Dead America: The First Week Box Set Books 1-7 (Dead America Box Sets Book 2)

by Derek Slaton

The coughing man fell to the floor, and his friend attempted to catch him, failing miserably. There was a crack as the fallen man’s head smacked off of the concrete.

  Estelle gasped. “Oh my god!”

  Terrell walked around the counter to survey the damage. “Estelle, babe, I want you to get on the other side of the counter by your boss, there,” he instructed, and drew his sidearm. “Sir, you need to back away from your friend right now.”

  “Please, get help,” the downed man’s friend begged.

  “I will, but first you need to-”

  The body of the downed customer reanimated and immediately latched up onto his friend’s throat. The surprised man jerked backwards, and a massive chunk of his flesh tore free, spraying blood all over the floor. He collapsed backwards, body twitching as he bled out.

  The zombie customer struggled to get to its feet, but Terrell put a bullet in its head, striding over to make sure it had the intended result.

  “Sarge, you okay?” Corporal Coleman rushed from behind one of the shelves, rifle drawn.

  The Sergeant nodded. “I’m good. Just had first contact.”

  “Christ, it’s starting already,” Coleman breathed, face pale as he surveyed the scene.

  “Alert the others,” Terrell instructed. “Our timetable just moved up.”

  The Corporal nodded and ran off while his superior leaned over the zombie victim, whose breath slowed to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” Estelle asked, voice shaking. “What is going on?”

  “Estelle, hon,” Terrell looked at her, gaze softening. “I need you to calm down. I want you to go and get your things, get in your car and get as far away from the city as you can, okay?”

  She gaped. “Yes, I… yes.” She ran off as her boss pulled himself up, still wheezing.

  “As far as your racist ass goes, I suggest you go home, pack up your cousin-wife, and get out of town, too,” Terrell said, and put his foot against the corpse’s chest, leaning his full weight on it. He wasn’t sure if it would reanimate just from being bitten, but he didn’t want to take any chances. It did, but wasn’t able to move underneath the Sergeant’s hulking foot. “Because if these things don’t get you,” he said to the gasping Mr. Francis, “I will.”

  To accentuate his point, he put a bullet in the newly minted zombie’s forehead.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Frank and his team pulled up to the hospital, blue and red lights illuminating the pavement as he stepped out of the Humvee.

  “This can’t be good,” Corporal Freeman said as he stepped up beside the Sergeant, surveying the police cruisers strewn about.

  Frank nodded. “At least there aren’t any gunshots.”

  “Yet,” Freeman added.

  “Alright, Cole, Owens, Gardner, set up a fire line,” the Sergeant instructed loudly. “Webb, Reyes, you be ready to secure whatever we sent out the door. Freeman, you’re on me.”

  There was a chorus of Yes, sir!

  “Webb, get my driver here a radio so he can be in the loop,” Frank continued. “If y’all get tied up, I don’t want my transport to be late.”

  Webb saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Frank and Freeman entered the hospital lobby, finding it backed. Sick people and their loved ones shoulders to shoulder. Nurses and doctors scrambled everywhere, trying to triage everyone and survey the damage. Two police officers stood at the main nurses station.

  “Officers, what’s going on?” Frank asked.

  One of the officers raised his chin, hand on his gun. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Sergeant Kyle and this is Corporal Freeman.” He gestured back and forth between them. “We’re here for Doctor Mullins. Now an you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Settle down there soldier boy.” The officer put up a hand and rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you a damn thing until I call this in and see if you’re legit or not.”

  “You do what you gotta do, just don’t get in our way,” Frank replied. “Nurse, what’s going on?”

  The officer immediately attempted to step between him and the nurse, but Freeman moved into the way, finger on the trigger of his assault rifle.

  “Wouldn’t be a wise move,” he warned. “You had your chance to help, but you wanted to be a little bitch about it. So go make your call.”

  The officer’s partner gently grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back as Freeman gave them a dismissive wave. He turned around.

  “So where’s our boy?” he asked.

