Dead America: The Second Week Box Set [Books 1-6]

by Slaton, Derek

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head. He offered her a smile and a wink, and then turned back to the door. His smile dropped immediately at the sound of a woman whimpering, and Linda realized what room they’d approached.

  “That’s the room where they kept us,” she breathed.

  Baker shook his head. “Fuck, they have hostages.”

  “Shawn, you may want to rethink the whole hostage taking,” Kersey bellowed. “Didn’t work out too well for you the last time.”

  The door suddenly flung open, and Shawn emerged, dragging a naked woman out by the throat. He held her in front of him, using her terrified form as a human shield.

  “Put ‘em down, boys, or else the whore gets it in the head,” he demanded.

  Baker scoffed. “Yeah, we’re not doing that.”

  “Shawn,” Kersey cut in, “you gotta understand something here. This ain’t the good ole days where they’d lock you up in county for a few weeks until your lawyer could get you probation. There is a zero percent chance we’re going to let you walk out of this. Too many other things to deal with than assholes like you.”

  The girl let out a ragged sob as Shawn pressed the barrel of his gun harder into her temple. Linda locked eyes with the lackey from the doorway, an overweight fellow that she recognized.

  “Conner, it’s Linda, you remember me?” she asked gently.

  Shawn growled. “Don’t listen to that bitch, it’s you and me, buddy, stand fast.”

  “Conner,” Linda continued, ignoring the blonde. “Shawn isn’t going to be able to help you anymore. I’m going to be in charge. I know you’re a great door guard, and I’m going to have people for you to guard.”

  The frightened man nodded.

  “Goddammit Conner!” Shawn roared. “Don’t listen to her, I’m the only one you need! Shoot that bitch now!”

  “Conner,” Linda said again, voice gentle and smooth, “I’ll be forever grateful if you’ll help us disarm Shawn.” She licked her lips and batted her lashes. “And I show my gratitude.”

  The lackey’s eyes widened with realization and he immediately stepped out from the doorway, aiming his handgun at the back of Shawn’s head.

  “You stupid motherfucker,” the blonde growled.

  Conner shook his head. “I’m sorry Shawn, but I’m with her now,” he said, voice shaking.

  The blonde let out a grunt of frustration, realizing wholly that he was defeated. He raised his arms, stepping back, and Baker quickly moved to him, snatching the gun and bringing Shawn to his knees. The girl staggered away, grabbing Kersey’s vest, and he gingerly put an arm around her as she sobbed into his chest, shielding her body with his own.

  Linda approached Conner. “You did good,” she said.

  He turned nervous eyes on her. “I did?”

  “You did amazing,” she assured him, and gently took the gun from his hand. He grinned at her, and she smiled back before smashing the weapon against the bridge of his nose.

  He collapsed in shock, and she kicked him completely over, kneeling on his chest to continue raining blows down on his face. Kersey gaped at the scene, watching as she spit on the broken and blubbering man’s face.

  “Fuck you, you rapist piece of shit!” she screamed. “You’re gonna get what’s coming to you.” She moved out of the way as Baker shoved a bound Shawn down onto the floor next to Conner. He produced another zip tie to secure the bloodied man’s wrists, and Linda stepped over to join Kersey.

  The Sergeant shook his head in awe. “That was one hell of a bluff.”

  “He’s always looked at me like that,” she said bitterly. “Even before this shit went down. Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

  “Good call,” Kersey said. “Any idea on what you want to do with Shawn?”

  Linda’s eyes darkened, and she grinned deviously. “Oh yeah, I have one.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Shawn gripped the chain link fence in the gym, eyes wide with panic. He knew there was no point in trying to escape the fence hallway. He built it, after all.

  “Please,” he turned to Linda, injecting as much pain into his voice as he possibly could. “Please, I’ll do anything you want.”

  She raised her chin and stared him down. “I want you to climb.”

