First Wave Series Box Set (Books 1-3)

by JT Sawyer

  Travis scanned the barricades and saw thousands of undead staggering around the streets, with numerous creatures stuck in the razor wire. He then panned to the south, glancing over the university buildings. Most of the multi-story structures were burnt-out shells, but two still had their windows intact and contained an outer layer of razor wire. Hmm, maybe that’s the actual command center.

  He panned the binoculars back down and homed in on the men. “I’ve got seven guys over by the service road standing by their choppers and a large truck,” he whispered to Pete. “They’re parked right next to a storm tunnel on their left. Is that the entrance you were telling me about earlier?”

  “Yep—that’s the main tunnel that leads under the university and should take us close to downtown. Assuming the entrance hasn’t been welded shut,” Pete said.

  “I doubt it has—otherwise those bruisers wouldn’t be camped out here, standing guard.”

  While Travis was studying the men and entrance below, he saw a portly fellow with a thick coat pick up a handheld radio and speak into it. Then the man yelled at the others to get into the truck, motioning to two of them to remain behind. The truck backed up and turned around, then sped off on the gravel road.

  “Two on two—I like these odds a lot better,” he said, smiling. As Travis scanned the surrounding forest trails below, he paused, taking in a deep breath. “You smell that acrid odor?”

  Pete turned and surveyed the forest behind them. “Dammit—there are a shitload of RAMs in search of breakfast!”

  Travis swung around and could see about twenty creatures staggering towards them, fifty yards away. The windy conditions at their backs had prevented them from hearing their approach, but with the wind shifting suddenly it had also wafted the ammonia-like odor towards them. He looked at the escape routes along the rim in either direction. “Let’s head down the slope over to our right and into the canyon—we can gain some distance and maybe lose ’em there.”

  They sprinted to the rim and then snaked down past the low rocks and through clumps of elderberry shrubs. It was only thirty feet to a small canyon, down an old elk trail through a thick stand of fallen trees. After a half mile, they stopped alongside a fallen oak tree to catch their breath. The canyon was narrow and filled with toppled boulders from above. Travis turned his head, searching along the path they’d come. “Looks like we lost them, but that stench is still in the air.”

  He turned to get up and saw six zombies coming from around the bend on the heavily forested trail, twenty feet away. Pete removed the Glock from his holster and looked at Travis, who shook his head. “Ricochets are too risky with all these rocks—we’ll have to use our machetes.”

  Both men yanked the eighteen-inch blades from their sheaths and rushed forward. Travis took an angry swing at the first zombie, cleaving it across the neck and dropping it quickly. He was amazed at how little force was required. The next creature, however, was a hulking figure with hands like baseball mitts. The beast was so tall that Travis only managed to slam his machete into its shoulder as the creature grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him forward. He momentarily lost his balance and then took a vicious swing at the zombie’s back leg, removing it below the knee. The massive creature fell sideways onto a rock slab.

  Before he could finish the job, another zombie tackled him, its festering lips flapping greedily at his face. Travis fell back, landing hard on the ground between two logs. As the creature pawed at his feet, he raised the machete with both hands and struck down on the middle of the cranium, splitting the blue-mottled head down the center, a spray of blood gushing out onto the forest floor. As he stood, he saw a creature moving in behind Pete, who had just finished dispatching his second zombie. Travis bent down, grabbed a grapefruit-sized rock and hurled it at the creature’s back, striking it between the shoulder blades. This caused it to turn sharply and move for Travis, who waited for the last second to sidestep and swipe the zombie across the neck. He delivered a downward strike across the head, dropping the desiccated creature onto the trail. Then he went back and lopped the head off the immense zombie on the basalt slab.

  Pete was panting and his hands shaking as he walked up to Travis, who was wiping his dripping machete across the brown overalls of the slain zombie. They both gave weary glances to each other and then Travis scanned the trail for any further movement.

  “I think RAM encounters like this are going to be the norm as long as we hang out this close to the city center,” he whispered. “Let’s obtain the intel we need and then retreat to a safer distance.”

