Zommunist Invasion Box Set | Books 1-3

by Picott, Camille

  “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a gunslinger,” Amanda said. “I’m a science geek.”

  “Good. Then you can help Nonna make explosives when we get back to the cabin,” Lena said. “In the meantime, you can learn how to keep yourself alive. Come on.”

  Cassie pushed her shoulders back and marched resolutely after Lena. Amanda followed at a slower pace.

  Back in the truck, she heard Stephenson say, “I should have brought a stop watch. We need to keep the transmission under sixty seconds to make sure we aren’t tracked.”

  “Just use my Timex,” Dal replied, handing Stephenson the watch from his wrist. This was a bit like handing an Olympic runner a cheap pair of shoes from the thrift store, but Cassie kept this comment to herself.

  Lena took Amanda and Cassie a hundred yards down the north slope. “This is a good spot to practice,” she said. “Now, put the straps over your shoulder. That way you don’t risk losing your gun if you drop it.”

  “Like this?” Amanda asked. “Like it’s a purse?”

  “Pretty much,” Lena said. “Now, rest the butt against your hip. That will help you balance against the recoil.”

  Cassie pursed her lips in concentration as she followed Lena’s instructions. She felt like an imposter the entire time.

  She really wanted to impress Leo, but who was she kidding? Chess nerds didn’t shoot Soviet machine guns. Amanda was right. They should be doing laundry—

  Machine gun fire ripped through her ears. Bullets sprayed through the air. Several of them thudded into a large boulder fifty feet downhill.

  “Woah.” Amanda rocked back on her heels, cheeks flushed. “Did you see that?”

  “Nice.” Lena grinned at her. “Adjust your right leg back. That will give you better balance and keep your aim steady. Good, now try again.”

  Cassie watched in astonishment as Amanda opened fire a second time. This time, she took aim at an oak tree. She squealed in excitement when two of her bullets actually hit the trunk.

  “That’s it!” Lena turned to Cassie. “Your turn.”

  “Just imagine you’re shooting Soviets,” Amanda said. “It’s a lot easier that way.”

  Cassie decided to imagine she was a rook on the chessboard. Rooks always traveled in straight lines. God knew she needed all the help she could get to keep her bullets straight. She took aim at the oak tree, imaging herself as a black rook aiming for the white king.

  “Safety off,” Lena said.

  Cassie pulled the trigger. The recoil nearly threw her on her ass. Bullets rippled through the leaves of the tree, but missed the trunk altogether.

  “Adjust your stance like this.” Lena adjusted Cassie’s right leg back and pressed the butt of the gun into her hip. “There, try again. You too, Amanda.”

  Under Lena’s guidance, the two girls continued to practice. Cassie felt a thrill of exhilaration when her first bullet hit the tree.

  “I did it!” she cried.

  “Nice. Now do it again,” Lena said.

  An image of Leo’s face floated in her mind. Cassie imagined him watching her as she fired. Her next shots went right into the tree. She shifted and aimed at the boulder. Amanda let up a whoop as Cassie’s bullets thudded into the stone.

  “Awesome,” Amanda cried.

  “I knew you guys were good for more than laundry,” Lena said drily. “Try again. The more you practice, the better you’ll get.”

  The girls spent a few more minutes practicing before Dal’s tall figure appeared on the hilltop above them. “We’re ready to make the broadcast.”

  “Okay.” Lena turned to Cassie and Amanda. “Come on. We need to keep watch. Put your safeties back on so you don’t accidentally shoot anyone.”

  13

  Decoy

  Cassie was assigned to the southwest side of the hilltop. She reminded herself she wasn’t a badass like Lena just because she’d fired a machine gun half a dozen times. But maybe, just maybe, she was on her way there.

  She scanned the land. Out here, there was no sign of civilization. No sign of the Russian invasion and the zombie apocalypse, either. The few cows dotting the land were downright cute. She could almost imagine life was normal, if not for the Soviet machine gun in her hands.

  Nope, life was definitely not normal.

