Dead America: Operation Bismarck (Dead America - The First Week Book 4)

by Derek Slaton

  “Before I took over the farm I was a big city girl, remember?” Emily asked, eyes brightening with excitement at his interest. “The company I worked for had a huge contract with the city government for vehicle maintenance, and guess who handled all the scheduling for pickups and drop-offs? Don’t know if they’re all running or not, but I’m sure we can scrounge up a mechanic or two.”

  “All right,” Mr. Wainwright said slowly, pursing his lips in thought for a beat. “We have an idea of what we’re doing. Now we’re just gonna need the manpower to pull it off.”

  “I think the two ranches north of my property were either abandoned or got hit with the sickness,” Emily replied.

  He turned his head to the door. “Susanna!” he called. “Can you come here for a minute, please?”

  She entered the dining room with curious eyes. “Yes, Pop?”

  “Are you still friendly with that boy down at the Prime Dude Ranch?” Mr. Wainwright asked.

  Zack made a noise of disapproval. “The Eldons? But they-”

  “I know that they did, boy,” his father snapped. “But these are desperate times.”

  Susanna waited for her brother to sink into his chair. “Yes, Pop,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “His name is Myles. We’re still on good terms.”

  Mr. Wainwright took a deep breath, seemingly uncomfortable with his daughter being on good terms with a Dude Ranch cowboy, but followed his own ‘desperate times’ advice. “I want you to head over there and see how many you can recruit to our case,” he instructed. “They don’t shut down to tourists until the end of the month, so there should be a good number of their staff there.”

  “Myles said they had several people come down with the sickness, but they were able to contain it,” Susanna said. “A lot of those boys are from out of town and come in for seasonal work so they live there. They probably got thirty or forty people over there.”

  “I’m sure even with Myles in your corner, Mr. Eldon’s gonna have an issue since you’re a Wainwright,” her father mused. “When he gets going, just let him do his little bitch and moan dance for a couple of minutes, then tell him if he helps us I’ll consider our land dispute finished in his favor.

  “Now, I don’t know if that’s going to do a whole lot, given the whole end of the world thing we have going on. I’m hopeful though he’s just petty enough to think getting one over on me is worth it.”

  “All right, Pop, I’ll go right now,” Susanna replied.

  He put up a hand. “Take Chad with you.”

  “I don’t need an escort,” she declared hotly.

  Mr. Wainwright raised his chin and looked affectionately at his daughter. “Susanna, you’re my baby girl, and I know you can whoop everybody’s ass in this room.” His gaze hardened. “But it ain’t about that. It’s dark, it’s snowing, and there are undead cannibals roaming around. So nobody goes out alone. And then he can fill you in on the situation on the way.”

  She nodded in defeat and turned to her brother. “I’m driving, though.”

  “Works for me, sis,” Chad replied, putting up his hands. “Means I can focus on my coffee instead of the road.” He led her out of the room.

  Mrs. Wainwright stood. “I’m gonna go check on the youngins,” she said. “If y’all need more coffee, just give me a holler.” She shared a smile with her husband, and he winked at her before she chuckled and left the room.

  “So, I guess that leaves us to plan this thing, huh?” Emily piped up.

  Mr. Wainwright nodded. “Yes ma’am, it does.” He turned to his remaining son. “Zach.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Go into my office and look in the bottom right drawer of my desk,” his father instructed. “There’s gonna be a bunch of old maps in there. I want you to look through and find one that has a detailed layout of the city and bring it here. Grab some pencils while you’re at it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zach replied, and headed to the office.

  Emily pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I can’t get us directions because the cell service is down, but I can pull us up a current map,” she said as she swiped around the screen.

  “Well, I’m a little more analog,” Mr. Wainwright admitted with a chuckle. “Plus when we explain the plan, it’s gonna be a little hard to get that many people around your phone.”

