Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6

by Slaton, Derek

  The three soldiers nodded and said, “Yes, sir,” in unison. A moment later, the buses outside honked their horns.

  “Good,” Kersey said, straightening up. “And it would appear as though your rides are ready to go. Gear up, load out, and most importantly, be safe.” He smirked playfully at Baker. “Well, not you, because you’re expendable.”

  The group laughed, and Baker gave the Captain a mocking thumbs up. “Thanks Cap,” he drawled, “always good to be reminded of where I stand.” He cracked a smile, unable to contain his amusement any longer, even if it was at his own expense.

  Kersey nodded. “Go get ‘em, boys.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bretz and Baker sat in the front row of the bus, looking out into the darkness as they drove along back roads towards their difficult target.

  “What time is it?” Baker asked.

  The Corporal checked his watch. “Around six-thirty,” he replied.

  “Good lord,” the Private groaned, “how long of a drive is this?”

  Private Kline turned from the seat across the aisle from them. “We still have another hour or so,” he said, voice shaky.

  Baker furrowed his brow at the kid that looked barely old enough to be out of high school. “Oh yeah?” he asked gently. “How do you know?”

  “I… I talked with the driver earlier,” Kline replied, clasping his trembling hands in his lap. “He said they had to take back roads to avoid… troubles on the interstate.”

  Baker cocked his head. “You all right there, soldier?” he asked.

  “Y-yeah,” the kid replied, nodding jerkily. “I’ll be… okay.”

  Bretz wasn’t convinced. “What’s your name, soldier?” he asked, hoping to engage the kid enough to calm him down. “I’m Corporal Bretz, this here is Baker.”

  “Private Kline, sir,” the kid replied.

  “It’s good to meet you, Kline,” Bretz replied, offering a smile. “So talk to us. Why are you shaking like that?”

  The young man’s face flushed. “Just… just my nerves, sir,” he said, shaking his head. “This is the first time I’m going to… see one of those things.”

  The older soldiers gaped at each other.

  “How in the hell?” Baker breathed, leaning forward. “We’re almost a month into this thing and you’re in the fucking military. How have you not seen a zombie yet?”

  Kline’s flush deepened to almost purple as he struggled to contain his shaking hands. “Because I’m… Im a supply specialist,” he stammered. “I was already stationed in Kansas when they started sending everybody to us, and since I was good at logistics and getting stuff to where it needed to be, they kept me isolated. Especially after… after most of my team fell ill.”

  Bretz swallowed hard and reached out to give the kid’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Sorry for your loss,” he said solemnly. “Never easy to lose a comrade, especially when it just sneaks up on you out of nowhere.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Kline replied, pursing his lips.

  “I don’t get it, though,” Baker said. “If you’re as valuable as you say, how did you end up on this charter bus to hell?”

  The kid looked around, as if to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “We’re short on supplies,” he said quietly. “Like, dangerously short. We had to abandon so much material during the evacuation, that finding enough resources for this invasion was almost impossible to do. I’m here because we need to know what’s usable in this town. Guns, ammo, fuel, anything and everything.” He shook his head. “There isn’t time to fully secure the town and bring me in later. This stuff needs to get out to the front lines immediately.”

  Baker leaned his head back against the seat. “That’s… disheartening,” he said.

  “Why are you telling us?” Bretz asked quietly. “This sounds like something that could create a hell of a panic if it got out.”

  Kline scratched the back of his neck nervously. “The driver may have let slip that we were waiting on some VIPs, which is why we were the last bus to leave,” he admitted. “I don’t know what your mission is, but felt like it might do you some good to know what if you see something you might need, you should probably pick it up.” He sat back into his seat, still trembling a bit.

  Baker reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of gum, holding it out to the young soldier.

  “I’m okay,” Kline replied, offering a weak smile. “Thank you, though.”

  Baker took the kid’s hand and pressed the packet into his palm. “Take two sticks and keep chewing ‘em, long after the flavor is gone,” he insisted. “When shit gets real, just focus on the chewing. It’ll help calm you down. I get the sense you’re going to be behind the fire line, so you don’t have to worry about fighting these things off.”

  Kline swallowed and nodded, fumbling with the package and taking out two sticks of gum. As he turned to face front again, the older two soldiers leaned together.

  “Haven’t even fired the first shot in this battle yet, and they’re already sending out scavengers,” Baker said softly. “That’s not a good sign.”

  Bretz shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to scavenge to survive,” he pointed out.

  “Still,” his companion said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m adding some more food to the shopping list. We may by out there for a long ass time.”

  The Corporal nodded silently before turning back to the window, staring out into the darkness. He blinked and tried to put the new information out of his head, focusing on the task at hand.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bretz’ bus was the last one to arrive at the town, stopping on the outskirts. They parked behind three other buses unloading men onto the grass. The sun lit up the roadway with golden hues as it peeked over the horizon.

  As they departed, sporadic gunfire echoed in the distance, coming from multiple directions. Bretz and Baker took a few steps away from the bus, the latter doing some stretches on the side of the road.

