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

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Dead America: The First Week Box Set Books 1-7 (Dead America Box Sets Book 2) Page 13

by Derek Slaton


  “Lynch, find a way to shut that fucking thing off!” he barked. “It’s going to attract every zombie in the goddamn city!”

  “Sir!” Lynch tore off into the back room, and though the alarm continued, Terrell could hear gunshots through the wailing. He and Wagner shared a concerned glance, and the Captain readied his assault rifle.

  “Get your weapons!” Terrell snapped at the frozen office workers, and they rushed to their desks to each grab a handgun.

  The Captain threw open the door and stepped out, immediately turning in the direction of the front gate. He raised his weapon towards the noise, and waited. The infirmary blocked his view, but within a moment several troops came running around the side. They fired wildly back towards the front gate, one soldier standing his ground and unloading an entire magazine.

  Terrell watched helplessly as the soldier was swarmed by several zombies.

  “They’ve breached the gate!” he screamed, and there was a thunderous crash as the transport vehicle ripped through the small infirmary building. Medical supplies and bodies flew through the air, zombies latched onto the outside of the vehicle. The driver swung erratically, eventually smashing into a storage building where a handful of soldiers tore outside in the nick of time.

  Terrell’s first instinct was to rush to his comrades, but the two office workers began to fire wildly into the oncoming horde of zombies coming right at them. He turned to the gate once again, this time able to see it without the infirmary standing in the way, and his heart sank at the sight of it wide open. Zombies poured in, in a never-ending flood.

  There were about a hundred troops setting up an impromptu firing line, and automatic gunfire filled the air, a wall of lead ripping through the front wave of the deadly assault. The bulk of the ghouls weren’t affected much by the random spray assault, with not many headshots, and quickly closed the gap between them and the firing line.

  Some of the troops attempted to reload, but most of them attempted to dash back to the barracks. The horde didn’t differentiate, slamming into the line and quickly overwhelming them. The gunfire slowly died down, overtaken by screams of agony, and Terrell grabbed the two stunned office personnel by the arms.

  “We gotta get inside, now,” he demanded, and shoved them back inside. He slammed the door shut. “Move that desk over here!” he cried, but they both just stared at him. “Move it, unless you want to end up like them!”

  They snapped back into reality and grabbed the metal desk, shoving it as hard as they could to the door. Terrell helped wedge it right against it, the banging intensifying from the other side. The alarm finally ceased, leaving only the terrifying sounds of wet flesh smacking against the outer walls of the building.

  “How bad is it?” Wagner asked, as the gunfire died down to only the occasional shot.

  Terrell shook his head. “We ain’t going anywhere for a while.”

  Wagner slumped down in his chair, jaw clenched. The fire in his eyes slowly flickered away, replaced by a hopelessness the Captain had never seen on the Colonel.

  “Can…” Wagner stammered. “Can you… can you contact whoever is above us and… just…”

  Corporal Lynch approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry Colonel, I’ll let the higher ups know the situation.”

  Wagner flinched at a nearby gunshot, and then turned in his chair to face the wall, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

  “He good?” Terrell asked softly as Lynch skirted the desk.

  “Yeah, he just needs a minute,” the Corporal replied.

  The Captain took a deep breath. “Well, at the moment, we have plenty of time to spare. You get on the horn to his CO, and let them know what’s up. I’ll get in touch with my guys.”

  “I’m on it,” Lynch replied.

  Terrell took a seat at the remaining desk as the Corporal scurried off, and put his feet up. He raised his radio receiver to his mouth.

  “Coleman, Martinez, anybody read?” he asked. “You guys make it through the crash?”

  Silence.

  Terrell closed his eyes and pushed the button again. “Coleman, Martinez. Does anybody copy?”

  Still, nothing but silence.

  The Captain turned to one of the office workers who sat on the edge of Wagner’s desk, looking out the window in blank-eyed shock.

