Terrell headed out of the back room, shaking his head. “Well, we ain’t getting out that way,” he declared as he sat down next to the campfire grill Long had set up. “Fire door is locked from the outside.”
“I’ll make a note to call code enforcement when we get back to base,” the Sergeant replied with a grin.
Terrell chuckled. “You going all Gordon Ramsay on me, Sarge?” he asked as his companion poured some noodles into a pot of boiling water.
“This was a bucket list item of mine,” Long admitted. “First thing I was going to do when I retired was take some cooking classes. I figured I had earned the right to eat well the rest of my days after spending decades living off of MREs and whatever protein enriched slop they’d throw together in the mess hall. Looks like I’m gonna just get it in under the wire.”
The bald man shook his head. “Don’t give me that Sarge, maybe those science guys are wro-”
“It’s alright, Graham,” Long cut in. “I’m coming to peace with it. Hell man, in our line of work it’s a miracle I lasted as long as I did. Although it does irk me a bit that after two decades of dodging bullets, blades, and explosions, it’s going to be a fucking cold that brings me down.”
“Don’t forget that desert death march,” Terrell said with a wry grin.
His companion guffawed. “Still pissed at Kyle for that one.” He shook his head, and raised his voice an octave. “Oh, yeah, there’s only two or three insurgents in there!” he mocked.
“Now, now.” The bald man wagged his finger. “He’s a southern boy, so math isn’t his strong suit.”
“Yeah, but the boy has at least eleven things on his body he can count,” Long shot back. “No excuse to be that far off.”
Terrell laughed. “Man, you drove that car like you were Evel fucking Knievel. I didn’t think an early eighties Mazda could get that high off of the ground.”
“I’m still amazed that some small desert shithole had speed bumps.” Long shook his head.
“You know, I’m pretty sure that’s what saved us,” his companion said. “Those insurgents saw you fly through the air and they were like: nah fuck that, these boys are crazy!”
The banging on the door grew louder, and they both sobered, turning to look at the half dozen zombies still pounding at the door.
“What do you think it’s going to be like, Graham?” Long asked quietly.
Terrell pursed his lips. “What are you talking about?”
“Being one of those things?” his companion elaborated. “You think I’ll know what I’m doing? If I’ll have any control?”
The bald man took a deep breath. “I think you’ll be off to a better place. I can’t imagine that whatever god is up there would be cruel enough to make people live that nightmare.”
Long nodded slowly as he stirred his noodles, and they sat in contemplative silence.
A soft crack permeated the air and Long darted to the front door. “They’re gonna get through!” he cried, just as the glass broke and a zombie pushed through, immediately latching onto his leg.
“Sarge!” Terrell screamed, and fired wildly towards the door, managing to dispatch the one on his companion but only landing a few other headshots. Just as his mag emptied, the rest of the door completely shattered, sending half a dozen more zombies staggering in.
Long tripped several of them, holding four at bay to give his comrade as much extra time as he could.
Terrell ducked back into one of the aisles and grabbed two ten pound dumbbells off of a nearby shelf. He turned and swung at the first approaching zombie, shattering its jaw. As the corpse crumpled to the floor, a second zombie came at him, and he slammed a dumbbell down on top of its head, crunching it flat and killing it instantly.
Anger flared in him as he stalked to the front of the store, the four remaining zombies feasting on Long’s now unmoving body.
“Come and get it, motherfuckers,” Terrell declared, and banged the two dumbbells together.
The pack growled and rushed him, and he near blacked-out, a series of skull crushing blows and violent screams echoing in the thick air. He collapsed as the last one fell, hands covered in blood and brain matter, the stench of death ingrained into his skin. He took a series of deep breaths to attempt to calm himself, and looked helplessly at his fallen friend.
“I’m sorry Sarge,” he whispered, crawling over to him. “I truly hope you are in a better place.” He raised a dumbbell and slammed it down into Long’s face, caving in his skull to prevent reanimation.
