by Derek Slaton
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Whitaker and Rogers took cover behind the same corner that Mathis had manned before his run to the school. They carried their normal weapons, as well as water gun flamethrowers slung over their shoulders.
Unlike last time, however, there were only a handful of zombies between them and the front door. Rogers studied the front entrance, and his heart sank.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered.
Whitaker’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Check out the front door,” he said. “It’s open.”
She stared at the shattered double doors. “Fucking hell.”
“Looks like we’re in for a fight,” he said with a sigh. “You game?”
She laughed. “Game?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen you in action, and I’m willing to bet that I take out more of them than you do.”
“I’m down for that.” He smirked. “If I lose, I’ll make you a home-cooked meal.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about dessert?”
“Only if you give me permission.” He winked at her. “But what if I win?”
She shot him a sly smile. “You get dessert.”
“Well batter fucking up,” Rogers declared, and raised his little league bat.
The duo ran towards the school, pausing only to crack a few skulls standing between them and the entrance.
Whitaker grinned as they reached the shattered doors. “That’s three to two,” she teased.
“Long way to go, yet,” he replied.
They braced themselves against the still standing doors, peering through the busted glass. There was one unmoving corpse, but several bloody footprints heading in multiple directions.
“Office should be near the front,” the Detective said quietly. “We find it, clear the room, and then you keep watch while I get the intercom going.”
Whitaker nodded. “I’m good with that,” she said, “lead the way.”
They leaned their flamethrowers against the insides of the door, readying them for retreat. Rogers headed through the lobby first, reading his bat in case anything came out of the shadows. Whitaker stayed behind him, trying to look down the hallways, but it was very dark.
“Hit your light,” Rogers said quietly.
She pulled out her flashlight, scanning the area.
“Got it,” he said, noting the Office sign. He led them down the hallway, still waiting for the owners of the blood footprints to surprise them. As he reached the office door, he noticed a zombie wandering about. He motioned for Whitaker to turn off her flashlight to avoid alerting it.
The lighting was dim, but the Detective could see well enough to go inside and crack the unsuspecting ghoul on the back of the head. Whitaker followed him in and shut the door. The click of the latch was a lot louder than she’d thought it would be.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
Rogers shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, just stand guard.”
He pulled out his own flashlight and worked his way to the back of the office, finding no other resistance. He stared down at the intercom system, which looked like it had been there since the sixties. There was a large metallic microphone attached to the long wire. He studied the control panel before finding the all speaker button. He flicked it on.
“Testing, testing,” he said into it, and his voice boomed throughout the school. He glanced down at the speaker in the corner, and waved the microphone around in front of it. As he set the piece down, a deafening feedback squeal screeched throughout the building.
“That is a fucking horrific sound!” Whitaker declared.
Rogers shrugged as he headed back over to her. “Yeah, but it’ll draw them over to the building, which is all that matters.”
“So where to, now?” she asked.
He inclined his head. “Gotta get to the field doors so they can start coming inside.”
“Lead the way,” she said, and opened the door.
Rogers stepped through and then grunted as a zombie grabbed him. He reacted quickly, pressing into the creature’s chest, and Whitaker didn’t miss a beat, immediately caving its skull in.
As the ghoul crumpled to the floor, the Detective raised a finger. “I’m gonna make an executive decision and count that one as two points.”
“Damn right you are,” Whitaker said with a grin. “Come on, let’s get moving. I don’t know how much longer I can handle that god awful noise.”
They ran off down the hallway back towards the lobby before turning towards the main corridor towards the field doors. Whitaker held up the flashlight as the Detective took batter duty. As they approached the back doors, there were a few zombies standing in their way.
“You need help?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nah, just keep the light on them. Gotta go earn that dessert.”
She shook her head as he stepped up and started cracking skulls. He dispatched the trio of zombies in record time with finesse.
“Forget the fire,” Whitaker said, impressed, “with you swinging like that you should be able to clear them all out in short order.”
Rogers grinned. “Amazing what men can do when properly motivated, huh?” He reached the doors and he peered through the tiny sliver between them. “This is gonna be dangerous as hell,” he murmured.
“How do you want to do it?” she asked quietly.
He took a deep breath. “We’re going to have to push one of them open, so they can get a grip on it and slide through,” he said. “With any luck, they’ll be able to open it up completely.”
“That sounds exceedingly dangerous.” Whitaker pursed her lips.
Rogers shrugged. “Unless you have a grenade on you, I’m not sure what else we can do.”
She tapped on the hinges, noting the hollow ping. “Doesn’t look like they used the best materials,” she mused. “Might be able to shoot the hinges off.”