  He clenched his jaw, shaking his head, knowing she wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

  “Johnson, if you wouldn’t mind,” Linda said, and the Private wandered over to the door and pulled the chain to release the zombies into the fence hallway. They locked on Shawn and staggered towards him, moaning and stumbling.

  Shawn dove into the rope pen as soon as they raised the gate, grasping for the rope. He climbed frantically, screaming in fear as the zombies reached for him, barely scraping the bottom of his shoes.

  “Looks like I owe you five bucks, Sarge,” Kowalski declared.

  Kersey grinned. “Told you he was gonna get above them.”

  “Yeah, but come on, they’re touching his feet,” the Private replied, motioning to the rotting fingers brushing the screaming man’s shoes. “Can I get a judge’s ruling on that? Because I feel like that counts.”

  Linda raised a hand. “Sorry, if they ain’t eating him, it doesn’t count.”

  “Well, fuck,” Kowalski replied, but he didn’t sound all that put out.

  Kersey inclined his head to the cage at the far end of the gym, where they’d corralled the other undesirables. “What’s your plan for them?” he asked.

  “I figure we’ll let them stew in their own shit for a day or two,” Linda replied, not even sparing them a glance. “Then I’ll take ‘em out back and put a bullet in the back of their heads. Or the front, I haven’t decided yet.

  Kersey’s brow furrowed. “Linda. You’re not a killer.”

  Bretz snorted and shook his head. “Oh hell yes she is.”

  “Oh, well, I suppose the Corporal thinks otherwise,” the Sergeant said. “Regardless, I can’t let you kill them.”

  “With all due respect, Sergeant,” Linda said firmly, “you guys are leaving. I have to do what I can to ensure my people’s safety.”

  Kersey put up a hand. “I understand that. I’d like to make a deal with you.”

  “I’m listening.” Linda crossed her arms, though she was still watching Shawn struggle to stay on the rope.

  “The bulk of the surviving U.S. military is currently stationed in Kansas, and we’re on a mission to clear a path to the Northwest,” Kersey explained. “There’s going to be a major offensive, and soon. Now, my General has given me orders to find a stopover point for troops being transported to the front lines, and I think your little town would be perfect.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You want to flood my town with troops?”

  “Being a troop hub will have its benefits,” the Sergeant insisted. “Steady supply of food, medicine, doctors. Not to mention you’ll never have to worry about someone like Shawn ever again.”

  She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “Okay. I accept your offer. However, I don’t see what that has to do with offing these assholes.”

  “We’re about to go on a full war footing in this country,” Kersey said, “and even though we’ve never fought a war like this in our nation’s history, one thing remains the same.”

  Linda raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “We always have a use for warm bodies,” the Sergeant explained.

  She smiled as she imagined what would be in store for the abusive assholes if they became fodder for the military. “Okay. I’ll spare the ones in the cage,” she agreed. “But surely you can grant me a lone exception.”

  Kersey smiled, knowing what she wanted, and nodded.

  “Hey Kowalski, you any good with that thing?” Linda asked, motioning to the sniper rifle on his shoulder.

  He puffed out his chest. “I’m pretty good, actually.”

  “Fantastic.” She clapped her hands together. “Now that I’m in charge, I�
�ve decided to make some decorating decisions. First of which, is that I don’t think we’re going to need a rope in the gym anymore. I don’t know where the ladder is, would you mind taking it down for me?”

  Kowalski grinned. “Not at all, ma’am.” He tipped an invisible hat at her and unslung his rifle from his shoulder, aiming at the top of the rope.

  “No!” Shawn screamed, clambering up another knot, white knuckled. “No, please no!”

  The Private fired a well-placed shot, severing the rope and sending the shrieking blonde ex-leader down to his death. The group watched as the zombies descended on him, reaping the benefits of his own rigged game and tearing into his unwilling flesh.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Yo, Mason!” Johnson barked as the soldiers approached the waiting train. “You enjoy slacking off while the rest of us were getting shot at?”

  Mason scoffed. “Slacking off? You have any idea how cranky Bill gets when he doesn’t get enough sleep?”

