The Captain scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Nothing like ‘finding it’ for the fourth time in a week.”
“This stuff ain’t easy to track down,” Miles reminded him. “Especially in the apocalypse.”
Terrell sighed. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “But I’ve heard this so many times before, so I’m not holding my breath.”
“Wanna go hear him out?” Coleman asked. “I mean, it’s not like you have much else to do today.”
Walter crossed his arms. “Hey, he’s training me!”
“True,” Coleman replied as he turned to the kid, “but you’re already a badass, right?”
The teen puffed out his chest. “Heck yeah I am!” He grinned.
“Okay,” Terrell conceded with a sigh, “let’s go see Xavier and find out what we’re doing today.”
Walter raised a hand. “Can I come too?” he asked.
Coleman glanced at the Captain, who contemplated for a moment.
“Yeah, okay,” Terrell finally said. “You can come to the meeting.”
Walter let out a whoop, the first time he’d been allowed in a meeting.
Terrell held up a hand. “Only thing I’m promising is the meeting,” he declared, calming the kid down some. “If it doesn’t look too dangerous, then we’ll talk. I know you’ve been out with us before, but we just gotta make sure you’re safe.”
Walter smiled, showing his teeth, and nodded like a bobblehead before following them out of the building.
CHAPTER TWO
The morning sun blanketed the town of Clinton with a warm glow. The once-sleepy rural town thirty-five miles east of Fayetteville was busy despite the early hour. People moved about, taking advantage of the rain free morning to sort and can veggies before they rotted out.
Others worked at reinforcing the makeshift barricades on the roads, still being made out of cars, sheet metal, and large hay bales. It was enough to hold back a few zombies, but there was an unspoken concern over how to hold back enemy people.
The quartet walked across to the center of town, a nice park area bustling with activity. Xavier waved them over to the cook fire, where June and Ruth were cooking up sausages and eggs.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies!” Coleman declared, spreading his arms. “That is smelling fantastic!”
June smiled, the wrinkles on her face crinkling. “Well, we know you boys have a busy day ahead of you,” she said.
“And you can’t have a busy day on an empty stomach,” Ruth added, grabbing a plate and heaping it with food.
She handed it to Coleman, and he accepted it with glee. He took a seat, and started eating as the other three took their plates, easily with less food on them.
“I think it’s clear that I’m the favorite,” Coleman declared through a mouthful of sausage.
Terrell and Miles shook their heads, smiling at each other.
“Morning, Xavier,” the Captain greeted.
The old man nodded sagely. “Gentlemen, good morning,” he said. “Hope the day finds you well.”
“That remains to be seen,” Terrell admitted. “Depends a lot on what you got for us.”
Xavier waved them over to the other end of the picnic table. “Come on over, and I’ll tell you.” There was a map spread out across the table, and the four of them moved over. The old man furrowed his brow at Walter. “Hey, son, why don’t you go see if Hoyt needs some help over by the barricade.”
The teenager gaped at him. “But… but…”
“It’s okay,” Terrell cut in. “I told him he could come with us.” At Xavier’s concerned gaze, he continued, “Look, he’s been training real hard with me, and including him makes him stay focused. Doesn’t hurt anything to have him here.”
Xavier pursed his lips and nodded, turning back to the map. “So, gentlemen,” he continued, “I know that we have had some issues tracking down the ammonium nitrate we need for our… diversion.”
“You can call it a bomb,” Coleman added through a mouthful of eggs.
“Very well, our bomb,” Xavier corrected, waving his hand. “We struck out a few times, but I believe we have been able to finally track it down. The last farm you investigated had a delivery form in the paperwork you brought back, and we found that they had been given another farm’s papers. According to the records, they were supposed to get a couple hundred pounds of what we need the day before all this began.”
Coleman swallowed his mouthful and nodded. “So there’s a good chance it actually got delivered then.”
“That’s my thinking,” Xavier agreed.
“So where is this one at?” Miles asked, leaning over the map.
The old man pointed to the top of the paper. “It’s to the east of Mount Olive, about twenty-five miles to the northeast of here.”
“Oh, I know Mount Olive,” Walter piped up. “Ain’t nothing to that town.”
Xavier fixed the kid with a hard stare, causing him to wither beneath his gaze and avert his eyes.
Terrell leaned forward, however. “So there’s nothing in Mount Olive, Walter?” he asked pointedly, including him in the conversation.
The kid perked up, shaking his head as he regarded the Captain. “Oh, no,” he replied. “It’s about half the size of Clinton. I’d be surprised if there was a zombie left in that place.” He held up a fist. “But if there was, I’d take it out.” He speared a sausage with his fork as if to accentuate his point.
“No doubt,” Terrell said with a chuckle.
“How big is the farm?” Coleman asked.
Xavier shrugged. “Small family farm, fifty acres at the most.”
“So, not likely to find much resistance at all,” Miles replied.
The old man nodded. “That’s my assessment as well.”
Terrell glanced at Coleman, inclining his head slightly towards Walter. His second nodded in agreement before shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“Well, the four of us will get ready to head out, then,” the Captain declared.
Both Xavier and Walter’s head snapped up at the same time, and in perfect unison, said, “The four of us?!”