He swallowed hard, and then reached for his radio. “Coleman, what’s your status?” he asked.
“We’re stuck at base, Sarge,” the Corporal crackled back. “Half the fucking town is out front trying to get in. You need me to come get y’all?”
“Nah, it’s cool,” Terrell replied. “You help them boys get squared away. I could use a little fresh air.” He reached down and grabbed Long’s spare mag, snapping it into his handgun.
With one last salute at his fallen companion, he stepped outside.
CHAPTER TEN
The sucking sound of the steam wand overpowered the grunts of the zombies as Jason made lattes for the group of soldiers sitting around the cafe.
“So, if I’m reading this correctly, we can reach the convention hotel via an over street walkway here,” Frank said, pointing to a section of the mall map on the table in front of them.
“So all we have to do is fight our way through a couple dozen zombies, then it’s a leisurely fifty yard stroll to our target,” Freeman said, throwing up his hands. “You make it sound so easy, Sarge.”
“Don’t I though?” Frank asked. “Sadly, I’m not sure how we’re getting past them. Can’t shoot through the gate, and if we open it up, we’re going to get overrun pretty quickly.”
“We could always use the C4 on the gate,” Freeman suggested. “That should vaporize a good number of those things.”
The Sergeant pursed his lips. “And possibly us in the process,” he said, and knocked on the faux wood counter. “I’m pretty sure the architect picked these based on their aesthetic rather than it’s explosive rating.”
The Corporal motioned to the back room as Marie exited from there. “What about hiding in the store room?”
“One collapsed beam and we’re trapped.” Frank shook his head. “No good.”
“Find any knives we can use to poke at them through the gate?” Freeman asked the tattooed nurse.
“Wasn’t looking for that, but I think I found a way out,” she said.
Freeman and Frank shrugged at each other and nodded, turning back to the coffee bar.
“Pumpkin spiced latte for Freeman,” Jason declared as he set a perfectly poured cup on the counter.
The Corporal grinned at the heart in the foam. “Thank you, my good sir.”
“Good to know that deep within a Delta Force badass beats the heart of a suburban housewife,” Marie teased.
Freeman put up a hand as he swallowed, a foamy mustache left on his face. “Mock me all you want, but this is some tasty shit.”
“Just don’t spoil Days of our Lives or he’ll gouge your eyes out,” Frank said, curling his hand into claws. “Rarrrrr.”
Marie chuckled as she led them into the back room. She pointed up at a large air duct grate.
“Oh look, you might get to John McClane it after all,” Frank declared.
Freeman choked on his beverage a little. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m climbing through an air duct,” he sputtered.
“Relax pumpkin spice,” Marie retorted. “That’s not going to be necessary. Take a look.”
The Sergeant climbed the shelving to peek through the grate. It was only about five feet deep, and opened up into the neighboring store. “Looks like it’s the air intake for the A/C,” he explained as he climbed back down. “It goes right into whatever is next door to us.”
“How does that help us, exactly?” Freeman asked. “One door over isn’t going to make a whole lot o
f a difference. By the time it takes all of us to climb through, those creatures will follow us.”
Marie shrugged. “Then we just send a runner.”
Freeman pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and then made a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors, Sarge?” he asked.
Frank hesitated, and then met his companion’s gaze. “I think I’m going to pull rank on this one, soldier.”
The Corporal wrinkled his nose. “Goddammit.” He chugged the last of his latte and slammed the mug down as if it had been a beer, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together.
He climbed the shelves and pulled the grate down, slithering through into the other store. He ducked down behind some shelves with various clothes, and crept towards the door.
“In position,” he whispered into his radio.
Next door, Frank nodded and lined everyone up in front of the gate, shoulder to shoulder. “Alright boys, Freeman’s in position, let’s make some noise,” he declared, and the group erupted into screams and yells. It was cathartic in a way, hurling obscenities and curses at the monsters that had been tormenting them all night.
