Hang on!” Calvin cried and punched the gas. The vehicle rapidly picked up speed, and he flipped on the headlights as they approached the entrance. Several more zombies emerged, creating a soft wall of rotting flesh.
The truck bounced as they hit the curb, sending it and the trailer flying a foot or so off of the ground, landing hard and slamming into the first creature. With a rapid thump, thump, thump, they plowed over the ghouls, sending them crumbling underneath the vehicle.
As soon as they cleared the entrance, Calvin made a quick left turn, running over the clothing displays, one of which cracked the windshield. He hit a couple more before finding the walkway leading through the department store.
Calvin got on it, looking straight through the store to see the entrance to the main part of the mall. Several zombies still remained in their way, but they were no match for the massive truck. They cleared the threshold and reached the main part of the mall.
The second floor was a rim around the gigantic first floor, where hundreds of zombies spread about like undead Christmas shoppers. The engine revved, echoing throughout the cavernous structure.
As Calvin navigated, doing his best to avoid hitting too many ghouls and kiosks, Zion fixated on the second floor.
“Shit,” he growled.
Calvin didn’t peel his eyes away from his task. “What?!” he demanded.
“There’s a whole lot of those fuckers on the second floor,” Zion replied.
The sniper glanced up, seeing a few dozen lining the rails, and then looked back to his task, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. The job had just gotten a lot tougher, but there was no going back now.
As they passed the food court in the center of the mall, they saw a horde of creatures walking between the tables, every one of them heading their way. Calvin sped up, attempting to put a little distance between them. Finally, they saw the Super Garden Center at the end of the hall, the entire front entrance wide open, and dozens of zombies in the way.
They sped past an escalator, about forty yards away from the entrance to the store.
“That’s our way up to the second floor,” Zion said, motioning.
Calvin glanced in the rearview, seeing hundreds of creatures all heading their way. “We’re gonna have to haul ass, then, if we’re gonna make it back in time,” he said, and sped through the front entrance to the garden center.
He knocked several creatures to the ground and then skidded to a stop just inside the store. “Where are the mowers?” he asked.
They looked around frantically, and Zion finally pointed to the display towards the back right side of the store.
“There!” he cried. “To the right!”
Calvin didn’t even look, just hit the gas and headed that way, slamming through a display before finding the walkway again. As they raced towards the mowers, there were two more zombies in the aisle. He sped up, crashing through the two of them before slamming on the brakes beside the display.
Four large riding lawn mowers sat in a row, sales stickers still displayed on the front of all of them. The two men quickly jumped out of the truck, and Zion grabbed his bludgeon from the back while Calvin quickly checked his rifle.
“Follow me through them,” Zion said, and took off running.
The sniper followed close behind as they headed up the aisle, and zombies began to emerge from the displays. Zion stepped up to the first one, a former Super Garden Center employee who had numerous bite marks all over her body. With one swing, he put her out of her misery.
As the weapon hit, Zion saw another eight zombies directly in front of him on the walkway. He quickly darted off of the path and into the displays, giving them some minor cover. As they ran, the creatures adjusted course, reaching through the potted plants and tools, clawed fingers grasping at them as they went.
They tore towards the front of the store, reaching ten yards away when Zion spotted a mini-horde blocking the path at the entrance. He tossed his weapon behind him.
“Catch!” he cried, and Calvin managed to snatch the weapon out of the air despite his surprise.
With his hands free, Zion picked up a large metal display that stretched out in four directions holding gardening shirts. He put it in front of him as he ran, slamming the crossed end into several ghouls and clearing a hole for them to fly through.
Once they cleared it, he threw the metal rack aside, taking out even more creatures. They broke through into the main part of the mall, giving themselves about five yards of distance from the zombies at the entrance before they turned to follow their running meals. Hundreds headed towards them from the center portion, closing in on the escalator.
“Keep up, playa!” Zion barked, and they broke into a dead sprint, running straight for the escalator. Hearts pounding, legs pumping, they ran as hard as they could, ducking the outstretched hands of the few creatures reaching for them on the way.
As they reached the escalators, Calvin followed Zion up one side, just before the horde reached the bottom. At the halfway point, several creatures from upstairs started to come down their side, filing one after the other.
Zion stopped, Calvin barely smacking into the back of him. “What are we waiting on?!” he demanded.
“Get ready,” Zion replied, holding up a hand, “cause we’re gonna jump over to the other side. When we do, haul ass, because it ain’t gonna take them long to catch on.”