  As the rest of the soldiers filed out, several squad leaders barked out orders, moving them all into groups. As this happened, the gunfire in the distance intensified.

  “Man, the sun is barely up and already shit is going down,” Baker groaned as he pulled his elbow back over his head.

  Bretz shook his head. “And that’s just a small suburb,” he replied. “Can you imagine what it’s going to be like when we get to downtown?”

  “Since there’s only six of us going in first, I’m going to assume we are going to have our choice of targets,” the Private said.

  The other men from their team headed over, setting down their gear and joining Baker in some stretches.

  “Whole world at our fingertips, and the find the least comfortable bus to throw us on,” Kent said, bending his leg and gripping his ankle.

  Short shook his head as he leaned over to touch his toes. “Could be worse,” he said, “at least it wasn’t a school bus.”

  “Man, what does your country ass know about school buses?” Kent teased. “Did you even go to school?”

  Short raised his chin as he straightened up. “I finished top of my class, thank you very much.”

  Hess snorted as he tilted his torso to each side. “Congratulations on beating the other four people in your grade.”

  “Hey now, it was more than that,” Short shot back, and then hesitated as the others gave him a knowing look. “I mean, not much more than that. We did hit double digits.”

  Laughter rippled through the group, and then promptly ceased as a giant man stalked towards them. Despite his white hair, he didn’t look frail, his six-foot frame broad and towering over most of the other soldiers.

  “Are you boys my VIPs?” the beastly soldier asked.

  Bretz nodded, stepping forward and saluting. “Yes sir, I’m Corporal Bretz.”

  “All right,” the man replied, nodding at him. “I’m Sergeant Murphy, and I’m going to be leading you in. Hope you boys are
ready to fight, because we’re going in short-handed.”

  Baker raised an eyebrow, motioning to the pack of soldiers surrounding them. “There’s like two hundred people standing here,” he said. “Not sure that qualifies as short-handed.”

  “Good to know they’re still teaching counting in basic,” Murphy said, sarcasm evident as he stared down at the Private.

  The group chuckled at Baker’s expense, save for Bretz.

  “What’s going on, Sergeant?” the Corporal asked, brow furrowing.

  “Our teams to the north are, for lack of a better word, getting their asses handed to them,” Murphy explained. “They had to fall back to the high school, and they’re kind of trapped. So we have orders to send three-quarters of our men up there to break ‘em out.”

  Bretz nodded. “So we’re going in with fifty?” he asked.

  “Not including you six, that’s right,” Murphy replied, and pulled out a piece of paper printed from the satellite imagery. “According to the sat image, our shopping center target is looking relatively bare, at least in the parking lot. We should have more than enough firepower to get you to the target so you can secure your trucks.”

  The Corporal nodded again. “If you’re confident, Sergeant,” he said, “then I’m confident.”

  “Truth be told, it’s more hopeful optimism than confidence,” Murphy admitted.

  Bretz shrugged. “It’s more than I had in Spokane, so I’ll take it,” he said.

  “All right, if you boys want to just hang out here by the bus, I’ll send a runner when we’re ready to move,” the Sergeant instructed. “Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

  “We’ll be ready,” the Corporal replied.

  Murphy nodded firmly and headed off, barking out orders at the top of his lungs as he went. Bretz turned to his team, noting their concerned faces.

  “Six minutes into the assault and we’re already getting our asses kicked?” Kent asked, shaking his head. “That doesn’t bode well for things.”

  Baker took a deep breath. “Based on that, I think we should pick up some extra food before getting in those trucks,” he suggested. “Might be weeks before they get to us at this rate.”

  “We stick to the plan as is,” Bretz countered. “A lot of these soldiers haven’t seen much combat, if any at all int he last month. And certainly not at the scale of this operation. Going to take them a minute to get their footing.”

  Baker jutted out his chin. “You don’t actually believe that bullshit, do you?” he demanded.

  Bretz cocked his head and gave a little shrug, not wanting to confirm or deny the Private’s accusation. “All right,” he finally conceded, “if you pass something while we’re going through the store, grab it. But don’t be going out of your way for stuff.”

  “That’s a compromise I can get behind,” Mason agreed, and the group fell into a tense silence as they readied their gear.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bretz and his team followed the group of fifty led by Sergeant Murphy towards the shopping center. They stopped a block away, taking a knee by the side of the road. The center was the first bit of civilization they’d encountered, nothing but woods and fields up until that point.

  Murphy pulled out binoculars and scanned ahead, focusing on the shopping center. It was a large complex, with two main anchors running along a five hundred yard long building, the back of which faced the group. Along the side to the left was a shorter building, about three hundred yards, with another major anchor.

  While the driveway was only about thirty yards wide, he could see about eighty zombies or so in the lot, but it was impossible from that vantage point to see the majority of the area. He motioned for Bretz to come up beside him.

  “What do we have, Sergeant?” Bretz asked.

