“And who might you be?” Hammond asked casually, as if they were discussing the weather.
The six-foot latino man in front wore a freshly-pressed sheriff uniform, and though he wasn’t holding a weapon his two deputies flanking him gripped assault rifles.
“I could ask the same of you, soldier,” he replied. “We weren’t aware of any military activity in the area.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” the Sergeant said, leaning back on an arm, “but we don’t exactly report to small town cops.”
“Small town sheriff, actually,” the man puffed his chest out and patted the badge on his shirt. “You may call me Diego, however.”
“All right there Diego,” Hammond replied, pretending to check his manicure, “you can call me Sergeant Hammond, or Hammond. Frankly I don’t give a shit, because this isn’t going to be a long conversation.”
Diego sneered. “On this point, I agree with you, Sergeant Hammond. In fact, we can make this incredibly quick if you and your friends agree to turn yourselves in to face justice for the murder of nine of the citizens under my protection.”
“Afraid I can’t do that, there Diego,” Hammond replied with a faux-regretful shrug. “See, for starters, it was self defense since they drew first. And secondly, given you boys have already shot at us, I sincerely doubt we’d get a fair trial. Plus, the closest thing we have to lawyer is old Landry here, and that’s just because he’s seen every episode of Law and Order.”
Landry smirked. “And SVU. Love Benson and Stabler.”
“What, no love for Ice-T?” the Sergeant asked over his shoulder, amused.
The Private shrugged. “Given that he’s universally loved, it didn’t need mentioning.”
“Well, and SVU as well,” Hammond repeated as he turned back to the front, swinging his legs like a kid on a playground. “Still though, I don’t think he’d do too well in a trial setting. So we’re going to have to humbly decline your offer.”
Diego scowled. “Well, the alternative is that we just skip the trial and go straight to the executions.”
“That’s cute that you think the three of you are going to do a goddamn thing against us,” Hammond replied. “We’ve already taken out nine of your men today, why not cut your losses before we make it eleven?”
The sheriff laughed, putting a hand to his stomach. “Sergeant, sergeant, sergeant,” he gasped, “thank you for that. These have been some dark days as of late, and I needed that laugh. Perhaps you aren’t seeing this situation for what it is. My men are ready to open fire on you and your troops, and you’re just sitting there like a deer that’s unaware of the hunter. Either you have accepted your fate, or you are grossly underestimating my men, which I assure you is a mistake you won’t live with very long.”
“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, ain’t ya?” Hammond grinned.
“Only when I know I have the upper hand.” Diego straightened, and his men tightened their grips on their rifles, but didn’t raise them. “So if there’s nothing else, I do really need to get along with my day.”
The Sergeant raised his hand, holding a single finger in the air. “I do have one question before you do whatever it is you need to do,” he said.
“Okay.” Diego rolled his eyes. “Since entertainment these days is severely lacking, I’ll let you ask your question.”
Hammond smiled. “Left or right?”
The sheriff’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry Sergeant, I don’t understand.”
“Simple,” Hammond replied. “Left or right?”
The three men shared a confused glance, until Diego finally shrugged and said, “Left.”
As soon as he spoke, the deputy to the left lost his head in a spray of blood and bone. Brain matter vaporized and splattered the sheriff’s face, and all he could do was stare in shock at his dead comrade.
The other deputy cried out and raised his weapon, but his head disappeared in another expert sniper shot, covering Diego from the other side. He frantically looked from side to side, at the two bloodied bodies crumpled to the road next to him.
Hammond casually hopped down from his perch and walked up to him. “Now Sheriff, have I made my point or do I need to call out center?”
Diego opened his mouth and then closed it again, raising his eyes to the Sergeant, suddenly ablaze with anger.
“Oh, I can see that look on your face,” Hammond said, tsking. “I can see the anger coursing through your veins. I’d be willing to wager you want nothing more than to rip me a new one right about now, wouldn’t you?” He waited a beat, but there was no response. “Now, this is what’s gonna happen, big fella. You’re gonna hop in your car and go back to town. You’re gonna go talk to your master and tell him this town is off limits. And finally, you’re going to tell him that if we see anybody come up that road that their head will be removed from their shoulders before they get close enough to see the town entrance.”
Diego shook visibly with anger. “You’re going to regret this, Sergeant,” he seethed, and turned and stalked back to his SUV. As he sped off into the distance, Hammond strolled back to the barricade.
“Do you think he’s going to come back?” Sofia asked, wringing her hands.
Hammond nodded. “Oh yeah, a thousand percent. That dude is pissed the fuck off. There’s no doubt he’s gonna come back to kill everyone here.”
“What the hell, man?!” Simon screeched. “How can you be so uncaring about our safety?!”
“Simon, you need to calm down,” Hammond said gently, holding out a hand.
Landry scratched the back of his head. “So, what’s the play, Sarge?”
“I’m hoping that two firefights in one day is more than they can stomach, which means we’re on the clock,” Hammond replied.
Whitaker raised an eyebrow. “You want to hit them today?”