  “Hey, you, window-watcher,” Terrell said. “Can you patch me through to the transport chopper?”

  The worker jumped a bit, but then nodded to him.

  “Good, do it,” the Captain demanded, and the man turned, clicked a few buttons on his computer, and then handed a wireless headset to Terrell.

  “Go for Foster,” the Corporal’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “Foster, it’s Cap,” Terrell replied with a relieved sigh. “You guys make it out okay?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t we have?” Foster asked, sounding confused.

  “Good, good,” the Captain paused, “we… we had a breach back here.”

  “Hang tight, we’re coming back for you,” Foster immediately replied.

  “Negative,” Terrell said firmly. “There’s nothing you can do for us. Whole fucking base is overrun.”

  The Corporal took a deep breath before replying, “Coleman and Martinez?”

  “They crashed the transport and I can’t get through to them,” Terrell replied. “Don’t know if it’s the radio or what.”

  There was a moment of radio silence, and then Foster clicked back. “So what’s our orders?”

  “Get to the stadium,” the Captain said. “Tell Captain Kyle to monitor emergency channel thirteen. When we get out of here, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Ten-four, Cap,” Foster replied. “Y’all be safe.”

  “Y’all too,” Terrell said quietly, and then tossed down the headset.

  “Okay, the higher ups have been alerted to our situation,” Lynch declared as he exited the back room.

  The Captain nodded, composing his expression. “They sending a rescue team?”

  “They gave us a rally point about fifty miles south of here,” the Corporal replied. “Said if we can get there, they’ll extract us to one of the offshore ships.”

  “And if we can’t?” Terrell asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Lynch squared his shoulders. “Then they thank us for our service.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right,” the Captain muttered.

  “So, what’s the plan?” the Corporal asked.

  As if on cue, the banging grew, dead hands pounding on the small building that was the only thing keeping the group from being consumed alive.

  Terrell scrubbed his hands down his face. “At the moment, I don’t know if we have one.”

  END

  CAROLINA FRONT BOOK 3

  DEAD AMERICA: THE FIRST WEEK BOOK THREE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero, +2

  Corporal Coleman sat behind the wheel of the idling transport truck. His ears rung from the shock of it, the breach, the crash, the death all around him. Blood trickled down his face from where his forehead had struck the steering wheel when he’d crashed into the infirmary.

  There was a growl and a moan and Coleman snapped his head to the side, pressing himself against the driver’s side door at the sight of a zombified Martinez still buckled into the passenger’s seat. Blood was congealing around his lips, his eyes dead and devoid of soul.

  The Corporal swallowed hard, clenching jaw as he drew his handgun. His heart pulsed in his ears, drowning out the moans and bangs of the corpses outside of the truck behind him.

  “I’m sorry, Martinez,” he whispered, as he took aim. “I wish it could have been different.” He pulled the trigger, and his bullet tore through his partner’s right eye. Blood splattered against the passenger window, and the zombie Corporal slumped in his chair, finally at peace.

  Coleman muttered a quick prayer under his breath and drew in a deep lungful of air, letting it out slowly to compose himself.
Survival instinct kicked back in with a vengeance, and he looted his fallen friend for ammo and tested the accelerator at the same time. The truck was boned from the accident, and barely revved, let alone moved.

  He raised his radio to his lips. “Hey Cap, do you copy?”

  Terrell leapt up from his chair at the sound of Coleman’s voice coming through the radio, and grabbed his communicator, near fumbling it with hope.

  “Holy shit, Coleman, y’all okay?”

  “I am,” the Corporal replied. “Martinez turned and I had to put him down.”

  Terrell grimaced. “I’m sorry man. That had to be tough.”

  “Just doing what needs to be done, Captain,” Coleman said solemnly. “Just doing what needs to be done.”

  The Captain nodded, and then got back on track. “So what’s your status?”

  “Well, we slammed pretty hard into whatever this building is,” the Corporal replied. “The cab is inside and I’m surrounded by one, two, three… let’s just call it more zombies than I want to deal with.”