  “Fair enough bubba,” Johnson replied, clapping him on the shoulder. “Fair enough.”

  “Where is Bill, anyway?” Kersey asked, stretching his arms above his head.

  Mason motioned to the engine car behind him. “He’s been sound asleep on the floor of the cab since we got here.”

  “He’s been asleep on a metal floor this whole time?” Bretz laughed. “Did you at least get him a pillow?”

  “Nope,” Mason replied with a shrug. “He just rolled up a jacket and was out like a baby on NyQuil.”

  Bretz shook his head. “Son of a bitch, guess he wasn’t lying when he said he could sleep on the train.”

  “Lesson learned,” Baker declared. “I’d be quite content not making another stop like this one.”

  “Hey, Mason, why don’t you head on back?” Kersey said. “Kowalski and I will take the first watch with Bill.”

  The Private in question gawked at his superior. “What the fuck, Sarge? I got the last kill, that means I get the first nap!”

  “Technically Linda got the last kill, since it was her idea,” Johnson cut in. “Plus, she gave you the order. It’s like giving credit to the hammer instead of the carpenter.”

  Kowalski shook his head and climbed up into the cab. “Maybe Bill will loan me that jacket,” he muttered.

  The trio of remaining Privates headed off to the makeshift sleeping car, leaving just the Corporal and his Sergeant.

  “That was a close one,” Bretz said, tone serious. “Hit us pretty good on the ammo as well.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Kersey replied, exhaustion finally seeping into his muscles. He leaned against the side of the train, scrubbing a hand down his face. “How bad is it?”

  “Linda was able to spare us a few boxes of rifle ammo, so Kowalski is sitting pretty,” the Corporal said. “Rest of us are really low. Like maybe eight full mags between us on the assault rifles, and about six shots each on the handguns.”

  “Well, we can’t wait on a resupply,” the Sergeant explained. “So we’re just gonna have to hope we can find a gun shop along the route.” He scratched the back of his head.

  Bretz yawned. “And hope we don’t run into much resistance.”

  Kersey waved his hands back and forth in front of his companion’s face.

  “What… what are you doing?” Bretz asked, brow furrowing.

  “Wondering how you are keeping up a conversation while being asleep on your feet,” the Sergeant said, “because what you just said is a pure dream.” They shared a chuckle and he patted his friend on the shoulder. “You go get some sleep. I’m gonna call the town in to the General.”

  Bretz raised his hand. “Be sure to tell him about my field promotion.”

  “Sure thing.” Kersey laughed. He watched the Corporal amble off to the sleeping car, and then hauled himself up the ladder into the cab.

  Bill sat at the console, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he checked the gauges. Kowalski’s form shuffled around in the corner, attempting to get comfortable with the jacket pillow.

  “How are we looking, Bill?” Kersey asked.

  The engineer made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “Looking all right, Sergeant. Everybody tucked into their beds?”

  “They’re about as comfortable as they’re gonna get,” Kersey said.

  Bill nodded and cracked his knuckles. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, then.”

  “Hey Bill,” Kowalski grunted from the back, rolling over to face them. “Anyplace else we need to start worrying about? Please tell me that this place was the worst we’re gonna see before Seattle.”

  “Well,” the engineer drew out the word, rubbing his chin, “we still have to go through Helena, Montana, but the real ass-clenching run is going to be through Missoula.”

  Kowalski’s brow furrowed.

  “You know he has nightmares, right?” Kersey said.

  “Well, he’d better, because it’s gonna be a bitch and a half getting through it,” Bill replied. “There’s a huge train yard and it’s the biggest city between here and Washington.”

  The Sergeant sobered. “Any chance we can go around it?”

  “Nope.” The engineer shook his head, popping the p as he said it. “It’s the only viable path through the Coeur d’Alene National Forest. Unless you want to take a huge detour down to Idaho. In which case, we’d have to go through Boise which would be a hell of a lot worse.”

  Kersey sighed. “Well, we don’t have to do that today, do we?”