“We’d still have the problem of opening the door,” the Detective pointed out.
She shook her head. “But this way there’s a better chance of it getting free of the frame.”
“Good enough for me,” Rogers replied with a shrug. “You want to do the honors?”
Whitaker waved for him to follow her. “We might want to take cover first.” She led them to a nearby classroom door, setting up just behind it. She handed him her flashlight. “Shine it on the hinges, and I'll do the rest.”
The Detective nodded and did so. As the light shone on the top hinge, she took aim and fired a three-round burst. The bullets ripped through the metal, breaking it away from the frame.
“Hell yeah, one more,” Rogers declared.
Whitaker shot out the other one and then pointed. “All right, you’re up.”
“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were doing this together.”
She winked at him. “That’s what you get for thinking.”
He chuckled, and moved towards the door. He pushed on the hinge side, confirming that it was free from the door frame. He reached out for the release, and paused. He took a step back and reached out with his bat, pressing it against the release. He looked back over his shoulder, and Whitaker nodded that she was ready to go. Rogers took a deep breath and pushed the release hard, opening the door just enough for zombies to get their hands inside.
As soon as they pulled the door open, the Detective turned tail and ran. Soon it was open side enough for a zombie to get through, and then two. He joined Whitaker and they watched as the creatures struggled with the doors, but eventually got it out of the way of the frame. Within moments, dozens of zombies poured into the school.
The duo headed for the front door, and Rogers pulled out his radio. “Leon, it’s Rogers.”
“Status?” came the reply.
The Detective followed Whitaker into the main hall. “Door is breached and zombies are pouring in. Let Mathis know we’re going to move soon.”
“I’ll tell him to get to the rally point,” Leon replied. “I’ll also let the bu
s teams know to move.”
Rogers nodded. “We’ll let you know when we’re safe.”
“Copy that,” Leon replied.
Rogers put the radio away and the duo grabbed their flamethrowers, backing up into the street.
“You do realize we’re about to live out every middle school kid’s fantasy, right?” the Detective asked.
Whitaker shook her head. “Not me.”
“You never wanted to burn down the school at that age?” Rogers raised an eyebrow.
She grinned. “Nah, I was always more of an explosives kinda girl.”
“Woman after my own heart.” He chuckled.
She pulled out a lighter and set their steel wool on fire. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” He nodded.
They unleashed a torrent of flame towards the oncoming zombies. The flames grew hot as the horde became a mass of fiery flesh inside the lobby. As the fire raged, the duo turned and jogged off to the rally point behind the elementary school.
They didn’t get too far before they heard Mathis jumping down off of the building onto the air conditioning unit he’d tried to use to get up there. He ran over to them, glancing back at the school quickly going up in flames.
“Goddamn, you two don’t mess around, do you?” the sniper asked as he reached them.
Whitaker grinned. “You know me,” she replied. “If I’m going to do something, I’m gonna do it big.”
“Oh, I know.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been in many a firefight as a result.”
Rogers smirked. “Those sound like some fun stories.”
“Fun is certainly one word for it,” Mathis replied dryly as they headed off to wait for their ride.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A few blocks from the high school, four buses sat alongside Hammond’s truck.
“Okay, let’s go over the plan one more time,” the Sergeant said. “Once we get the signal, Clara is gonna lead this parade to the high school. Pick a point about twenty yards from the building, or closer if possible, and drive on up. Once you get situated, use the escape hatch to get on top and light those fuckers up. I’ll be on pickoff duty if any of those flaming fucks gets around you. When the flames hit the buses, hop down into the truck bed and we’ll be off to drink to our victory. Any questions?”
Trenton raised a hand. “Yeah, why do you get to drive the truck and we have to jump off the back of a bus?”
“Because I hot-wired this bitch,” Hammond replied. “Finders keepers and whatnot.”
A laugh rippled across the group at the childlike logic. Immediately after, the horrific feedback squeal came from the middle school.
“Mother of god, that’s horrible,” Clara said, wincing.
Hammond poked at one of his ears. “Sounds like my hearing after going to an Iron Maiden show.”
“You know Sarge, you really should use ear plugs when you go to those shows,” Landry suggested.
Hammond scoffed. “And dilute Maiden? Hell no! Now come on, let’s roll out.”
Everyone manned their vehicles, and started them up. Clara popped hers into gear and began to rumble down the street towards the high school. As she made the turn onto the side street that led to the field, she saw the massive horde shifting towards the high-pitched noise.
As she got close to the end of the road, she slammed on the gas to rumble across the grassy field. There were still a few zombies stragglers towards the back of the pack, and she slammed into them at full speed.
