Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12

by Slaton, Derek

  As Coleman headed back across the hall, Terrell glanced at him for a report. The soldier held up one finger and then drew it across his throat.

  Four more, Terrell thought, and continued to move towards the next set of classrooms. As they got a little closer, the left side door flew open up ahead and two gunmen leapt into the hallway. Before they could fire, Terrell popped off one shot, catching one of them in the chest. The other one dove into a doorway across the hall.

  “Miles,” Terrell said, and fired off a few more shots, keeping the hiding man behind cover as Miles rushed up, pressed against the wall.

  When he got right beside the doorway, Terrell stopped firing. After a moment, the gunman came out to try to squeeze off another shot, but Miles was waiting, and fired a point blank bullet into the enemy’s temple.

  The door at the very end of the hallway opened, and three men emerged. They fired off a few panic rounds, and the soldiers fired back. But the distance, darkness, and instinct response fire caused them to miss and gave the enemies a chance to slip out the back door.

  “Move up!” Terrell barked, and they rushed in formation, getting to the double doors. They burst outside to see the gunmen fleeing across the field, headed towards a line of trees a few hundred yards away. “Coleman,” he said.

  His partner drew his hunting rifle, lining up a shot on his first target. “Not a fan of shooting people in the back,” he said, and squeezed off a shot, dropping one of the men. “But if they get to cover they can warn their buddies we’re coming.” He lined up another shot and fired, killing the second man. “And I don’t know about you two,” he continued, lining up another shot. “But I am damn tired of getting into massive firefights.” He squeezed the trigger one more time and dropped the third running man, ending the battle.

  “We didn’t start this fight,” Miles said, running his hands over his head.

  Terrell snorted. “But we sure as shit finished it.”

  “Now we just gotta hope that one of the three inside have the keys to the SUVs out front,” Coleman said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Be a real shame for one of you boys to have to wander out into the field to search them.”

  Miles raised an eyebrow. “And why would we have to go?”

  “Customary,” Coleman replied with a smirk. “Whoever does the tagging, doesn’t have to do the bagging.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. “Is that some sort of sniper code?” he teased.

  Terrell and Coleman shared a glance and then shrugged at each other, chuckling.

  “Yes, yes it is,” Coleman declared, and clapped Miles on the back as Terrell led them back inside to begin the key hunt.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Terrell drove the group up in one of the relatively undamaged SUVs. The tinted windows were all intact, unlike the one they’d left behind. Thankfully one of the guys inside had had the keys, so Miles didn’t have to go running across a field to check dead bodies.

  “Town can’t be more than half a mile up,” he mused as Terrell pulled over on the side of the road approaching the interstate.

  “Well, let’s go see what we can see, then,” the Captain said, and drove on the grass until they reached a dense set of trees. They found a gap large enough to pull into, giving them cover. Everyone hopped out and started walking north through the woods towards the town. As they began their journey, gunshots echoed in the distance, and they all tensed up.

  “If they aren’t shooting at us,” Coleman began, “then what the hell are they shooting at?”

  They listened closely, hearing a constant stream of bullets, followed by nothing. Terrell motioned for the duo to push forward with him, but after a few more minutes the gunfire started up again.

  “If it’s zombies, they must be really spread out,” Miles said quietly.

  They continued moving through the trees, finally reaching the edge of the dense wood. They were a few hundred yards away from the edge of town, across an empty field.

  “Coleman, you’re up,” Terrell said in a low voice.

  The sniper looked up at the tree above him with some big, low hanging branches. “Give me a boost,” he said, and Miles linked his fingers together, creating a step to heave the soldier up to the lowest branch.

  Coleman gracefully hopped up several branches until he was about ten feet from the ground, and then pulled his rifle from his back, peering through the scope. He scanned the area, noting a hive of activity in the town. There were several groups of armed men running in formation around the roundabout in the center, with a few men standing in the middle who appeared to be yelling at them.

  Another group raised their weapons after getting some instructions, before raiding a barricade that looked a lot like the ones they had back in Clinton. They squeezed off a few rounds, taking out dummies on the tops of the makeshift barricade before helping each other over it. Coleman’s breath hitched as they stormed a nearby building, firing even more shots.

  His stomach dropped, rolling over a few times and filling him with dread. He knew what they were training for. And what was worse, they appeared to actually be pretty proficient at it. He shuddered and then continued to scan the area, seeing each road into town had a checkpoint with two guards standing at each one. He saw a small warehouse outside of town with a water tower, and that seemed to be it for the area.

  He shouldered his rifle and hopped down to join his comrades.

  “How we looking?” Terrell asked, crossing his arms.

  Coleman’s gaze darkened. “It’s a training facility.”

  “Training for what?” Miles furrowed his brow.

  “An invasion force,” Coleman replied, taking a deep breath as his friends’ faces went pale. “They have barricades that look like ours, and they’re getting damn good at getting over them.”

  “Did you see any civilians?” Terrell asked, jutting out his chin.

  Coleman shook his head. “No, just armed men training to do us harm.”

  “So what’s our best way in?” the Captain asked immediately.

