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

by Derek Slaton

  “I got this, keep on that window!” the soldier yelled.

  A crash echoed from the kitchen, on the back of the house, and Trenton broke from his window to check.

  “They’re inside!” he yelled, opening fire at the few zombies that had broken through the back glass patio door. It was as if the flood gates had opened, and the corpses began to pour in through the busted doors.

  Landry continued to hold the front door up with everything he had, knowing if he let up they’d be done for. Trenton continued to shoot into the kitchen but was forced to begin backing up to give himself enough room to fire.

  “Get to the back bedroom!” Landry yelled. He turned to Reed, who made a run for it, followed quickly by Trenton. Landry took a deep breath and lunged away from the door.

  As soon as his weight left it, the entire frame gave way and a flood of zombies poured into the living room. He didn’t turn or fire, just ran as fast as he could down the hallway where the others waited for him.

  As soon as he got inside, Reed toppled a dresser across the door, sealing it, at least for the moment.

  Landry lifted his walkie-talkie to his lips. “Leon, where the hell is our backup?”

  “Patching you in now,” came the reply.

  The line clicked before Hammond came through, “Looks like you boys have a bit of a shitshow going on in there.”

  “Under-fucking-statement, Sarge,” Landry snapped.

  “What’s your status?” Hammond asked.

  The soldier took a deep breath. “Full breach of the house,” he reported. “We’re holed up in the back bedroom on the east side.”

  The door frame to the bedroom began to creak and moan.

  “Landry!” Trenton cried, pushing against the dresser.

  The soldier hit the button on the radio again. “Thanks to some shitty fucking construction, not sure how long we can hold out.”

  “Stay calm, we’ll get you out,” Hammond replied.

  Outside, about a half a block away, the truck stood, looking at the backyard from the south. Zombies completely surrounded the property, not a single inch of space that wasn’t occupied by a creature around the single story dwelling.

  “There’s hundreds of those things,” Whitaker breathed. “No way we can clear enough of them out to get to Landry.”

  Clara nodded in agreement. “Fire’s out, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m open to ideas,” Hammond replied.

  Rogers stared at the house, rubbing his chin, studying the property. He gazed up at a huge tree overhanging the house. He held out his hand for the radio.

  “May I?” he asked.

  Hammond handed over the device.

  “Hey Landry, it’s Rogers,” the Detective said. “I have an idea to get you boys out.”

  “I’m all ears, cowboy,” Landry replied, hope in his voice.

  Rogers took a deep breath. “I need you to get up on the roof.”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “How in the hell are we supposed to do that?” Landry came back. “We’re trapped in a bedroom and the attic door isn’t in here.”

  Rogers sighed. “Well. You said the house has shitty fucking construction,” he said dryly. “Just use one of those high-powered guns to shoot a hole in the ceiling and climb up.”

  There was another brief moment of silence.

  “Well shit,” Landry said sheepishly, “that’ll work. What the hell are we supposed to do once we’re up there?”

  “There’s a tree in the neighbor’s yard that reaches over the roof,” Rogers explained. “You should be able to use it to get out of the yard. Once you’re on it, we’ll have Clara here light ’em up.”

  Inside, the door to the bedroom broke free from the top of the frame, Trenton and Reed pressing up against the dresser with all they had.

  “We’re on it,” Landry said into the radio, and pocketed it before loading a fresh mag into his rifle. He flipped it to burst fire mode, and aimed at the ceiling. “Going hot!” he yelled, and unleashed several blasts into the ceiling, the cheap drywall shredding with each shot.

  After half a dozen trigger pulls, there was a decent sized hole in the ceiling.

  “Reed, give me a hand,” the soldier said.

  The young man in question glanced at his companion. “You got this?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Trenton assured him, pressing against the dresser as hard as he could. “Go help him.”

  Reed rushed over as the soldier climbed a bookcase against the wall. He held out his hand to steady Landry as he got his footing and started slamming the butt of his rifle into the ceiling, clearing out the debris to give them a path to the attic. He handed his rifle down, and then leapt up, grabbing one of the beams that connected to the other side of the house.

  Once he was up, he drew his flashlight and handgun to do a quick sweep. “Clear, thank fuck,” he called, and then took a knee beside the hole. “Come on Reed, you’re next,” he said, and reached down for his gun.

  He helped pull Reed up, who grimaced at the stretching in his wound, pressing his hand hard against it as he knelt next to the hole.

  “You gonna make it?” Landry asked.

  Reed nodded and waved him off. The soldier laid down flat and stuck his head down through the hole, looking upside down at Trenton.

  “Yo, you’re up!” he cried. “Just run over and jump for my hand, I’ll get you up.”

  Trenton nodded shakily. “Okay.” He swallowed hard. “You ready?”

  “Yeah, do it!” Landry cried, hanging his hands down.

  Trenton leapt from the dresser, lunging towards Landry. As soon as he stepped away, the top half of the door crashed in, nearly tripping him up. Zombies poured into the room as he jumped for the outstretched hands. His legs dangled in the air as Landry yanked, and Reed reached down to help, pulling him up just as the zombies clustered in the center of the room.