The sniper slung his rifle over his shoulder, looking at the three-foot gap between the two sets of stationary stairs. Zion remained focused on the creatures ahead of them, shambling their way down. When they were within five steps of them, he made his move.
“Now!” Zion yelled, and the duo moved in sync, leaping across to the other side of the escalator. Zion landed perfectly, but Calvin’s foot caught on the median, and he stumbled. His
companion grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up to a standing. They quickly rushed up the stairs, as the zombies reached from the other side, confused that their meal had escaped.
The creatures at the top that hadn’t filtered down the other side had changed course, moving towards them. Zion snatched his weapon from Calvin’s hand and whipped it in front of him, using it like a battering ram to send a couple of them flying back as they reached the landing.
The duo made a hard left towards the wall of stores before continuing towards the center of the mall. There were about two dozen zombies behind them, with a smattering of creatures in front.
“Anytime you wanna start shooting!” Zion barked. “We gotta get them out of the store!”
Calvin didn’t wait to be asked a second time, aiming towards the center of the mall, selecting a target and squeezing the trigger. The blast echoed throughout the large space as one of the creatures dropped to the ground.
Zion turned his attention towards the escalator zombies that were following them. He delivered several quick, decisive blows that dropped them to the ground. Before too long, however, the ones on the escalator had cleared the stairs, and were quickly becoming too much for him to handle on his own.
“Let’s head up!” he yelled. “Gotta keep ‘em moving.”
They took off about twenty yards, Calvin stopping and firing twice in rapid succession, keeping the noise up and the threat ahead at bay. As he aimed for a third one, he paused, drawing his companion’s attention from the trailing horde.
“What is it?” Zion asked.
Calvin gulped. “We’re in trouble,” he said.
His friend looked ahead and saw about sixty zombies coming around the corner at the center of the mall. “Where the fuck did they come from?” he demanded.
“Doesn’t matter, they’re here!” Calvin cried.
Zion looked back, noticing several zombies had poured out of the storefronts, increasing the number pursuing them. He frantically looked around, seeing a clothing store with an open gate just ahead, a small chain with a door about twenty feet wide.
“There!” Zion pointed. “Into the clothing store!”
They tore towards it as the zombies began to close in from both sides. Zion ran in first, quickly working his way through the displays to make sure they were alone inside. There were plenty of bloodstains and overturned displays, showing that at one time there’d been a hell of a struggle in there, with someone not coming out on top.
While he did his sweep, Calvin grabbed the metal pole and used it to close the gate. He slammed it shut moments before the zombies reached them, securing it to the ground. He took a few steps back as dozens of creatures pressed up against it, scraping the flesh from their fingers as they tried to stick them through the small metal openings. Zion came up to join him.
“How we looking?” he asked.
Calvin swallowed hard. “Trying to remain hopeful that there is a back exit,” he admitted.
“Haven’t checked,” Zion replied, “but we’re alone in here unless something is in the storeroom.”
They backed away from the gate, relieved that it was holding, but concerned they may be trapped. They went to the storeroom door, and Calvin put his hand on the knob as Zion readied his weapon and nodded.
The sniper threw open the door, and Zion burst inside, looking around at the horrific scene. A mangled bloody corpse sprawled on the ground, mostly eaten but still moving. He shook his head as he walked over to it, unable to tell at all what the person had looked like before they’d been attacked.
“Don’t know who this was,” he muttered, “but they were a hell of a fighter if they were able to lock themselves up with that kind of damage.” He stood over the zombie as it gave a gurgled moan and tried to reach for his ankle. He brought his weapon down on top of its chewed-up head, destroying it.
The two looked around the darkened storeroom, unable to see much of anything without any lights. Calvin headed back out to the register, fumbling around the shelves underneath until he found a flashlight.
“Got a light,” he said, returning to the dark room.
He flicked it on and scanned the room, and both men’s hearts soared as they spotted a back door.
“Hope that’s not just a closet,” Zion said, and they approached it carefully. He unlocked it and then cracked it open, peeking through. There was a long cinder block hallway with several other doors, a dead end about forty yards ahead with a door. He gently closed it and backed up. “We got a way out,” he said. “But first, I think we need to draw some attention our way, don’t you?”
Calvin nodded, wiping his forehead. “Plus I could use a breather,” he admitted.
“Weak bud, weak,” Zion said playfully, shaking his head. “If you are gonna keep your girl pleased, you gonna have to work on that cardio.”
