“These?” the Captain asked, giving his bundle a pat. “Yeah, the original owners didn’t need them anymore, so I decided to give them a good home.” He took one of the rifles off and handed it to the guard, who nodded politely.
“I appreciate it,” he said, keeping a good poker face going, despite the understanding that the old owners were dead. “I’ll give it a good home.”
Terrell looked to the town square, where June and Ruth already had their fire going for breakfast. “I swear you can set your watch by those two,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, yes sir, every single morning they’re like that,” Hoyt replied with a smile at the old ladies. “I bet if you asked real nice, they’d make you breakfast before anyone else.”
Terrell offered him a smile in return before turning to head over to the early bird ladies. “I hope so,” he called over his shoulder, “because I’ave already worked up an appetite today.” He approached the ladies, and they both greeted him with bright smiles.
“Oh, would you look at that?” Ruth exclaimed. “Someone’s up bright and early.”
June nodded. “So good to see young folk taking advantage of all the daylight the good lord gives us,” she added.
“Well ladies, I know there are a lot of impressionable young folks here,” Terrell replied with a chuckle, “so trying to lead by example.”
Ruth patted his shoulder. “The world needs more people like you in it, hon,” she said.
June pulled out a plastic container with some eggs and chopped vegetables in it. “But, since you’re the only one of you we got,” she said as she peeled the top off of it, “we gotta take care of you. Would you like an omelette?”
“I would love one,” Terrell replied, putting a hand to his chest. “Thank you.”
The older woman waved him off. “Well, you just go have a seat on the bench over there, and I’ll bring it right over,” she instructed.
The Captain smiled and walked over to the offered bench as the ladies went to work making breakfast for him and the town. He gently laid the remaining rifle underneath it and crossed his feet at the ankles, taking a load off.
He watched the town spring to life, people beginning to move about and do their daily duties. As he enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his skin, he noticed Xavier, the town leader, heading over towards him.
“Getting a jump start to the day, Captain?” the old man asked with a smile.
Terrell nodded. “Plenty to get done, so no sense in waiting.”
Xavier glanced down at the Captain’s hands, noticing a bit of blood still on them. He frowned. “Run into some trouble this morning?” he asked, voice stern.
Terrell followed his gaze and then held up one of his hands, turning it this way and that to showcase the crimson stain. “As a matter of fact, I did,” he declared. “On the plus side, however, there are two less people out there who want to burn this town to the ground.”
Xavier swallowed hard, clasping his hands in front of him and shaking his head. “Captain…” He bit his lip.
“I know what you’re going to say, and you can save it,” Terrell replied, holding up a palm. “You don’t like violence and that’s fine. But right now, it’s necessary so you are either going to have to suck it up, or turn a blind eye to it because there’s a lot more coming today.”
The old man stared down at him, eyes frustrated and conflicted. Terrell glared back at him, not caring for Xavier’s condescension. The Captain had to do what he needed to do to protect the people in the town, the old man’s feelings be damned. They stared at each other in silence, drawing out the tense moment, and then June broke it as she approached with a piping hot omelette on a plate.
“Morning, Mr. Xavier,” she greeted cheerfully. “Would you like an omelette too?”
He didn’t answer, simply continued glaring at Terrell, who graciously took his plate and took a large bite.
“Mmm,” he groaned happily as he chewed the fluffy egg. “This is some fantastic stuff as usual, June, thank you.” He smiled up at her.
She patted his shoulder and then turned to Xavier, who finally snapped out of his stare down to acknowledge her.
“An omelette would be fantastic June, thank you,” he said politely.
She smiled and shuffled back over to the fire as Terrell continued to happily dig into his breakfast.
“So, Captain,” Xavier continued with a sigh. “If we aren’t able to find the ammonium nitrate, do you have another plan to handle the potential horde from Fayetteville?”
Terrell shook his head. “The plan hasn’t changed,” he said as he swallowed his mouthful. “We get the nitrate, build the bomb, and send those suckers elsewhere.”
The old man blinked at him. “But yesterday we-”
“Yesterday we confirmed that there is nitrate in the area,” the Captain cut in. “Only thing we have to confirm now is the specific location.” He looked past Xavier, where Coleman and Miles emerged from their bunk house, stretching and making their way towards the fire. “And my team and I are going to go take care of that today,” he said.
Xavier pursed his lips. “If you don’t find it-”
“Then we’ll shift our strategy,” Terrell said firmly. “Until I’m confident that there’s no longer a viable option, then we stay on course.”
“Mornin’ Cap, Xavier,” Coleman greeted as the two soldiers approached them.
The old man offered them a kind smile. “Gentlemen,” he replied. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby after a shot of whiskey,” Miles replied, stifling a yawn.
Coleman looked at June and Ruth, giving them a wave and a bright smile. The old women pointed to the big breakfast skillet that they had going, prompting Coleman to grin even bigger and give them an excited thumbs up.
“So what’s on the agenda today, Cap?” he asked.
Terrell cocked his head. “Depends,” he replied, turning to Miles. “What did you find out?” he asked.
