Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 11 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 9]

by Slaton, Derek

  Korver stopped and turned back to the north to get around it. When they reached the edge, they saw dozens of zombies heading through the intersection, spread out and moving at a steady clip.

  “We gotta push through them,” he murmured.

  Galindo stared at the horde, chewing his lip in thought. He spotted a few rolling dumpsters on the next block and pointed them out. “Looks like it was trash day,” he said.

  The Corporal looked and nodded in approval, waving for the rest to cluster in. “Okay,” he said quietly, “we’re going to have to push through a group of these things. They’re going to give chase, there’s no question about it. When we get across, everybody grab a trash can as they go by.”

  The other four soldiers exchanged glances of confusion.

  “Just trust me,” Korver continued, “grab one and bring it along. Hell, grab two if you can manage it.” He turned to Galindo. “How do you feel about covering our retreat?”

  The Private wrinkled his nose. “Depends,” he replied. “How would you feel if I got eaten while covering your retreat?”

  “I don’t know,” the Corporal replied, a playful twinkle in his eye, “I might shed a tear.” He raised a finger. “Might.”

  Galindo cracked a smile. “Well, I’ll see if I can spare you that terrible fate,” he replied.

  Korver nodded and motioned for everybody to follow him, moving as quickly as they could. Galindo held back, taking up the rear position.

  The Corporal was first to the intersection, making a point to smack into the first zombie he encountered, delivering a forceful shoulder strike and sending the surprised ghoul flailing to the asphalt. He repeated this with another one halfway across the road, sending it to the ground as well. When he glanced up the road, there were a hundred or so of the monsters, all of which far more interested in the meals on legs than the noise in the distance.

  The group ducked and dodged outstretched rotten hands as they reached the other side. Korver led the five of them up, everybody grabbing trash cans and rolling them behind.

  Galindo stopped ten yards deep into the street, pulling his knife and waiting for the zombies to start coming his way. “All right, come on, who’s first?” he barked.

  A few zombies were ahead of the others, staggering towards him. Galindo leapt into action, smacking one of them in the head with his blade and shoving it back into the others. Rather than go in for the kill, he kept his distance to keep the attention of more zombies coming his way.

  An elderly-looking zombie with a tattered flower dress staggered towards him, and he stabbed it in the forehead, dispatching it quickly and kicking it back into its brethren. Another in a business suit made a lunge for him, and he cracked it with his elbow, reeling around and stabbing it in the temple. As he readied to strike again, there was a loud whistle from fifty yards behind him.

  Galindo quickly turned tail and ran, quickly catching up to the others. As he grew close, he appraised the makeshift barricade made entirely of rolling trash cans. He stopped just short of it, having had some time as the zombies were slow moving, and inspected his team’s handiwork. The cans lay on their side, stretching from one side of the road to the other, layered two deep. He nudged one with his foot, moving it slightly.

  “Great craftsmanship,” he said, letting out a low whistle.

  Korver shrugged. “It isn’t perfect,” he admitted, “but it’ll slow them down.”

  “How?” Galindo cocked his head.

  Barr grinned. “Why don’t you hop over and find out?”

  He attempted to step over, and found that it was more difficult than he thought, as the can came up to his knees. Finally he gave it a hop, the leg landing between the two lines, and stumbled over to the other side. Sellers and Benton caught him before he face planted.

  “We only have to buy enough time to get out of their sight,” Bartlett explained. “If your gracefulness is any indication, it’ll do just fine.”

  Galindo shook his head and headed past them towards the next street, hiding his blush. “Come on, let’s get moving,” he said tersely.

  The rest of the team chuckled and followed him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Nearly an hour had passed as the group slowly worked their way south. The constant stops to cause diversions and stay out of sight was time consuming, but it was a lot more pleasant than starting a battle that could have quickly escalated into something they couldn’t win.

  They took a breather inside a small business that overlooked one of the sports fields they’d seen on the satellite image. There was a huge college sign across the street, letting them know they were in the right place. There were dozens of zombies on the sports fields, with more roaming the buildings between.

  “Now the only question is,” Barr mused as she studied the area, “where is the residence hall?”

  Benton leaned forward, squinting. “Looks like there are only a dozen buildings or so,” he said. “Shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

  “Yeah, nothing says easy like looking for an address while fighting off hordes of zombies,” Barr retorted, rolling her eyes.

  Benton scoffed. “I didn’t say the whole thing would be easy,” he shot back, “but finding the building out of twelve shouldn’t be overwhelming.”

  “Bullshit,” Barr snapped. “Shouldn’t be too hard is the same as saying it’s easy.”

  As the two soldiers bickered, Bartlett got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen with purpose, causing the others to pause and wonder what she was doing.

  “Hey, you okay?” Sellers asked.

  She didn’t answer, just disappeared inside, and the trio followed her.

  “Hey, you’ll have to forgive us,” Benton gushed as he rushed inside, “we fight quite a bit.”

