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

by Slaton, Derek

  “Hold that thought, Corporal,” Ibarra said quietly.

  Korver’s brow furrowed in annoyance, but closed his mouth when the Private pulled out another block of C4 and set it by a tree.

  “Once we get inside,” Ibarra said as he stood up, “wouldn’t hurt to have something else for them to focus on.”

  The Corporal nodded. “Good call.”

  After the bomb was set, the group headed out, running straight for the building while fanned out and staggered, five in the front line, four in the back. The run wasn’t a straight shot, several zombies attempting to stagger into their path. They didn’t bother to go for the kill, simply shoving them out of the way to keep moving.

  After some ducking and diving, the group reached the parking garage, which went under the building. Korver and Galindo squeezed off a few rounds to pick off the zombies by the entrance. The group ducked inside, the lead two pulling out flashlights and aiming with their guns.

  They did a quick sweep of the lot, seeing a handful of vehicles as well as a few zombies, quickly dispatching them with bullets to the face.

  “Get that door shut and get our distraction going,” Korver called.

  The others turned their attention to the door, while the Corporal and Galindo cleared the room. THe gunfire echoed against the concrete walls as they pulled down the door, watching as the few dozen zombies caught up to them.

  Ibarra hit the detonator, and the explosion rattled the building. A few moments passed, and they looked outside, watching as the bulk of the zombies wandered off towards it.

  “Come on, let’s get upstairs,” Korver suggested.

  They found the stairwell that led up, and the Corporal took great care to open it extra slowly, learning from the last time. Thankfully, this stairwell was empty.

  The group worked their way up floor by floor, checking to make sure that each door was secured. When they finally reached the fourth, they stopped and clustered around.

  “Let’s get in and clear the floor,” Korver said. “We’ll figure out our next move after that. Teams of two, move hard, move fast.”

  He turned as the group nodded, and threw open the door, allowing them all to pour inside. They broke off into duos, rushing through the cubicle farm in the center of a large open area. It was dark, with the only light coming from the exterior windows, but it was bright enough to show movement.

  “Contact, contact!” erupted from a few soldiers, and then gunfire echoed in the room.

  Bullets ripped through the dozen or so ghouls in the open area, dropping them quickly. Korver came in once everything was silent and surveyed the situation, watching as the rest of the teams quickly cleared the offices against the walls.

  After a minute, there was no more noise, and sporadic yells of “Clear!” He walked to the front window, facing the interstate. Soon, all nine of them stood there, staring silently at the sight before them.

  The building faced a long, straight stretch of highway, and from their view, they could see tens of thousands of zombies stretched as far as the eye could see. Several on ramps on either side of the road acted as bottlenecks for more ghouls joining the main horde. The creatures were still spaced out fairly well, three to four yards apart in most cases, with the occasional cluster.

  “Goddamn,” Galindo breathed, “there is nothing good going on here.”

  Barr shook her head emphatically. “How are the nine of us supposed to bunch these things up?”

  “You got anything in that big bag there, Ibarra?” Sellers asked, turning to the Private beside him.

  Ibarra wrinkled his nose. “I have some explosives, but nothing that’s going to do much good without a massive amount of sustained firepower supporting it.”

  “Which we don’t have,” Bartlett cut in dryly.

  Galindo nodded, rubbing his forehead. “I have maybe forty bullets left.”

  “Same,” Barr added.

  “I’m a little higher,” Benton piped up, “but it’s kind of a moot point. We’d need thousands just to group them up, let alone hold their interest.”

  Korver took a deep breath. “I’m open to suggestions,” he declared. “At the moment, the best plan I can come up with is to break the glass and start yelling like a bridesmaid at a Vegas bachelorette party. Which I’m going to assume isn’t going to be much of a success.”

  “I don’t know,” Galindo drawled, “I think the humor value alone on that puts it in the must try category.”

  Bartlett cocked her head. “Ibarra, you have anything else in that bag besides explosives?” he asked.