Freeman peeked out from the clothing store, making sure all of the zombies were hyper focused on the cafe buffet. “On the move,” he whispered into his radio, and then slipped out the door.
He quickly moved across the hallway, and drew his handgun, stopping about twenty feet away. His heart pounded in his ears and he took a firing position. “Operation Gump starting in ten,” he said into the radio. “Be ready to move.”
Frank grinned. “Run, Forrest, run,” he replied.
Freeman took a pre-sprint stance and then fired at the horde. After three in quick succession, he took off down the long hallway. He glanced once over his shoulder as the entire horde took off after him, and hoped to hell that nothing would pop up in front of him.
“Now!” Frank cried after the zombies got about twenty feet away, and Webb threw up the gate, he and Reyes diving out first. They all barreled across the hall to the walkway, jerking the door open with their guns raised.
“Clear!” Webb cried, and everyone flew inside.
“We’re across, hurry up and get here, Freeman!” Frank yelled into the radio, holding the door open.
He, Gardner and Owens stood in defensive position inside the door, watching the hallway. Freeman came around the corner, the horde hot on his heels.
“Slide now!” Frank screamed, and the Corporal dropped into a textbook baseball slide, as if stealing second base. The three soldiers opened fire, unloading their entire clips into the oncoming wave. It gave Freeman enough of a gap to pop back up and tear through the door, the three soldiers slamming back against it.
Gardner started zip-tying the doors. “Here’s hoping they don’t know how to open doors, because those ties aren’t gonna do much good,” he said.
“If they get lucky and hit the latch, that should hold them shut,” Frank said. “When we find something stronger, we’ll come back and reinforce.”
“You alright there, pumpkin spice?” Marie asked, standing over Freeman, who lay on the ground, chest heaving.
“I realize we just met and all,” he huffed, “but I hate you.”
“Oh come on now, you can rush a decision like that,” the tattooed nurse teased. “I’m sure once you get to know me, you’ll really hate me.” She winked and knelt down, smacking him on the chest a few times.
“Come on Freeman,” Frank said as he strode over. “We ain’t done yet.”
He helped his laboring second in command get to his feet, and they moved across the walkway in combat formation.
Once at the doors to the hotel, Frank turned to him. “I want you to stay here with Jason and Marie,” he instructed. “We need to keep this doorway accessible in case we encounter major resistance.”
“I need a breather anyway,” Freeman replied.
“Don’t slack off too much, or else Marie will mock you mercilessly,” Frank replied, a wicked glint in his eye.
“Happy to do my part, Sergeant,” the nurse added with a smirk.
He saluted her. “Breach on my mark. Follow my lead and secure a firing line once we hit a clearing. Be ready to retreat at a moment’s notice,” he instructed, and the men all made noises in the affirmative. “Go!”
Gardner and Reyes pushed open the door, and Frank rushed in with Webb and Owens right behind him. The moved with haste down the long darkened hallway, and Frank narrowly ducked as a figure leapt out, swinging a broom handle at him.
The soldiers raised their guns at a terrified looking man in a hotel uniform, who dropped the broom immediately and put his hands up. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” he cried.
“We safe up here?” Frank asked, lowering his weapon. There were a few other hotel employees behind him, dressed in bellhop and housekeeping uniforms.
“Kind of?” the man replied with a nervous shrug.
There were groans in the distance, and Frank led his squad to the edge of the landing at the end of the hall, looking over to the ground floor below. There were dozens of zombies roaming the lobby, body parts strewn everywhere, crimson marring the once pristine hotel.
“Can they get up here?” Frank asked.
“No,” the broom handle wielder replied. “We shut down the elevators when things started going crazy. The only other way up here is the escalators and we have them barricaded. It’s not perfect, but it’s held up okay so far.”
The Sergeant surveyed the luggage carts and furniture jam packing the escalators. “Yeah, that’s not gonna hold. Owens, Reyes, go see what you can do about shoring that up,” he instructed, and the two soldiers headed over to inspect the pile. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Chad,” the employee replied.