  Bartlett shook her head. “Not why I came in here,” she assured him, “but thanks for the concern.” She dug through a small table in the corner of the kitchen, filled with knick-knacks and whatnot on the top. Finally she pulled out a phone book, holding it up for them to see.

  Benton raised an eyebrow. “Glad you were able to find us another bludgeon to use against those things,” he said, appraising the large and heavy book.

  “I think we’ll find what’s inside to be more useful,” she replied, and slammed it down on the kitchen table, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  “Oh,” Benton said lamely, clearly embarrassed he hadn’t made the connection.

  She opened it and pored through it, before finding an entry under the college name that read Residence Hall. Just to the side of it was the address, 1422 Mayfair Drive.

  “We may not know what the building looks like,” she said, “but we know where it is. It’s not much, but I figure it’s better than going in completely blind.”

  The other three chuckled a bit, nodding in approval.

  “That’s a hell of a find, Bartlett,” Benton admitted.

  Sellers nodded with a grin. “Especially given the fact you are way too young to have used a phonebook in your life,” he added.

  “I spent summers at my grandmother’s house,” she said defensively, “and she would have me look up the number to the pizza place after she burnt dinner.”

  The group chuckled and headed back out into the living room.

  “Hey Corporal, you’re not going to believe this find,” Barr declared.

  Bartlett carried the phone book to Korver, pointing out the address.

  “Quality work there, Private,” Korver said. “Now, we just have to figure out where that road is, and we’ll be in business. Let’s gear up.”

  The group readied their weapons before moving over to the front window to plot their course.

  “The sports fields on either side of the buildings look like they could be trouble,” the Corporal mused.

  Barr cocked her head. “Looks like most of the fencing is still in place,” she added, “so that should help contain a lot of them.”

  “Still, it’s something we’re going to have to keep a
ny eye on,” Galindo put in. “Last thing we need is an unexpected mob.”

  Korver nodded, pursing his lips. “I think our best bet is to go straight down the main road leading to the heart of campus,” he suggested. “That gives us a street on either side for a retreat, if need be.”

  “How big does the campus look on the map?” Sellers asked.

  The Corporal pulled out the piece of paper and looked at it, using his fingers as makeshift measuring tools. “It’s hard to tell with as pulled out as the view is,” he murmured, “but it’s at least twice as big as the sports fields. So three, maybe four blocks?”

  “Corporal, I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds…” Bartlett began slowly. “But I think we should check out the street names running north and south before venturing onto campus.”

  Korver nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “Last thing we want is to get four blocks deep only to realize the street we need is on our left. In that case, when we break out of here, we get into groups of two.” He pointed at the soldiers as he spoke. “Sellers and Bartlett, you check the road on the left. Barr and Galindo, you get the right. Meet back at the top of the center street. If you encounter zombies, it’s either melee or avoidance. No gunfire until absolutely necessary. Everybody clear?”

  There was a round of “clear”, and then he nodded firmly.

  “Let’s move out,” Korver said, and the group left the house, rushing across the street and over a large parking lot headed towards campus.

  There were a smattering of zombies in the lot, but they were easy enough to avoid. The troops gave them forceful shoves, sending them to the ground. They rushed to opposite streets, branching off to check the names on the signs.

  They reconvened at the top of the center street, and Korver turned to them.

  “Find what we’re looking for?” he asked.

  Galindo shook his head. “No Mayfair Drive,” he replied.

  “Same here,” Sellers added.

  “Let’s get moving to the south, then,” the Corporal instructed, and waved for them to follow.

  The troops moved, slowing as they approached the first intersection. They headed for the western building, inching up towards the road. As they grew closer, Korver looked up to check the street names.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. No Mayfair.

  The Corporal motioned for the group to stay back, and he looked around the corner. There were a few dozen ghouls down the street, hanging around the entrance to the sports field. Just at the end of the road, he could see that the gate was open, and several more dozen ghouls littered the field.

  He glanced the other way, seeing that the street was virtually empty save for a few creatures the next block up. He turned back around.

  “West could be trouble,” he said quietly, “the gate to the field is open and there’s a party going on. We need to get across the intersection, quick.”

  Galindo raised an eyebrow. “Any trouble in the other direction?”

  “Pretty clear, nothing to worry about,” Korver replied, shaking his head. “Forget single file, we need to cross shoulder to shoulder, minimize our exposure. Let’s get across.”

  The team lined up, stretching halfway across the road. Korver silently counted them down, then started across. They stayed as low as they could, moving quickly while trying to keep their steps light. They reached the other side and pasted themselves against the western wall. Korver worked his way back to the corner to see if they’d attracted any attention.

  A few zombies shuffled their way, almost looking confused.

  Come on, he silently prayed, you didn’t see anything. You know you didn’t see anything.

  His positive thinking paid off, and two zombies near the back bumped into each other and swatted at one another, moaning loudly. The handful of creatures in the front turned back their way, staggering off.