A few of them disintegrated on impact, leaving a fine crimson mist sprinkled with bone. A few others went flying through the air, eventually landing on top of the horde like a crowd surfer at a concert.
Clara reached the end of the field and slammed on the brakes. There were still a few zombies ahead of her, but she knew that Hammond would take care of them. She grabbed her flamethrower and moved towards the back emergency hatch in the roof. As she moved, she had to brace herself as the bus behind gave her a light tap on the bumper.
“Jesus Trenton, calm down there,” she muttered, and glanced through the back window to see him giving an apologetic wave. She shook her head and moved beneath the hatch, standing on the seats to reach it and pop it open.
As she pulled herself up on top, she looked out over the sea of zombies, some clamoring for her, while others continued the push towards the middle school. The building in question started to smoke, and she lit up her own flamethrower in solidarity. She looked around at her teammates, all ready with smoldering steel wool.
Clara raised her hand. “Light ’em up, boys!” she cried, and the quartet sprayed streams of liquid fire over the massive horde.
They aimed up to try to get as much reach as possible, and the flames spread quickly, catching clothes and melting flesh. Grass singed and curled, and soon smoke filled the air, obstructing their view of the battlefield.
Hair melted, flesh bubbled, and the stench was almost as horrendous as the shrieking feedback noise as the flames reached the line of buses.
One by one, the four of them hopped back down into the waiting truck bed behind them, exchanging high fives.
“Holy shit, that actually worked!” Trenton declared.
Landry whooped. “Not to mention it was a hell of a lot of fun, too!”
They laughed as the truck pulled up to the pickup point.
The only one still stoic was Reed, as he stared at the flaming mass. He felt pride in having helped secure the town, but the throbbing pain in his side reminded him of the price he’d paid to do it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ethel passed out cups of hot coffee, and the group took the steaming mugs happily.
“I gotta say, that went a hell of a lot better than I expected,” Hammond admitted. “Most of the city is still standing, and we’re here having a cup of joe while those fuckers smolder. Good day all around.”
The group raised their mugs and let out a cheer, save for Landry’s trio. The Sergeant clapped his Private on the shoulder.
“Goddamn Landry, lighten up,” Hammond said. “You don’t have to be salty just because you had to do the most running today.”
His friend gazed at the floor. “Yeah, you know me Sarge, not a fan of the cardio.”
“We’re up!” Leon spoke up as the satellite computer clicked on. “Let’s see how things are looking.” He pulled up the imagery around the high school. It was a smoldering mess, with the zombie horde a motionless mass instead of a writhing ball.
The middle school was still smoking, but it hadn’t spread anywhere else. The buses were complete wrecks, but they’d done their job.
“Doesn’t look like much is still moving out there,” Leon mused. He moved the camera around the area. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. Looks like we need to do a couple more sweeps before we can pull the survivors from the high school.”
Whitaker patted the Detective on the shoulder. “Slugger and I can handle that, no problem. Sarge here can handle the evacuation.”
Hammond downed the rest of his coffee in a single gulp. “Well, let’s get it done. I’m ready to start drinking to celebrate.” He glanced at Landry, who didn’t respond. “Landry, Jesus, what is up with you? Not even going to get excited about drinking?”
Reed threw his hands up. “Lay off him,” he snapped. “It’s my fault he’s acting like that.”
The room fell silent, everyone looking to the young man. He let out a deep sigh, and then lifted his shirt, revealing his bite.
Clara’s hands flew to her mouth, a sob escaping her lips.
“Damn, man,” Hammond stammered. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
Rogers and Leon opened their mouths at the same time, but Reed held up a hand to stop them.
“Nobody say another word about it,” he demanded. “I know how you all feel, and I appreciate the sympathies. But if I have to hear a constant stream of them, I will shoot myself in the head. I’d rather spend my time doing something productive, like getting those people out of the high school.�
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There was a moment of silence, until Rogers took a deep breath. “We’ll honor your request,” he agreed. “Just know that if there’s anything you want or need, just ask.”
“There is one thing.” Reed clasped his hands together. “I know there’s a good chance that I have a few days, but just to be safe, I want to be quarantined overnight. Leon, can you make sure I have a place to be locked up?”
The older man nodded. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
Reed picked up his gear and headed for the door. Nobody followed him, and he stopped at the door, turning around.
“Well come on now,” he said. “Time is short and those people aren’t going to free themselves.”
END
Coming Soon: The plot to assassinate Tiago Rivas continues to take shape in El Paso - Pt. 5.
Releases on May 24, 2020. Pre-order avialable below
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0887PF316