“Hell yeah I do,” the Sergeant replied. “They’ve had two defeats today, so with any luck they’ll take some time to regroup. While they’re doing that, we’re going to go in and obliterate them.”
Whitaker nodded, and then turned as Mathis jogged up from where he’d been hiding. “That was some fine shooting,” she said.
“Thanks,” he replied with a grin.
“Mathis, how do you feel about doing some scouting?” Hammond asked.
He nodded. “Just tell me when and where.”
“We need to know where the civilians are in town, and if possible, where Dutch is,” Hammond said.
Mathis slung his gun over his shoulder. “I’m on it, Sarge.”
Sofia grabbed his arm. “Hold on, I can help.”
“No offense, but I’m going to be moving a lot faster than you’re going to be able to,” the sniper replied as gently as he could.
She put a hand on her hip. “Just for that, when this is over, we’re racing,” she said. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I know the city well, and think I know where they might be keeping the civilians and where Dutch might be. I’ll draw you a map so you know where to start looking.”
Mathis smiled. “Thank you,” he said honestly. “Oh, and that race is so on. I’m not backing down from a competition.”
She gave him a little salute and headed off to a nearby house to grab a pen and paper.
“How far is it to down?” Hammond turned to Simon.
He shook his head, crossing his arms nervously. “Four, maybe five miles to the outskirts.”
“Time?” Hammond asked the sniper.
Mathis cocked his head. “If I travel light, thirty to forty minutes depending on the distance.”
“As soon as you get that map from Sofia, you go,” the Sergeant directed. “Stay on com, keep us up to date with what you see. Once we know where we’re hitting we’ll coordinate a rendezvous point.”
She emerged with a crudely drawn map, and held it out to Mathis. “The families are most likely on the east side of town.”
“What makes you think that?” he asked as he studied the squares and rectangle
s dotting the paper.
“The high school is there,” she explained, pointing to one of the rectangles. “So they’d have a fallback position if a lot of those things showed up.”
Landry nodded. “Solid thinking.”
“These are the two biggest areas of town that had businesses,” she continued, pointing to the two squares next to it. “With this one having city hall. I’d start with that one, since Dutch loves appearances.” She pointed next to a line leading to the east side of town. “About half a mile down the road here, you’ll see a dirt road on the left. It’s a four-wheeler trail that will take you straight to the east side of town. The terrain is going to be a little rougher, but it’s unlikely that you’ll run into much resistance.”
Mathis nodded. “Thanks, Sofia.” He waved to his crew. “Sarge, I’m out.”
“Expect to hear from you in thirty minutes, soldier,” Hammond said, and then watched his Private take off an at accelerated jog.
Landry stretched his arms over his head. “What do we do in the meantime, Sarge?”
“We start planning the town’s defense,” Hammond replied, “just in case those bastards decide they want round three today.”
CHAPTER SIX
Mathis crouched down as he crested the incline in the trail, the city sprawling out below him. He pulled the sniper rifle from his back, and braced himself on one knee to use the scope to scout the area.
First, he focused on the school. There were a few dozen people walking about on the baseball field, as well as several armed guards.
He hit the communicator on his vest. “Sarge, come in,” he said.
“Thirty-two minutes, Mathis,” Hammond replied immediately. “You’re getting slow in your old age.”
“Apologies Sarge,” the Private replied. “Terrain was a bit rougher than I thought.”
Hammond made a dismissive noise. “It’s all good. What do you see?”
“Sofia was dead on about the east side civilian resort,” Mathis explained. “Looks like they moved everyone into the school and put it on lockdown. There are easily eight guards there, and that’s from just what I can see from this vantage point.”
“Looks like that assault route is off the menu,” Hammond mused. “Any luck on locating Dutch?”
“Negative, Sarge,” Mathis replied, shaking his head. “That’s my next target.”
“Get moving, we’re on the clock,” the Sergeant instructed.
The Private nodded. “On it.” He smacked the communicator and then threw his rifle back over his shoulder before darting across the dirt path and into the wooded area overlooking the city.
Moving swiftly through the brush, he spotted movement up ahead, and flattened himself behind a thick tree trunk. He peeked out and surveyed two zombies staggering about through the trees, bonking into branches and stumbling over roots.
Mathis drew his knife, and walked in a crouch as silently as he could through the underbrush, skirting around behind one of the creatures. He slammed the blade into its skull, and then caught the limp corpse, lowering it gently to the ground.
The other zombie turned and spotted him, moaning and holding out one of its hands. Mathis lunged forward and jammed his knife into its eye, and broke its fall as well. Just as he lowered the corpse to the forest floor, he heard voices in the distance.
He clenched his jaw, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He frantically glanced around, and saw an outcropping of rock peeking out through some of the bushes. He quickly grabbed the second zombie and dragged it over to the rock, setting it with its bloody eye facing down, goopy blood running down the stone.
“I swear I heard something up here,” a voice said.
“You’re dragging me all the way up here, so you damn well better have!” somebody else replied.
Mathis grabbed the first zombie and hefted it over his shoulder, jogging as silently as he could towards a thicker bush. He quietly set the corpse down, crouching over it and peering through the thick branches to watch the show.
