Dead America - El Paso Pt. 4 (Dead America - The Third Week Book 1)

by Derek Slaton

  “We’re clear!” Reed called from the hallway after checking all of the bedrooms.

  Landry closed the patio door behind him, staring out at the zombies coming their way. “This just got interesting,” he declared, and pulled out his radio, raising it to his lips. “Leon, come in.”

  “Go for Leon,” came the reply.

  “Fire team reporting in,” Landry said. “We got a whole mess of those things heading our way.”

  “You ready for the fire?” Leon asked.

  Landry nodded, peering outside. “Any time will be good,” he said. “They should be on us in five, but we can hold ‘em here for a bit.”

  “I’ll let Hammond know,” Leon came back. “You boys hunker down.”

  The soldier shook his head and took a deep breath. “Ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he said. “We’ll be ready when they get here.”

  “Ten-four,” came the reply. “Leon out.”

  Landry put the radio away as the boys came to the window, staring with wide eyes at the horrifying sight.

  “Well.” Trenton sucked his lower lip. “We certainly got their attention.”

  Reed let out a hysterical laugh. “Understatement.”

  “The flamethrower will be here soon,” Landry said. “We need to get this place locked down and make sure the escape route is clear.”

  Trenton nodded. “I’ll handle the escape,” he said. “Reed, you help Landry.”

  The trio sprung into action, Trenton running through the house to make sure that the backdoor was unlocked. He checked either side to look out, making sure there wasn’t another apartment complex nearby that could surprise them. There was nothing of note that seemed big enough for that.

  Reed and Landry shut the front door before moving the couch in front of it. The soldier smacked the thick wooden door.

  “It’s sturdy,” he said, “but if enough of those things start pressing against it, the frame could give way.”

  Reed nodded. “Looks like we’re about to find out if the builder was a cheapskate or not,” he said, and cracked open one of the windows before taking aim and firing at the zombies.

  Landry chuckled as he opened his own window. “You’re right about that, kid.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rogers, Whitaker and Mathis approached the back side of the elementary school from the desert to the east. There were no zombies on that side of the building, so they rushed up and took cover.

  Whitaker held up a hand. “I’ll find us a way in.” She crept over to a series of windows, peering in to see if the coast was clear. When she saw no movement, she inspected the frames to see if there was a way to easily open them.

  The two men headed for the corner of the building, looking around the side towards the middle school across the road. As they took in the giant cluster of zombies crowded around the front, Rogers took a deep breath.

  “Gotta admit, that looked a little more manageable from the satellite imagery.”

  Mathis shook his head. “Won’t be much of a problem once the shooting starts,” he explained. “Should peel enough of them away that I can get over there.” He raised his rifle, peering through the scope to survey the area.

  Off to the side of the building was a large air conditioner that was several feet tall.

  “All right, found my roof access,” he murmured.

  Rogers crossed his arms. “Assuming you can get there,” he said. “What’s the plan if the shots in the distance don’t break them up enough?”

  “I’ll start luring them this way with a few shots of my own,” Mathis said with a grin. “Assuming you two can handle it.”

  The Detective glanced back at Whitaker, who was jamming a knife blade underneath the lock of a window before gripping it and tearing the frame from its hinges.

  “I think I’m in good hands,” Rogers replied. “You do what you gotta do.”

  Whitaker waved at him. “Hey Rogers, we’re in,” she declared.

  The Detective patted Mathis on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em,” he said, “and we’ll see you on the other side.” He saluted his new friend and headed over to the window. He motioned for Whitaker to go first, but she pursed her lips and pointed for him to go.

  He held up his hands, palms out, and clambered up through the hole. He staggered a bit into the classroom, which looked eerily untouched from the last day of school before the apocalypse. He raised his gun and gave it a sweep just to be sure, thankful that the morning sun streamed in on this side to illuminate it so well.

  Whitaker vaulted in gracefully, nary a stumble, and fell into a crouch, joining the sweep as the landed on her boots. “Any idea where the equipment room is?” she asked.

  “Not a clue,” Rogers replied, and shook his head. “But this place isn’t that big. Let’s hit the gym and go from there.”

  She nodded. “Lead the way.”

  The Detective reached the classroom door, slowly opening it while keeping his handgun at the ready. Whitaker had her own handgun and flashlight ready to go, and nodded.

  He threw open the door and they burst into the hallway, back to back, each checking a side. At the far end there were three zombies who began to stagger towards the light.

  “We’re clear behind us,” Rogers reported.

  Whitaker nodded. “Let’s head this way and take these guys out.”

  They walked casually forward, checking each doorway as they passed, finding them locked up tight.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Whitaker asked as they walked.

  The Detective nodded. “Go for it.”

  “Did the Cartel really shoot your ear off to teach you a lesson?” She motioned to her own ear for emphasis.

  Rogers cocked his head. “Well if I’m being honest,” he admitted, “Rodriguez didn’t do it to teach me a lesson.”

  “Wait, Rodriguez did that to you?” Her eyes widened as she let go of another locked door handle. “Isn’t that the guy we’re trying to help take control of things?”