  “How about the grunts in the back?” Terrell asked, chewing his lip as he looked out the window.

  “Hold that thought,” Coleman said as he turned and banged on the hatch that led from the cab to the back portion of the transport. “Yo! You guys all right back there?” he yelled, but there was no answer. He banged again and waited a moment, for either a reply or just groans.

  He cracked open the hatch and peered in, eyes widening at the sight of the back door of the transport having been ripped clean off. Half a dozen zombies feasted on two fatigue wearing men, but they froze and shrieked when they noticed the Corporal gaping at them.

  He slammed the hatch and secured it, wincing at the thump thump of zombies smacking into the door to try to get at him.

  “They’re fucking dinner, Captain,” Coleman replied. There was a moment of silence in which he envisioned Terrell maybe punching a wall, and then a click and crackle.

  “You got any way out of there, man?”

  The Corporal looked to both sides of the cab that were crawling with zombies. He squinted out the passenger window where the roof of the infirmary was a bit caved in.

  “I just might, Captain, give me a sec,” he said, and popped the top hatch on the cab. He pushed up carefully, meeting a little resistance as debris from the roof fell aside for him. He looked around and realized that there was a crawlspace in the top of the building that he could access, and sunlight peeking through a hole in the roof. He lifted his radio again. “Pretty sure I can get to the roof.”

  “That’s fanfuckingtastic news, Coleman,” Terrell replied with relief. “If you can get up there, maybe you can give us a lay of the land. All we can tell from our vantage point is that there’s a sea of death out there.”

  The Corporal nodded. “On it, Cap.”

  He fully climbed onto the roof of the transport cab, and holstered his handgun as he got to his feet. He took his assault rifle and flipped it around, smashing the butt of us against the little hole in the roof. After a few hard strikes, more and more sunlight filtered through onto his face, eventually creating a hole big enough for him to climb through.

  He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and climbed up out of the attic, standing on the angled roof and looking around at the desolation below.

  “All right,” he croaked into his communicator, “I’m on top and it looks like your vantage point was pretty accurate. There ain’t nothing good going on here.” He walked carefully across the roof, taking it all in.

  Fort Bragg was in chaos. Blood-stained zombies in army fatigues staggered out of the barracks, clearly freshly undead. The front gate hung wide open, a flood of zombies still wandering inside to try to get in on the party. The yard was dotted with clusters of creatures feasting on the soldiers that weren’t able to make it to shelter in time.

  He turned when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a flashing light coming from a nearby building surrounded by zombies. “I might have something here,” he reported, and then walked to the other edge of the roof for a better view. He squinted and realized that it was a soldier in the window, turning a flashlight on and off rapidly. “Looks like we got one barracks that wasn’t breached,” he said, and waved.

  “Any idea how many?” Terrell asked.

  The soldier waved back as Coleman took out his own flashlight and used morse code to ask the Captain’s question. The reply came and the Corporal relayed it slowly as he translated into the radio.

  “They have thirty-five troops inside…” he said, “but are limited with their ammo situation.”

  Terrell sighed back. “Ain’t that par for the fucking course today,” he replied. “All right Coleman, hang tight.”

  “I’ll just be up here, soaking up some rays,” the Corporal replied, and lowered himself to the roof, leaning back and curling his hands behind his head.

  Terrell strode into Wagner’s office, the man still shellshocked in the corner.

  “Colonel Wagner,” the Captain said loudly, “we have some good news. One of the barracks wasn’t breached. There are thirty-five survivors.”

  The Colonel’s head snapped up, his eyes puffy and red. He swallowed hard, and got to his feet, smoothing his uniform down with trembling hands.

  “All right… I’m sorry,” he stammered, and then took a deep breath, blinking rapidly and clenching his fists. He cleared his throat. “Let’s figure out a way to get those boys to safety.”

  “I don’t have a solution yet, but I think I have a way for us to find one,” Lynch piped up from his desk, and motioned to the far counter housing a large drone.