“Well damn,” the first man said as he approached the rock, “would you look at that? This sucker brained himself. You ever seen anything like that?”
“No, and frankly I don’t care,” the second man replied, sounding utterly disinterested in the scene. “Can we get back to our spot now? Dutch is freaking out about that attack this morning, and if Diego sees were not there…”
“Then we tell him we were investigating a noise,” the first man shot back. “Which is true.”
His companion scoffed. “Yeah, maybe he’ll be impressed about your clumsy zombie.”
“Yeah, whatever man, come on.” They headed back the way they’d come, and Mathis waited for a few tense minutes before breathing a sigh of relief.
Not wanting to take any chances, he doubled back half a mile before continuing to move, parallel to the city. He stopped in another copse of bushes to point his rifle at city hall, using maximum magnification to spy through the scope.
There were at least a dozen guards outside. Three blocks to the west, there was a large structure that was boarded up with two guards standing outside of it.
He hit is communicator. “Sarge, the Eagle’s Nest has been spotted. Repeat, the Eagle’s Nest has been spotted.”
“Good job Mathis,” Hammond came back. “You have eyes on Dutch?”
“Negative,” he replied. “But there are a dozen armed men surrounding the nicest looking building in town. If it’s not him, it’s something equally as important.”
The Sergeant made a noise of approval. “Agreed. How is the north looking for an assault point?”
“That’s my next stop,” Mathis explained. “But I did find something else of note.”
“What is it?” Hammond asked.
The Private lowered his rifle and slung it back over his shoulder. “A boarded up building three blocks to the west of the Eagle’s Nest.”
“What makes you think it’s noteworthy?” the Sergeant asked. “Could be just an abandoned business.”
Mathis shook his head. “Most abandoned businesses don’t have armed guards outside of it.”
“What are you thinking?” Hammond asked.
The Private took a deep breath. “With as secure as those windows and doors are, my guess is there’s something inside they don’t want getting out.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve left zombies in a building,” Hammond mused.
“Might be their last if we can get it open,” Mathis added.
The Sergeant replied, “Good find. Let me know what you find in the north.”
“Ten-four,” the Private agreed, and clicked off his communicator. He got up from his spot and headed west, hoping to find a vantage point to see the road leading into town. It was a short jaunt before he found a hill that would provide the perfect survey, and he crawled to the pinnacle to avoid detection.
As he looked through his scope, his heart began to race at the sight of four SUVs loading up with armed men, four in each. The first two vehicles contained men decked out from head to toe in full SWAT assault gear, led by Diego. The second two contained men with rifles, just as armed to the teeth.
Across the road was a makeshift barricade, with half a dozen armed men on it. They waved forward the SUVs, and as the wheels began to turn, Mathis suddenly snapped out of his shock.
He slapped his communicator. “Sarge! They’re coming for you!”
“What? Who is coming for us?” Hammond replied.
“Diego,” Mathis huffed, “and he’s bringing the SWAT team. Four vehicles, four men each. Front two with SWAT. They’re just leaving, so you have maybe five minutes!”
Hammond grunted. “Get back here now!” And the communicator went dead.
Mathis slid back down the hill as quickly as he could, and when he was out of sight he leapt to his feet and ran full tilt back towards his team.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pinos Alto was a flurry of panicked activity. Sofia rushed around, urging civilia
ns into the church in the center of town.
“Come on, everybody move! They’re going to be here any minute!” she cried, herding them down into the courtyard, past the houses on either side of the street.
Andy and Marshall stopped outside the church as families filtered by them, heading inside.
“What can we do?” Andy asked.
Sofia lifted her chin. “You can get inside the church with everybody else.”
“But we can help!” Marshall declared.
She pointed to the church. “This is no time to argue, just get inside.”
“No! We can help!” Andy cried, clenching his fists.
Hammond stepped away from his team and approached the arguing trio. “Boys, you really want to help?”
“Yes, sir,” they both said firmly, standing up straight.
“I need you to get in that church and get to the back,” the Sergeant said, and then held up a hand as their faces fell. “There’s a door in the back that needs protecting. These guys are coming to hurt people, and you can help stop that. You have the most important job here, which is to keep people safe. If anybody comes in that door, you beat them down. Can you do that for me?”
The boys looked at each other and then at Hammond with renewed vigor.
“We won’t let you down,” Andy said, and grabbed Marshall’s arm, the two of them running inside.
Simon came running up to the Sergeant as he rejoined his team, holding a plastic jug. “I got as much gas as I could from your SUV. It wasn’t a lot, though.”
Hammond took the container and shook it, noting that it was half full. “It’s more than enough, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the wiry man replied, apparently all out of venom for the soldiers now that they were about to single-handedly protect the town.
“Simon, Sofia, you need to get in the church and take cover,” Hammond said firmly.
The woman in question narrowed her eyes, raising an arm to object, but Simon snatched it and dragged her inside, hissing at her not to fight them.
“Whitaker,” Hammond said, “I want you in there too.”
Dead America The Second Week (Book 9): Dead America: New Mexico Page 3
