Zommunist Invasion Box Set | Books 1-3

by Picott, Camille

  “What?” Dal asked.

  Lena squeezed his hand again. She’d only been a scrawny kid when Dal had been in fifth grade, but she’d been old enough to recognize he didn’t carry normal-kid bruises. He always figured her parents instructed her not to ask about them. He remembered her staring at them, but she never said a word.

  “The Second Offensive will be here within the next two weeks,” Lena said. “They’re coming by cargo boat.”

  Dal let the enormity of those words sink in. The Russians had created a virus that turned people into zombies. Then, after the nezhit rampaged around for a week or a more, they would all die out.

  Then the Second Offensive would arrive. There would be food and housing for everyone.

  America would be theirs for the taking.

  “Did they say anything about their immunity?” Dal asked.

  “No.” Lena took one last look at the Soviets in the gym. He knew she wanted to stick around longer, but all she said was, “We should go. We’ve been here long enough.”

  They slunk away from the buildings, pushing their bikes back into the apple orchard. Once they were safely in the trees, they paused to get back onto their bikes.

  As they did, a loud snap came from their left. Dal and Lena spun just as a Soviet soldier stepped out from behind a tree. His fly hung open.

  Time froze. The Soviet stared at them. Dal and Lena stared back.

  Then the Soviet moved, hand flying to his waist as he drew his dart gun.

  Dal reflexively threw Lena to the ground, shielding her with his body. Several red darts flew over the top of them as they landed painfully on top of their bikes.

  Dal barely registered the pain. He scrambled to his feet and dove for the enemy soldier, tackling him around the legs. Lena jumped up and rammed the heel of her Converse on the Russian’s forearm, pinning the dart gun in the dirt.

  Everything happened so fast. The Russian rolled, freeing his arm from Lena’s shoe. Dal attempted to hold him in place, but the other man was bigger. He kneed Dal in the stomach and shoved him aside.

  Dal’s back hit an apple tree, the breath whooshing out of his body from the impact.

  The Russian sat up, dart gun aimed at Lena.

  Dal’s entire universe stopped spinning. All he could see was Lena, the dart gun, and the Russian who intended to hurt her. Rage and fear surged inside him like a red tide.

  He grabbed his knife and charged. He buried the blade in the man’s back. The man tipped over and collapsed.

  Fury pumped through him. Lena. This asshole had tried to hurt Lena.

  The rage inside his body was like an inferno. Dal couldn’t control himself. He stabbed the man over, and over, and over again.

  Something barreled into him from the side. Lena. The force of her body rocked him sideways.

  It was enough to snap the spell. He tumbled sideways into the dirt beneath the apple trees. He lay there, panting, with Lena sprawled out on top of him.

  He forced himself to release the knife. When he raised his hand, he found it coated with blood. His eyes jerked to the Russian.

  The man was dead, his back and chest a bloody mess. Dal wanted to shred the bastard with his bare hands.

  “Dal.” Lena held his face between her hands, eyes searching.

  Their eyes mat. Dal felt sick. All the rage and fury boiling inside him drained away in an instant. All that was left was shame.

  Shame that he had inherited the worst imaginable trait from his father. Shame that Lena had seen it.

  And not just once. How many times had he lost his temper in the last twenty-four hours? This invasion was bringing out the worst in him.

  He felt sick. He extricated himself, turning his back when Lena tried to put her arms around him.

  She deserved better. Mr. Cecchino wouldn’t want a monster for his daughter.

  He wiped his bloody fist on the pant leg of his jeans. The face of the slack Russian loomed large in his periphery. Dal didn’t—couldn’t—look directly at the damage he’d done, but he saw the mash of red from the corner of his eye.

  He was a monster, no different from the nezhit. The asshole had been down as soon as Dal sank his knife into his back. There had been no need to keep stabbing him.

  There had never been a need for his father to beat him or his mom, but he did it anyway.