  Emily sighed. “Here’s hoping you’re right,” she said, and raised her coffee mug. They clinked glasses, praying that space would be an issue when Susanna returned.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Susanna pulled up to a stop in front of the Prime Dude Ranch, its large ornate gate extending a good twenty yards in either direction before turning into a standard barbed wire fence. There were two cowboys standing guard with shotguns in their hands, and one raised a hand in greeting as the young woman rolled down her window.

  “Ma’am, sir, can we help you?” The cowboy asked as he shone his flashlight into the cab.

  Susanna nodded. “We’re here to see Myles and Mr. Eldon,” she replied.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Eldon isn’t receiving visitors so you’ll have to come back tom-”

  “Listen, you rent-a-cowboy motherfucker,” she cut in, eyes darkening. “Open this goddamn gate right now before I get out of this truck, whoop both your asses, and open it myself.”

  Her visceral onslaught of profanities stunned the young man, and he looked to Chad, who calmly took a sip from his still-hot travel mug.

  “You might want to do what she wants, Bucko,” the passenger said brightly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  The cowboy took a deep breath and looked back at Susanna, whose eyes seemed to be calculating a countdown to kick-ass time.

  He raised his hand. “Let’s open it up!” he said, and his partner unlatched the gate.

  The young woman immediately punched the accelerator, speeding off down the driveway, amused as she kicked up muddy snow at the two guards.

  Chad raised an eyebrow and slurped at his coffee again. “Good to know that summer at finishing school wasn’t wasted on you.”

  “Oh, I can curtsey like a motherfucker,” she replied with a sly grin. “It’s my victory pose after kicking someone’s ass.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle as they pulled up to the house. It was a three-story building with two bunk houses to the left, marking the center of the large compound. A young man emerged onto the front porch as they approached, dressed in typical rancher gear with a six-shooter holstered on his hip.

  His slender face broke out into a boyish smile and he ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair when Susanna emerged from the driver’s seat. “The guards just radioed in that some crazy woman threatened to beat them down and she was headed to the house,” Myles declared as he descended the porch steps. “I had a feeling it might be you.”

  She gave him a tight hug and then stepped back so that Chad could shake his hand.

  “Well, we have a bit of an urgent situation on our hands, and didn’t have time for pleasantries,” she replied.

  “Any chance you can go get your boss for us?” Chad asked.

  Myles nodded. “Yeah, come on in out of the cold, I’ll go get him.” He waved for them to follow him inside.

  There were a dozen civilian city folk huddled around a kerosene heater in the main room, looking like they’d been in shock since the apocalypse happened. The Prime Dude Ranch was a bit of a tourist attraction, for townies to come learn what it’s like to live out in the country. That group must have been their clients when the end of the world happened.

  “Y’all wait here,” Myles said, “I’ll go get Mr. Eldon.”

  “It’s gotta be hell for them,” Chad murmured as he followed his sister’s gaze to the city folk. “Stuck out here with their loved ones back in the city and no way to contact them. I don’t know how they handle it.”

  “I’ve found that alcohol helps a great deal,” a man broke away from the huddle and approached them. “Sorry for ea
vesdropping. I was just trying to focus on something other than the sobbing of my city brethren.”

  “It’s all good, mister,” Chad assured him.

  The man extended his hand. “I’m Ernest.”

  “Chad,” the young man replied, shaking his hand, “and this is my sister Susanna.”

  “Ma’am,” Ernest greeted.

  She shook as well. “Sir.”

  “I picked a hell of a time to come out here late, didn’t I?” He laughed bitterly. “Usually make this trip in the summer, but for some reason I decided to take up basketball. Six weeks in, and an air cast later, and this is the only week they had left open.”

  “Forgive me for saying, sir,” Susanna began politely, “but you don’t really strike me as the country type.” She raised an eyebrow.

  Ernest nodded. “Well, for most of my life you’d be right,” he admitted. “I grew up in Chicago and pretty much never left the city except for a few weekend trips to Vegas. Then five years ago, a buddy of mine gave me a gag gift, a week at a Dude Ranch. I called his bluff and used it, and it’s been an annual tradition ever since. Guess deep down I’m really a country boy at heart.”

