CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How are we looking?” Kersey asked as he joined Baker at the front door.
The Private peered through the curtain. “Still about half a dozen, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“How long to hot wire it?” the Sergeant asked.
Baker shrugged. “Two, three minutes max.”
“Okay,” Kersey said with a nod, “you make a beeline to the vehicle. I’m on zombie duty.” He pulled out his machete, gripping it tightly. “Gonna be as quiet as I can be.”
They took up positions on either side of the door, and shared a look before the Sergeant threw the door open.
Baker sprinted across the street, drawing the attention of the six shambling zombies, and they turned to follow him, moaning with excitement. Kersey leapt quietly down the steps, coming up behind them, executing a surprise attack. He brought the weapon down hard on the back of the first one’s head, caving in the skull. He immediately spun and thrust, catching the next one in the side of the face with the blade, and as they both crumpled to the ground, Baker reached the Humvee.
Kersey slashed at a third zombie, but the echoes of more moaning rode to him on the breeze, and he turned to see a good portion of their old pursuers heading back towards them up the street.
“So much for stealth,” he muttered, and pulled out his handgun. He rapidly dropped the last three zombies still heading for Baker, who popped his head out of the vehicle in surprise. “I got it under control!” the Sergeant yelled. “Keep working!”
Baker ducked back into the vehicle as Kersey brandished his assault rifle, firing into the oncoming fleet. He dropped as many as he could in the front, sending them stumbling over their fallen brethren as he reloaded.
“How we looking?” he yelled.
Baker stuck his hand out the door, keeping his head under the dash. “Thirty seconds!” he shouted back.
Kersey ran up next to the passenger door, firing again to try to trip up more of the staggering dead. The gap rapidly closed, and when the horde was about twenty yards away, the vehicle roared to life.
“Got it, let’s go!” Baker cried and jumped up into the driver’s seat.
Kersey dove inside, and the Private reversed and then floored it, sending corpses flying in every direction as he barreled up the street.
“Man, I miss this kind of power behind the wheel,” Baker groaned as the vehicle mowed through the zombies like they weren’t even there.
Kersey chuckled. “Thank god for overcompensating civilians,” he replied, and raised the radio to his lips. “Mason, tell Bill to hit it.”
“Copy that,” Mason replied.
Kersey switched back to channel eight. “Kowalski, we’re on the way. Be there in sixty seconds. You ready?”
Click. “No.”
“That’s the spirit,” the Sergeant replied brightly. “We’ll cover you.”
“Damn well better,” the Private muttered back.
Baker drive around the corner and onto the main road leading to the hotel. There were easily a thousand zombies stretched along the street, swarming the parking lot and the building proper.
“He wasn’t kidding about his kill record, was he?” Baker asked breathlessly at the sight of unmoving bodies piled up in big stacks amongst the still walking ones.
Kersey shook his head. “I’ve known him for years, and he takes those very seriously. Got super pissed when Johnson took his record in Iraq.” He looked up towards the roof and spotted the Private running across it. “I see him, he’s on the move.”
Baker floored it, skidding around the corner and slamming zombies out of the way as they circled the building. There were a few dozen creatures hanging out around the pool gate, and he skidded to a stop as close to the latch as possible.
Kowalski came flying down from the roof, splashing into the deep end, and Kersey popped up out of the sun roof, opening fire on the zombies clustered near the door. As they fell, Kowalski hauled himself out of the water, limping a little as he made his way to the gate.
“I got you, just head towards us!” Kersey yelled, and continued firing, picking off any corpse that even looked in the direction of the path the Private needed to take.
Kowalski unlatched the gate and hobbled to the Humvee, throwing open the back door to fall inside in a dripping heap. “I’m in! Go go go!”
Kersey slid back into his seat just as Baker hit the gas, the force of them peeling out closing the back door behind their refugee.
“Holy shit, that was epic,” Baker blurted as he hit the main road, glancing at his companion sprawled out across the backseat. “You okay?”
“Fucking banged up my leg on the bottom of the pool,” Kowalski groaned. “Goddamn safety regulations keeping everything shallow. Let a few kids drown, I needed the deep end!”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, that was without a doubt a nine-point-eight on the dive,” Kersey piped up.
“Nine-point-eight?” the Private cried. “What in the hell do I have to do to get a ten?”
“Probably not come up injured?” Baker asked.
Kowalski let out an exasperated laugh, just happy to be alive. “Yeah, I’ll buy that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“How bad’s your ankle?” Kersey asked and he and Kowalski stood next to the train tracks. They’d driven a good mile from the airport, leaving the horde far behind. The train slowly made its way towards them, a veritable army of creatures behind it.
“Eh, just sprained it pretty good,” Kowalski replied. “Nothing a day or two off of it won’t cure.”
The Sergeant nodded. “Lucky for you, we have some downtime in our future. No way in hell we’re tackling Spokane without some major backup.”
“Did the General tell you how many troops he’s sending us?” Kowalski asked.
Kersey scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, he did, but you’ve had a rough enough day already. I don’t want to depress you with specifics.”
“Oh, great, so nowhere near enough to get the job done safely,” the Private moaned.
