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

by Derek Slaton

  “Yeah, I know,” Kersey replied, anger and helplessness overtaking him at the feeling of losing Berry.

  Bill sighed. “So how many troops...” He paused, noting blood on his knuckles where he’d punched Edwards, and his brow furrowed.

  “Did you cut yourself?” the Sergeant wondered.

  Bill shook his head. “I didn’t hit him that hard…”

  Kersey drew his bottom lip between his teeth in confusion for a moment, and then a lightbulb went off in his head. The new shirt, the excessive sweating, the way Edwards had seemed in so much pain from a simple gut punch… before he could vocalize his thoughts, gunshots cracked through the air outside.

  The Sergeant barreled out the door, the other barflies hot on his heels, and saw his men pinned down behind vehicles on the far side of the road. There was a cluster of locals in the middle of the street, firing at them, with Edwards on the ground as a hostage.

  Kowalski aimed over the hood of a sedan, but Kersey bellowed, “Stand down!” and his men froze. The ringleader of the locals whipped around to face him, and it was the woman who had spit in his face.

  “Y’all killed my son!” she screamed. “Y’all are gonna pay!”

  Kersey put his hands up in surrender. “Ma’am, please, that man-”

  She simply shrieked and fired in his direction. He grabbed Bill around the waist and flung them both back into the door of the bar. Men scattered left and right, diving behind cars.

  “Can you negotiate with them?” Kersey asked Bill as they sat up from the scuffed wood floor.

  Bill sighed. “This isn’t how I wanted to spend my fuckin’ afternoon,” he muttered, but got to his feet and brushed off his pants. He emerged into the doorway, hands held up in front of him. “Miz Decker, this isn’t the way to solve this, come on,” he called, and she wavered when she looked at him.

  “Bill,” she said, voice coming out in a strangled sob, her gun shaking. “They killed my son, my boy.”

  “I know, and we all miss Charlie,” Bill replied, taking a step forward. “But this ain’t the way to bring him back. And that soldier, he’s-”

  As if on cue, a reanimated Edwards leapt up and snarled, latching on to one of the men’s necks. Ms. Decker fired in Bill’s direction, causing him to leap to the right, and the group tore Edwards from his prey and shoved him towards the bar, continuing to fire at the soldiers across the street.

  The zombie dove towards Bill, who kicked up with his boot to try to keep the snapping jaw away from him, and Kersey flew out of the front door of the bar, barreling into his reanimated comrade. He grunted as he held the zombie by the throat, and Bill rolled towards them, pulling his own handgun to blow Edwards’ brains all over the sidewalk.

  Kersey rose up onto his knees as their attackers disappeared around a corner down the street, having been shooting all the while to keep everyone else pinned down. As soon as they were gone, Bretz and Kowalski led the charge across the street.

  “Sarge!” Bretz cried, question in his wide eyes.

  Kersey nodded as he got to his feet. “I’m fine,” he said.

  “How did Edwards…” Kowalski trailed off, gazing down in horror at his dead teammate.

  “He must have gotten bit when he picked up the oil truck,” the Sergeant said, and then held his hand out to Bill to help him to his feet. “Thank you.”

  “Thanks right back, I s’pose,” Bill replied sheepishly.

  Kersey turned to his team. “We need to find those people,” he said firmly. “Otherwise it’ll be an outbreak in this town.”

  “Why can’t you just call it in?” Bill’s brow furrowed.

  “Because if we call it in,” Kersey replied with a shake of his head, “the standing orders are to firebomb the whole town to make sure no infected escape.”

  Bill’s face paled. “Okay, let’s go find the Deckers.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kersey led the group through town, following a trail of blood down the alley the Decker family had disappeared into. As they came around a corner, there was a groan as a civilian reanimated from a pool of crimson on the asphalt.

  Kersey quickly dispatched it with a bullet to the head, just as screams erupted from the two-story building in front of them. The team approached the front door, but a hail of bullets peppered it, causing them all to duck as windows exploded out into the street.