  “And miss all this fun fileting zombie heads? Hmm, let me think about it,” smirked Pete, dragging his soiled blade across a log before re-sheathing it.

  While they caught their breath, Travis could hear a familiar drone coming from the sky above to the northeast. He put his machete away and tilted his head, straining to make out the sound. “Blackhawks! Those are Blackhawks coming in—sounds like more than one,” he said.

  A few minutes later, he could see four helicopters skimming along the treetops a mile away to his left before they dropped out of sight in their descent. His eyes darted along the canopy, then back down towards the blood-soaked trail at his feet. “What the hell? They must have some forward staging area here that’s beyond anything Crawford knows about.”

  “Looks like they landed over by the grassy fields in the Fox-Glenn neighborhood,” said Pete.

  “Let’s go have a look, shall we? This could be a game-changer, and I’d like to know what we’re up against,” said Travis.

  They stalked quietly down the trail, keeping their noses upturned for the ammonia scent of the undead. The undergrowth was a mix of brown grass, shrubs, and quartzite rocks. Fifteen minutes later, they emerged from the tangled underbrush at the mouth of the narrow canyon, where it met a liver-shaped meadow. Near the opposite end were four Blackhawk helicopters that had landed in a diamond formation.

  The truck they had seen earlier by the cement tunnel was driving through the forest beyond the meadow and pulled in behind the Blackhawks.

  “We need to get in closer so I can see what’s going on,” said Travis. “Let’s skirt along the treeline to that rock outcropping near the helos.” They stayed low, trotting through the forest on a parallel route to the landing strip before cutting to the right for the outcropping, which jutted out from the forest twenty yards away. As they inserted themselves between the shadows of the boulders, they heard another vehicle moving along the dirt road. It was a jeep, and it pulled in next to the lead Blackhawk. A tall woman with raven hair emerged, followed by a large, dark-skinned man with a leather skullcap and biker vest. The woman motioned for the man to stay put while she walked up to the four pilots who were gathered in a circle. After speaking to the pilots, she turned and waved to the men in the truck, who began unloading long wooden crates off the helos. The men began stacking the crates in the back of the cargo truck, while the woman had the large biker follow her away from the others. The woman took a weapon out of a crate and handed it to the man, who was grinning.

  “That looks like a SAW to me,” said Travis.

  “A what?” replied Pete, who was straining to make out the weapon.

  “Sorry. A squad automatic weapon or SAW—a badass machine gun that will put our AKs to shame. That’s some serious firepower there, and that big dude that’s holding it looks like he’s no stranger to its use from the way he’s inspecting it.”

  The woman and man walked away from the jeep and began making their way over to the edge of the forest, close to the boulders where Pete and Travis were nervously trying to conceal themselves.

  Travis strained to hear their conversation, only making out intermittent sentences… “timeline moved…weapons and SAT imagery will speed things…with those weapons, Enrique, you have all you need…” Travis listened intently to the woman’s voice, which had a southern inflection. It sent a chill of goosebumps over his forearms and neck. Where do I know that voice from? he thought, his
eyes racing along the pine needles for answers.

  A moment later, he heard the sound of crunching twigs coming from the forest behind them. He craned his head and saw four zombies wandering aimlessly towards the rock outcropping. Didn’t we just leave this party? he thought. Travis looked at Pete, whose hand was withdrawing his machete.

  Chapter 3

  The zombies were closing in on the boulders, their rotting faces showing the blue-mottled appearance in the early morning light. Their nauseating odor was filling the air as the creatures closed the distance towards Pete and Travis, who were clinging to the gray rocks.

  The acrid smell of decomposing flesh was overpowering now as both men tightened their grips on the blades and readied themselves. A thin creature with a soiled wool sweater was only ten feet from Pete, its head rocking upward in search of prey. Then a wave of gunfire pierced the air from behind them as a machine gun riddled the zombies, misting blood onto the pine trees. Pete and Travis ducked down further, trying to avoid the ricocheting rounds on the rocks around them as bullets peppered the forest.