The Sergeant stretched his arms above his head. “Don’t you just love being bright enough to read between the lines?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s a joy all right,” Kowalski replied.
“So, how high did you get your kill streak?” Kersey asked.
“Day’s not over yet.” The Private smirked. “But at the moment, I topped out at two hundred and eighty-three.”
His superior’s eyes widened. “Damn man, that’s gonna be a tough number to beat going forward.”
“Thanks, Sarge.” Kowalski puffed out his chest with pride. “Feels good to be back on top again.”
Kersey chuckled. “Johnson leaving Iraq with the title eats you up, doesn’t it?”
“Man, I still call bullshit on that.” The Private scowled. “Calling in an airstrike shouldn’t count.”
The Sergeant cocked his head. “Well, if you want to play it that way, then the remote drone pilot should get credit, right?”
“Well, all I care about is the record is now mine,” Kowalski replied, clenching a victorious fist.
Kersey’s walkie-talkie crackled to life.
“Hey, Sarge, you there?” Bretz asked.
Kersey raised the mouthpiece to his lips. “Yep, I’m here, what’s up?”
“Got us a bit of a following here, and Bill doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to stop,” the Corporal replied. “I mean, unless you want to fight off a couple thousand of those things.”
The Sergeant pursed his lips. “Not really at the top of my list of things to do today.”
“I didn’t think so,” Bretz replied. “So how do you boys feel about hopping a moving train?”
Kersey took a deep breath. “How fast are we talking?”
“Not very, just enough to keep pace ahead of the zombies,” Bretz said.
The Sergeant looked over at his limping companion. “Think you can make it?”
“I’ve run through worse,”
Kowalski replied. “But I am going to complain about it.”
Kersey barked a laugh. “I don’t doubt it.” He raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Yeah, Bretz, we’ll be good to go.”
“All right, we’ll be on your position in about a minute,” the Corporal confirmed.
Kersey turned to the Humvee. “Baker, time to go.”
The Private emerged from the vehicle, arming the switch on the C4 he’d rigged up inside. He jogged over to the duo, holding the detonator above his head.
“You read to blow up that behemoth?” Kowalski asked.
Baker grinned. “There’s enough C4 in there to get it into orbit.”
“Think it’s going to actually attract those things?” the sniper wondered.
“Well, since we have quite the following already, I was going to wait until we’re up the line a bit before triggering it,” Baker explained. “Maybe get lucky and get a second wave following us.”
Kersey nodded. “Not a bad idea.”
The train closed in, moving at only a few miles an hour. A sea of zombies lumbered behind with only a few feet of space between.
“All right, here’s our ride,” the Sergeant said. “Kowalski, you’re up first.” He clapped his limping friend on the back.
Kowalski hobbled along the rail, looking back as he moved for the ladder to catch up to him for the engine car. He grabbed it and hauled himself up with his arms, Kersey and Baker jogging behind him. He slipped into the engine car, and Baker leapt up next, quickly sliding out of the way so Kersey could jump up with relative ease.
“All aboard and ready to get rolling,” the Sergeant declared as he entered the cramped engine cab.
“Well, get comfy,” the engineer bellowed from the console. “We have a long ride ahead of us. I’m gonna keep it about this speed for an hour or so to make sure we’re deep in the woods with these guys behind us.”
Baker set his watch for twenty minutes. “Okay, my timer is set to detonate the Humvee, which will hopefully give us a second group.”
“Did anybody think to bring beer?” Johnson raised his hand.
“I wish,” Kowalski cut in as he lowered himself to a sitting position on the floor. “It would be nice to have my daily kill record celebrated properly.”
“What are you talking about?” Johnson’s eyes narrowed. “You know I have the squad record.”
Kowalski grinned up at his comrade. “Not anymore. Got two-eighty-three today.”
Johnson paled, and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
The sniper crossed his arms. “Did you let me hear the end of it after your little airstrike?”
“Well… no,” his companion stammered. “But that was totally different!”
“How?!”
“Well, I mean… it was my record!” Johnson said, looking ever the petulant child. “So it was different!”
The group burst into laughter, even the two arguing soldiers. Partly because of the argument, but also just in relief at surviving the day.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kowalski muttered a few choice obscenities under his breath, and ducked back inside the engine car. “Sarge, we’ve got a problem.”
“Let me guess, they aren’t breaking away?” Kersey sighed.
“I watched them for give solid minutes and maybe a half-dozen broke off from the pack,” the sniper explained. “Even if we leave them in the dust, there’s a good chance they’re just going to follow us down the tracks.”
“We have enough ammo to take them out though,” Mason piped up. “Why don’t we just set up a firing line and start taking them down?”
Bretz shook his head. “Because we don’t know what’s ahead of us. We can’t burn that much ammo.”
“Maybe get a couple decoys?” Kersey asked. “Fan out into the woods and draw them in?”
Johnson crossed his arms. “Sarge, that’s all kinds of risky. Doesn’t look like there are any sorts of paths in the woods out there. Gonna be way too easy to get tripped up.”