  He chuckled. “The very same.” He raised his gun to fire into the trio of zombies, taking out one with a headshot.

  Whitaker fired twice, two quick bullets to the face, and the corpses dropped. They waited for a moment, straining their ears to make sure nothing else was coming for them.

  “Okay,” she said finally, “you’re gonna need to explain that one to me.”

  Rogers shrugged. “Not much to tell, really,” he replied. “He did it to save my life. I was in a tight spot, and it was the only way to convince the others in the room that he took me out.”

  “I’m guessing you trust him, then?” she asked, checking another door.

  The Detective nodded firmly. “He risked his life to save mine, you can’t discount that,” he replied. “Plus, it’s not like we have many other viable options at our disposal.”

  “This is true.” Whitaker sighed.

  They turned the corner into a wide hallway and noted the set of double doors at the end, glass panels showing off the basketball nets inside.

  “Looks like we found the gym,” Rogers said.

  They made their way to the door, pinning themselves against it and peeking through the glass. It was a typical gymnasium, hardwood floor with several basketball hoops and sets of bleachers. What wasn’t typical was the dozen or so zombies roaming about.

  “Thank god it’s not a capacity crowd,” Rogers muttered.

  Whitaker checked her handgun ammo. “Not going to be difficult to handle, though.”

  The Detective narrowed his eyes, studying something along the far wall.

  “Something catch your eye?” Whitaker raised an eyebrow.

  He pursed his lips. “Not yet.” He put his fingers to his lips in a hush sign, and then gently pushed the door open just a smidge so he could look down the baseline to the wall. He grinned at the sight of an equipment door left ajar.

  He closed the door silently and grinned. “Bingo.”

  “Got our room?” Whitaker asked.

  He nod
ded. “Yep, just a quick trot up the baseline and we’re in.”

  “And of those things in our way?” she raised an eyebrow.

  “Nope,” he replied, shaking his head. “Closest one is near mid-court.”

  Whitaker holstered her weapon. “What do you say we test out those bats?” she asked. “You know, quality control.”

  The Detective winked at her and put his gun away too.

  “Just so you’re aware,” she said with a smirk, “that firefight in New Mexico started because a guy grabbed my ass without permission.”

  He grinned. “Guess I’ll have to wait for permission, then.” He stepped into the gym, and she chuckled, shaking her head before following him in. They jogged to the equipment room, and scanned the walls.

  Every kind of ball lined the walls, packing the room full of stuff. Finally after a bit of digging, Rogers found a barrel full of little league bats. He stood up with one.

  “Batter up!” he said, holding it out to Whitaker.

  She held up her finger. “Hang on a sec.” She grabbed a thick rubber dodge ball, noting the zombies attracted to the rummaging noises from the equipment room. She reeled back and hoofed it full speed out of the room. It smacked a zombie directly in the face, sending it tumbling back onto its ass.

  She grabbed the bat and stepped out onto the court. A ghoul tripped over its fallen friend, and Whitaker let loose with a vicious swing, catching the creature right in the temple. The force of the blow and the angle sent the zombie flying off to the side, slamming against the wall before hitting the ground.

  “You were right,” she said in awe. “This shorter length is much more efficient than the full sized ones. I never would have thought of this.”

  Rogers emerged carrying his own bat, slamming it down on the top of the dodge ball zombie’s head, crippling it before it could regain its footing.

  “Yeah, my neighbor was on the force with me, and every now and then he'd get stuck on the overnight shift,” he explained. “His kid was like six or seven, so he asked if I could hit a few grounders to him after work. Turned into a daily ritual there for a while.”

  Whitaker smiled as she took out another ghoul with a ping! “That’s unexpectedly wholesome,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, after dealing with the shitshow in this city, it was a welcome reprieve from reality,” he replied, and turned to cave in the head of another skull. “Speaking of escaping reality. Mind if I hit some grounders to you after this?”

  She smirked. “I’m more of an indoor activities kind of girl.” She rushed towards the next two zombies closest to her. She swung, hitting the first one so hard it tumbled into the other one, sending them both to the ground. She didn’t let up, immediately cracking their skulls.

  Rogers cracked a smile, and stepped up to join her as they carefully but casually walked around the gym, taking out the zombies one by one. Within a few minutes, the job was done, creatures splayed across the hardwood with caved-in heads.

  “Well, that’s twelve down,” he said. “So, we’re like halfway there, right?”

  As soon as he was finished speaking, there was the sound of muffled gunshots from outside.

  Whitaker inclined her head. “Sounds like they’re taking out the other half now.”

  Rogers nodded. “Pretty sure there’s a duffel bag in the storage room. Let’s load up and head out.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mathis remained at the corner of the building well after Rogers and Whitaker had entered the building. The zombies across the street remained fixated on the middle school. He let his mind wander a bit, wondering what drew their attention in the first place.

  Did some poor soul try to find refuge in the building, only to become trapped like those in the high school? he thought. Did an animal get spooked by them and end up cornered in the entrance way? Or did one of those dumb motherfuckers see their reflection in the glass and try to attack it, only to have dozens of others join it?

  He shook his head, reminding himself that it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

  Gunshots rang out in the distance.