  Coleman cocked his head. “Every road has a couple of guards, but since we’re in one of their vehicles, we should be able to catch them off guard.”

  “Especially with three of us,” Miles agreed.

  “I actually had other plans,” Coleman said, and at his comrades’ confused expressions, pointed to the water tower in the distance.

  Terrell grinned. “A little cover from above never hurt anybody,” he said, clapping the sniper on the shoulder. “Let’s move.”

  They hurried back through the trees to the SUV, and rolled out to the highway leading to town. They stopped off at the warehouse with the water tower, and Coleman hopped out of the passenger’s seat.

  “When I get going, you take out everybody,” Terrell said through the open window.

  Coleman saluted him. “If they’re moving, they’re getting a bullet,” he promised.

  Moaning erupted from behind them, and the sniper turned, noting a few zombies behind the fence of the warehouse.

  “Might need to give me a minute,” he said.

  Terrell looked at his wrist, playfully pretending to tap a watch that wasn’t there. “You got sixty seconds,” he said.

  Coleman grinned at the challenge, and broke away from the SUV, rushing to the fence while drawing his knife. He jammed it through the opening into one of the zombies’ eyes, before repeating it on the other one, dropping both of them in a matter of seconds. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave a thumbs up.

  Terrell stuck his arm out the window and waved, and then hit the gas, peeling out.

  Coleman shook his head and then scaled the fence, landing hard on the ground and sprinting over to the water tower. As he came around the side of the building, there were a few zombies standing between him and the fence. Rather than kill them, he lowered his shoulder and dashed forward.

  “You boys are gonna have to wait,” he grunted, and barreled through them, darting for the ladder below the water tower.
He huffed as he moved as quickly as he could up the tall structure.

  When he reached the landing, he took a knee for a moment to catch his breath, and watched the SUV slowly moving up towards the checkpoint. He pulled his rifle from his pack and aimed at it so he could keep track of his friends.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Cap,” he said under his breath, and waited.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Terrell approached the checkpoint, and one of the guards gave him a friendly wave as they approached. The other guard remained seated on the hood of a sedan just off of the road.

  “As soon as these boys are down, you get to that first building and get inside,” the Captain instructed. “I’ll do what I can to drive them your way.”

  “On it,” Miles said, and readied his gun.

  Terrell stopped the SUV beside the checkpoint, prompting a wave through by the guard. The Captain grunted, a little frustrated that he wasn’t coming over, so he knocked on the window. The guard raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but didn’t raise his weapon as he headed over.

  As soon as he reached the window, Terrell aimed his handgun and fired twice at point blank range, hitting the man in the chest. The window shattered, giving him a clear shot at the seated guard. He fired twice more, killing the man, and Miles darted out from the backseat, rushing across the short field to the closest building.

  The noise from Terrell’s gunshots alerted one of the instructors in the center of the roundabout, and he started screaming and pointing wildly in the SUV’s direction. He didn’t get to say too much, however, before his head exploded from a sniper round.

  “That’s my boy!” Terrell cheered, and hit the gas, speeding towards the center of town as four armed men came to the top of the road. They scrambled to aim their rifles as he sped towards them, and he lowered himself in his seat, not breaking course.

  As he got closer, he stomped the gas pedal and turned into the group. The men tried to scatter, but he caught two of them on the passenger side front of the vehicle. The SUV bumped up off of the ground as he plowed through and over them.

  The commotion drew out the others from their buildings on the opposite side of the roundabout, and they immediately began firing in Terrell’s direction. He drew his assault rifle and fired several shots through the front windshield, taking out the two men who had dodged his drive-through.

  Bullets ripped through the shattered windshield and pinged off of the engine. Smoke began to rise from under the hood, signaling the engine had taken a fatal blow. Terrell mashed the gas pedal, causing a burnout as he went around the roundabout, shots peppering the side of the SUV. As he reached about halfway around, he lined the vehicle up with the half-dozen men in front of the building. He flipped on the cruise control and opened the door, leaping out.

  He hit the road hard, stumbling across the ground, and managed to dive behind some cover at the center of the roundabout. He peeked over to see the SUV speeding towards the men, still trying to shoot it down. They scattered in time, and the vehicle crashed into the building with a loud crunch.

  Terrell aimed at the men to the right, the outer portion of them, and opened fire in three-round bursts. He hit one of them in the chest, as the other two dove for cover. Then he leapt up and ran across the street, using the smoke from the SUV to hide him, reaching the entryway of a business before taking a knee and finishing off the two men he’d missed in the first group.

  At this point, a dozen men in the town square had their sights set on him, and opened fire. Terrell shot out the window of the store he’d stopped in front of, and dive into the darkness. He laid flat on the floor, just inside the front display, as the hunting supply shop exploded with gunfire.

  “Anytime now, Coleman,” the Captain grunted, and as if on cue, the sniper opened fire.

  Terrell peeked over the threshold to see a few men drop to the ground in fleshy heaps. Several of them turned in the direction of the shots in a panic, attempting to find the culprit. One managed to turn just in time to get a bullet to the face, blowing out the back of his head.