  Frank pursed his lips. “Top floor, but there’s a complication.”

  “As I told him,” the nurse piped up, “about a half an hour ago the top two floors went into lockdown. We don’t know what’s going on since nobody will pick up the phone, but whatever is happening, it isn’t good.”

  She turned her small monitor towards them. It showed a vast room with overturned desks, blood spattered everywhere, and a few dark figures stumbling around in the dim light.

  “We’re going up to get the doc,” Frank said firmly. “How do we gain access?”

  She poked her head out of the station window. “Billy!” she called, and an old security guard lumbered over. “Billy, come here, these boys need your stairwell key.”

  “Big gold one right there,” he said as he handed over his keyring. “Get you in any door you want.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Freeman said, and took the keys.

  Frank turned back to the nurse. “Ma’am, this is what I need you to do,” he said. “Tell every nurse and doctor you can find to drop whatever they’re doing and head out to the transports just up the street. I’m also going to need you to grab every antibiotic, drug, syringe, whatever you can carry and take it with you. And most importantly, we’re going to need every single blood-testing kit you can secure, because we have to be sure to exclude anyone with A-type blood.”

  “Um, no,” the nurse replied, putting up a hand. “Do you not see this waiting room? If you think this is bad, the upper floors have several times this many people, all sick, and all in need of our care. I’m not going to abandon them, and the others sure as hell aren’t either.”

  Frank leaned over the counter, eyes hard. “Stay calm and listen,” he hissed. “There was a bioterrorism attack, and every sick person here is infected. In a matter of hours, this entire city is going to look like what you showed me on the monitor there. You need to do as I say, and do it now. Not just for your sake, but for the sake of the country.”

  The nurse took a step back, face pale. She nodded jerkily.

  “Looks like you’re the real deal,” the officer drawled from behind them.

  Freeman rolled his eyes. “We know.”

  “Officers,” Frank said, “help this nurse with whatever she needs.”

  “Hey now.” The officer scowled. “You may be the real deal, but we don’t answer to you.”

  “Well, you can either help them,” Frank said as he cocked his gun, “or help us clear the top floor.”

  The officer froze, and turned to the counter. “Ma’am, what can we help with?”

  The Sergeant nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  Freeman led the way up the stairwell, and the duo reached the door to the top floor. Frank gave a silent countdown, weapon at the ready as his partner unlocked the door. As soon as he opened it, a zombie turned and screeched at him.

  In reflex, Frank shot it right in the face, the noise causing three more to immediately rush the door.

  “Contact! Contact! Contact!” the Sergeant screamed, firing shots in rapid succession. Freeman slammed the door and they put their full weight against it, two remaining zombies wedging themselves in it. Frank struggled to reload his gun while dodging their flailing hands and helping to hold the door.

  “Anytime now, Sarge!” Freeman cried.

  Frank grunted. “Working on it!” He finally secured the clip and curled around the door, firing twice to down their opponents. He kicked the corpses out of the way and Freeman kicked the door s
hut. The two of them breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Well,” Frank huffed, “that didn’t work.”

  “Were you able to see any others?” his partner asked.

  “Maybe, I don’t know,” he replied. “I’m sure if there are, we’ll be hearing from them soon.” As if on cue, there was more banging on the door.

  “Fuck,” Freeman said.

  Frank took a deep breath. “Ideas?”

  The Corporal looked up at the Roof Access sign pointing to a ladder in the corner. “Well,” he drawled, “you wanna John McClane it?”

  The Sergeant scoffed. “No, I yippee-ki-yay motherfucking don’t wanna John McClane it. In what universe is that a good idea?”

  “I mean, you used to always teach us to think outside the box,” Freeman replied with a smirk.

  Frank sighed. “And me dangling off the side of a building by a fire hose would certainly qualify,” he admitted. “But let’s try to keep it in the realm of possibility here.”

  “Well, what do you propose?” The Corporal shrugged.

  The Sergeant inclined his head. “We’re gonna open the door again.”