  “I like the idea,” Wagner replied, “but how the hell are we gonna launch that thing? Don’t you need a flat surface? I doubt those creatures are going to let us waltz outside.”

  Terrell cocked his head, inspecting one of the windows. “How far away from the building do you need to be?” he asked.

  “Four, maybe five feet?” Lynch said. “I can get up enough speed on it and launch away from the building. Should limit the potential of a crash.”

  The Captain nodded. “Y’all got a folding table?”

  “Should be one in the store room,” Lynch replied with a nod, and scurried off to look.

  Terrell shoved one of the large floor desks against the wall beneath one of the windows. He climbed up and opened the sliding window from its top clip, high enough that the zombies outside couldn’t reach him. He propped it open and Lynch reentered with the table.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Terrell held out his hands. “Give it to me, and put your drone on the end of it,” he instructed, and the Corporal nodded his understanding. He handed over the table and powered up the drone before setting it gently on the end of the table. Terrell rested the plastic on his shoulder, and gently extended it out the window.

  Lynch stared up at the Captain in awe.

  “You can launch it anytime now, Corporal,” Terrell urged, and Lynch blushed when he realized he’d been gawking.

  “Sorry sir, here we go,” he replied, and turned to the monitor. He used a joystick and triggers to liftoff, and once it was clear Terrell pulled the table back in and hopped down to the floor to huddle around the monitor with Wagner.

  Lynch flew high so they could get a complete look of the base, the ground blotted completely out of view by the horde. There were two intact buildings, and Terrell raised his radio to his mouth.

  “Hey Coleman,” he said, “which building had the survivors in it?”

  “Northwest of my current position,” he replied, and they saw him wave up at the drone from his relaxed position on the infirmary roof.

  “Ten-four,” Terrell replied, and pointed to the other building on the monitor. “Move the drone over to that one.”

  Lynch complied, and the building came closer into view, about twenty feet below. He focused the camera to see several troops in the window, waving at them.

  “Do we have any way of s
ignaling them?” Terrell asked.

  The Corporal shook his head. “Negative.”

  “Well, let’s assume they have as many in there as the other barracks,” the Captain mused. “So that brings us up to what, seventy we need to evacuate?”

  “Let me see what’s at our disposal,” Lynch said, and moved the drone over to the helipad. There were a few transport trucks sitting there. “What do you think, can we fit seventy in there?”

  Terrell grinned. “Hope you boys don’t mind getting cozy with each other.”

  “That’s great and all,” Wagner piped up, “but how the hell are we getting over there?”

  “Do me a favor and point the camera down towards the ground as you bring it back this way,” the Captain instructed.

  As the Corporal moved his controls to accommodate the request, it appeared that about a third of the zombies were actively pursuing the drone.

  “What kind of range do you have on that thing?” Terrell asked.

  Lynch tilted his head back and forth. “About five hundred yards, but I only have about ten more minutes of flight time,” he replied.

  As he spoke, the zombies seemed to lose interest in the buzzing machine and wandered off in search of a living meal.

  “We’re going to need something louder if we’re going to clear the camp,” Terrell muttered.

  Lynch pursed his lips. “If we had a helicopter pilot there’s one over by the maintenance hangar.”

  “It’s no good, the guidance system is busted and won’t be in until next week,” Wagner replied. He paused at the questioning stares from his comrades and then sighed. “Granted, that may be pushed back a bit.”

  “Can it be flown without a guidance system?” Terrell asked.

  Wagner shrugged. “You’re not gonna know where you’re going.”

  “That works out, since we don’t have a destination,” the Captain replied. “Anything else wrong with it?”

  “That’s the main thing, although I can’t promise there’s going to be much gas in there,” the Colonel warned.

  “So, we won’t know where we’re going or how far we can get,” Terrell said, rolling his eyes with a ghost of a smile on his face. “But other than that, we’re good?”

 

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