“The tracker that we stashed on Mario went to Newton Grove, about twenty miles to the north of here,” Miles replied, taking a seat next to Terrell. “Looks like it’s a tiny one stop light kind of town.”
Xavier shook his head. “Not even that,” he said. “They have a roundabout int he center of town. It’s a highway hub city near the interstate.”
“Anything to indicate that’s where their main compound is?” Terrell asked.
“No clue,” Miles admitted with a shrug. “All I can tell is that the tracker went there right after leaving here, and hasn’t moved in days. Best guess is he changed his clothes and it didn’t leave again.”
“We’ll just have to approach it like it is, then,” Terrell replied, clapping his hands together. He glanced at Coleman, who was accepting a heaping plate of food from Ruth. “What do you have for us on weapons?”
The soldier swallowed a gigantic mouthful. “Ammo is tight, but was able to scrounge up a couple of boxes for our rifles, so we should have two mags each,” he replied. “Only have eight shots to that hunting rifle, so hitting anything from a distance is going to be minimal.”
Terrell reached down beneath the bench and grabbed the ammo bag he’d confiscated from his enemies. “Think you can do some damage with that?” he asked, and tossed it over.
Coleman shoved another mouthful of egg into his mouth as he peeked down into the bag. “Oh yeah,” he said with a grin. “They’ll never see it coming!”
“Captain,” Xavier said, clearing his throat. “Once again, I’m going to ask you to please limit the unnecessary violence.”
“Don’t worry Xavier, all my violence is necessary,” Terrell replied sharply.
The old man raised his chin. “I’m serious, Captain,” he said, gaze like steel. “We’ve already lost far too much this month. Life must be spared if possible.”
“I agree,” Terrell said, nodding. “Which is why we’re heading out to do what we’re going to do.” He got to his feet and walked away from the bench, heading for t
he pickup truck.
Coleman and Miles finished their food and gave Xavier an apologetic shrug, before returning their plates to June and Ruth and following the Captain. Hoyt stood at the pickup, using a metal gas container to refill it.
“Done with your shift for the night?” Terrell asked as he approached.
The guard nodded. “Oh, yes sir,” he replied. “Was just getting this truck gassed up in case someone was doing a run today.”
“Would you mind terribly if we borrowed it?” Terrell asked.
Hoyt smiled, shaking his head. “Oh, not at all,” he replied, and tossed the keys over.
“I’ll do my best to bring it back in once piece,” the Captain said, jingling the keys in the direction of the beat up old truck.
Hoyt chuckled and patted the fiberglass. “Well, if you don’t,” he said with a wink, “I have full confidence that you’ll do your best to commandeer me another one tomorrow.”
Terrell grinned. “I mean, if you’re looking for a new ride,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “you just let me know the make and model you want. I’ll hook you up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the guard replied with a nod. “You boys be safe today.” He gave them a little tip of his hat and then headed off, swinging the gas can in his hand.
Coleman and Miles peeked into the small front cab, and then Coleman cried, “Shotgun!”
Miles dropped his head and shook it, snapping his fingers before clambering up into the bed. “Just be sure you take those bumps easy,” he said, pointing a finger at Terrell. “I’d rather not go flying out the back today.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” the Captain quipped, and got behind the wheel. He honked the horn a few times, and waited for the guards to open the gates before punching the gas to drive out of the city.
Xavier watched the truck disappear over the horizon, frowning in concern.
CHAPTER THREE
Terrell sped up highway 701, about halfway to their destination. The drive had been relatively quiet, with only the occasional zombie wandering out in the fields as they went by. The area was sparsely populated, with the towns they passed through having populations under a hundred.
Coleman looked over at the Captain, raising an eyebrow at the blood still staining his knuckles. “You doing okay, Cap?” he asked tentatively.
“Just peachy,” Terrell replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you still have blood on your hands from yesterday,” Coleman said, motioning to the steering wheel. “I would have thought you’d have washed it off by now.”
The Captain shook his head. “Oh nah, it’s all good,” he replied. “That’s from this morning when I paid a visit to the guys who were always watching the town.”
“Ah, gotcha,” Coleman replied, nodding with relief. And then it hit him what Terrell was insinuating, and he blinked with surprise and a hint of amusement.
The truck came around a corner, with a long straightaway. Up about a half a mile on the left was Hobbton Middle School, a decently sized one-story building. Both soldiers noticed movement in the front parking lot, where there were a couple of SUVs.
Several figures, at least four or five, moved briskly.
“That doesn’t look good,” Coleman muttered.
Terrell nodded, banging on the back window. “This ain’t a school day and those ain’t soccer moms.”
Coleman scrambled for his gun, and Miles sat up, looking through the windows as Terrell sped up. When they reached within a couple hundred yards of the school, their concern was validated when they realized the figures were half a dozen men aiming weapons in their direction. Within moments they opened fire, a bullet ripping through the front windshield.
Terrell jerked the steering wheel to the right, sending the truck veering off of the road. He hit a ditch and flew through the air, sending Miles into the air and out of the bed. The truck landed awkwardly on its passenger side wheels, and Terrell overcompensated turning the other direction. They flipped right over, sliding across the grass.
“You good?” Terrell barked.