  “Speaking of good ideas.” Freeman rolled his eyes.

  “Obviously not the full reveal we just did,” Frank explained. “But we’ll brace it, open it up just a bit and pick them off until we can clear the way.”

  The Corporal shrugged. “Not the worst idea I’ve heard today.”

  “Good to know you pay attention to the things that come out of your mouth,” Frank retorted. His partner grinned and then got into position. He braced himself against the door as his superior readied his gun. “On your mark,” the Sergeant prompted.

  Freeman took a deep breath and unlatched the door. It immediately flew open, slamming into his leg and shoulder, but he stood fast. Frank took careful aim, and with each shot the pressure against his partner lessened. Finally the door fell slack, and the Corporal raised an eyebrow.

  “Are we good?” he asked.

  Frank stepped forward. “Let’s find out.” He curled his lip under his teeth and let out a deafening whistle that echoed off of the empty hallways. “Alright, let’s move. Just keep your guard up.”

  They moved into the fluorescent-lit hallway, slow at first but speeding up to a trot. The patient rooms on either side of them were locked tight, a nurses station ahead in ruins. A waiting room with a glass wall and doors lay to the left of it, a mop shoved through the door handle.

  “Fucking hell, man!” Freeman startled as the sight of several zombies smacked against the glass. A small crack in the glass spidered out, and he swallowed hard. “Fucking hell, man.”

  Frank shook his head. “Come on, let’s move.” He led the way quickly to the end of the hallway, to the lab doors that had the Doctor’s name on the plaque outside. He banged on it loudly. “Doctor Mullins, we came to get you out of here!” he yelled.

  There was a moment of silence, and then the latch clicked. A young blonde woman gently pushed the door open, and then brought a tattooed arm up to smack Frank’s weapon out of the way.

  “Yo, watch it with that thing,” she snapped.

  He lowered his arms. “Sorry, you never know what’s behind the doors up here.”

  “We’re cool,” she assured him. “Just get in here.” She waved them in and she secured the door. Two shell shocked looking nurses covered in blood stood on either side of a nervous man with jet black hair in his late fifties.

  “Where’s Doctor Mullins?” Frank demanded.

  The man raised his hands. “I’m Doctor Mullins. Who are you?”

  “We’re Delta Force, here to extract you and your team to safety,” the Sergeant explained.

  The doctor paled. “Delta Force? What the hell is going on?”

  “You’ll get a full debrief, but we have to move now,” Frank insisted.

  Mullins crossed his arms. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

  “What happened in this room is going to happen all over this country in a matter of hours,” Frank snapped, voice rising in volume. “My orders are to bring you in, because somebody way above my pay grade thinks you’re important enough to risk my life for. Now get whatever you need because we have to go, now!”

  “Hard drives, get the hard drives,” Mullins instructed.

  The tattooed woman motioned to the nurses. “Grab that laptop beside you,” she demanded, and one of the nervous women picked up the offending computer, hugging it tightly to her body.

  “Webb, we have the package and are on the move,” Frank said into the radio attached to his vest.

  “Copy that Sarge, loading up meds and professionals now,” came the crackled reply. “We’ll be ready for-” Machine gun fire blasted through the speaker, and Frank immediately ran over to the window to look down at the street.

  “Webb, report!” he screamed as zombies poured out of the hospital and his team fired at them.

  “Y’all may wanna hurry up, they getting frisky down here!” came the reply.

  Frank raised a hand. “Freeman, let’s move.”

  The sound of glass shattering down the hall made the Corporal’s blood run cold as he opened the lab doors. “We’ve got company.”

  “Give me a hand with this!” the tattooed woman cried, and pushed a large metal gurney through the doorway. Freeman pulled on it and braced his foot against it, hard enough to block the zombies slamming into the other side. He took selective shots, taking strategic ones down to try to block the rest.

