Dead America The Second Week (Book 8): Dead America: El Paso Part 3

by Slaton, Derek

  Rogers clucked his tongue clearly across the radio. “Okay, hang tight. I’ll finish that you started.”

  “They’re all yours, Detective,” Trenton replied, and slid down the door to sit on the floor.

  Reed sank down next to him, rubbing his shoulders with a groan. “There’d better be some ibuprofen and icy hot in his bag.”

  “Pretty sure the stuff in his bag will make ibuprofen look like candy,” his friend said.

  Reed barked a laugh. “In that case, I might need two days off. One to heal up, and one to recover from healing.”

  Trenton chuckled and then flinched at the sound of gunfire in the hallway. After the first shot, they listened as the thumping on the door ceased, and a steady stream of bullets cracked through the air.

  Thirty seconds later, the air was quiet. There were no moans, not bullets, not a single sound. They both jumped at the sound of a playful rat-a-tat-tat on the door.

  “Guessing we’re not lucky enough to get pizza delivery,” Reed said.

  Trenton hopped to his feet and held out a hand for his sore friend. They opened the door and Rogers stood there, holding his rifle to his lips to playfully blow on it like an old timey cowboy.

  “Y’all miss me?” he asked with a smirk.

  Trenton rolled his eyes. “You got the goods?”

  “Bags are by the stairwell door,” Rogers replied, inclining his head.

  The younger man nodded. “Well, grab ‘em and come on, because we’re not out of this, yet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Rogers led their trio out of the hospital, the duffel bag loaded to the max with drugs and slung comfortably over his shoulder. With his free hand, he held Reed’s assault rifle, having lost his own and the younger man not as accurate with it as the Detective.

  “Leon, you copy?” Rogers asked into his walkie talkie as they moved at a brisk pace.

  He came back almost immediately, “Yes, sir. You boys clear?”

  “Clear of the hospital, at least,” the Detective replied.

  Leon sighed audibly through the radio. “Well, don’t waste time chatting me up. I got a firing squad at the barricade in case you bring some up with you, but that doesn’t do us any good if they beat you to the cutoff.”

  “Copy that,” Rogers promised. “We’ll let you know when we’re past the warehouse.”

  “Be safe, brother,” Leon said.

  The Detective put his walkie talkie back on his belt and picked up the pace to a light jog. He knew that with the heavy goods he wouldn’t be able to sprint for long, and they needed enough gumption to make it back to town.

  “We’d better start hoofin’ it,” he huffed as the boys kept up. “Fighting zombies it bad enough, but I get the sense listening to Leon tell us how right he was would be the salt in the wound.”

  They turned at the road and headed towards their destination, and stopped short at the sight of a horde standing in front of the warehouse, taking up most of the road.

  “Fuck, now what?” Reed asked, scratching the back of his head.

  Rogers took a deep breath, and spoke quickly and sternly. “Reed, you focus on getting that fire started. Trenton, you find out where those fuckers are getting out, and I’ll take the stragglers. Go!”

  Without hesitation, the trio split, and rushed into the fray. Some of the zombies on the road turned to face them, mouths opening in hunger, but Rogers began popping off rounds, dropping them easily.

  Trenton tore across the warehouse grounds, leaping over the buckled fence as a dozen or so creatures converging on his position. He ducked under a set of rotted arms, grabbing a soft wrist and spinning the zombie back to send it flying back into its friends. He looked up and noticed a broken chute on the side wall, mentally cursing their negligence as a zombie approached it, falling over the waist-high exit and tumbling down the slide.

  It landed on its face, but stumbled to its feet to join the horde. Trenton glanced over his shoulder to see Rogers mowing down the rest he’d knocked over behind him.

  He grabbed the staggering zombie and smacked it forcefully in the shoulder, spinning it 180 degrees so that its back was to him. He gave it a shove, jamming it into the makeshift exit, clogging it up. Gnarled hands tried to reach around the grunting body, but the creature was large enough to stuff the hole fairly well.