  He walked over to the desk, swiped everything off of it and set the duffel down. “Knock yourself out,” he said, stepping back and waving her over.

  Bartlett unzipped it and started pulling out the contents.

  Sellers gaped from over her shoulder. “You didn’t think a fifty-cal was worth mentioning?” he demanded.

  “I got one strand of bullets,” Ibarra said, shaking his head, “so no, it’s not gonna do a whole lot.”

  “What happened to the rest of the ammo?” Benton asked.

  Casey lowered his gaze. “The guys carrying it didn’t make it.”

  “Well why didn’t you say something when we were at the dorms?” Barr asked, crossing her arms. “Maybe we could have made a play for it!”

  Hartman shook his head. “They were in the stairwell.”

  There was a moment of tense silence, and then Galindo sighed.

  “Okay, so we have a hundred rounds of fifty-cal ammo,” he said. “That’s something at least.”

  Bartlett turned to the Corporal. “How much time do the Apaches need to get here?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, and pulled out his radio. “I’ll find out.” He headed off to call command, and Sellers raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh god,” he said as he eyed Bartlett, “you have an idea, don’t you?”

  Galindo’s brow furrowed. “Wait, that’s a bad thing?’ he asked.

  “Depends on who you ask,” Bartlett replied.

  “Yes” Sellers declared.

  She shook her head. “Don’t ask him.”

  “So what’s the idea, girl?” Barr asked, leaning on the desk.

  Bartlett licked her lips. “When we came in, there were a few SUVs in the lot downstairs,” she began. “We get a few of those, drive them onto the interstate, create a blockade, then use the fifty-cal to carve us out a hole big enough to get out. Get a little cover from the shooters up here, and it could work.”

  The group simply stared at her, blinking.

  “Told ya,” Sellers said dryly.

  Barr pushed off of the desk, shaking her head. “That’s um… bold,” she said.

  “I appreciate you thinking outside the box and all,” Hartman said slowly, “but those cars aren’t going to last very long with that size of a crowd. They’ll push through pretty quickly.”

  “Depending on what Corporal Korver has to say,” Bartlett replied, “it may be all we need.”

  Everybody turned and looked towards him as he finished up with the radio, turning towards them. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly curious as to why everyone was staring at him.

  “Um, what?” he asked.

  Galindo shrugged. “Oh nothing,” he drawled, “just waiting to see if we have to go on yet another suicide mission or not.”

  “How long on the helicopters?” Bartlett asked.

  Korver turned towards her. “Airfield to site flight time is fourteen minutes,” he replied. “However, if we can give them a small window, they can be on us in three.”

  Galindo sighed. “Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Did I miss something?” Korver asked, brow furrowing.

  “Come on over, Corporal,” Sellers groaned. “Bartlett has an idea.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind, Bartlett…” Korver said, shaking his head. “I like it.” He waved everyone over to the window. “Okay, here’s the plan,”
he began, motioning as he spoke. “Three vehicles, SUVs or trucks, whatever we can find down there. Use that exit ramp on the left and block off as much of the road as possible. Two man teams, one focuses on drawing the zombies in. One person targets the zombies on the left, the other two doing what they can to draw the ones from the other side of the road in. The other three will need to get things set up to escape. That means the fifty-cal.”

  “I can also rig up the rest of the C4,” Ibarra added, “get is small enough that you can throw it out to clear the way in case things get too hairy.”

  Galindo grimaced. “That sounds a little risky, doesn't it?’ he asked.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make them small enough that they won't kill you,” Ibarra assured him. “Your ears will probably be ringing for a week, but you’ll live.”

  Korver nodded. “You hold the line as long as possible,” he instructed. “That noise is going to draw those things from every direction and pull more in from the surface streets. With as fast as they’re moving, if we can hold them for ten minutes, it’ll be dense enough for a strike.”

  “We going off the clock for this one?” Galindo asked.