  “There’s another stairwell this way!” the tattooed woman said, and pointed out the other end of the hallway to Frank. The Corporal tossed her the keys as the Sergeant led the group of panicked medical professionals to the back stairwell. Freeman slowly retreated while keeping an eye on the gurney. He backed up as the group turned a corner and the woman fumbled with the keys.

  “Incoming!” he warned as the gurney toppled over, and he fired to try to slow them down.

  She finally hurled the stairwell door open, screaming, “Got it!”

  Frank barreled in first to make sure it was clear, and then dove out of the way to give everyone room to get in. Freeman finished his magazine before slipping inside, slamming it shut behind him. The thumps against the door told them he was just in time.

  “Alright, everybody stay behind me and close,” Frank instructed. There was a screech from below that echoed up to them, and he pursed his lips. “Okay, maybe stay a few feet back.” He led the way down, the screeches growing louder. He turned the corner on a landing to see a lone zombie running up the stairs. Rather than fire, he waited until it was almost at him before lashing up with his foot and booting it directly in the face.

  The zombie flew back, landing on its head on the stairs, a sharp crack the telltale sign of a broken neck. He paused to make sure that it was down for good and there were no friends lurking about.

  “Bottom floor, let’s go,” Frank hissed, and then led the rest of the way down to the first floor. Freeman moved up to the door beside him, and they mirrored what they did at the top, the Corporal bracing and the Sergeant ready to shoot.

  The door cracked open to chaos. Zombies feasted on struggling victims, people screamed and ran around wildly, screeching creatures in hot pursuit, the occasional bullet tearing bodies and drywall. Freeman shut the door and took a deep breath.

  “Webb, do you copy?” Frank asked into his radio.

  Crackle. “I’m here, Sarge.”

  “We’re gonna be coming out the front and coming out hot,” the Sergeant said. “So be ready to move, and for the love of christ, don’t fucking shoot me.”

  The tattooed woman shook her head. “We’re not making it through that to the front door.”

  “I know you’re scared, but we’ll be fine,” Frank replied gently.

  “No, we’ll be dead.” She glared at him. “There’s another way.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I’m all ears.”

  “Crack the door again,” she
instructed, and they did so. “Ten yards up the on the right,” she whispered to him, “you see that hallway?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “About fifteen yards down it, on the right, there’s another short hallway that has an emergency exit,” she explained. “It’s some little park area where we sneak off for a smoke.”

  Frank smiled. “Alright, smoker’s paradise it is,” he said, and then grabbed his radio as Freeman shut the door again. “Webb, change of plans. You get the team out of here via the transports.”

  There was a click. “Copy that.”

  “Jason, we are going to need immediate pickup from the park on the east side of the building,” Frank continued.

  Another click. “On the way!” Jason declared through the speaker.

  The two soldiers readied their assault rifles and Frank handed his sidearm to the tattooed woman. “You know how to use one of these?” he asked, and she checked the mag, checked the chamber, and cocked it with a wink. “All the answer I needed.” He nodded to the group. “Everybody say on my six, Freeman will be bringing up the rear. We stay low, we move fast. Nobody fires unless they absolutely have to. Last thing we need is to let those things know we’re here.” He took a deep breath as everyone nodded, and then he motioned to Freeman.

  The Corporal opened the door and Frank ran out, rifle at the ready. They hugged the wall as they moved quickly down the corridor, eyes everywhere. Freeman brought up the rear but just as he was about to turn the corner to the middle hallway, a zombie took notice of him and tore their way.

  He fired, taking its head clean off, and a few zombies stopped their feasting to look in their direction. Freeman dispatched them as the group sprinted to the escape hallway. Frank stopped short, peeking around at the sight of half a dozen zombies feasting on a body, blocking their path.

  Freeman continued to fire down the first corridor, holding the lobby horde at bay, and Frank pulled a grenade from his belt, snapping out the pin.

  “Fire in the hole!” he cried, and threw it into the group of zombies right at the emergency exit door. The explosion rocked the building, sending body parts flying everywhere. A severed leg smacked against the wall right next to Doctor Mullins, whose eyes nearly bugged clean out of his head.