  “Nah, we’re a few days out,” Bill assured him.

  The Sergeant stretched his arms above his head. “Good,” he said. “At least I can get one more mediocre night’s sleep before I die.” He patted Bill on the back, and the engineer gave him a salute and hit the throttle.

  END

  DEAD AMERICA: THE SECOND WEEK

  BOOK 3

  EL PASO - PT. 2

  BY DEREK SLATON

  © 2019

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +10

  Ten miles east of El Paso laid the sleepy town of Butterfield, Texas. Once upon a time, Leon Jones would have been one of almost a hundred people living on one of the sparse and spread out plots of land. Many joked that Butterfield had been a ghost town before the apocalypse. Who knew they’d be right one day?

  Leon knelt down beside his camping stove, his tall fit frame casting a shadow over it. Though in his fifties with greying hair, he was still fit, and with the bloody military fatigues he wore, he didn’t look at all helpless.

  On this morning, however, just after dawn, he wasn’t worried about looking helpless or not. All he cared about was the precious commodity in his frying pan—a lone egg. He was determined to fry it perfectly—not too little, not too much—because he didn’t know when he’d be able to have another. If he’d ever be able to have another.

  Food grew scarcer and scarcer these days. The Rivas Cartel had spent the better part of the week raiding every home and business close to El Paso, taking anything of value. And the most valuable thing in the apocalypse was food.

  Leon inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the fresh egg he’d been lucky enough to find nestled in the old busted henhouse. “It’s a shame I couldn’t find any coffee to go along with this,” he said under his breath.

  He poked the egg gently to make sure it was as firm as he liked it, and nodded to himself in satisfaction. He turned the heat off and tipped the frying pan over a paper plate he’d liberated from the trailer behind him. As he stepped back up into the double-wide, he took one last sniff of the fresh morsel before settling on the grimy couch in the living room.

  The place was musty as all hell, the kind of smell that made Leon think of an old folks’ home. There was a thin layer of dust over everything, and he was willing to bet it was there from before the zombies considering the dry field in the surrounding area. He shoved a putrid-smelling beer can away from him, and sighed to himself.

  “I feel you, brother,” he muttered to the ether, half to himself
and half to the ghost of the previous owner. “If I were livin’ here in triple digit temps half the year, I would have given up on life too.” He leaned forward and bit into the egg, gobbling half of it and chewing slowly, savoring the creamy yolk on his tongue.

  The pleasure was short-lived, however, at the sound of a rumbling engine.

  Leon immediately sank to his knees, crawling over to the kitchenette window. He gently pulled back the sheet that was a makeshift curtain and peered out at a white truck skidding to a stop at the small shack-like house across the field.

  A trio of men jumped out of the vehicle, all carrying AK-47s with a swagger that was unmistakable.

  “Motherfucking cartel,” Leon muttered. He popped the other half of the egg in his mouth, and crawled back over to the couch to grab his scoped bolt-action sniper rifle. He double-checked the fresh clip was primed and ready to go, and gave the gun a loving pet. “Well girl, looks like we have another day of action on our hands. Starting early, too.”

  He headed back to the window, peeking out just as the cartel members kicked the door in to the tiny dilapidated house. A zombie staggered out, short compared to the cartel members, and they hooted at it, forming a loose triangle. They teased it, enraging it from behind every time it got too close to somebody. The confused corpse wandered back and forth, screaming and moaning in frustration.

  Leon tore a bit of the sheet clear from the window, so he could aim his rifle through it but stay mostly hidden. He peered through the scope just in time for one of the men to get bored of the game and shoot the zombie in the back of the head, splattering rotted brain matter over one of his companions.

  “We used to joke about how interrupting breakfast should be punishable by death.” Leon chuckled to himself, low in his throat. “Took a while, but finally get to make it real.”

  The cartel member covered in zombie goo stepped up to the shooter, shoving him in anger at being splattered with guts for no reason. The third man simply laughed and watched as his friends argued, bumping chests in a classic display of testosterone.