  “You good back there?” Rogers asked, leaning around the building.

  Trenton nodded, chest heaving. “Yeah, got the hole plugged, just waiting on Reed to fire it up.”

  “Hang right,” Rogers replied, and ran back out to the road, taking out the last few stragglers out front. He calmly loaded a fresh mag as he stared at the approaching horde, about forty yards from the turnoff road. He aimed and carefully fired, taking several of the lead zombies in the head, briefly slowing the tide of rotting flesh as they tripped over each other.

  “Lighting the fire now!” Reed screamed from the distance, and the Detective tore back to where Trenton had a watchful eye on the plugged hole.

  The fire sparked, and then the fuel ignited, engulfing the entire front of the building into flames. Reed came around the corner, almost barreling into Rogers.

  “Come on, we gotta go out through the back,” the Detective instructed, and then turned to Trenton, who was holding the stopper zombie in place. “Pop that motherfucker, we gotta move.”

  He nodded and used his handgun to still the flailing creature, and it slumped thankfully in the right angle to continue to plug the opening. The trio tore down the side of the building, getting to the back and cutting through the overgrown shortcut they’d mapped before to get back to the main road.

  When they got to the bushes on the side, Rogers flung out his hands to stop the boys, peeking his head out to survey the horde that was no more than fifty yards away.

  “Okay,” he said quietly, ducking back down to face them, “looks like the fire is attracting them, so let’s not give them anything else to care about. Follow me, and stay low.”

  Trenton and Reed nodded in agreement, and moved through the brush, crouched as low as they could go. Rogers led them past a vacant lot, and then took a hard turn when they hit a yard. They rushed up to the house and pressed up against the back of it, carefully peeking around the back corner.

  “Y’all stay outta sight,” Rogers whispered. “I’m gonna check the road.” He stayed low and slithered his way towards the front yard, putting himself in position to look out. He let out a deep sigh of relief at the sight of zero zombies, and jogged back to the house.

  “Well?” Reed asked.

  Rogers grinned. “Holy shit, I think that worked.”

  “Just to be safe, though, I think we should stick to backyards for a few blocks,” Trenton suggested.

  The Detective nodded. “Agreed. Let’s get a move on.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Leon knelt down against a car being used as a makeshift barrier, glancing worriedly at the men around him. Most of them looked like they’d never even held a weapon, let alone shot one, which worried him on too many levels. Firstly, that he had shitty backup, but secondly, that if a horde followed Rogers back, the lives of everyone in town were likely screwed.

  “I see movement!” one of the guards cried, and Leon sprung up to look.

  Three figures jogged up the middle of the road.

  Leon held up a hand. “Nobody fires until I do.” His brow furrowed. “Is everybody clear on that?!” he boomed, and the men all muttered in the affirmative.

  He aimed his sniper rifle downrange, and checked his scope. His heart leapt when he realized it was Rogers, Reed, and Trenton.

  The Detective raised his arms and waved them wildly before cupping his hands around his mouth. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled. “We brought drugs!”

  Leon dissolved into laughter, and the men around him seemed to visibly relax.

  “It’s a good thing our enemies never learned that line, cause I’m pretty sure that shit would have worked,” he joked, and hopped the bar
ricade. As they finally stood in front of each other and exchanged a fist bump, he smirked at the Detective. “So, you brought drugs, huh?”

  “Yep,” Rogers replied. “I have no clue what any of them do, but there’s a shitload of them.”

  Leon grinned. “Hopefully the nurse knows a thing or two about them.”

  “Clara make it back yet?” Trenton asked, brows knit with worry.

  Leon shook his head. “Not yet, but that’s not surprising. Even if she drove straight there and back, she wouldn’t be due for another half hour.”

  Trenton nodded stiffly, taking the answer in stride.

  Leon looked at his watch and paused for a moment, putting a finger to his lips.