  Terrell used the opportunity to leap up from cover and open fire, catching a few enemies in the back. The attackers rushed back to cover, into the building next to the road that he’d driven in on. When a few men tried to run towards the other building, he fired, hitting the ground beside them to drive them in the direction he wanted them to go.

  Terrell broke cover, rushing back out into the town square, and over to the roundabout center. He hit the ground as gunfire came his way from the building.

  “Your show, Miles,” he muttered.

  Inside the clothing store, Miles lay in wait at the back of the store, hiding behind the checkout counter. He heard the numerous gunshots, footsteps and panicked chatter of the men inside. He looked over the counter and saw about eight men, all aiming their guns at the Captain.

  He quickly hopped up from behind cover, aiming to the right, and started popping off three-burst shots. At first, the men at the front of the store didn’t notice, considering how loud their gunfire was. It wasn’t until the third man took shots to the back that the fourth turned around and saw Miles.

  He panic fired, hitting the back counter, and forcing Miles to the ground. “Back counter!” he screamed, and his buddies turned to help him.

  The soldier blindly fired through the wooden counter, while attempting to get to the back storeroom. He stayed flat on the ground, laying in the doorway when the first man came around the counter. He unleashed a three-round burst, catching the man at the waistline and going up through his torso.

  He hopped to his feet and ran through the back storeroom, footsteps thundering behind him. As he exited the building he fired a single shot into the air, hoping that Coleman would get the signal. He ran to the end of the building, turning back as a man in the doorway screamed at him to stop.

  As their eyes met, the enemy’s chest exploded from a sniper round. Before the next man could exit, Miles disappeared around the corner of the building.

  For the briefest of moments, there was silence in the town. No gunfire at all. It was almost eerie.

  It was Terrell who broke that silence. “I don’t know how many of you motherfuckers are left, but you may want to take a moment to look at the situation,” he called from his vantage point. “Look at your friends laying in the street with bullets in their heads. If you don’t want to end up like them, I would very strongly suggest you throw down your weapons and come out of there.”

  Several moments passed, but nothing happened. He growled under his breath.

  “Since you seem to be a little indecisive, let me give you a fun fact,” he bellowed. “I did this amount of damage when I was nice and calm. If you’re not out here in five seconds, I’m gonna start taking it personal and getting real hot. So if you don’t want to be at the receiving end of that, you’d better be out here in five… four… three…”

  “Okay, we’re coming out!” somebody cried from the store.

  Terrell aimed his rifle carefully. “Nice and slow,” he called. “Empty hands up.”

  Three men slowly emerged, eyes darting around everywhere, hands high above their heads. Miles came around the building to flank them, waving to show them they should stay nice and civil. Terrell finally came out of cover, his gun aimed.

  “On your knees!” he barked.

  The three men complied, dropping to their knees on the road, hands still high above their heads. The Captain slung his rifle over his shoulder and got close to the first man, a young guy in his late twenties with significant blood on his clothing. He seemed a bit shell-shocked, likely from whatever had left the blood on him.

  “So, let’s see if you can make this easy on yourself,” Terrell said in a low, forceful voice. “Where is your camp at?”

  The man didn’t seem able to respond, face pale and eyes wide. Miles wasn’t even sure that he’d heard the question.

  Terrell clucked his tongue. “You have one more chance to answer me, before you wish you ope
ned your mouth,” he warned. “Where. Is. Your. CAMP?”

  The man was dazed, and still didn’t respond. Terrell stood up straight, pulled out his handgun, and cocked it, putting it against the man’s forehead. The shell-shocked prisoner didn’t even flinch, didn’t move.

  Miles swallowed hard, uneasy with the situation.

  “Goodbye,” Terrell said.

  “It’s Benson!” the man on the end cried, before the Captain could pull the trigger.

  Terrell cocked his head, and then uncocked his gun, walking over to the man who’d spoken, who was older, maybe in his fifties. Miles let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, glad the execution didn’t go through.

  “I didn’t quite make that out,” Terrell said, cupping a hand around his ear. “You want to tell me that again?”

  The man motioned as much as he could while keeping his hands above his head. “The town is called Benson, it’s just up the road a bit.”

  “Could you be a little more vague on that?” the Captain snapped. “There’s a lot of roads in these parts.”

  The prisoner swallowed hard. “It’s about fifteen miles north, on the interstate.”

  “Now that wasn’t too difficult, was it?” Terrell asked, and then took a knee in front of the man, glaring at him. “Now, what else can you tell me?”

  The man took a deep breath. “It’s a hardened target for one,” he said shakily, “with a lot more men who are better equipped and trained than what you found here.”

  Terrell stared at him, tonguing his cheek. “Man, you’re good,” he finally said. “Honestly can’t tell if you’re bluffing or not. Glad we aren’t playing poker.” He stared him down, and narrowed his eyes. “Let’s see if you can tell if I’m bluffing or not.” He extended his arm, and aimed the handgun at the middle prisoner’s head, cocking the hammer back. “If you lie to me, this man dies,” he said, voice cold. “Do you think I’m bluffing?”

  “I think if you don’t like what I tell you, that you’ll pull the trigger,” the man in front of him replied calmly. “Not sure truth comes into it.”