“Yes, the four of us,” Terrell confirmed. “Young Walter can handle himself, and this sounds like an easy day.”
Coleman took a loud bite of one of his sausages. “They usually start that way.”
Terrell glared at him, but Xavier nodded anyway.
“Very well,” the old man said with a sigh. “I had planned on having him help with loading up the tank we brought back for our… bomb. But if you would like him with you, I can find someone to replace him.”
Terrell nodded. “I appreciate that,” he said, and then turned to Coleman. “Can you take Walter and get him geared up? I need to talk to Xavier for another moment.”
“Sure thing, Cap,” Coleman replied, swallowing the last of his food and getting to his feet. “Come on, kid, let’s find you something fun.”
The trio headed off, Walter in the middle, trotting excitedly.
Xavier took a seat. “What can I do for you, Captain?” he asked.
“Have you been able to find out where that tracker we put on Mario ended up?” Terrell asked.
The old man nodded. “Yes, it’s a little town called Newton Grove,” he replied. “About twenty miles due north of here.”
“Have you sent anybody up to check it out?” Terrell asked.
Xavier shook his head. “I haven’t been able to spare the manpower,” he said.
The Captain bristled, about to open his mouth to argue, but the old man put up a hand to stop him.
“However,” he continued firmly, “I have had men keeping an eye on the only road leading to it. Outside of nightly patrols coming down here to check up on us, nothing has gotten within two miles of town.”
Terrell nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. “If that changes…” he trailed off.
“You’ll be the first to know,” Xavier promised.
They shook hands, and then the Captain headed off to jo
in his crew.
CHAPTER THREE
Coleman drove the extended cab work truck, and Terrell stared out the passenger window as the other two got cozy in the back seat. Walter rolled down his window, looking outside at the rolling fields like a happy puppy on a car ride.
“Bud, you seem really happy to be out of town,” Miles said, a goofy smile on his face as he took in the kid’s excitement.
Walter nodded, turning to him. “Oh yes, sir,” he replied. “I hadn’t been out until we met at that factory last week.”
“So what do you have you doing all day?” Miles asked.
The kid shrugged. “Oh, whatever needs to be done,” he replied. “Fixing up barriers, keeping watch, carrying heavy boxes of canned food to storage.”
“I can see why you were anxious to get out,” Miles replied with a chuckle.
Coleman let off the gas, causing the duo in the back seat to lean in and stare out the front windshield.
“What’s up?” Miles asked.
“Mount Olive is up ahead,” Coleman explained. “Figured a little caution might be in order.”
The quartet looked ahead at the southern edge of the town. There wasn’t much to see in terms of buildings, just a smattering of small homes.
“Take it nice and slow,” Terrell instructed. “According to Xavier, we need to take the first main road to the right, and that’ll take us out to the farm.”
Coleman hit the gas and they rolled through town. As they got up to the first batch of houses, a few zombies wandered out from between them. Walter immediately rolled up his window, and the Captain barked a laugh.
“Easy there bud,” he said, “they can’t get you from way over there.”
The kid laughed and averted his gaze, embarrassed. He rolled the window back down, but only halfway.
As they drove up into the town, they came across more zombies as the buildings started to come up. There were several dozen creatures hanging around the school. Coleman slowed to a crawl as they passed it to avoid unnecessary attention. Up ahead, about a hundred and fifty yards away, was a throng of undead in the road.
“What do you think, Cap?” Coleman asked.
Terrell pursed his lips for a moment. “The turnoff can’t be too much further up…” he mused, and looked at the neighborhood to his right that was much lighter on zombies. “So there’s a good chance we can pick up the road if we cut through this neighborhood.”
“I like that idea a lot better than rolling through that lot up ahead,” Coleman replied, and hit the turn signal before turning onto the next street.
Terrell raised an eyebrow as the signal clicked off, and the driver realized what he’d done, shaking his head and laughing.
“Old habits die hard,” he said.
As they rolled through the neighborhood, they scanned the lower-class area filled with houses that looked like they should have been bulldozed years ago. Terrell furrowed his brow at the myriad of zombies in each yard.
Miles noticed, too. “Why are there so many of those things here?” he wondered. “You would think people would have gotten out when this was happening.”
“Poor people don’t have those kinds of options, sir,” Walter said hoarsely. “I mean… no disrespect, but do you think people with houses like this have good cars?”
The stout soldier clenched his jaw, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. With his middle-class upbringing, he wasn’t used to having to check his privilege. “That’s a good point, kid,” he admitted.
Coleman squeaked to a stop at a dead-end road. “Now what?” he asked.
Terrell pointed to the main road about thirty yards across the field. “Looks like that’s our road,” he said.
“Four wheel drive it is, then,” Coleman said, and popped the truck into a lower gear. He rolled out onto the grass, and after a bit of a bumpy ride, they came out onto the road unscathed. “So how far up is this place?” he asked when they were safely back on the pavement.
Terrell looked down at the crudely drawn map in his lap. “Looks to be four or five miles,” he replied, running his finger along the line Xavier had drawn.
