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

by Derek Slaton

  Terrell chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry man, we’re R-rated.”

  “X-rated if we’re in the proper company,” Coleman added, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Anyway Lynch,” the Captain said, “you were explaining the clusterfuck we currently find ourselves in?”

  “We’ve been fighting off both humans and zombies at the gates for the last few hours,” the Corporal replied. “Lost a couple of good men to snipers, but we’re relatively confident we’ve neutralized that threat. Or at the very least chased them away.”

  Terrell nodded. “How are the streets looking?”

  “Sun set about forty-five minutes ago, but we did send a drone up just before dusk,” Lynch said. “The battle lines in the city solidified pretty quickly. The civilians who are left have boarded themselves up in whatever structure they could find. The zombies that aren’t indoors are roaming the streets in packs.”

  Coleman crossed his arms. “Packs? How big?”

  “Most of them weren’t too large, eight or ten,” the younger man replied. “A few of them, though, were a little more daunting. Saw one that had to be at least a hundred.”

  “Well, let’s hope we only run into the small ones, huh?” Coleman let out a deep breath.

  Terrell shook his head. “I don’t think it’s gonna matter that much. As soon as we start making noise, every pack within earshot is gonna be headed our way.”

  “So, no gunplay,” the Corporal said, giving a sarcastic thumbs-up. “This shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

  “You got a map for me, Lynch?” Terrell asked, ignoring his companion. The Corporal handed him a small tablet with a city map on it.

  “Here you go,” he said, “GPS with a city map. Should help you navigate the streets.”

  “Streets are gonna be too dangerous,” the Captain said with a shake of his head. “We’re going on foot, cut through a few buildings, and hopefully stay out of sight of everyone.”

  “Risky play.” Lynch shrugged. “But probably less so than driving down the street in a Humvee.”

  “Yep,” Terrell agreed, “kinda hard to do a rescue mission when you lead a horde of zombies right to them.”

  The Corporal nodded. “What else do you need from me?”

  “When those transports get back, make sure you throw some ladders in there.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Ladders, sir?”

  “Yeah, cause after we go rescue your boys, my team is gonna go secure more supplies,” Terrell said. “We’ll get them up to the roof, and load them in through the top hatch. When we have everything staged, we’ll be in touch, the team can pick us up and we’ll go around the neighborhood like we’re trick or treating.”

  “That’s… kind of…” Lynch stammered. “Brilliant, Captain. Won’t matter if they attract a horde as you’ll be out of reach.”

  The Captain grinned. “That’s the plan, my man,” he said, and extended his fist for a hearty bump. “Coleman, you ready?”

  The Corporal grinned. “You know me, Cap, love my leisurely evening strolls.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “All right guys, coast looks clear as far as I can see,” Terrell said, addressing his team. “When we hop the fence, head for the side street. We’re going up two blocks until we hit Mason’s Furniture Store. That’ll be our first cut through. When we get there, Jenkins is on lock pick duty, the rest of us are standing guard. Questions?”

  “No, sir!” the team all replied in unison.

  The Captain nodded. “Well, let’s move out, then,” he said, and the six special forces members set two ladders against the outer fence of Fort Bragg. He surveyed the area with night-vision goggles to make sure there were no civilians or zombies creeping about, and then waved his team forward.

  Bennett and Coleman were first, scurrying up and hopping over. Foster and Martinez followed, and then Terrell went up with Jenkins last. As soon as their boots hit the dirt, they automatically took defensive formation, moving down the street as one. The grunts inside the fence saluted and took the ladders away to dissuade anyone from trying to break in that way.

  The small roadway was nearly pitch black, trees blocking the majority of the moonlight. Terrell took point with his goggles, watching the path with his green-glowing view. He raised his fist to stop the men at the first intersection, peering around the corner to see a group of about twenty zombies around thirty yards away. Some of them were banging on the front door of a nearby townhouse, the others milling about randomly as if they’d lost interest in the potential human meal inside.