  “About damn time, Landry,” he muttered, and slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder, preparing to make a run for it. As he waited, he noticed that only a couple of the zombies on the fringe edge of the horde were attracted by the noise, with most staying put.

  Shit, he thought, the building must have shielded them from the sound.

  He gave it another few moments, hoping that more would break away, but they never did. Finally Mathis pulled his rifle from his shoulder and aimed downrange.

  He took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” He squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet from his high-powered rifle ripped through the back of a zombie skull and pierced straight through into the head of the creature in front of it, dropping them both. The thundering blast from the weapon gained the attention of several zombies, and they turned his way, mouths open with hungry screams.

  He aimed and fired a few more times, getting the majority of his horde to turn his way. As they began to shamble towards him, he slung his weapon over his shoulder again.

  Mathis walked out into the parking lot of the elementary school, keeping a close eye on the several dozen zombies from the middle school slowly working their way towards him. He moved over to the far left side of the lot, drawing the attention of the creatures towards him. Even those furthest away to the right joined them, and away from his air conditioner.

  “That’s right, come on,” he said, waving them forward. “Just need a few seconds to work with.”

  He kept his head on a swivel, making sure that his gunfire didn’t attract any unwanted attention from other areas. Luckily, no surprise hordes showed up. He focused on the air conditioner, noting that the zombies were a good twenty yards away from it.

  He took a deep breath, and then broke into a sprint, running diagonally across the parking lot to the right and towards the road. The zombies just reached the asphalt, and he ran along the line, keeping about ten yards between him and the front of the horde. He darted around them and made a beeline directly for the air conditioner. The zombies turned, following the movement and sound, and began to return towards the school.

  Mathis reached the unit, and hopped up on top of it, hauling himself the four feet up onto the bright silver metal. He turned to the roof and fell into a crouch, ready to spring up and grab the edge of the roof. He leapt up, but his fingertips barely grazed the edge, slipping off and sending him back down onto the unit with a metallic thunk.

  Shit, I’m too heavy.

  He took off his rifle and tossed it up onto the roof, and then hucked his ammunition bag up there as well. Once he heard the safe clang of his equipment, he jumped again, and managed to wrap his fingers around the edge.

  Just as he strained his biceps to haul himself up, there was a crackling, scraping sound, and the aluminum siding crumbled beneath his weight. His eyes widened at the realization, too late to do anything, and he careened down. He tried to get his feet under him, but there wasn’t enough height, and he hit the AC unit hard with his back, flopping down onto the ground.

  Moans overwhelmed him as he struggled to breathe, the wind knocked out of him from the fall. He drew his handgun and fired at two of the closest zombies, dropping them so that the others would trip over them, buying him a precious few seconds as he hobbled towards the front of the school, gasping and huffing.

  He found them locked, yanking on them desperately. He glanced back over his shoulder, seeing that he only had a few seconds before the ghouls were on him. He fired at the glass portion of the door, shattering it. He dove headfirst through, the small jagged pieces still sticking up from the bottom of the frame tearing into his gut.

  He seethed, but none felt too deep, and he aimed at the hole that the zombies clustered around. They reached through at him, but with it being chest-height, they couldn’t get in. He fired at the lead zombie, and it slumped
into the hole, acting as a plug, at least for the time being.

  Mathis took a moment to gather himself, taking a look at his wounds and finally taking a deep, nourishing breath after having the wind knocked out of him back there.

  A moan echoed in the darkness and he whipped towards the noise, aiming his handgun. He stayed motionless, waiting for something to emerge from the shadows, but it never did. He reached for his flashlight, and turned it on.

  The light revealed a zombie missing the bottom portion of its legs, crawling towards him. It was hard to tell if they had been eaten off or crushed, but either way, he grimaced at the sight and walked over, using his knife to end the creature’s misery.

  “Okay,” he muttered to himself, “think, how the fuck you gettin up to the roof now?” He looked around, down each hallway, trying to figure something out. Finally he focused on a sign on the wall with an arrow pointing to the right that read Auditorium.

  He tapped his chin.

  If any place is going to have roof access, it’s gotta be that, he thought. If they got lights, they gotta have a big-ass power source.

  He headed down the hallway, acutely aware of the superficial yet annoying wounds from the glass. He kept his gun and flashlight aimed high, and paused at every door opening on the way, careful. He reached the auditorium doors, and cracked one open to peek inside.

  He was relieved to find the place deserted. “About damn time something went my way.”

  He pulled the door open full and strolled into the cavernous room. He headed up the center aisle, making his way to the stage before hopping up. There was a ladder that went up to the catwalk above, but before heading that way he turned to the empty seats, taking a bow in the middle of the stage.

  “Thank you, thank you, everyone,” he said, blowing kisses to an invisible crowd. “I have indeed found my way to the top!” He chuckled to himself and climbed up the ladder to the catwalk. He shone his flashlight along the ceiling, finally finding a small hatch and popping it open easily.

  As he emerged up onto the roof, the sun blinded him for a brief moment, which sent his heart into overdrive, considering there may be a threat nearby. He scrambled up and squinted, raising his handgun just in case, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized he was alone.