  “You all right?” Trenton huffed as Reed fell onto his ass, wincing in pain.

  “I really wish you guys would stop asking that,” he snapped. “If I’m not fine, I’ll fucking tell you, okay?”

  “Come on,” Landry cut in, giving Trenton a sympathetic nod. “We still gotta get through the roof.”

  He motioned for the two men to sit tight as he walked gingerly across the wooden platform in the attic. With as cheap as the material was, he didn’t want to risk anyone falling through. As he walked, he tapped on the roof with the butt of his rifle, hoping to find a weak spot. Finally he found one that gave way sightly.

  “This is it,” he muttered, and slammed his rifle through a rotted portion of the wood.

  Shingles cracked, and once there was a small hole, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and used his hands to pry the rest loose to make it big enough for them to fit.

  “This shit is slanted,” he called back, “so make sure you have your footing before moving up.”

  The other two nodded at him, creeping to his position, and he went first, hauling himself up through the hole. He made sure his foot was secure on the shingles before attempting to move up to the center. He took out his knife and slammed it into the crappy material so the boys would have something to hold on to.

  As he pulled himself to the top of the roof, he looked down on both sides, noting the veritable sea of zombies. To the south stood Hammond and the crew with a big truck, waving at him. He waved back as Reed came up behind him.

  “Who in the hell are you waving at?” he demanded.

  Landry pointed to the Sergeant, prompting the younger man to wave as well.

  “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Reed asked suddenly. “I already asked Trenton and he agreed.”

  Landry nodded. “Anything, kid.”

  “Don’t tell the others about my bite?” he asked, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “We still have so much shit to do today, and it’s only going to lead to pointless worrying. I know what my fate is, no sense in jeopardizing what needs to be done.”

&nbs
p; Landry nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “You tell them whenever you’re ready,” he said. “So long as it’s by tomorrow. Can’t risk you changing on us, after all.”

  Reed couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Military guy, through and through.” He nodded as Trenton finally made it up to the top.

  “Hell of a view, ain’t it?” he asked, and pulled the knife from the roof to hand it back to Landry.

  The soldier sheathed it. “Yeah, just make sure you appreciate it from afar,” he instructed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  He led the trio across the roof to the tree limb. It was huge, sturdy enough to support several people. One by one, they filed onto it, and climbed over to the neighbor’s yard. A few zombies below caught sight of them, reaching up and moaning at the dinner that was just out of reach.

  As soon as they dropped into the empty yard, Hammond and Clara sprung into action. The Sergeant drove up to the back edge of the horde and his fire starter unleashed a torrent of flame, coating the bulk of the zombies in the backyard.

  “Hit the house!” Hammond yelled.

  She raised her aim and landed some liquid fire on the roof, quickly engulfing the structure where their friends had been trapped.

  “Good girl!” the Sergeant called through the window. “Hang on, we’re gonna swing around to the front!”

  Hammond sped around, greeted by a few hundred creatures in the front yard. He opened fire from the driver’s seat, taking down the ghouls closest to him as Clara unleashed her fire all over the place.

  Rogers and Whitaker, in the meantime, met up with the trio in the neighbor’s yard, staying tight against the fence.

  Landry grinned as he hit the ground. “Man am I gl-”

  Whitaker put her hand over his mouth, and motioned for him to follow Rogers. The Detective led them to the south, through a yard and away from the carnage that Hammond and Clara created in the front.

  Finally, after a block of distance between them and the horde, Whitaker smiled. “Glad to see you too, Landry,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Seems like you boys got in a bit over your heads.”

  “Nah, we handled ourselves just fine,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “But it was good to have some help. Could have been useful throughout the day.”

  Rogers nodded. “Well, I’m just glad you guys got outta there in one piece,” he said. “If that tree wasn’t there, that could have been bad.”

  “Detective, I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that there’s no way in hell we’re doing another run like that,” Trenton declared.

  Landry raised his hands, palms out. “A-fucking-men brother. A-fucking-men.”

  “Reed, do you concur?” Rogers asked, and there was a long awkward silence as the kid stared off into space. “Reed? You with me, buddy?”

  “Huh?” the younger man blurted, and then nodded like a bobblehead. “Oh. Yeah, I’m not doing another run of that.”

  Rogers nodded and pulled out his radio. “Hey, Leon, you copy?”

  “Go ahead, Rogers,” Leon replied.

  “I think we need to regroup,” the Detective said, “because this fire team stuff just isn’t cutting it.”

  “I think I might have an idea brewing up,” Leon said. “Why don’t you make your way back to the command center, and we’ll discuss it?”

  Rogers nodded. “As soon as Hammond and Clara get back from the bonfire, we’ll be up there.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” Leon replied.

  The Detective put the radio away as the truck rolled up.

  “Man, that fire is raging!” Hammond declared proudly. “Another few hundred of those fuckers down. Landry, are you boys ready for another run?”

  Rogers shook his head. “We’re changing gears.” He motioned for everyone to hop up into the back with Clara. “Head up to the command. Leon has an idea.”

  The Sergeant rolled his eyes. “Oh hell, we’re in trouble now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Leon, what do you have for us?” Rogers asked as they entered the command center.