  Dal’s voice carried in the wind behind her. “This is Deejay Sniper, coming to you live from the Soviet invasion in West County, California.” Stephenson crouched beside Dal, the Timex gripped in both hands.

  “We have two important pieces of information to relay to everyone out there,” Dal said. “First off, you all need to know the Russians have been rounding up people with the purpose to infect them with the nezhit virus …”

  Dal had a nice radio voice. It was smooth and deep and even. It was a sharp juxtaposition to the hard facts that fell from his mouth.

  Cassie kept her attention on the land. Two hills away, she spotted a small cow crest the rise. Unlike the other animals out there, who all grazed lazily without a care in the world, this one was running.

  What the heck? She squinted, watching as the cow galloped in their direction. The thing ate up the distance like a puma. Some of the other cows lifted curious heads to watch the newcomer.

  The animal moved on all fours, but now that she was really looking at it, she realized it wasn’t a cow. It was too small. It was wiry and all-black with a misshapen hump on its back. What the hell was it? A big sheep dog?

  Her heart seized in her chest. Holy shit. That wasn’t a dog. “Guys?” She raised her machine gun, hands trembling as the full impact of the situation took hold of her. God, she was such an idiot. “There’s a mutant zombie coming this way.” Realizing she sounded like a mouse, she summoned her voice. “Guys! Mutant!”

  “What?” Stephenson shrieked. He dropped the Timex and gripped his head in terror.

  “Help me!” Cassie cried. She locked her gaze on the galloping zombie. It was less than a hundred yards away. She opened fire.

  Bullets peppered the air. She had no idea if they landed anywhere near the mutant. She aimed as best she could.

  The zombie ducked down behind a boulder. Shit.

  “Guys, help—” She spun around but forgot to take her finger off the trigger. Bullets ripped up the back bumper of the truck.

  Stephenson screamed and went down. “I’ve been shot,” he shrieked.

  Dal leaped out of the truck. With a machine gun gripped in one hand and his dark hair hanging around his face, he pretty much looked like Rambo. “Cassie, look out!”

  Cassie spun back around just in time to see the mutant hurl a rock through the air. No, not just a rock. It was a stone roughly the size of a human head. And it was coming right toward her.

  She leaped out of the way just as Dal opened fire. The rock smashed into the ground right where she’d been standing. Dal’s bullets thudded into the giant boulder where the mutant hid. More giant rocks sailed in their direction. One of them smacked into the side of the truck.

  No way should anything be able to throw rocks that big, let alone so far.

  “Take cover,” Dal yelled.

  Cassie was sweaty with terror, but she held her ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amanda helping Stephenson out of the truck. His foot was bleeding. The two of them scuttled under the truck with the antenna, keeping it out of harm’s way.

  “Cassie,” Lena cried. She and Dal had taken cover behind the back of the truck as more more boulders rained down.

  Cassie saw everything in a blink. They were in deep shit. There were several reasons for this.

  a) The was a ton of rocks out there. The mutant pretty much had an endless supply of ammunition.

  b) The mutant was intelligent. Not only was he using a big boulder for cover, he had figured out how to weaponize rocks.

  c) He could destroy their truck with enough of those rocks. If that happened, the portable broadcasting system they’d worked so hard to create would be stranded. They would be stranded
out here.

  The answer was simple. She saw it all in a flash, like she did in a chess game. Someone had to draw the mutant into the open so Lena and Dal could shoot him. It was the only way to protect the truck.

  Cassie knew what she had to do, even though it scared the living crap out of her.

  She didn’t give herself time to think about it. “Lena, Dal,” she shouted, “cover me!”

  She sprinted down the hill, screaming at the top of her lungs. She raced straight toward the boulder, hoping her approach would draw out the mutant.

  Her plan worked. The mutant’s head popped up from behind the boulder. As soon as he saw her, he sprang out of hiding.

  He sailed right over the boulder and hit the ground running—coming straight for Cassie. She prayed Dal and Lena were damn good shots. Cassie dropped to the ground, covering her head with her hands.

  Bullets ripped by on either side of her. Cassie couldn’t stop screaming. She braced herself for impact—whether from the mutant or stray bullets, she wasn’t sure.