  Terrell turned and motioned that they were going to move silently across the intersection, receiving nods all around. He hoped that the shadows would be enough to conceal them. He held up his hand, giving a countdown for everyone to see.

  On three, they swiftly moved across the intersection, quiet as could be. The Captain kept his weapon aimed towards the zombies as they went, looking for any sign they were being noticed. He reached the other side first, and took a knee at the corner of the building, watching intently as his team disappeared behind him.

  He held his breath as a zombie seemed to be squinting at him in the darkness, but then another corpse slammed its arm into a metal mailbox and distracted the whole group of rotting flesh. Terrell let out a quiet sigh of relief and then pulled back behind the building.

  They moved up the dark alleyway and reached the street with the furniture store. It was to their right, floor to ceiling windows showing off the still pristine furniture inside. There was a set of double doors in the center, ornately decorated and almost looked out of place in the ransacked street surrounding it.

  Jenkins slung his gun around to his back, and knelt down in front of the doors, working on the lock with deftness and speed. Thirty-seconds later, there was a satisfying thunk and click as he unlatched it.

  “We’re in,” he whispered, and took a step inside.

  Immediately a shot rang out, and the entire right half of Jenkins’ face exploded in a fantastic array of blood and grey matter, his body crumpling back into the street. His five teammates immediately dove behind the display furniture, still on the sidewalk.

  “Why the fuck ain’t they firing?” Coleman hissed.

  A loud moan broke the heavy silence, and Terrell muttered a curse under his breath at the sight of the pack of zombies they’d avoided ambling around the corner a block away.

  “Probably because the chickenshits don’t wanna get eaten!” Foster cried.

  Another moan echoed from the other direction, and the Captain swung around. “We gotta move!” He set his sights on the apartment building across the street with a metal gate across the doorway. He sprinted towards it, his team hot on his heels, and they took a defensive formation as he shoved his assault rifle through the bars to hit the button release on the inner wall.

  He pulled it open and they scrambled inside just as the zombies reached it. They wrestled it shut and then backed away as hands clawed in at them, trying to get a piece but getting nothing but air.

  “Fuck!” Coleman screamed. “Those motherfuckers killed Jenkins! You assholes are lucky I can’t get to you!” He kicked at the gate with his boot as if to accentuate his point, rattling the gate even more for the corpses between him and their unknown antagonists.

  “That’s enough,” Terrell scolded, clapping a hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Keep your head in the game, soldier.”

  The Corporal took a deep ragged breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. His moment of zen didn’t last long, however, as screams echoed from the narrow hallway behind them. Martinez and Bennett took a knee, taking lower firing position, as the others raised their guns over their heads. At the sound of inhuman shrieks, Terrell lowered his night-vision and opened fire into the bright green trio of zombies running at him.

  Bennett and Martinez helped shred the oncoming creatures, the bodies flopping to the carpet just before they reached the cluster of men in the narrow hallway.

&n
bsp; “Bennett, Foster, keep watch,” Terrell instructed, and slid out of the way so they could get past him to the gate. The Captain strained his ears, making sure there were no more groans or moans from their general vicinity inside the building.

  “So what’s the play, Cap?” Coleman asked as Terrell pulled out his GPS.

  He tapped on the screen. “I think I got us a new route,” he said.

  “No,” the Corporal replied firmly, “what’s the play on those assholes who killed Jenkins?”

  Terrell straightened his shoulders. “We don’t have one.”

  “What the fuck, Cap?” Coleman snapped.

  “You need to watch your tone, Corporal,” the Captain said, voice low and menacing, and his companion took a step back under the intimidation. “I want vengeance for Jenkins just as much as you do, but right now we need to focus on the mission at hand. We’d use up every bit of ammo we had just clearing a path to take them out, and we got more pressing issues to deal with.”