The sniper chuckled. “You have such a one-track mind,” he accused.
Zion clapped him on the back. “Come on, let’s go cause a ruckus.”
They headed to the gate and began yelling. Calvin stuck his gun through one of the holes and fired at point blank range, exploding a zombie’s head and sending guts and brain matter everywhere.
“Whoa!” Zion cried, stepping back from the spray. “Watch it, there.”
Calvin chuckled. “My bad,” he said, and turned the rifle around. He used the butt to bang on the metal. After a few minutes of this, they backed away from the gate. Zion looked at his watch.
“Two fifty-eight on the clock,” he reported. “We give this ten and we’re back on the move.”
Calvin found a spot behind the counter and plonked down on the floor, back against the wall. “I’ll take every minute I can get.”
CHAPTER THREE
Mateo drove Bryan and Michael towards the Bridge of the Gods. The SUV was silent, tense, everybody focused on the task at hand. The headlights pierced through the darkness as they drove along the interstate next to the water, providing a little ambient light. As they approached the exit, Bryan leaned forward from the backseat.
“This has got to be it,” he said. He pointed to the water, and the metallic bridge shimmered in the distance in the moonlight.
Mateo nodded. “Now we just have to hope this Fingers fella is here.”
“Almost afraid to ask how he earned that nickname,” Michael said, earning a few light chuckles despite the somber mood of the car.
Mateo swerved lightly as a few zombies wandered onto the exit ramp from the woods. He hit the brakes.
“Clear ‘em out,” he said.
Bryan furrowed his brow. “Why?” he asked, shrugging his lean shoulders. “Just keep driving.”
“We’re gonna have our hands full as it is,” Mateo replied. “Do you really want things sneaking up on us?”
Michael shook his head and looked at his friend before shrugging. The duo got out of the vehicle reluctantly, surveying the two zombies that looked badly damaged, the forest having taken its toll on them. They grabbed baseball bats out of the trunk and casually walked over, each smacking down a ghoul and returning to the vehicle unharmed.
“Happy?” Bryan drawled as he slid into the backseat.
Mateo pursed his lips, ignoring the man’s sarcastic tone. He popped the vehicle back into gear and drove towards the meeting spot. As they crept through the tiny town, they looked down side streets, seeing movement on the far end.
“You want us to take care of them, too?” Michael asked, a touch of ice in his voice.
Mateo shook his head. “Let’s see what Fingers has to say before we start clearing out the whole town.”
They drove a couple more blocks before finding the hotel. It was a large five story building, with a few zombies in the parking lot. Bryan leaned forward again, tapping Mateo on the shoulder and pointing to a small restaurant on the other side of the street.
A man stood by the entrance, waving at them, and they realized he was missing a finger and a half.
“Going to go out on a limb and assume
that’s Fingers,” Bryan quipped.
Mateo drove over, and they got out, carrying their weapons.
Fingers frowned at the trio. “This all you got?”
“All that could be spared,” Mateo admitted, “they’re really scrambling to get people ready to move.”
He shook his head before motioning for them to follow him inside. “Well, it is what it is,” he said with a sigh. “Come on, let me show you what I got.”
They walked into the darkened restaurant, the only light coming from an industrial grade flashlight on a table near the back, away from the windows. As they walked, Michael stumbled over a corpse on the ground.
“Oh yeah,” Fingers said, with a little laugh, “sorry, watch your step. Had to do a little handiwork to get this place secure.”
They navigated to the back of the restaurant where there was a table set up. There were a few bombs, two large and one that would fit in the palm of a hand. There was also a hand-drawn map on the back of a kid’s placemat, showing the hotel, bridge and immediate area.
“Have a seat,” Fingers invited, spreading his arms. “We need to run through this quick.” When they complied, he held up the map. “As I’m sure you saw on the way in, we have a potential shitstorm on our hands. We gotta clear out at least the bottom floor of the hotel and secure the doors. We also have a couple hundred of those fuckers roaming the streets that we need to deal with, too.”
Bryan crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the table. “Man, why are we worrying about the hotel when this place is clear?”
“Because there’s too much glass,” Fingers replied impatiently, “the back door is completely gone, and the hotel across the street is wide open, so it would just be a constant stream of those things that we’d have to deal with one way or another. Not to mention, if they are bringing six busloads of people here, it would get pretty cramped in here.” He cocked his head. “Now are you gonna let me finish, or do you want to keep offering up ideas that are far beyond your pay grade?”
Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 9
