Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 7 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 5]

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Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 7 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 5] Page 4

by Slaton, Derek


  She scanned the outer edge of the building, seeing a loading bay door near the back that was partially opened. While it was no more than a couple feet open, she figured it was large enough for her to squeeze through.

  But what if the survivors inside used that as their escape? What if there’s nobody inside? Doubt crept in, despite how hard she tried not to let it, and she clenched a fist, chewing her lip. Even so, I have to get in there, she thought firmly. If the post has been abandoned, maybe there is still a comm station still set up. I can let them know I’m here, and they can come get me.

  Watts slung her rifle back over her shoulder and moved out, jogging just inside the treeline for cover. Finally she was parallel with the loading dock door in the back. She checked both ways, making sure the coast was clear. And it was.

  She walked over, not wanting to put extra strain on her knee, before sliding underneath the door. She quickly stood up, drawing her weapons once again and straining her senses.

  The warehouse didn’t allow in much natural light, with only the skylights around the top of the building. There were several artificial lights set up still, however, making the room nice and bright.

  She reached the edge of the loading dock door, looking out into the main area. The place was totally abandoned, at least from the living. There were several zombies still roaming about, most of them near the front door, a few near the lights. She continued to scan, finally laying eyes on the communications table.

  She pulled out her rifle, looking over at the table through her scope, seeing trouble. The laptop with the satellite uplink had a cracked screen and was lying on its side, several wires strewn about.

  Shit, she thought. Most likely, that computer wasn’t going to work. She lowered the rifle, unsure of her next move. So now what? Come on Janey, you gotta figure this out. Think.

  She took in a deep breath and then squinted when she noticed one of the zombies was wearing military gear. Her blood rushed in her ears at the sight of a runner, but then her brain tuned in, remembering that some of the promoted men were issued walkie-talkies that could stretch for several miles.

  Watts raised the rifle again, looking at each zombie through the scope. The first few runners had nothing on them, except for tattered bloodied fatigues. She kept looking, heart rate spiking with each count of yet another fast zombie, and then finally found one near the front door wearing a packed utility vest. On the front of it was a walkie-talkie, clear as day.

  Unfortunately, the creature was surrounded by a dozen other ghouls, as well as two runners between her and it.

  How the hell are you doing this one, Janey? She chewed her lip. Those things are runners! If I can hit the two closest to me, it will clear the way for the other one to get to me. Those shamblers will take time to get here, and I can be gone before they do… She nodded to herself, though fear pumped through her like a rushing river.

  It was risky, and dangerous, and crazy. But it was the only idea she had. She raised the rifle and took aim at the runner closest to her.

  Just like when you were hunting, she thought to herself. Deep breath, squeeze the trigger. You got this.

  She lined up her shot at the temple of the former soldier and squeezed the trigger. The resounding BOOM echoed throughout the cavernous warehouse, sending the zombies inside into a rage. The bullet found its target, however, eviscerating the runner’s skull.

  She quickly adjusted her aim towards the other one, which was now sprinting towards her. It was hard to get a read on it as it was close, within thirty yards, and moving quickly. She abandoned the plan to snipe it and instead hopped up off of the ground and braced herself.

  As it got closer, she drew her handgun and fired rapidly. The third shot found its target, and the zombie flopped forward, sliding along the ground to a stop just a few yards from her.

  Rapid footsteps echoed, along with a rabid moan. The other runner, the one with the radio, was closing in. She waited until it was within ten yards to fire, not wanting to risk a bad shot striking the radio.

  The first bullet missed low, hitting it in the throat. She screamed as it got closer, firing again, and this time hit it in the eye. Watts darted forward to catch it, breaking its fall so that it didn’t crush the walkie-talkie, whimpering at the strain on her knee in the process.

  She set it down and rolled it over, grabbing the radio and pocketing it. She patted down the rest of him, finding another magazine for her handgun. She wanted to keep looking, check the other bodies, but the rest of the slow ghouls were getting too close for comfort.

  Watts broke from her position and made her way back to the open door on the dock, sliding back out into the open area. She moved away from the building, pausing in the field beside it to consult the satellite image. The command center was at the far end of it, with only a tiny bit of space just to the east of it visible. It appeared to be wooded, but there were two roads going into it.

  “Gotta be a residential area,” she muttered, heart still pounding. She glanced back at the warehouse, seeing zombie feet at the dock. Past that, towards the front, were several more ghouls outside of the barrier that were starting to come her way. “Anyplace is better than here,” she huffed, shaking her head. “Get moving, Janey.”