  The Corporal sighed deeply, turning to gaze out the gate at the furniture store. He glowered at the pack of zombies in his way, brow furrowed. Terrell, satisfied, turned back to the GPS, zooming in on the map to make sure his new route was viable.

  “Hey Cap,” Coleman piped up, “give me three bullets.”

  The Captain raised an eyebrow, impatience on his face. “You gonna get your vengeance with three bullets?”

  “Yep,” the Corporal replied, puffing out his chest.

  “All right, three bullets,” Terrell said, waving him off. “Have at it.”

  Coleman grinned deviously and headed for the gate. “Hey Martinez, can you give me a boost?”

  Martinez let out a torrent of coughs, taking a moment to regain composure. Once settled, he braced himself, and stuck his right leg out like a stepping stool. “Sure thing.”

  The Corporal planted one foot on his companion’s leg, hopped up, and put his other foot on the wall so that he could see over the zombies at the gate. He carefully took aim between the bars, and then fired. The sound of glass shattering permeated the street, and he fired two more times, blowing out the other two windows of the furniture store.

  He hopped down, and then there were numerous gunshots from inside the store to return fire. The zombies immediately realized they had a better chance at a meal across the street, and a pack of them ran for the store. The group heard more gunshots, moans, and snarls, until there was silence in the street.

  “Vengeance in three shots,” Coleman declared.

  Terrell nodded, impressed. “And you partially cleared the street for us,” he agreed. “Well played, Corporal.”

  “Just doin’ my part, Cap,” he replied with a grin.

  Terrell clapped him on the shoulder and slid the tablet back into his pocket. “All right men, we’re burnin’ moonlight. Let’s get rolling.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Frank lifted his radio to his lips. “Bill, do you copy?” he asked, brow furrowed. The civilians mingled about the second floor conference room, his team making sure that the corridors were on constant watch in case of any uninvited guests.

  “Captain, good to hear your voice,” Bill replied through the receiver. “The boys in the chopper said you had a bit of a situation.”

  Owens hissed as Marie wrapped new bandages around his hand, and Frank gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The Corporal needed to rest, and they’d laid him down on a neighboring table.

  “That’s an understatement,” he said. “The VIPs make it safely?”

  “Yes sir, getting them settled as we speak,” Bill replied, and Freeman let out a deep sigh of relief from behind Marie. “And based on the conference program one of them was carrying, you were able to secure some of the heavyweights in the industry.”

  “Good to know it wasn’t all for nothing,” Frank said.

  Bill clicked his end on, but paused a beat before asking, “So, do you have any idea of how you are getting back here?”

  “Still kicking it around,” the Captain replied, trying to sound light. “Once we have our terrible desperation plan in place, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Let me know what you need,” Bill replied immediately. “Bill out.”

  Frank leaned back in his chair, curling his arms behind his head. He was the picture of perfect relaxation, save for the lines on his forehead that gave him away. “All right, floor is open,” he began, “whose got a bright idea on how we move seventy people across a cannibal infested city?”

  Freeman, Marie and Owens glanced blankly at each other, seeming to struggle to come up with anything even remotely intelligent.

  “Do we need to be in a huge rush?” Freeman broke the silence with a shrug. “This place is pretty posh, might do us some good to get in a little spa treatment and some five star dining.” He licked his lips.

  Marie raised an eyebrow. “And what happens in a week, when we run out of food and the numbers of zombies have gone up exponentially?”

  “Not to mention there are about a thousand different ways this place can be breached,” Frank added. “We need to get out of here tonight.”

  Freeman’s shoulder sagged. “Are there any other places a chopper could land?” he asked, worrying his lip. “I mean, that we could actually get to?”

  “Hey Chad!” Frank called, waving over the hotel employee. “Can we borrow you for a minute?”

  The wiry man got up from his table and strode over, his uniform still flawlessly in place. “Yes, sir?” he asked, formally, standing in front of the quartet.

  “Are there any places a helicopter might be able to land that we could actually get to?” the Captain asked.