  The man in question hunched over his computer, carefully studying the area around the school. “Come here and check this out.”

  The group huddled around, pleased to see the massive horde at the school had thinned out quite a bit.

  “So it looks like the fire team did their jobs, because there is a significant reduction in zombies,” Leon said, pointing to different areas on the screen. “You can even see a fair amount of grass in the center there.”

  Hammond clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Well I’ll be damned, you did a hell of a job, Landry.”

  “First time for everything,” Whitaker quipped.

  Landry put up his hands. “Hey now,” he declared, “I didn’t do this shit alone. Disparage me all you want, but these boys kicked ass out there today.” He was uncharacteristically serious in his delivery, and his teammates were taken aback.

  Whitaker turned to the boys. “Trenton. Reed. Good job out there.”

  “Agreed,” Hammond added. “Good job.”

  “Anyway,” Leon cut in, “with the cracks showing in the horde, I think we can use the busses that Hammond and Clara found.”

  Rogers rubbed his forehead. “Oh, this oughta be good,” he moaned. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, that’s a big enough gap to drive them through,” Leon said. “So there’s seven of you. We get three buses on each side, drive them through on either side and create a kill zone in the center of the field. Buses will act as a firewall against the flames, so you can burn them up.”

  Hammond and Clara shook their heads in tandem.

  “Couple problems with that, buddy,” the Sergeant said, putting up a hand. “First off, those buses aren’t going to have enough horsepower to push their way through the masses.”

  Leon cocked his head. “And the other problem?”

  “There’s only four buses,” Clara replied.

  “Fucking hell.” Leon scrubbed his hands down his face. “That’s not enough to block off both sides. Guess we’re back to the fire teams.”

  Landry shook his head emphatically. “Fuck no, we’re not.”

  The room devolved into bickering back and forth, with the exception of Rogers who leaned into the monitor, studying it quietly.

  “Hey, Leon,” he said, but the room ignored him. “Hey.” He stood up, and still ignored, put his fingers in his mouth and let out a deafening whistle.

  Everyone went silent, staring at him.

  “Leon, can you get Mathis on the line?” Rogers asked.

  His friend pulled out his radio. “Hey Mathis, you there?”

  “Yeah, what you need?” came the quick reply.

  “I’m putting you on speaker,” Leon said. “The rest of the group is here.”

  Mathis scoffed. “What?” he asked. “Everybody go on break and forget to tell me?”

  “Hey, it’s Rogers,” the Detective said. “Feel free to take five. I need your eyes.”

  “What do you need, Detective?” the sniper asked.

  Rogers leaned over the radio. “How much of that crowd have you been able to draw your way with your firing?”

  “I’ve got maybe half of them paying attention to me,” Mathis replied. “Had a little more looking my way when I was covering for the fire team, but once I stopped shooting, they stopped caring.”

  Rogers nodded. “Okay, good, good,” he said. “Now, I need you to look over the side of the wall and see if there are any speakers attached. You know, for the intercom system.”

  “Okay, hang tight a sec,” Mathis said. After a few moments, he came back, “Yeah, Detective, got two big ones here.”

  Rogers grinned. “All right thank you,” he said. “Hold on, we’ll be back with you in a minute.” He turned to Leon. “We’re going to sacrifice the middle school to save the high school.”

  Landry straightened up. “Hell yeah, let’s hear it.”

  “We
’re going to sacrifice the middle school,” Rogers repeated, pointing to the monitor. “Whitaker and I can get in there, get to the office, and use the intercom system to create enough noise to draw the horde to us. Once they pull away from the high school, the rest of you can use the buses to create the firewall between the zombies and the high school. Then light ‘em up.”

  Trenton furrowed his brow. “But how are you going to get the intercom to work?”

  “They’re hardwired with a battery backup,” Leon cut in. “They do it that way in case of emergency.”

  Trenton nodded. “Only concern I had.”

  The room went silent for a moment, as if in anticipation of someone throwing out another objection or issue, but nobody did.

  “Well, all right then, let’s load this bitch up,” Hammond declared. “We need to stop by the gas station to fill up our flame throwers, and then we’ll be off to the bus depot.”

  Rogers nodded. “That should give us enough time to get into the school,” he said. “We’ll retreat into the desert past the elementary school, so if you wouldn’t mind picking us up afterward?”

  “I think that can be arranged,” Hammond replied with a grin, and led his team towards the truck.

  Whitaker kept pace with the Detective, bringing up the rear. “Since you so graciously volunteered me for your suicide run, I’m guessing you have a plan to get us out?”

  “Same way we go in,” Rogers assured her. “We clear a path, put the intercom into a feedback loop, open the doors to the horde, run out the front door, and then set it on fire.”

  She let out a deep whoosh of breath. “Oh good, for a second there I thought it was going to be something crazy.”

  “Well, since the last time someone forced themselves onto you a war broke out, please allow me to say this.” Rogers rested a hand over his heart. “Whitaker, would you do me the honor of going on this suicide mission with me?” He held out his free hand to her.

  She burst out laughing. “You’re something else, Rogers.” She playfully took his hand and they headed towards the truck.