  She turned and hobbled off towards the residential area, hoping for the best, deep in disbelief that she’d killed three runners and secured her radio.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Watts broke into a nearby house a few blocks east of the command center, stepping over the busted For Sale sign on the front lawn. Inside, it was completely empty, devoid of all furniture, but she did a quick sweep just in case of stray deceased real estate agents shambling around.

  Once clear, she sat on the floor in the living room with her back to the wall, sighing with relief and easing the pressure on her leg, and pulled out the walkie-talkie. She flicked it on, turning the channel dial to the first one and raising the device to her lips.

  “This is Private Watts,” she said clearly, “I need help, can anybody hear me?”

  She waited a few moments for a response and then switched to the next channel.

  “This is Private Watts,” she repeated, “I need help, can anybody hear me?”

  After six channels with no response, despair began to knot in her belly. This had been her last hope, her last-ditch attempt at surviving, getting out of here.

  What if there’s been a full retreat? Or worse… what if they’ve been overwhelmed? The dark thoughts swirled in her mind, and she shook her head hard, as if to knock them loose. She continued through the channels, firmly repeating her message.

  “This is Private Watts, I need help, can anybody hear me?” She pressed the radio to her forehead, closing her eyes, silently praying for someone, anyone.

  “Private Watts,” a firm voice snapped, “this is a command channel. Please get off this line and switch to your designated unit channel.”

  She nearly dropped the walkie talkie as she fumbled to get it to her mouth. “Please wait!” she cried, the words gushing out of her like vomit. “My unit, they’re all gone. I need an evac. Please, this is an emergency!”

  There was a moment of silence, and then the soldier replied, “Please hold.”

  Watts trembled as she stared at the radio, shellshocked at having heard another human voice, willing herself not to panic. Please, please let them help me, she prayed, hoping that they could—or would—do something for her.

  “Private Watts,” a no-nonsense voice barked, “this is Captain O’Neil. Would you mind telling me why the hell you are on my channel?”

  She immediately pressed the button, steadying her voice. “Captain, my unit was completely overwhelmed this morning,” she explained quickly. “We had a runner outbreak and… and I was the only survivor. I need an evac.”

  “What’s your position, Private?” O’Neil asked sharply.

  Watts staggered to her feet, looking around frantically, and then noticed a stack of real estate fliers on the kitchen c
ounter. “I’m at seven forty-two Greenbrook Lane,” she replied.

  To her surprise, the Captain chuckled. “My GPS is in the shop,” he said, sounding amused. “Why don’t you walk me through your day, and we’ll see if we can’t figure out where you are.”

  Her heart soared with hope. This man seemed to really want to help her.

  “Okay, Captain,” she said. “My unit was in the northern part of Kenmore when we were hit. Once I escaped, I tried going back to the command center, but it was abandoned and-”

  “Command center?” he cut in. “Soldier, where are you?”

  Watts blinked a few times, and then replied, “Sir, I am a few blocks to the east of the Kenmore command center.”

  “Soldier, you need to get out of there right now,” O’Neil said rapidly, his tone panicked.

  She shook her head. “Captain, there are zombies everywhere,” she replied.

  “Not for long there isn’t,” the Captain replied gravely.

  Watts swallowed hard, cold dread sinking over her. “Captain,” she said hoarsely, “what’s going on?”

  “No time to talk now,” O’Neil snapped. “You need to get south of the highway and do it now! There is an airstrike coming in minutes!”

  She gaped at the radio, eyes wide as saucers. “But I… where… where do I go?”

  “Keep it together, Private!” the Captain barked. “You get south of the highway into the residential area. There is a golf course half a mile to the south, southwest of the command center. Get there and I’ll fill you in further. Now move!”

  Watts shook, taking in a deep, ragged breath and trying to push the panic out of her body. “Yes, sir,” she replied, and shoved the walkie talkie into her pocket. She hobbled over to the front window of the house, seeing a handful of zombies on the road.

  Scanning the area, she spotted a side street running south towards the highway. She nodded firmly to herself, and slung her rifle over her shoulder, readying her hand weapons.

  I’d been looking forward to a rest, but looks like it’s gonna have to wait, she thought to herself. Come on Janey, you’re almost there.

  She burst out the front door and ran as hard as she could. Her knee screamed, and every once in a while she had to do a bit of a hop when she just couldn’t take the spike of pain shooting up her thigh like lightning.