“Well, enjoy these last few minutes of peace, boys,” Coleman declared, “cause we’re about to get into it.” He hit the gas, speeding them up a bit, and Miles and Terrell checked their assault rifles and handguns.
“Miles, how you looking on ammo?” the Captain asked.
The stout man popped open his handgun. “Last mag on the handgun,” he replied. “Two and a half mags on the rifle.”
“Better than I’m doing,” Terrell muttered.
Coleman nodded. “Same here.”
They sped up the road, making the turnoff to the farm. It was a long dirt driveway, leading up to a modestly sized single story house. Two large barns overlooked the left side of the bumpy road.
Coleman pulled up between the barns and the house, turning off the engine. As soon as it was off, Walter opened his door.
“Shut that door!” Terrell snapped.
The kid shut it quickly, putting his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cried.
“It’s okay,” the Captain replied, much gentler this time, “but remember to look before you come out of anywhere. If you want to be a successful warrior, you gotta know what you’re up against.” He pointed outside. “Now, what do you see?”
Walter looked towards the house, seeing half a dozen zombies stagger around from the side of it, attracted by the noise. “I… I see…” he stammered. “Five… no, six… zombies, about forty yards away by the house.”
“Good,” Terrell replied. “Now what else?”
The kid scanned the area closely, seeing only one more lone zombie about twenty-five yards from where they were, well clear of the house. “There’s one straggler away from everybody else.”
“Good,” the Captain said. “Let’s go take care of that one first.”
Walter nodded firmly, eyes determined. “I’m ready when you are.”
“You two check the barns for what we came here for,” Terrell said to the others. “Walter and I will check out the house.”
There were nods all around, and then everybody jumped out of the truck together. Walter jogged to catch up with Terrell, and they headed for the straggler zombie, a disheveled creature that looked like it had been easily in its seventies before it died.
It turned towards them and staggered forward in blood-covered overalls.
“Well, go on,” Terrell said, “show me what you’ve learned.”
Walter drew his knife, readying to strike, focusing on everything he’d been trained to do. As the clumsy creature reached for him, he stepped to the side, tripping it, sending it tumbling onto its face. He hopped quickly onto its back and stabbed into its skull.
The blade only penetrated a quarter of an inch into the bone, nowhere close enough to kill it. The creature continued to squirm, and Walter froze, eyes wide with fear.
Terrell stepped forward and stomped down on the handle of the blade, sending it into the brain and making the zombie go limp. He held out a hand to the frightened teenager.
“Remember, kid,” he said gently. “You aren’t stabbing hay out here. You gotta put some oomph behind it.”
Walter took a deep breath and grabbed his blade. “Yes, sir.”
“Now, when we get back to town, I’m putting you on a weight training regimen,” Terrell declared. “We gonna buff you up!”
The kid grinned at that, and then they turned towards the moaning coming from the house. Six zombies staggered towards them, about thirty yards away, spread out fairly far from one another.
“Now, you ready to put your weight behind your attack?” he asked, and when Walter nodded, he continued, “Okay, we’re gonna do some teamwork here. I’m gonna knock ‘em down, and you’re gonna put ‘em down. Can you handle that?”
The kid held up his knife triumphantly. “Let’s do it!”
“All right then,” Terrell said. “You keep up now.
” He ran towards the first ghoul, a small farmhand who’d met the business end of a neck bite. He grabbed it by the arm and jerked it towards him, tripping it up.
He spun around, putting a boot on the zombie’s back so that Walter could thrust his knife all the way down to the hilt.
“Got him!” the kid exclaimed.
“Great job!” the Captain said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But don’t get too excited, we got five more.” He hopped over towards the next one, and did a spinning roundhouse kick, catching the ghoul in the side of the head and knocking it over.
He glanced back to see Walter leap on the creature and stab it, so he moved on to the next zombie. This kid’s gonna be alright, he thought, and then grabbed the monster by the throat and choke-slammed it to the ground. He flipped it over onto its stomach to make for an easier kill, and then moved on.
The next three zombies fell quickly to the Captain’s martial arts moves, becoming a writhing pile of tattered bloody work clothes. As Walter stabbed the final ghoul in the back of the head, Terrell helped him up.
“That’s some fine work there, kid,” he said, clapping him on the back. “Fine work.”
Chest heaving, Walter grinned. “I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Come on, let’s go check out the house.” He waved for the kid to follow him, and then headed for the front door, which was slightly ajar. He gently pushed it open, and Walter tried to lead the way, but Terrell pushed him back gently, shaking his head in the process.
He reached out and knocked loudly on the doorframe, which drew out a creature from a side room halfway down the hall. The ghoul staggered towards them in a bloody floral dress, arms outstretched.
“Time for your next lesson,” Terrell said, drawing his knife. “How to deal with a zombie in confined quarters.” He walked into the hallway, and narrated his movements. “First, you grab it by the shirt, and lock your arm, keeping it at bay. Second, you take your knife and aim it for the eye socket. Third, stab it until it stops moving.”
He delivered a perfect knife strike to the eye, sending the zombie to the ground in a heap. He stayed still for a moment, straining his ears to make sure there was nothing else moving about, but he didn’t hear anything.
Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12 Page 15