  The Sergeant peeked up over one of the windowsills to see a small restaurant, the patrons on the floor with their hands over their heads. Two of the Decker boys struggled to keep their zombified family member at bay, while Ms. Decker waved her gun around wildly, shrieking at the restaurant-goers to stay down.

  “Nobody’s touchin’ my boy!” she screamed, eyes aflame. “Nobody’s touchin’ any of my boys ever again!”

  “Crazy bitch,” Bretz muttered and shook his head as Kersey ducked back down.

  “Mason, Baker, get up to the second floor, see if you can find a way in,” the Sergeant instructed. “Bill, I’m going to need you to go in and distract them, try to talk them down.”

  Bill sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “Here’s hopin’ they’re less likely to shoot my balls off as opposed to yours,” he replied.

  Mason and Baker skirted the building, finding a back staircase to one of the upper apartments. The door was unlocked, and Baker gave Kowalski a thumbs-up before the sniper turned and motioned to Bill and Kersey.

  “Here goes,” Bill said, taking a deep breath as he approached the front door to the restaurant. “I’m comin’ in, Miz Decker, don’t shoot me!” he announced, and pushed the now-decrepit door in.

  “Whaddya want, Bill?!” she shrieked. “You brown-nosing sonuvabitch! I saw you cozying up with them military fuckers!”

  “I’m not cozying up or brown-nosing, Miz Decker,” he replied quickly. “But we’re gonna have to co-operate with them in the long run. If you don’t turn Leroy over, then they’re gonna firebomb the whole town.”

  “They’re the reason this happened in the first place!” she cried, tears streaming down her red face in angry rivulets. “They’re they ones with the infected people! They should be fuckin’ firebombed! They killed my boy and I ain’t lettin’ ‘em have another!”

  “I know, Miz Decker, it was their soldier that bit Leroy,” Bill said gently. “The soldier became a zombie and he attacked me, and his own men had to put him down. Because he wasn’t himself anymore, you understand? Once you’re dead you’re dead. Charlie’s dead. Leroy’s dead.”

  “NO!” she screamed, and pointed her gun at him. Baker and Mason burst from the back kitchen, firing on the family. One bullet took Mama Decker, and one took out one of the brothers holding Leroy. He immediately turned and took a chunk out of his living brother, and then turned to scream at Bill.

  He drew his gun and fired on instinct, taking out Leroy and his brother in four shots.

  Everyone was frozen, waiting for somebody to move or fire or attack, but the dust settled and the Decker family was completely down. Kersey, Bretz and Kowalski burst in, sweeping the area. The customers clustered off to the side watched fearfully as the soldiers checked the building.

  Kowalski noticed one of the customers cradling a bleeding arm, and he clenched his jaw. “Sarge.”

  Kersey approached, and looked down at the shaking man with empathy in his eyes. “Did you get bitten, sir?” he asked gently.

  The man nodded jerkily, and the woman clutching his other arm let out a deep wail of sorrow. “Please,” she sobbed.

  “I’m sorry, truly I am,” Kersey said softly, and fell into a squat in front of the couple. “But there’s no cure. And it’s a terrible way to die. We’ve got to take care of you, or the whole town is in danger.”

  The man nodded, pulling the woman against him. She buried her head into his neck, murmuring incoherent things into his skin.

  “It’s okay,” he said shakily, “it’s okay. I’m not going to get better. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Dad…” a
young girl cried from behind him, and he pulled her against him as well.

  “Will you…” He swallowed hard and looked up at Kersey. “Will you take me out of town? So they don’t have to see?”

  The Sergeant nodded and stood, turning to his team so that the man could say his goodbyes.

  “Okay,” he said, as the soldiers grouped around him with Bill in tow. “We need to get Bill to La Crosse. Once we get back to the vehicles I’ll radio General Stephens and let him know what’s going on.”

  Bill’s gaze softened as the bitten man approached the group. “How you holdin’ up, Tim?”

  “Let’s just go,” Tim replied hoarsely, and Kersey nodded, leading the group from the restaurant that was now splattered in a bloodbath.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kowalski drove the lead SUV, with Kersey in the passenger seat. Mason and Tim were somber in the backseat, both staring out their own windows. Bretz followed behind, with Bill, Baker, and Johnson in tow.