  Silence. Her ears buzzed with the aftershock of the gunfire. Cassie dared raise her head.

  The mutant, no more than ten feet away from her, was dead. Dark blood poured out of his body, sinking into the earth. He looked like he’d been shot more than a dozen times.

  Was it really dead? Cassie crept toward it, gripped her machine gun. When she was five feet away, she pulled the trigger. Bullets tore into the body, sending droplets of blood flying upward.

  Panting, she lowered the gun.

  “Cassie?”

  She jumped. Lena and Dal were beside her.

  “Are you nuts?” Lena grabbed her in a brief hug. “What the hell was that?”

  “Someone had to draw him out.” Cassie’s voice shook. “Otherwise he would have ruined our radio station. It was the only way.”

  “Don’t do that again, okay?” Dal patted her on the back. “You scared the shit out of us.”

  Cassie just nodded. She couldn’t take her eyes off the mutant corpse. The muscles of his legs had grown so large that most of his pants had ripped away. Skin criss-crossed with poisoned veins was exposed. The same had happened with his arms and torso. Unlike the other mutant they’d seen, this one’s muscles had expanded evenly. The distended hump on his back was huge.

  “He looks like a zombified Incredible Hulk,” Lena said.

  “What—what’s it doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” Cassie asked.

  “I think that might be Mr. Peterson,” Dal said. “These are his cattle. I recognize his belt buckle.”

  It was one of the few articles of clothing still intact, though it was covered with so much blood that Cassie wasn’t sure how Dal could see well enough to recognize it.

  “I guess—I guess we can officially say mutant zombies are not a fluke,” she said. “They’re smarter than regular zombies. This one had an attack plan.”

  Lena and Dal gave her tight looks.

  A long wail from Stephenson carried down the slope. “I’ve been shot!”

  Cassie jerked around. Crap. She’d forgotten about Stephenson. She raced back up the hillside with Dal and Lena.

  They found him rolling on the ground beside the truck. His foot was a bloody mess. Amanda was trying to get his shoe off.

  Cassie’s lungs stopped working. She’d shot her friend.

  “We need to get him back to Nonna,” Dal said.

  Stephenson’s shouting abruptly cut off. His body went limp on the ground.

  “I think he fainted,” Amanda said.

  “Oh, God,” Cassie whispered. She couldn’t stop staring at Stephenson’s bloody foot. She had done that. Would he still be able to walk?

  “It was an accident,” Lena said. “Come on, we have to get him back to Nonna.”

  They lifted Stephenson’s bony form into the back of the truck. Cassie cradled his head on her lap while Amanda wrestled the shoe and sock off his wounded foot.

  “It doesn’t look too bad,” she said, heedless of the blood that got on her clothes and hands. She’d never been squeamish in biology when they had to dissect frogs, either. “I think your bullet hit his little toe.”

  “Use his other sock to stanch the bleeding as best you can,” Dal said. He threw the truck in reverse and turned it around. Seconds later, they were driving back to the cabin.

  Amanda wrapped Stephenson’s wounded foot with his good sock. When she was done, she leaned back against the back of the cab.

  “He’ll be okay,” she told Cassie. “You know him. He just doesn’t take pain well.”

  “I shot our friend.” Cassie still struggled to process this. She felt terrible.

  “You also risked your life to draw the mutant out into the open,” Amanda replied. She glanced at a clump of trees they passed. “I wish I’d had a chance to see it up close. What did it look like?”

  It took Cassie a moment to realize she was talking about the mutant. She described it as best she could.

  Amanda shuddered. “It must be a virus mutation. The scariest part is that it actually displayed intelligence. I mean, that thing launched an assault on us. A regular zombie wouldn’t have done that.”

  “I know.” Cassie smoothed one hand over Stephenson’s forehead. It was definitely better that he was unconscious. At least this way he wasn’t feeling his messed-up foot.

  “Lena told me the Russians have some sort of vaccine that makes them immune to the zombies,” Amanda said. “Some sort of repellant that keeps the zombies from attacking them. I wonder if that also applies to the mutants?”