  “Got somewhere to be?” Rogers asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” his friend replied. “Next satellite flyover is in about forty-five minutes, so we should get those drugs inspected and get to the command center.”

  The Detective tossed the duffel bag to Leon, who caught it with a grunt.

  “Lead the way, big fella,” Rogers declared with a grin.

  Leon shook his head. “Oh, is this how it’s gonna be, then?”

  “Benefits of being the leader, get to delegate,” the Detective replied.

  His friend barked a laugh. “Shit, if I knew you were going to be delegating me to be your pack mule, I woulda left you out there.”

  They shared a laugh as they hopped back over the barricade. Trenton and Reed busied themselves loading up a waiting vehicle, as the older men turned to the group of wide-eyed men still manning the area.

  “Guys, I think we shook the horde, but in case we didn’t, I need y’all to hang tight a little longer,” Rogers said, holding out his hands.

  Leon nodded. “And just so we’re clear, nobody shoots until I do,” he repeated. “So if you see more than two zombies headed this way, then you radio me. Everybody got that?”

  There was a chorus of affirmative noises.

  “All right, you boys got this,” Leon declared. “We’ll get back to you soon.” He and Rogers hopped into the waiting vehicle, and Trenton started the engine.

  The Detective stared out the window, collecting his racing mind. It had been a rough day, one he knew he was lucky to have survived. Being on this side of it, alive, was surreal.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Leon typed away on the satellite computer as the town nurse rifled through the duffel bag on the table next to him.

  “Detective, was there any rhyme or reason to your selections here?” she asked, sounding a little exasperated as she tried to sort through it all.

  Rogers shrugged. “I started with the biggest containers, then went with the longest names. Figured the more syllables, the more it did.”

  “I’m beginning to see why you didn’t become a doctor,” Leon declared brightly, not even looking up from his work.

  The nurse sighed. “I second that.”

  “Shit, did I not get anything useable?” Rogers asked, the color draining from his face.

  She pointed to the different piles as she explained. “These are good, high end painkillers. These will be good at treating various infections and illnesses… these, however, are used to treat thyroids. Which will be awesome for the handful of women in the camp that need this, but I doubt Señor Rivas is going to care about it.”

  “So we have what,” Rogers began as he leaned over the table, “half a dozen drugs that can get them high?”

  She let out a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks. “There may be some more in here, as I’m still going through the bag. But that’s all I have so far.”

  The Detective chewed his lip, afraid that the entire operation was a total bust.

  “I know it’s a little late in the day for coffee,” Ethel announced as she appeared with two steaming mugs, “so I made it decaf.”

  Rogers smiled warmly at her. “Mighty nice of you, Ethel.” He accepted a mug and took a deep whiff of it, savoring the earthy scent.

  “Should be coming online any minute now,” Leon said, and leaned back to accept his mug, giving Ethel a nod of thanks.

  Trenton and Reed entered the room, sidling up next to the Detective. They all leaned in to get a good look at the monitor as Leon honed in on Fabens. He first checked on the warehouse, which was still smoldering.

  “Looks like the fire took root,” he said, and scanned the surrounding area. “And it doesn’t look like any of them wandered up towards the barricade.”

  Rogers squinted. “But where did that horde go that was coming from the school?”

  “Maybe they burned up?” Reed asked hopefully.

  Trenton shook his head. “Nah, we’d see bodies on the ground if that were the case.”

  Leon moved the camera around, and finally managed to find the mass of shambling bodies heading back towards the school. “What the hell? Why are they going back?”

  “Maybe a bird attracted them and they all just played follow the leader?” Reed asked.

  Rogers pursed his lips. “Yeah, maybe,” he admitted, but didn’t sound convinced. “That would have had to have been one hell of a loud bird, though.”

  Leon zoomed out a bit to look at the entirety of the horde, looking as large as ever. It was a veritable sea of creatures, covering the entire grounds of the school.

  “Man, I just don’t get it.” Trenton sighed. “What’s keeping them there? Like when we were in Van Horn, those things were spread out all over the place, not congregating together.”