“Hi Chad,” Frank said gently. “I’m Sergeant Frank Kyle, US Delta Force. We’re here to retrieve some of your guests who are attending the Engineering Conference. Are they still in their rooms?”
“The ones who made it are here,” the scared man replied. “We had a lot of cancellations due to illness, but there’s a hundred, hundred and fifty people who checked in yesterday.”
Frank’s brow furrowed. “A hundred and fifty people in a hotel this size?”
“I was talking to one of the organizers of the conference and he said the keynote speaker had to pull out at the last minute,” Chad explained. “When that news spread, the cancellations started pouring in.”
“Shit,” the Sergeant huffed, “give me a minute.” He lifted his radio. “Bill, come in.”
“I’m here, Sergeant,” the old man replied.
“We’re at the objective but we may have slim pickings,” Frank said. “The top speaker backed out due to illness, and a lot of others canceled as a result. I don’t have names, but you may want to alert the higher ups. If I get more info, I’ll pass it along.”
“Understood,” Bill said. “You ready for the transports?”
Frank shook his head. “Not yet. We have some complications.”
“Be safe,” the old man said. “Bill out.”
“We may want to keep it down Sarge,” Owens suggested as he and Reyes strode back over. “That barricade isn’t going to hold more than four of five of those things back.”
“Alright,” Frank agreed. “Reyes, go get Freeman. We’re going to have to clear the deck here.” He turned back to Chad as the soldier ran off. “Tell me about the lobby.”
“There’s two sets of doors at the front there that are on a key card locking system,” the employee explained, motioning across the space below. “The panel is on the left side there. One swipe followed by the code will lock both sets of doors as well as the revolving door. And that’s about it, really.”
The Sergeant raised an eyebrow. “A hotel this size has to have other entrances. Concentrate. I need you to think.”
“And I need you to stop being condescending,” Chad snapped. “Yes, there are other entrances, but we were short staffed this morning so I didn’t bother unlockin
g the other doors. I wanted to wait for some others to show up, but chaos broke out before that happened. So those doors at the front are the only ones open right now.”
Frank sighed. “My apologies,” he said sincerely. “Been a hell of a day so far.”
“It’s cool.” Chad nodded curtly.
“I’m going to need the keycard and the code,” the Sergeant said.
The employee took a deep breath. “Code is the easy part, it’s 6, 7, 4. Card on the other hand,” he said and pointed down to the front desk. “Going to require a bit of effort.”
“Man, ain’t nothing easy today,” Frank said with a groan. “Okay, where’s the card?”
“It’s on the left side,” Chad began, and then waved his hand. “I mean left as we are looking at it now. Just underneath the desk, there’s a card reader, it’s going to be stuck in there. We needed it to trigger the elevator lockdown, but I wasn’t able to grab it before coming up here.”
“Is removing it going to end the lockdown?” Frank asked.
The employee shook his head. “No, can’t undo it without the code.”
“Thanks,” the Sergeant replied and turned to the group. “Anybody up for volunteering?”
“One-two-three-not it!” Freeman cried as he walked up.
Gardner stepped forward. “What do you need done, sir?”
“You’re going to be our key man,” Frank addressed him. “We’re going to start taking them out on the escalator, and when we do, you’re going to jump down, grab the key, and secure the door. Once we start making a racket they should come flooding in from the street.”
Gardner nodded. “I’ll get it done, sir.”
“Hey Reyes,” the Sergeant continued, “you ever hear back from sniper school?”
The Corporal shook his head. “Missed qualifying on the shooting portion by two points, sir.”
“Well, Gardner, this is your lucky day,” Frank declared with a grin. “If he hit one more shot he wouldn’t be here to cover your run.”
“You know what they say Sarge,” Gardner teased, “beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Just be mindful of the glass, Reyes,” Frank added seriously. “One bad shot and we’re fucked.”
Dead America The First Week (Book 1): Carolina Front Page 5