  “We have to go.” Lena dragged him toward the bikes. “I don’t think they heard us, but sooner or later someone is going to come looking for this guy.”

  She was right. Dal numbly climbed onto his bike, careful not to look at her.

  “Dal?”

  He pushed his feet against the pedals, racing away through the dark.

  35

  Bastopol High

  Bastopol High.

  Leo and his team pedaled silently toward the school. The cream stucco walls rose up before them. Nearby were the bleachers and football field.

  Leo inhaled the familiar scent of the turf. It filled his nostrils, but mixed with it was the tang of death. There were bodies everywhere, both dead and undead. He could almost imagine the zombies scuttling around on the field were football players, not murdered teenagers. Almost.

  It had been a bloodbath here.

  The lost days of his youth came rushing back to him. Leo could almost reach out and touch the boy he had been. Eighteen years old and madly in love with the captain of the cheerleading squad. Eighteen years old and on top of the world with a football scholarship and a bright future. Eighteen years old with a mom still alive.

  It was like looking at a stranger. The world had sculpted him into a new man.

  For the first time, Leo was able to look at the lost version of himself without bitterness. They had been good days. He didn’t regret having lived them. Not for a second.

  “I’ve been wondering about something.” Anton rode up beside him. “What were you doing there? At the field, I mean. When the Russians attacked. Practice wasn’t over. You weren’t due to arrive for at least another hour.”

  “I like watching you play.” Leo briefly met his brother’s gaze. “Sometimes I came early to watch.”

  “But I never saw you.”

  “I know. I watched from underneath the bleachers.”

  Anton’s eyes widened in surprise. Leo pedaled faster, pulling ahead. He didn’t mind confessing to Anton, but that didn’t mean he wanted to draw out the moment.

  He stopped when they were fifty yards from the school. He waited for the others to catch up with him.

  “You all know the plan,” Leo said. “Anton and Bruce attack from the bleachers. Jim and Tate from the cafeteria. Jennifer and I have the theater building. At two-oh-five, start throwing bombs. At two-ten, get the hell out of here. We rendezvous at the Goldschmidt apple orchard.”

  He paused, remembering the times he’d spent in the Goldschmidt orchard. It had been a popular party spot back in high school. The owner lived in Colorado and only visited occasionally, leaving the land open for high school adventure and mischief.

  Leo had his first taste of alcohol beneath those trees, courtesy of Jim. It was the first place he’d kissed Jennifer.

  He glanced in her direction and found her looking at him. From the soft smile on her lips, he knew she was remembering their times in the orchard. They had been good times.

  “We wait in the orchard until two-forty. Then we ride back to the cabin. If someone doesn’t show …” He couldn’t finish the sentence. “We clear out and ride back to the cabin at two-forty. Dal and Lena will meet us at home. Everyone ready?” He scanned the faces of his companions, fixing their faces in his mind.

  Jennifer was the first to move. “Let’s go.”

  They left their bikes outside the school and dispersed, breaking into their separate teams.

  Jennifer fell into step beside Leo. “How far we’ve come, Leo Cecchino,” she said. “Former high school homecoming king and queen turned guerrilla soldiers.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Sounds like a bad movie whe
n you say it like that.”

  “It is a bad movie, don’t you think?”

  He tightened his grip on his rifle. “Yeah. Pretty fucking bad.”

  His boot touched the blacktop of Bastopol High. The back of the science wing was in front of them. There were two dead bodies on the ground, both of them lying in pools of sticky blood.

  Leo forced himself to look at the bodies. He didn’t recognize them, but no doubt Anton would know who they were.

  Tonight was all about saving people. If they were successful, they could stop more senseless slaughter like this.

  They crept to the edge of the science building. Beyond it was a big quad surrounded on all sides by classrooms. On the far side of the quad was the high school auditorium. That was their destination.

  In the quad were at least a dozen bodies. There was also a pack of four nezhit. They huddled near the English wing around a dark lump. Dal couldn’t be certain, but it looked like they were eating a dog. At least, he hoped it was a dog and not a person.