  Murphy tilted his head. “We have moderate resistance, just from what I can see,” he replied. “I doubt we’re lucky enough to have all of them to one side.”

  “Based on my experience, none of us are that lucky,” the Corporal replied dryly.

  The Sergeant pulled out a close-up satellite image printout of the shopping center, with two areas circled. One was on the main building on the far side, and the other on a shorter building closer to them.

  “You need six trucks, right?” he asked.

  Bretz nodded. “That’s right.”

  “We got two target buildings here,” Murphy explained, pointing to the circles, “neither of which are going to be easy runs if we’re facing heavy resistance. I think in order to buy you the time you need, we’re going to have to clear this lot and set up a firing line to the north in case we attract some visitors.”

  Bretz nodded. “If the keys are in the loading dock offices,” he said, “it shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes to get loaded up and head out.”

  “And if they’re not?” the Sergeant asked, cocking his head.

  The Corporal wrinkled his nose. “Could be thirty minutes or more.”

  “No matter how much time you need, we’re gonna get it for you,” Murphy said firmly, and let out a soft whistle, pointing to some men close by.

  Four soldiers rushed over and took a knee in front of him.

  “We gotta buy the Corporal here some time,” the Sergeant explained. “Need two of you on each of the main buildings. Get up there, give us the lay of the land, then start picking them off. You got it?”

  All four men made emphatic noises in the affirmative.

  “Good,” Murphy said, “get going.”

  The four men took off quickly down the road, moving faster than a jog. The Sergeant reached into his bag and pulled out a second set of binoculars, handing them to Bretz.

  The Corporal took them with a brow furrowed. “You carry two sets of these?” he asked.

  “My orders said I had to escort some VIPS,” Murphy replied with a little shrug. “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t disappoint.”

  Bretz smiled and nodded, then lifted the binoculars so he could watch the foursome approach the shopping center. When the boys got close, the teams broke off into groups of two, focusing on their targets. The duo to the left, heading towards the smaller building, took cover behind a few cars parked on the side of the building.

  There were some zombies wandering about on the other side of the vehicles, looking around suspiciously at the noise of the footsteps. The Corporal watched the two men draw knives, readying to strike. One of them picked up a rock and heaved it over the enemy’s head, and it smacked into the side of the wall.

  “Smart move,” Bretz murmured as the soldiers leapt over the hood of the car, dispatching the distracted zombies from behind with ease.

  As soon as the duo disappeared behind the store, panicked gunfire erupted from the other side.

  “What are those chucklefucks doing?” Murphy snapped, and they frantically searched for the other pair of soldiers.

  Bretz finally found them as the gunfire grew more intense. “Got ‘em, halfway down the building.”

  A horde of zombies swarmed around a spot on the ground, presumably where one of the men had been standing. One of the creatures’ heads exploded, and then the gunfire went silent. Bretz’ mouth went dry, and he scanned for the other soldier, finally spotting him climbing up onto a dumpster and collapsing on top of it.

  It was clear that the soldier was clutching a wound on his neck. Bretz quickly pocketed the binoculars and readied his rifle.

  “Sergeant, we have to move now,” he said. “We’re about to have at least to runners.”

  Murphy nodded, the implications not lost on him. Runners were much harder to deal with, and given that they were already shorthanded, they’d need to be dealt with fast.

  “You’re staying put, Corporal,” he said firmly. “My orders are to deliver you safely, and I intend on doing just that.” He motioned to six nearby soldiers, waving them forward. “Main building, eliminate all targets with extreme prejudice. Including our injured.”

  One of the soldiers’ eyes widened.
“Sir?”

  “Did I fucking stutter?” the Sergeant demanded. “Those are the orders from the top. Quick death for those who are bitten. And when it’s clear, two of you get topside for diversions. Now move out!”

  The group of six sprinted towards the dead and injured, guns raised and ready for action. As they made the turn on the back of the building, Bretz and Murphy watched through the binoculars as they formed a firing line.

  The soldiers fired quickly, striking down several zombies in short order. They mowed down the remaining ghouls and then hesitated.

  “Follow your damn orders,” the Sergeant muttered.

  “They will,” Bretz assured him. “It’s not easy, what’s being asked of them.”

  Murphy’s brow furrowed, and he lowered his binoculars. “You’ve been in their shoes, I take it?” he asked.

  The Corporal shook his head. “Not pre-turn, but shortly after,” he replied. “Even with my life in danger, it took longer than I would care to admit.”

  Several quick shots rang out, and they looked to see the job was done.

  “Hope they’ve squirreled away some shrinks,” Murphy said, “because a lot of us are gonna need some time on the couch when this is through.”

  Bretz shrugged. “Well, we are invading Seattle,” he pointed out, “maybe Frasier Crane survived.”

  “One can only hope,” the Sergeant replied with a dark chuckle.

  They watched two of the men climb up onto the roof and scanned the other four coming back to the formation. They looked at the other building and spotted one of the men waving at them, prompting Murphy to pull out his walkie-talkie.