  Rogers squinted at the screen, and as Leon began punching keys to move the camera, he put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Wait, wait,” he urged.

  Leon waved his hand at the monitor. “I’m screen capturing this so we can look at it later, we don’t have a long window of time here.”

  “Look at the top of the school,” Rogers demanded.

  They all leaned forward with bated breath.

  Leon’s jaw dropped. “Son of a bitch.” He furiously typed away at the keyboard, zooming in closer on the roof. There were two people there, clear as day, appearing to be hanging what looked like a banner off of the side of the building.

  “How in the fuck did we miss them?” Trenton threw his hands up.

  Rogers rubbed his hand over his mouth, squeezing his chin. “Guess they got trapped in the high school and didn’t want to risk making a run for it.”

  “If the building is secure, it’s not a bad idea,” Leon admitted. “That cafeteria should be stocked, even if it is school food.”

  Reed drew in a sharp breath. “The bigger question is, how in the hell are we getting to them?”

  “Rodriguez says he’s going to try and get us more ammo in the next day or two, so that’ll help,” Leon replied. “In the meantime, I need to do some more scans before we lose the sat.”

  Rogers nodded, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Do what you gotta do. We’ll start game planning the school.” He motioned for the boys to follow him, leaving Leon to focus on what he needed to do with the satellite.

  “Guess the sight of those survivors riled up the horde, huh?” Reed mused.

  Trenton nodded. “That explains why the breakaway group started heading back.”

  “It makes sense, but it also makes our job harder,” Rogers said, leaning back against a table to take a sip of his coffee. “We’ve gotta figure out how to get into contact with them,”

  Trenton shrugged. “I think the first step is going to see what their banner says.”

  “For the moment, let’s assume it says that they’re alive,” the Detective suggested. “They probably heard Leon’s gunshots and saw the smoke from the fire we started, so they wanted to let us know they were there.”

  Reed raised an eyebrow. “Can we make our own banner and hang it up?”

  “Unless they have binoculars, they wouldn’t be able to see it,” Trenton replied, shaking his head. “No way we’d get close enough.”

  His friend grinned. “We
could get a water balloon launcher and send them a message in a bottle.”

  Trenton and Rogers blinked at him, not saying a word.

  “What?” he asked, putting up his hands, palms out. “I’m trying to think outside the box, here.”

  “Try harder,” Trenton replied dryly.

  “You know,” Ethel spoke up as she approached with a fresh pot of coffee, “my grandson has one of them flying contraptions. I can’t remember the word… um… but it’s got them helicopter blades all over it.”

  Rogers brightened. “A drone?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s it,” she replied, and refilled his mug.

  The Detective nodded his thanks. “Do you think your grandson would let us borrow it?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “I mean, it’s not doing him any good right now anyway, because he doesn’t have any power to charge it.”

  Rogers turned to call over his shoulder, “Hey Leon, do you think we can borrow your solar panel charger for a while?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” came the monotone reply, and he didn’t even look away from his screen. “We’ll get it set up in the morning.”

  “Perfect,” Rogers replied, turning back to the helpful elderly woman. “In the meantime, Ethel, would you mind bringing it over here? We need to figure out a way to secure a walkie talkie to it.”

  “If you don’t mind handling your own refills, I’ll go get it right now,” she replied with a kind smile.

  Rogers took the pot from her and handed it immediately to Reed. “I think we can manage, thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure, hon,” she said, and headed for the door. She stopped just short of it and snapped her fingers, turning back. “Oh, by the way, Detective, that nice young lady just came back.”

  Trenton breathed an audible sigh of relief, and his eyes lit up as Clara opened the door and strolled in. Ethel patted her on the shoulder and disappeared, leaving them to it.

  “Welcome back, everything go well?” Trenton said, setting his empty mug in front of Reed, who wrinkled his nose as he filled it up, sloshing a little on the table.