  “Do we take them out?” Jennifer whispered.

  “No. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves if we can help it. Let’s try to sneak by them.”

  “Okay.” Without waiting for him, Jennifer stepped out into the open.

  That was Jennifer. She’d always been a girl of action.

  They eased across the quad. Jennifer moved with the grace of a gymnast, walking on her tip toes. Leo might not be as graceful as she was, but he could be light-footed when he wanted to.

  They stepped around a dead girl in neon stretch pants and black blouse with shoulder pads. Blood pooled around her head like a halo. It was sickening to see. Leo supposed he should be grateful she was really dead and not reanimated like the student Dal and Lena had seen in Rossi.

  Across the quad, one of the zombies let up a loud yipping sound. She jumped on the nezhit next to her, the two of them squabbling over what looked like an animal leg.

  It was enough to make a person gag, but it kept the attention off Leo and Jennifer. They reached the auditorium without incident and stepped around the side of the building.

  “There is it,” Jennifer whispered. “Our old friend.”

  She was referring to the fire access ladder bolted to the side of the wall. The bottom rung was a good ten feet off the ground.

  That had never deterred Leo and Jennifer. If anything, that ten feet had been a challenge.

  Side by side, they crossed to the metal garbage can that sat nearby. It was riddled with bullet holes. They each grabbed a side and hefted the can off the ground, moving it beneath the fire access ladder.

  “Just like old times,” Leo said.

  “Just like old times,” Jennifer agreed.

  “You go first.”

  Jennifer looked like she wanted to argue. She always did that whenever she thought her female independence was being threatened. Luckily, all she did was give Leo an eye roll before hopping onto the garbage can.

  As soon as her feet landed, balancing on either side of the can, something unexpected happened. The trashcan gave a loud, metallic groan and tilted to the right.

  Too late, Leo realized one side had been weakened from the bullet holes. The metal bent under Jennifer’s weight. Not a lot, but just enough to make noise.

  The reaction of the nezhit was instantaneous. Howls went up from all over campus.

  “Go!” Leo yelled.

  Jennifer gave him a wide-eyed look before leaping. Her hands grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder. She pulled herself up easily, scrambling to make room for him.

  “Leo!” she cried.

  The four zombies from the quad came tearing around the corner of the auditorium. Their black-veined skin and red eyes filled his vision. Leo leaped onto the top of the can.

  “Jump, Leo!” Jennifer screamed.

  Leo jumped. He had at least fifty pounds on Jennifer, if not more. The can listed loudly, further crumpling under his weight.

  Leo’s right hand completely missed the ladder. The fingers of his left hand snagging the bottom rung.

  The foremost of the nezhit barreled into the trashcan, sending it flying across the blacktop. It banged against the ground as it rolled, inciting another round of howls and barks from campus.

  Leo dangled from one hand, feet kicking as he fought to avoid the hands of the nezhit. His hand was sweaty, his grip on the ladder precarious. The zombies jumped up and down, swiping at him with dirty, bloody fingers.

  “Give me your other hand!” Jennifer hung upside down, her legs folded over a ladder wrung like it was a gymnastics bar. Both her arms swung free, reaching for Leo.

  Leo pulled with everything he had, thankful for every moment in the orchard spent hefting fifty-pound apple packs. He lifted himself just far enough to grab Jennifer’s outstretched hands. She dug her nails into his skin and pulled at him with both hands.

  A zombie snagged one shoelace. For one terrifying moment, Leo thought he was a gonner. Then the lace came untied. The zombie fell back to the ground with a frustrated snarl.

  With Jennifer’s help, Leo was able to grab the ladder with his right hand. He scrambled out of reach, heart pounding as his boots finally found purchase on the bottom ladder rung.

  Jennifer refused to let go, twining her hands into the flannel of his shirt. She still hung upside down. Her hair was in a bun, but a few curls sprang loose around her face.