  “Well, sir, it’s a pleasure to have you out here,” Chad replied, “but I’m sorry you had to leave your hometown.”

  “Hell, I’m not,” Ernest said, putting his hands up and shaking his head. “I saw the news before the TV went out. If I was back home, I wouldn’t be alive.”

  “Chad and Susanna Wainwright,” a husky male voice broke the somber moon with a bucketload of condescension. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Susanna turned to face the tall bald man with the tight white beard. “Mr. Eldon,” she said, “we’re here because we need your help.”

  Her mouth snapped shut as he barked an incredulous laugh. “That’s rich!” he guffawed, catching his breath. “That old bastard Wainwright sending his kids over to my house to ask for my help? After the stunt he pulled, stealing my land? What, did he think that just because you’re getting all lovey dovey with one of my top men that somehow I’d go along with it?”

  Susanna opened her mouth, but Chad touched her arm, a wordless reminder of her father’s advice to let Mr. Eldon throw his tantrum.

  “Glenn, can you believe the balls on him?” The older man turned to his middle-aged companion with tanned leathery skin.

  Glenn shook his head. “No, sir, Mr. Eldon, I don’t believe I can,” he agreed, and the two of them shared another round of cackling.

  “All right, all right,” the older man finally said. “Just to satisfy my own curiosity, what favor did y’all need from me? I like to know what I’m rejecting.”

  The Wainwright siblings looked at each other, and Susanna finally motioned for Chad to speak. Her annoyance was boiling too hot—she didn’t want to ruin their chances.

  “We need as many men as you can spare,” Chad said. “We’re going into Bismarck to block off the bridges across the Missouri so those things can’t get over to us.”

  Mr. Eldon and Glenn shared an incredulous glance before the older man shook his head in disbelief. “You know, Chad, Susanna, I want to apologize for laughing at your old man there. It’s just not polite to make fun of the mentally ill like that.”

  Susanna bristled. “Listen you son of a bi-”

  “What my sister is trying to say,” Chad cut in, “in so many words, is that we have an opportunity to protect our community and we have to do it now. And if you agree to help us, our father is willing to end the land dispute. In your favor.”

  Mr. Eldon cocked an eyebrow. “Entirely in my favor?”

  “Yes, sir,” Chad replied.

  The older man pursed his lips, mulling it over, stroking the feather-light hairs on his chin as he did so. “Glenn, how many people we have on staff who could be useful?”

  “Not sure who all is left,” his companion replied with a shrug, “but probably about forty, forty-five able bodied people.”

  “All right, pick the five best men you have outside of you and Myles,” Mr. Eldon instructed. “Have them stay behind to guard the homestead. The rest of us are gonna take a ride and hear what Mr. Wainwright has to say.”

  “If y’all give me a minute I’ll grab my things and join you,” Ernest piped up.

  Glenn narrowed his eyes. “This don’t concern you, city boy.”

  “Oh, it doesn’t?” Ernest squared his shoulders. “Last time I checked, I’m stuck here just like you are. Whether you like it or not, this is my home too, for the foreseeable future.”

  His opponent sneered. “In that case, you should just sit back and enjoy our hospitality while the adults go out and handle the business.”

  “Listen, you hillbilly bumpkin,” Ernest snarled, “I know math isn’t your strong suit since you got kicked out of the third grade after your kid got promoted to fourth. But let me lay it out for you in simple terms. There’s fifty of you, and fifty-thousand of them. You need all the help you can get.”

  Glenn stepped forward, towering over the city boy with his broad shoulders. Chad took a step forward but Ernest put out a hand to motion for him to stay back, standing his own ground.

  “All right, I’ve had about enough of your shit, city boy,” the leathery-skinned farm hand growled. “We’re going to war and we need men who can shoot. Not pencil pushers who wanna hide in an office and come play cowboy on the weekend.”

  “Fair enough,” Ernest replied, putting up his hands. “Let me shoot for you. I prove my worth, you drop the attitude. I hit nothing but air, I go back to sipping coffee by the fire with no complaints. Good enough for you?”