  A few seconds later, the air was still and the creatures were littering the forest floor. Travis heard the woman yelling, “Save your fucking ammo for the ranchers, Enrique. There will be time enough later, after we have defeated the enemy, to strafe the undead.” The two then turned away, crunching over the brittle grass, walking back to the Blackhawks. Travis raised his head and looked over at Pete, who had a streak of blood issuing forth from his temple.

  Pete was pressing his hand to a vertical cut near his forehead as Travis slid over to his friend’s side. He removed his shemagh and placed it on the cut as Pete winced, clenching his teeth. “Looks like you got grazed by some rock shrapnel,” whispered Travis. “These facial wounds tend to bleed a lot, but it looks to me like just a wicked gash.”

  “So, you’re saying I’ll have a cool tattoo, eh?” he said, gasping in some air.

  “Keep this pressed to your forehead for a while, until I can figure a way outta here.”

  As he was squatting next to Pete, he glanced back to the meadow and could see a man by the truck closing the tailgate. The raven-haired woman was climbing back into her vehicle and, a few minutes later, both rigs sped away, spewing dust into the morning air. Travis could see the four pilots and their crews standing outside the Blackhawks, going through inspections of the helicopters.

  He turned back to Pete, who was slumped against the rock. “We need to get out of this communication dead-zone so I can relay a message to Crawford. Let’s retrace our steps back to the canyon and make our way up to that spot on the rim, above the tunnel.”

  Pete gave a slow nod, pulling back the cloth rag from his eye and looking at the blood. “You got it, Chief. Mind if we stop for a hot cup of espresso along the way? I know a good diner not far from here.”

  Travis let out a half-smile. “Pete, that’s the one thing I’ve always admired about you—even when the chips are down, you can still find a reason to be a dire optimist.”

  Chapter 4

  “How many magazines do you have?” said Katy, who was standing on the second-story porch of the Grand Hotel in Jerome.

  “Six per person is what Crawford said,” replied LB, who was busy stuffing items into his pack alongside Nora, Rachel, and Becka, who were doing the same. “Crawford is having us all stay together as one group, since we’ve already been working as a unit for months and also had a helluva mentor,” he said. “Our call sign is Desert Dog.”

  Katy looked down over the porch railings at the bustling streets, which were filled with people, moving like squirrels before a winter storm. Crawford had held a meeting the night before, informing the entire town that every able-bodied man, woman, and adolescent would be heading north to join with the fighters near Sedona and Winslow. Two days after that, they would then begin the assault on Flagstaff. She recalled Crawford’s speech, which had contained many well-planned boosts of confidence, but she could sense an underlying uncertainty about the outcome.

  “Why is he having us up front with the lead teams for the assault?” said Nora.

  “Because we have had a lot of small-unit training and because he wants me on standby,” said LB. “In my other life back in New York City, I was a helicopter pilot for Channel 12 News, and the Bell choppers here are nearly identical to the birds I flew.”

  “Where’s Evelyn?” said Becka.

  “She’s down at the infirmary loading up on first-aid supplies for us,” replied Katy. “Each team is responsible for making sure they’re equipped with all the essentials: ammo, mags, trauma kits, and chow.”

  Katy glanced over at Becka. “I still think you should stay here. There’s no need for someone your age to be going to war.”

  “We’ve been through this already, remember?” said Becka, who stopped loading her pack to look up at Katy. “I told you, I’m not stayin’ here to sweep the porch while the rest of you head north. Besides, I’ve been through far worse.”

  “Heck, when I was her age, I had already shot my first cougar,” said Nora.

  Rachel leaned over and saw fit to chime in. “Yep, and I started branding cattle and competed in my first rodeo.”

  Katy frowned at the sisters. “You two super-women are not exactly helping my cause.”

  “I’m comin’ and no one can stop me,” said Becka with a deep exhale as she threw her shoulders back.