Coleman looked around. “Good,” he said, but his eyes widened as he searched for his friend. “Shit, Miles.”
Before Terrell could respond, bullets peppered his side of the truck. “Your side, go!” he yelled, and Coleman forced open the dented passenger door. He crawled out, tightening his sniper rifle on his back and clutching his assault rifle. Terrell squirmed out after him, looking around at the empty field beside them with no cover.
“I don’t see him!” Coleman said, studying the area for any sign of Miles.
Gunfire continued to rain down on them, and they pressed their backs against the upside-down truck, still frantically looking for their friend. Finally, Coleman pointed to some tall grass in the distance moving towards the road at a fairly good clip. Then it got to the ditch, they watched Miles crawl out, remaining concealed from the gunmen.
“That’s one crafty son of a bitch,” Terrell said, shaking his head.
Miles turned and gave them a thumbs up, motioning that he was heading across the street to flank their attackers.
“Let’s give the man some cover, then,” Terrell said, checking his gun.
Coleman pulled out his scoped hunting rifle, and crawled on the ground to the back of the truck, which was resting flat on the ground. He peered through the scope, seeing half a dozen men set up in an ambush line behind the two SUVs. He motioned to Miles to let him know he was about to get cover.
Coleman aimed carefully, seeing one of the gunmen pop up over the hood twice and fire. He honed in on where he anticipated the head to pop out again, and as soon as his enemy emerged, he fired, splitting the guy’s head open like an overripe melon.
Miles moved in as soon as the gunmen all ducked for cover after their friend exploded spectacularly. He got across the road before diving to the ground in the thick tall grass in the lot beside the school.
Coleman continued to aim downrange at the enemy, waiting for another one to pop up. When one finally did come into view, he quickly aimed and fired, but the bullet glanced off of the hood of the car, narrowly missing and grazing the shooter’s arm.
The five remaining men retreated back into the school, giving Miles a chance to strike. He aimed from about forty yards away, squeezing off several rounds from behind as they broke away from their vehicles. One round ripped through a leg, dropping a guy to the ground. The rest of his friends rushed into the building, leaving their screaming comrade for dead.
Miles dove from his hiding spot and tore towards the school.
“Cap, let’s roll,” Coleman said, leaping to his feet and running after Miles.
Terrell followed him, rushing across the street.
As Miles approached the school, gun raised and ready to strike, the wounded man lifted his rifle with one shaky hand, trying to aim it in his direction. Miles was so focused on the school windows that he didn’t have time to adjust his aim, instead diving to the ground as the man fired, aiming high.
Miles readjusted his aim, but before he could fire, Terrell leapt onto the hood of the SUV, aiming his rifle down at the wounded enemy and popping a couple of rounds into his back. Coleman, meanwhile, set up beside the school door, in case anyone decided to come out.
Miles peeled himself up off of the ground, jogging up to join the other two.
“Damn man, you all right?” Terrell asked as he reached them.
Miles nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, just getting the sense you need to let someone else drive,” he teased. “That’s two wrecks in two days there, Captain.”
Terrell chuckled and gave the soldier a playful smack on the chest. When Miles winced, the Captain’s brow furrowed and he shot him a questioning gaze.
“I’m good,” Miles assured him, waving him off. “Let’s do this.”
“Good to see you’re in one piece,” Coleman said as they reached his position.
His friend grinned. “Wasn’t for a la
ck of trying on their part.”
“You had a better view, what are we up against?” Terrell asked.
“Looks like five guys, consumer grade weapons,” Miles said. “Hunting rifles, shotguns. Didn’t look particularly skilled with them, either.”
Coleman snorted. “Guess they aren’t used to things shooting back at them.”
“So what’s the play?” Miles asked.
Terrell motioned to the doors and lifted his chin. “We go in and take them out with extreme prejudice,” he declared. “They wanted a fight, well, they’ve got one.”
The two soldiers nodded in concert with their Captain. Terrell inclined his head to Coleman as he raised his assault rifle, ready to lead them in. He threw open the door and Terrell moved through it, gun at the ready.
The hallway was dark, illuminated only by the light behind them and the doors at the far end of the building. As soon as he got inside, Terrell moved up and his two partners flanked him a few feet behind.
There were doors on either side of the hallway, leading to classrooms all the way down. When they approached the first set, Terrell took a knee just ahead of them, scanning to make sure they weren’t ambushed.
Coleman tried to his door first, but it was locked up tight. He turned to Terrell and shook his head to signify no. Miles tried his, and it unlatched. Coleman moved over to back him up as he threw it open.
It was dark inside, with the metal shutters all closed. The little bit of light from the hallway didn’t do much to show them what was there, however a single gunshot gave away the position of the men hiding in the corner.
The bullet hit the cinderblock wall beside Miles, causing him to dive for cover behind the teacher’s desk. Coleman fired off a three-round burst in the direction of the shot. Both men stayed frosty as they moved across the room. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, they saw that Coleman’s bullets had found their target, and older man with a well-groomed beard.
Miles gave him a swift kick in the head, making sure that he was down for good, and then joined Terrell in the hallway.
Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12 Page 22