  Glenn grinned and snatched his walkie talkie from his belt. “Front gate, come in,” he said into the mouthpiece.

  There was a crackle before the reply, “Go for front gate.”

  “You boys got any live ones out there?” the middle-aged farm hand asked.

  “Yes, sir, we got a batch of them on the east side of the property,” came the reply. “We were just about to head over.”

  Glenn grinned. “Stand down boys, I’ll take care of it.” He motioned to his coworker that hovered near Susanna. “Myles, take city boy here to the armory and let him get whatever he wants.”

  “No need,” Ernest replied with a grin of his own, “I have a gun in my room. Just gonna take me a few minutes to get it ready.”

  Myles looked to Mr. Eldon, who had simply watched the entire scene unfold with amusement in his eyes. The older man gave a slight nod of approval and Myles clapped Ernest on the shoulder.

  “All right, let’s go grab it,” he said, and followed the city boy to his room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Well I’ll be damned, Emily was right,” Chad breathed as he watched the half-dozen zombies struggling lazily in the barbed wire. “Those things aren’t moving very fast.”

  “Hell, I’m slowing down and I have a jacket on,” Susanna added. “Can’t imagine those dress clothes are providing much coverage.”

  “Fast, slow, I don’t really care,” Glenn huffed. “I’ll blow their heads off regardless.”

  He turned as Myles drove up in his pickup, parked, and hopped out. Ernest slid from the passenger’s side and reached behind the seat to grab his gun.

  “All right, city boy,” Glenn drawled. “Let’s see what you got.”

  Ernest slid out a twenty-two repeater rifle and approached them, the bright silver glinting in the early morning sun.

  Their escort let out a deep belly laugh at the sight of it. “Oh my god, city boy, are you serious? A twenty-two lever action repeater? Who the fuck do you think you are, Richard Boone?”

  “Richard Boone was Paladin on Have Gun Will Travel,” Ernest replied, voice completely level and calm as he joined the group. “The man who made this gun famous was Chuck Connors in The Rifleman. If you’re going to attempt to insult me, at least get the name right.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Richard Boone, Chuck Connors, don’t matter, you’re still a pussy for u
sing a twenty-two,” Glenn replied, waving him off. “Now see, you need to man up and get you one of these.” He slung his gun from his back and took aim. “Remington bolt action hunting rifle. Watch what this baby does.” He squeezed the trigger, releasing a thunderous clap that resulted in a zombie head exploding in a display of crimson. “Whoo! That was awesome. That’s what a man’s gun can do. Let’s see your pussy twenty-two do that!”

  “That is an impressive weapon,” Ernest said. “How many rounds does it hold?”

  Glenn puffed his chest out. “Got a capacity of four.”

  “I will say, that was a hell of a display there,” the city native admitted. “I was wondering if you could show me that one more time. Oh, and could you reload it too?”

  The farm hand narrowed his eyes in suspicion, taking in Ernest’s calm and innocent expression. “All right city boy, I’ll show you one more time.” He removed two rounds from his gun, and Ernest stepped closer to Susanna and tapped the watch on her wrist.

  “That’s really nice,” he said with a smile. “Does it happen to have a stopwatch on it?”

  She raised her wrist to look at it. “Yeah, I believe it does.”

  “Would you be so kind as to tally how long it takes our friend here to shoot and reload?” Ernest asked sweetly.

  She raised an eyebrow and gave him an amused smile, nodding in agreement and setting her watch.

  “All right, city boy, watch close,” Glenn warned. He aimed, and fired, taking off another zombie head. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of rounds, rapidly putting them one by one into the gun before slamming the bolt back into position.

  “And time,” Ernest declared.

  Glenn furrowed his brow in confusion as he turned to look at them. “And what?”

  “It took you eight and a half seconds to fire that last round and reload,” Susanna replied.

  “Hell, that’s pretty good if you ask me,” the farm hand said with a haughty look. “Especially out here in the snow.”