  Katy nodded reluctantly and clenched her jaw. She understood little of actual war, but knew that attacking a well-entrenched force in the mountains was something that sent a ripple of shivers down her spine. If only I could talk to Travis. He’d know whether this whole battle makes sense and would have some wise-ass take on whether we should even be here. She gazed at the San Francisco Peaks looming in the distance in Flagstaff. How did my life ever come to this?

  Katy thought back to the note that Crawford had given her from Travis after his departure. The message referred to a wall vent in an upstairs storage room, where he had stowed the metal case with the vaccines. But the secret, and its grave implications, grated upon her nerves and kept her awake at night. She realized how Travis must have felt carrying this burden for so long while taking care of the group’s survival.

  Katy glanced around the table at her friends. They should know about this—someone else should know about the vaccines. What if something happens to me in this battle? Hell, I could trip and fall off this porch and die, and that’s it—the end of all hope! The fate of the world rests between my ears and the contents of a goddamned metallic suitcase that nobody even knows about.

  She fumbled a 9mm round into her pistol magazine, the bullet dropping onto the table. She picked it up and jammed it in with force, only to have it pop back out again. Katy slammed the magazine on the table and clenched both her fists. Her heart was racing and she felt her vision constrict.

  “You alright, Katy?” said LB.

  “I’ll be fine—the whole world will be fine. Everything’s gonna be just swell,” she said through clenched teeth, then turned and stormed off the porch into the hallway, pounding her boots on the steps as she descended.

  Becka sighed and wiped a lock of blonde hair away from her face. “Ever since Travis left for Colorado, she’s been pretty wired.”

  “Yeah that’s half the equation, I’m sure,” said Nora. “Who isn’t wired after hearing that we’re pushing on for Flagstaff in three days? I know I didn’t sleep much last night after Crawford’s speech about the battle we are facing and the fact that we’re probably going to be outnumbered.”

  ***

  Katy’s boots hammered the pavement as she headed down into the town center. She pushed past rows of trucks being loaded with weapons, medical supplies, and gas cans. People were moving quickly and there was a visible tension permeating the air. She stopped by a sandstone ledge at a bend in the road that overlooked the Verde Valley. She could see the river below in the redrock canyon as it snaked its way through the jagged terrain.

  She squa
tted down, resting her arms on her faded jeans, glancing down at her hands, which were a deep brown and heavily calloused. Her face felt taut from living in the elements for months, and the cold wind that passed over her neck hardly registered in her psyche.

  Katy thought of her father, whom she had last seen the day before leaving for Arizona—of the Sunday morning breakfasts at their favorite local diner near his house in north Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and their annual trip to the family cabin in the Poconos Mountains. Her mind drifted over the contours of the river below, and she pondered what the future would hold. She thought of Travis and wondered if she would see him again. What a stubborn, thick-skinned man he was, but what I wouldn’t give to have him beside me now.

  She turned and looked down the street, catching sight of Evelyn emerging from a small building that had been turned into an improvised field hospital. Katy ran down the street towards Evelyn only to plow into Crawford, who was coming out of the ammunition storehouse. “Whoa, Katy,” he said, bracing her shoulders after they collided. “You look like you’re all set for a boxing match, young lady.”

  Two of Crawford’s men were standing alongside him and he motioned for them to continue on.

  “I was looking for Evelyn. I need to talk with her,” she said, staring down.

  “I’ve actually been meaning to speak with you, Katy. Why don’t you walk with me for a few minutes?”

  She let out a deep breath and put her hands on her hips. “It would do my heart good to talk right now, to tell the truth. There’s something you should know about before we all head north.”

  Chapter 5

  The bleeding had subsided enough on Pete’s forehead for Travis to apply a fresh dressing. With a band of white gauze wrapped in place, the two continued back towards the tunnel guarded by the bikers. With the available daylight fading, they had to scurry up the opposite side across from their former observation area. From where they stood, nestled against a massive fallen pine tree, Travis could see the downtown region and the tunnel below.