  “This is Sergeant Kersey for General Stephens,” Kersey said into the satellite phone, and a woman on the other end confirmed his connection.

  There was a click, and then Stephens asked, “John, how did it go?”

  “We found Bill,” Kersey replied tersely, taking a deep breath.

  “That’s great news,” the General said, “are you heading for Topeka now?”

  “Negative,” the Sergeant replied. “Bill suggested North Platte, because it’s the biggest rail yard in the country and it has a lower population than Topeka. He’s already proven to be extremely helpful.”

  Stephens paused. “Okay, that’s good foresight. Is there something else, John?”

  Kersey rubbed the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “We lost Edwards.” He slammed his fist down on his thigh. “He’d gotten bit, back on our last mission, and didn’t tell anyone. He turned and caused a lot of trouble.”

  “I see,” Stephens replied carefully. “I’m sorry you lost your teammate, Sergeant, but forgive me for asking, how bad was this trouble?”

  “It’s contained,” Kersey assured him. “We left no infected in La Crosse.”

  “Good,” the General replied, though his tone wasn’t unkind. “You’ve done us a great service today, Sergeant.”

  “Don’t say that until we’re all safely on the train,” Kersey countered.

  Stephens chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor there. “Ten-four, Sergeant. We’ll get ready to move.”

  “Ten-four.” Kersey ended the call and pocketed the phone, resting his head against his seat and closing his eyes.

  “There,” Tim said suddenly, and his traveling companions perked up. “Over there,” he said, and they looked to where he was motioning, a beautiful big tree in the middle of a farm field.

  “You heard the man,” Kersey said quietly, and Kowalski turned down the dirt farm entrance. They parked about twenty yards away from the tree, and everyone got out of their vehicles.

  Bill looked at Kersey and stepped up next to Tim, and the Sergeant nodded his acceptance of the unspoken question. The duo wandered towards the tree, Kersey following at a respectable distance with his gun drawn just in case of any trouble.

  “I’m sorry, bud,” Bill said.

  Tim shook his head. “It’s not so bad. At least this way I know I won’t become one of those creatures. The last thing I would want is to hurt my family and friends, all because I was selfish.”

  Bill swallowed hard, admiring the man’s bravery. Tim sank to his knees, in front of the tree, and began to pray. His executioner pursed his lips and cocked his gun, standing behind him, hand shaking as he pointed it at the back of Tim’s head.

  The man whispered a tearful, “Amen.”

  And then Bill pulled the trigger.

  His shoulders slumped with the body of the man who’d sacrificed himself for La Crosse, the town that Bill himself had grown up in. It maybe wasn’t the best place to live, what with the shitty attitudes most of the residents had, but it was home. And Tim had given his life to save it. Bill didn’t know if he would have done the same thing in that position.

  The least he could do now was help these men finish their mission.

  Kersey waited for him to approach, and they slowly walked back to the SUVs in silence. The soldiers waited in a semicircle, hands folded in front of them, all wearing somber expressions of respect.

  “He was a good man,” Bill said. “A better man than me. And that’s all I want to say about it.” There were murmurs and nods all around.

  “Before we move out,” Kersey said, clearing his throat. “I want to make something abundantly fucking clear.” He lifted his chin, eyes hard as diamonds. “As much as I am mourning Edwards, what he did was unacceptable. If any of y’all are bit, you fucking tell me. You don’t put us, the mission, and everyone around you in danger. That is an order, no fucking exceptions. Do you understand me?”

  There was a series of firm YES SIRs, and Kersey turned to Bill, who was scratching the back of his head.

  “That goes for you too,” the Sergeant said, though gentler. “Except you’re just not allowed to get bit. We need you to do your job. Let us do ours and protect you.”

  “Yes sir,” he replied, giving a sloppy salute, and it seemed to diffuse the tension, a ripple of chuckles running through the group.

  “I’m driving,” Kersey said to Kowalski, clapping him on the back, and the Private nodded.