  The Corporal shook his head. “Ten minutes is the ideal,” he replied. “But as soon as the fifty-cal team calls it, then the mission is over. I’m not willing to sacrifice anyone for the sake of this. They’ll just have to live with what we can do. It’s an important mission, but anyone dying to buy an extra few seconds isn’t going to change a whole lot.”

  The other soldiers nodded in appreciation.

  “So who are the teams?” Galindo asked.

  Korver thought for a moment before responding. He didn’t want to choose who to send down, considering they might not be coming back.

  “Any volunteers to make the run?’ he asked.

  Every hand in the room shot up without hesitation, and the Corporal smiled.

  “Proud of everyone in this room,” he said sincerely. “But we still need to leave some people behind to cover.”

  Casey raised his hand. “I think Ibarra should stay up here.”

  “Fuck you,” Ibarra snapped, “I can fight.”

  His friend nodded. “I’m not saying you can’t,” he assured him. “But you’re the only one who can get those explosives just right. If those things start coming back down the interstate in big numbers, you might have to rig something up on the fly.”

  Ibarra wrinkled his nose, but nodded begrudgingly. “In that case, I want Hartman and Sellers to stay up here with me,” he said, pointing between the two soldiers. “Both of you look like you have good arms, so you can get that shit out to the masses.”

  “I can live with that,” Korver agreed. “Any objections?” When nobody said anything, he clapped his hands together. “Good. Let’s get down to the garage and get our rides.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the ground team had three large SUVs started up and ready to go. They were big behemoths, with sunroofs for that extra bit of protection to fire from.

  Casey and Barr got into one with the 50-cal. Korver and Benton took another, and Galindo and Barlett took the third.

  Ibarra stood between the vehicles. “So who is going to be my bomber?” he asked.

  “Right here,” Korver called, and held his arm out the window.

  Ibarra approached him and handed over a small bag. The Corporal looked inside and found six small blocks of C4, each with its own remote detonator on it.

  “These things are going to pack a bit of a wallop,” the Private explained, “so you can spread them out a bit. My suggestion is to run a trail down the exit ramp, so you can get back to the building.” He held up the detonator trigger. “This thing is set to proper frequency, and when you hit it, all of them are going to go off. So for the love of god, don’t have anything on you when you pull it.”

  Korver nodded. “Note,” he replied. “What about the ones you’re going to throw out?”

  “Different frequency,” Ibarra assured him. “So you don’t have to worry about it.”

  The Corporal cocked his head. “I’m going to keep an eye on you from the road,” he said. “If you see we’re about to get overwhelmed from those things retreating, give me a signal.”

  “Consider it done,” Ibarra replied.

  Korver grabbed his radio and held it out to him. “Frequency is dialed in,” he said. “As soon as we head out, call in the Apaches. I’ve given them the time window, so they’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Ibarra assured him.

  Korver nodded and smacked Benton on the shoulder. “Let’s get this done.”

  The Private hit the horn a few times, prompting Sellers and Hartman to approach the garage door. They looked outside, and gave a hand signal of four, letting the drivers know how many zombies were right outside.

  They threw open the door, and as soon as the light poured in, Benton hit the gas. He tore out of the garage, smacking into the four zombies, sending them flying. The two other vehicles were close behind, with the three of them quickly making the turn towards the interstate.

  Dozens of zombies spread out across the frontage road and parking lot, all of which immediately turned their attention towards the roaring vehicles.

  The on ramp was a quarter mile away, and they reached it quickly. There were a couple dozen ghouls staggering around, several of which were easily smacked aside as Benton led the convoy up.

  The interstate, however, was a different story, with hundreds of corpses in the immediate area, thousands more stretching in both directions. The majority at least was on the other side of the center barrier. The noise from the engines and squealing tires drew the attention of most of them.

  “Go south ten yards and park it,” Korver instructed.