  “Don’t you ever, ever scare me like that again,” she snapped. She released him, lifting her torso into an upright position as she scaled nimbly up the ladder.

  Leo let out a shaky breath, looking down one more time at the snapping nezhit. They were working themselves into a frenzy. Even worse, more had joined them. The pack had expanded to seven, with several more on their way.

  Leo focused on the ladder, hurrying after Jennifer to the rooftop.

  36

  Choices

  “Only ten zombies over here.” Jennifer was on the west side of the roof, assessing the number of nezhit on the ground below the ladder. “It’s ironic, don’t you think?”

  “Ten zombies are ironic?” Leo stood on the north side, scanning the school with his binoculars. Anton and Bruce were already on the bleachers. Jim and Tate had just taken up their position on the cafeteria.

  “No. It’s ironic you’re hell bent on protecting me, but I’m the one who keeps saving your ass.”

  He lowered the binoculars and frowned at her. “Thank you for pulling me up the ladder. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “You’re welcome.” She gave him a winning smile before moving off to study the infected on the south side of the building.

  Leo rolled his eyes and resumed studying the campus. Apparently, his motives had been completely transparent. Jennifer had never been one for chivalry.

  Oh, well. Screw it. He wasn’t going to change or apologize just because he annoyed his ex-girlfriend. Someday, he’d meet a girl who didn’t confuse chivalry with chauvinism.

  Leo scanned the narrow street between the classrooms and the football field. Just a few days ago, he’d parked his truck on this very street before going to watch Anton at practice.

  There were dead bodies everywhere, some rotting wherever they’d fallen; others had turned into nezhit. Many of both variety were in football uniforms. God. This place had been a slaughterhouse.

  “How much longer?” Jennifer asked.

  “Eighteen minutes.”

  She let out an impatient huff, prowling back and forth across the rooftop. “I hate waiting.” She peered over the edge again, this time on the street side. “There’s twelve of them down there. I should be looking forward to dropping bombs on them, but … well, you know.”

  Leo did know. It didn’t feel good to kill people—teenagers—who had been part of their community. He reminded himself they weren’t really killing them; the Russians had done that the moment they infected them with the nezhit virus.

  “I’m just glad we’re not students here anymore,” Jenni
fer said. “At least I can’t put names to the ones down there.”

  That wouldn’t be the case for Anton and Bruce. What would it be like for them? Would it put them in danger? Not that he doubted Anton. His little brother would do what needed to be done.

  “Will you please say something?” Jennifer rounded on him, hands on her hips. “The silence is killing me.”

  “What was his name?” The words popped out before Leo could stop them.

  She stared at him. To give her credit, she didn’t play dumb. She knew exactly what he was asking.

  For his part, Leo had done his best to sideline the information that Jennifer had fallen in love with another guy. But now that he found himself faced with waiting, the knowledge kept surfacing. It was like being poked in the side repeatedly with a sharp stick. It might not pierce the skin, but it was still irritating.

  “His name was Brad,” Jennifer said at last.

  “How did you meet him?”

  “At a party.”

  “What was he like?”

  Jennifer looked away and resumed her pacing. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  Leo wasn’t sure at all. “Yeah.”

  “He was a lot like you. Serious. Nice. Committed.”

  Leo could not have been more shocked if she’d said the guy—Brad—was an alien. “He was like me?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “Guess I attract a certain type of guy.”

  “But you said he broke your heart.” Leo couldn’t imagine himself ever having done that.

  “He did. But I broke his first.” Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest and looked out in the night.

  This wasn’t making any sense. Leo chewed on the information, trying to decide if he wanted to know more.

  Morbid curiosity got the better of him. “So you broke his heart, then he broke yours?”

  “Yep.”

  “So what, you dumped him and then tried to get back together with him?”

  She didn’t answer. She stopped pacing and studied the nezhit massed on the ground beneath the ladder.

  Seconds ticked by. Leo began to wonder if she’d heard him. It would probably be better if he dropped the subject entirely. It wasn’t his business anyway. It—