  “I’m sorry, but no,” Chad replied, shaking his head in disappointment. “That’s the only above ground parking deck for ten blocks. Our building isn’t equipped to handle a landing, and I can’t think of any other nearby that are either.”

  Freeman clucked his tongue. “Well, fuck.”

  “Chad, why don’t you have a seat and join us?” Frank invited, pulling a chair from behind him to join the group. “You know the downtown area better than any of us, and we might have more questions.”

  The hotel employee pinked a little and took a step towards the seat. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Oh, hey, before you sit down, can I get a coffee?” Freeman asked. He blinked as Marie and Frank glared at him, and then raised his eyebrows in incredulity. “What? It’s gonna be a long night, and I could use a caffeine boost.”

  “How about manners, dumbass?” Marie snapped.

  “Please,” Chad cut in, putting his hands up. “It’s quite all right. Would anyone else care for coffee?”

  “Yes, please, thank you, Chad,” Marie replied, eyeing Freeman.

  Frank nodded. “Yeah, thanks buddy,” he said.

  “Edward!” Chad yelled, and a young hotel employee near knocked his chair over in his scramble to run over to the group.

  “Yes sir?” he asked, breathless as he reached them.

  “Can you please get us a fresh pot of coffee and some mugs?”

  “Coming right up, sir!” Edward replied and scurried off to secure refreshments.

  Chad sat down in the previously offered chair and noticed the blank stares of the group. “Well, you said you needed my expertise,” he replied sheepishly, “and seeing as how this is the last day I’m going to be a manager of anything, I wanted to use my powers of delegation before I lose them.”

  Freeman chuckled. “I like this guy.”

  “Chad, are there any employee parking areas?” Marie asked. “Any vehicles we can get to at all?”

  “No, we’re not even allowed to use the parking deck,” the hotel attendant replied. “We have to use the park and ride outside of town.”

  “What about the walkways?” Frank cut in. “Where all do they connect to?”

  “Well, there are only two remaining ones,” Chad explained. “There’s the shopping mall one, then another one that just goes into a small room with an elevator to
take people down to the park.”

  Freeman laughed. “Hey, we’ve got a bunch of tables and luggage carts. Let’s strap one to the other and have a rolling fortress through the streets.” He raised his fist. “We’ll be like modern-day Spartans!”

  “That is the single stupidest idea I’ve ever heard, Pumpkin Spice.” Marie rolled her eyes.

  He raised an eyebrow. “In my defense, you weren’t there for Gardner’s C4 idea.”

  “Even so, I’d still put my money on you.” She sneered.

  He winked at her. “Good to know you still have faith in me.”

  She smiled and shook her head.

  Frank sighed. “Come on guys, we need real ideas.”

  “What about the transports?” Owens piped up, and everyone turned to look at the horizontal man.

  “Go on,” the Captain urged.

  “Didn’t Bill say they were going to park them at the bus depot?” the Corporal asked.

  Frank nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

  “Well, we’re a bunch of badasses,” Owens wheezed. “So we get over there, commandeer them, and save the day.”

  Freeman chuckled. “I like it. But how are we getting the people in?”

  “Well, Gardner has already showed that those skywalks aren’t the strongest,” Marie said. “We could break through and load them in at the mall one.” Owens’ eyes fluttered closed to rest some more, now that the conversation had been taken over again.

  “Looks like this one is the winner by default,” Frank agreed. “Chad, how close can we get to the depot without being on the ground?”

  Edward approached with a tray of mugs and a coffee pot, and as he leaned over to set it on the table, Chad plucked the pen out of his breast pocket. He started to sketch across the white tablecloth.

  “Okay, we’re here,” he said as he finished a crude map of downtown. “If you go through the mall, there’s another walkway that leads to an office building. There’s a connector from the office building to an apartment high rise. It’s only about three and a half blocks up from there on a side street, but you’ll be on the ground.”