  Cassie shrugged. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about the mutants anymore. “Did Dal finish his broadcast before the mutant attacked?”

  “Most of it,” Amanda said. “Anyone listening knows to keep an eye out for them.”

  Well, that was something. At least this mission hadn’t been a waste. They’d accomplished what they’d set out to do.

  Except they now had more information the people needed to hear. “Not only are the mutants strong, but they’re smart,” Cassie said. “That one was smart enough to stay out of gun range.”

  “Dal will have to tell that to the people in the next broadcast,” Amanda agreed.

  They lapsed into silence as the truck bounced its way over the uneven ground back to the cabin. Cassie kept her eyes peeled for mutants the entire way. Her hands never stopped smoothing Stephenson’s hair across his forehead.

  14

  Trade

  Leo wasn’t sure which fact was more disturbing: the fact that Cassie had shot off Stephenson’s little toe, or the fact that she’d charged a mutant zombie with the intention of drawing him out into the open.

  Leo had to go outside while Nonna cleaned and bandaged Stephenson’s little toe.

  He was a complete wreck. The kid wouldn’t stop crying. It was too hard to watch. Leo wasn’t use to guys like Stephenson. He was … delicate. Jennifer and Tate were busy trying to liquor him up with shots of grappa. The other chess girl, Amanda, was helping Nonna.

  As he stepped onto the porch, he caught sight of Cassie’s curly hair disappearing beneath the cabin. He followed her without thought. He arrived in time to see the door to the storage room close.

  While it occurred to him that Cassie might want privacy—it wasn’t every day you accidentally shot your friend—Leo instinctively barged in after her. He was treated to one look of her tear-streaked, devastated face before she stiffened and turned her back on him.

  “Cassie?”

  “I need to be alone for a few minutes, please.” Her voice came out shaky and strained. He could tell she was making an effort not to break down in front of him.

  He hesitated. She had asked him to go

  Stephenson’s screaming from upstairs reached a new crescendo. Cassie flinched and hunched her shoulders, keeping her back to Leo.

  Screw this. He wasn’t going to leave her down here to feel miserable about herself.

  “It was an accident, Cassie.”

&nb
sp; She didn’t say anything. Not a word. She was too busy sobbing.

  Leo stepped in front of her and pulled her into a hug. She tensed. He didn’t let go. After a few seconds, she went limp and rested her forehead on his shoulder. His shirt grew damp as she cried. She shook in his arms as sobs wracked her.

  Leo just held her. He figured it wouldn’t matter if he pointed out that she’d saved everyone and the truck with her stunt. None of that changed the fact that she’d accidentally shot her friend.

  “I …” She hiccuped. “I need to learn how to use a gun. Will … will you teach me?”

  He tightened his grip on her. He liked the way she felt in his arms, though he wished the circumstances were different. “Of course. Tomorrow. How does that sound? I’ll take you, Amanda, and Jennifer out for a few hours of practice. We’ll go way out into the woods where the Russians won’t hear us. We can get Anton to help. He’s a great shot.”

  “Thank you.”

  He squeezed her. “Will you do something for me in return?”

  She lifted wet, red eyes to look at him. Her nose was no more than an inch from his. “What?”

  “I want you to give me chess lessons.” He liked how tall she was. “I want to learn how to play like you play.”

  She blinked in surprise, a small dent appearing between her brows. “You want to learn to play like I play?”

  “Yeah.” If chess was good enough for Napoleon, it was good enough for him. “Will you teach me?”

  She sniffed. “Okay. But just because I give you lessons does’t mean you’ll be able to beat me. I’m really good.”

  He searched her eyes, trying to determine if she was cracking a joke.

  She wasn’t. Her emotional state was making her blunt.

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind being beaten by you.” Apparently, her emotion state was making him blunt, too.

  Their eyes locked. His gaze strayed to her lips. It took all his willpower not to kiss her on the mouth. He diffused the tension of the moment by kissing her on the forehead and pulling her back against his shoulder. It felt good when she relaxed against him.