  The Corporal breathed a deep sigh of relief and then turned to give the team a thumbs up. They moved to the next block, pausing again at the intersection. Korver looked up and spotted the welcome sign: Mayfair Drive. He looked to the west, seeing only a smattering of ghouls, then to the east where there were a few hundred or so congregating around a single building.

  He backed up, motioning for the others to look quickly before clustering around him to talk plans.

  “Can’t see the building numbers from here,” Galindo said quietly, “but I’m going to guess that’s our place.”

  Barr shook her head in disbelief. “No way we’re fighting through all of them.”

  “I agree,” Korver said. “We’re going to have to get a diversion going.” He looked around and then honed in on Bartlett and Sellers. “I know this is a shit detail, but we need those things out of the way. Can you two handle it?”

  The duo exchanged a fist bump with each other and nodded.

  “We’ll make it happen, Corporal,” Sellers promised.

  Korver nodded. “Good,” he said. “This street is pretty clear, and it looks like it runs into the tail end of the field. You should be able to lure them down and escape around it. If you get good enough distance between you, retreat back to the house and we’ll meet you there once we get the survivors out.”

  “What are we going to do?” Galindo asked.

  Korver pointed to the building on the other side of the street. It was a small cafe with the side door dangling open.

  The Private rolled his eyes. “Oh good, get a quick snack before launching a suicide run,” he joked. “Love it.”

  “You two get moving,” the Corporal said, motioning to Sellers and Bartlett. “Be safe.”

  They nodded as the others headed over to the cafe, drawing all the shades shut and securing the door.

  “Well, how do you want to do this?” Bartlett asked, turning to her partner.

  Sellers peered down the street to the horde. “They’re pretty densely packed,” he mused. “Shouldn’t take more than a few shots to get them pulling in our direction.” He looked towards the field, staring at the four zombies a couple blocks up, spread out fairly well. “I tell you what, if you want to handle getting them moving, I’ll take out the ones in our way to the field.”

  “How much lead time do you need?” Bartlett asked.

  He shrugged. “Give me two minutes, and start firing,” he said.

  She nodded and both of them readied their weapons. He was the first out of hiding, staying close to the wall to minimize exposure. He started with a brisk walk, keeping his footsteps light, before breaking into a full sprint on the next block.

  The first zombie he encountered barely had time to turn around before getting a knife to the skull. He quickly tossed it aside and walked over to the next one, which had begun shambling in his direction.

  “Three more, easy,” he murmured, and lunged over to deal with the stragglers.

  Meanwhile, Bartlett came out of hiding, slowly walking up towards the zombie mass in front of the building. As she grew closer, she appraised the massive group, stretching back twenty yards from the double door entrance.

  Bartlett took a few deep breaths, tamping down the fear, and prepared to fire. She aimed towards the center of the mass, centering on a gnarly mop of blood-splattered blonde. She fired single bursts. She didn’t pay attention to whether she was hitting anything, despite taking down a few corpses it wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of the horde.

  After the second shot, dozens of ghouls turned towards her, moaning and shambling in her direction, arms outstretched. By the fifth shot, most of the horde had her in their rheumy sights. By the tenth shot, she was the most popular girl to ever set foot on campus.

  The front line of the horde reached twenty yards from her, and she jumped up, looking over their heads to make sure most of the creatures had pulled away from the door. Knowing she couldn’t do much else, she retreated down the street, moving at a pace equal to the ghouls so they didn’t lose interest.

  As she walked, she watched Sellers deftly take out a
few zombies with his knife, stabbing skulls and tossing corpses aside. A few more staggered out from a side street, and he dispatched them easily before turning back towards his partner.

  “Damn, looks like you got their attention,” he declared.

  Bartlett raised her forefinger and pinky, shooting him a rock on. “That’s an understatement,” she replied smoothly. “And just like the crackhead at the gas station, I’d like to keep my distance from them, so let’s get moving.”

  The duo began their stroll towards the field, and when they reached the grass, they stared out at the landscape. There were dozens of zombies, easily in the low hundreds, spread out across the green space, some of which were coming their way.

  Both soldiers stiffened, but relaxed a touch when they realized the fencing was still up and intact.

  “So, how soon until we start running?” Sellers asked.

  Bartlett glanced over her shoulder at the horde, gauging them about fifteen yards away from the edge of the grass.”I say as soon as the first footsteps off the pavement, we haul ass.”

  “Wanna place a friendly wager on who makes it to the house first?” Sellers asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  She barked a laugh. “I’ve seen you run,” she scoffed. “Just wouldn’t feel right taking money from a cripple.”

  He simply smirked as they waited, and as soon as the first ghoul stepped foot on the grass, they took off like a shot towards the rally point.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The four soldiers prepared to leave the cafe, as Galindo crammed a fistful of chips in his mouth. Barr laughed, shaking her head at the mangy soldier.

  “Okay, looks like Bartlett was able to get most of them away from the door,” Korver murmured, watching out the window as the last few stragglers wandered past. “Chances are there are going to be more in the lobby. Take them out silently, but be prepared to be loud if need be.”