  “I kinda feel bad,” Bill said as he climbed up into the seat that Tim had vacated. “The last thing I said to Edwards before he died was to tell him I fucked his sister and that he was inbred.”

  Both Mason and Kowalski bit back snickers, and Kersey just smiled, shaking his head as he took the driver’s seat.

  “He fought for this country,” the Sergeant mused, “but he could really be a dick sometimes.”

  Kowalski couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that. “Amen.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The SUVs stopped at a gas station and rest stop just south of North Platte. After a quick sweep of the area, Kersey suggested they grab some refreshments and loosen up their limbs for the likely trouble ahead. He grabbed a map of the area from the mostly looted convenient store and spread it out on a picnic table off to the side of the pump area.

  “This is the rail yard,” Bill pointed to the Northwest end of town.

  Johnson whistled low at the size of it. “You weren’t kiddin’ about it being the biggest.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” Bill replied.

  “There are only two bridges going into town over the South Platte River,” Kersey continued, pointing to the two. “One is the highway 83, the other is Buffalo Bill road.”

  “If we take Buffalo Bill road, we can stick to the outskirts of town and follow the outermost roads around to the rail yard,” Johnson pointed out through a mouthful of chips.

  Kersey dodged flying crumbs and nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “But there’s a superstore on the 83,” Bretz cut in as he unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water. “Shouldn’t we try to find some supplies to bring with us?”

  “There are lot of small towns along the way that would be much safer for that,” Bill said quietly, and the Sergeant nodded.

  “Bill’s right, we can’t risk stopping for supplies here,” he said. “Plus, we don’t really have all that much room. Two SUVs packed to the tits with guns, it’s not like filling the little bit of extra space will make a big dent in supply stock. Better to stop in a town where we can load directly onto the train.”

  “So what are we looking for, train-wise?” Kowalski asked.

  Kersey shrugged. “That, unfortunately is going to be a know-it-when-we-see-it kind of affair. Bill is the expert, but I do know we’ll need an engine car to haul what we need. Off the top of my head I’d think three, maybe four boxcars should get the job done. Our mission is to clear the path for the others to follow, so we’ll let them worry about the logistics of finding enough boxcars.”

/>   “Sounds about right” Bill replied, shaking his head. “That will make it a lot easier on the fuel, and make us a lot more nimble. It’s a lot easier to stop three cars than three hundred.”

  Kersey nodded in agreement. “Okay, looks like we have a game plan,” he said with a upbeat attitude. “So when we get to the rail yard, we’re going to let Bill lead us to where he needs to be. We’re operating under his orders for what he needs us to do to assist in putting a working train together. First and foremost, though, is his safety as he does so. We form an effective perimeter of him at all times. Understood?”

  There were yessirs all around, and then Baker leaned over, motioning to their route across the bridge.

  “What’s over here, anyway?” he asked. “What can we expect in the way of population density?”

  “Suburbs,” Bill replied.

  “Hopefully deserted suburbs,” Mason put in, shaking his head as he tore into a bag of pork rinds. He turned to Johnson. “Hey, you know, we never settled who killed the most zombies last mission,” he said.

  Johnson smirked. “I took down a lot of them fuckers,” he declared proudly.

  “Kowalski was the only one shooting the entire time, though,” Mason replied with a glint in his eye.

  The sniper nonchalantly breathed on his nails and shined them on his shirt, assuming a victory pose.

  “I think y’all are forgetting whose idea it was to lure almost two thousand zombies into the lake of oil,” Kersey put in. They all nodded, and Mason pulled a flask from his pocket.

  Johnson gaped. “I thought you didn’t carry booze on ya?”

  “I traded for it when we got back to base,” Mason replied with a shrug. “Seemed like the kind of thing we should just have on us. In case we ever need a drink… or to set a fire.”

  There were chuckles all around and the men produced their flasks, toasting to Edwards for a job well done.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “So I gotta ask,” Mason turned to Bill as they drove parallel to the river to reach Buffalo Bill Avenue. “They said you got let go just before the outbreak. What was it that you did?”