“I still have a couple blocks of C4,” Baker cut in. “We can get ahead of them a bit, I can run out and plant some, and get back to the train before they get close.”
Kersey cocked his head. “How much do you have left?”
“Three blocks,” Baker replied, as Bill increased the accelerator behind him.
The Sergeant nodded. “That’s not a bad idea, but I just hate the idea of using it-” he paused when he realized they were moving faster. “Bill… why did you accelerate? We’re not doing Baker’s plan.”
Bill clucked his tongue. “You want to clear out those zombies, right?”
“That’s what we’re discussing,” Kersey said.
The engineer waved him off. “Then hang tight and I’ll take care of it.”
The train picked up speed, putting several hundred yards between the box car and the ambling horde. Bill rode the momentum all the way up a half-mile incline before screeching to a halt at the top. He triggered the emergency brakes and pulled a crowbar from under the console, whistling as he headed to the door.
“Pardon me, boys,” he said, and Mason and Baker glanced at Kersey.
The Sergeant nodded his approval and the soldiers opened the door, getting out and sweeping the immediate area as Bill jumped down. The rest of the group followed, curiously watching as the engineer stretched his arms above his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment before strolling down the train towards the box car.
The soldiers followed, and at the second to last car, he hopped up onto the back and began to fiddle with the coupler. He paused, and stuck his head out to survey the group.
“Hey Sergeant,” he said, “you boys don’t need anything in the box car, do you?”
Kersey glanced around at his men. “Everything we need is in the front couple of cars, right?”
There were nods all around and he turned back to Bill. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Fantastic,” the engineer replied brightly, and then disappeared back between the cars. He pulled the pin on the coupler and stood up, giving the hitch a few good stomps with his foot.
Gravity began to take hold, and the free-roaming box car began to roll slowly away from the train, taken by the hill. It picked up speed, and sliced right into the decomposing flesh of the oncoming horde like butter.
Zombies parted like the red sea, leaving crimson tracks behind, thousands of mutilated zombies flying everywhere. The car whizzed out of sight on the horizon, and a mere hundred corpses remained, many missing limbs.
Johnson turned to Bill and began a slow clap, his mouth agape in awe. The engineer still stood atop the coupler, and gave a playful bow as the rest of the soldiers joined in the applause.
“Well,” Johnson said as he clapped Kowalski on the back, “looks like your daily record lasted all of an hour.”
The Private’s eyes widened. “Son of a bitch!”
“What do you think there, Sarge?” Johnson teased. “Call that an even thousand?”
Kersey chuckled. “Unless you want to go count the body parts.”
“Yeah, I think a thousand sounds good,” the Private replied.
Kowalski began stomp-hobbling back towards the engine car, muttering under his breath. “You just wait until I get more ammo…”
“Does this mean I’m officially part of the squad?” Bill asked as he jumped down to the ground.
Johnson grinned. “Brother, you just killed a thousand zombies with a box car. You’re one of us without a doubt.”
“Glad to be part of the team,” the engineer declared, holding up his crowbar with triumph.
Mason shook his head as they wandered after Kowalski. “I can’t believe one train car did that much damage.”
“It’s thirty-two tons of rolling steel,” Bill explained. “It probably hit them going forty, forty-five miles an hour. Nothing organic is going to react real well to that kind of impact.”
Baker raised an eyeb
row. “Do we need to go get it?”
“Nah, it’ll be fine,” the engineer said, waving flippantly behind him. “It’ll just keep going until it runs out of steam. Sergeant, you’ll just have to let the next team coming up know about it. They can latch it the front of their engine and bring it back.”
Kersey nodded. “I can handle that. Plus, the General will get a kick out of that story. I have to admit, that was pretty fucking awesome.”
“So, what do you say?” Bill cracked his knuckles. “Should we keep on trucking and find us a nice place to stay for the night?”
The soldiers let out collective noises of appreciation, and clambered back up into the engine car. Kersey looked back at the remaining survivors on the blood-soaked tracks, aimlessly staggering to their feet in disoriented arcs, mostly dispersing into the woods.
He let out a deep breath, finally feeling like they’d completed their mission.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The train coasted along at a comfortable five miles an hour, within view of the Lake Pend Oreille at the northern tip of Idaho. The soldiers took in the sight of the setting sun glinting over the water, sparkling away and almost feeling like the town of Hope was a fitting name.
“This is one hell of a sight,” Johnson breathed. “I can see why people decided to settle here.”
“Let’s be honest,” Kowalski said, “the only reason anybody settled these parts is because their wagons broke down and they didn’t have the ability to keep moving. Let’s come back here in another month or so and see if you like it with ten feet of snow on the ground.”
Johnson grinned. “I don’t know, I could go for some sledding.”
“Hey Sarge,” Bill piped up, “looks like there are some buildings up ahead. Want me to stop?”
Kersey turned to the engineer. “How close are we to Spokane?”
“Best guess is about ninety miles, but it’s not going to be too much longer before we start hitting real patches of civilization,” Bill replied.
The Sergeant nodded. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he replied, and raised his hands. “See if you can’t find us someplace nice.”
Dead America: The Second Week Box Set [Books 1-6] Page 34