  Benton smashed through several zombies, clearing a path through the hundred or so that were within twenty or so yards of the vehicles. He reached the concrete median and slowed down before crashing into it, crushing several ghouls right against it.

  “Smooth parking job, there,” the Corporal drawled.

  Benton shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  Korver didn’t respond, simply leapt out of the vehicle and raised his assault rifle. He picked targets close to him and started firing, dropping several in a matter of seconds. As he did this, the other two SUVs pulled up behind Benton, getting as close as they could. As soon as they stopped, Casey and Galindo jumped out of their passenger seats and opened fire.

  The fighting on the bridge was intense, with three soldiers unloading every shot they had to clear the immediate area. Thirty zombies dropped within a minute, creating a buffer zone for Casey and Galindo.

  “I’ll cover,” Korver barked, “get the fifty-cal up!”

  The duo grabbed the machine gun out of the back and immediately started setting it up. While they did this, Korver continued firing with his rifle, keeping the ten yard buffer zone side.

  Past that, however, hundreds of zombies slowly wandered back towards them, thickening up the mass.

  “Better hurry it up!” Korver barked.

  As he held the line for the duo, the other three soldiers in the SUVs popped up from the sunroofs and began firing. Bartlett, in the outer vehicle, shot at the zombies trying to walk around her. THe three vehicles were able to block off most of the road, but there was a good eight yards in the final lane and shoulder where they could pass on her side.

  She sprayed in three-round bursts, dropping several of them by the SUV, and keeping the others occupied by focusing on her. She turned to the southern force, which was overwhelming. She paused for a moment, in awe of the horrifying sight of thousands of ghouls all headed her way.

  “Keep shooting!” Barr screamed.

  Bartlett snapped out of her reverie and joined the other two in firing. Barr, in the middle vehicle, split her time between the ghouls on their side and helping Benton attract a crowd on the other side of the median. Within minutes, there were easily a thousand ghouls on the other side, pressing against t
he concrete and attempting to get at the soldiers.

  Finally, Galindo and Casey got the fifty-cal set up, loading in their single strand of a hundred rounds.

  “We’re hot!” the former bellowed, and Korver rushed back behind them.

  They opened fire, the bullets shredding the creatures within a few yards of them, ripping their bodies in half and sending limbs flying everywhere. They squeezed off about thirty rounds, spraying the immediate area and creating a good thirty yard buffer. The zombies, for the most part, weren’t dead, but they were cut in two, making them a non-threat for the time being.

  “Casey, you got this?” Korver asked, and received a thumbs up. “Good. Galindo, on me. We gotta get our retreat set.”

  The duo ran back towards the on ramp, where a few dozen ghouls roamed up. They stopped at the top and fired, picking their targets carefully and efficiently and dropping them.

  The Corporal pulled out some of the explosives and set one in the middle of the road before moving up another fifteen yards and setting another. They looked down to the bottom of the ramp, seeing about a hundred zombies massing together, slowly moving their way.

  “This is going to be tight,” Galindo said, shaking his head. “What’s our time?”

  Korver looked at his watch. “We still need seven minutes.”

  The Private shook his head again, knowing it was a long shot. He fired again as Korver started lobbing C4 down the on ramp.

  As the battle raged below, Ibarra, Sellers, and Hartman stood on the fourth floor, keeping an eye on things. The first two overlooked the fighting force, seeing that they were keeping the southern zombies at bay, and creating a traffic jam on the ones coming from the north.

  “They’re getting a hell of a crowd down there,” Sellers commented.

  Ibarra looked at his watch, seeing they were five minutes in. “Still have five more minutes to go, too.”

  “Hope they can hold out that long,” Sellers said.

  “Ibarra!” Hartman yelled. “You need to see this!”

  Ibarra clapped Sellers on the shoulder. “Stay here, keep watch,” he said, and rushed over to the side window running parallel with the interstate. As he reached it, he spotted a couple thousand zombies headed back towards the noise.