  But she pushed through it. Pain or die, pain or die, she reminded herself, the words in time with her strides.

  The zombies on the road immediately began their pursuit, but she didn’t have time to worry about them. She made it to the side street and began heading south, seeing even more zombies in front of her leading up to the highway half a mile or so ahead.

  She looked down the side streets as she moved, and ghouls were everywhere. Picking a different path wasn’t a viable option. The zombies, while numerous, were somewhat spread out, with a couple of yards in between packs.

  It’s either risk getting eaten or for sure get blown up, she urged herself. Keep moving, Janey!

  Watts kept pushing, getting close to the first few zombies on the road. She looked past them towards the highway, and the slight incline up to it was jam-packed with creatures. She swallowed hard, chest heaving, seriously doubting about how she was going to make it across.

  The first few monsters were facing the other way and didn’t see her until she blew past them. As soon as she did, however, they moaned and reached for her, alerting other nearby zombies.

  She kept moving, knee singing, darting between groups, and trying to keep her distance from the rotted hands clawing for her.

  She made it through a block of them, only three blocks from the highway, and encountered a line of ghouls blocking her path.

  She did the only thing that she could do. She raised her handgun and fired, hitting a zombie in the face and knocking it to the ground. She picked up as much steam as she could and burst through the line, clearing the ghouls with her body, but not her rifle.

  A zombie gripped her rifle barrel with a death grip, and she struggled with it for a moment, trying to wrench the gun free. With the others closing in quickly, she grunted and slipped out of the strap, leaving the weapon behind and continuing to move forward.

  When Watts was within a block of the highway, she saw there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to make it across. The road was a sea of corpses, shoulder-to-shoulder.

  Think, girl, she thought frantically, there has to be a way to get across.

  She put a hand to her forehead, leaning on her good leg to give her bad knee a brief rest as she contemplated.

  Underpass! But which way? She looked back and forth, chewing her bottom lip. I have to backtrack to the west anyway… might as well make it one trip.

  Watts ran up the final side street before the highway frontage road, relieved to see that the zombie population was manageable there. She got up to the next intersection and looked towards the highway, relieved to see that there was an underpass leading to the southern portion of town. She was less relieved to see that there were numerous zombies standing between her and her destination.

  She didn’t pause, didn’t think, just pumped her tired, pain-filled legs. The frontage road had several packs of ghouls, but a narrow path through them.

  The underpass was another story.

  Running forty yards and shrouded in shadow, there were easily a hundred zombies packed in there. The road was buried under a sea of rotted flesh, and her heart rate tripled just looking at it.

  On the left side, she spotted a narrow elevated pedestrian walkway, presumably put there due to the underpass being a drainage location. There were only a few zombies dotting it, given that stairs were their natural enemy.

  Watts made her way to the stairs, quickly hopping up as several grey arms reached for her, narrowly missing her arm. The first ghoul on the walkway was ten yards away and immediately turned towards her as she crested the staircase.

  Due to the narrow walkway, the creatures were in single file, which would make it easy for them to be dealt with. The first one received a decisive blow to the face with her knife. She shoved it aside, flipping it over the railing to the zombies below, turning it into an undead crowd surfer.

  The next two fell just as easily, however during the battle the entirety of the zombie population in the underpass had been drawn to her side. She quickly moved to the end of the walkway, seeing a few ghouls standing at the bottom of the stairwell, with the others just to the side and well within reach.

  Watts paused at the top of the stairs, aiming down with her handgun and opening fire. She pulled the trigger as quickly as she could, sending several rounds into multiple monsters, clearing her a narrow pathway back to the daylight.

  She pinned herself as close to the wall as she could while racing down the stairs, skipping a few as she went, trying to use mostly her good leg for landing. The arms reaching through the handrails grazed her arm as she went by, but she managed to hit the ground and move away.

  A few steps later she was out of the nightmare tunnel and to the south of the highway, a symphony of moans coming from inside as well as above. Across from the highway was another small stretch of houses, as well as a small waterway.

  When she reached the houses, she slowed right down, cautiously moving between them, and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw there were no creatures between her and the water.

  No time to try and find a bridge, she thought quickly, I have to get across now!

  She raced to the water, pushing through thick tall grass and reaching the river. While still in knee-deep current, she looked to either side, hoping to find some sort of boat, but there was nothing, not even an inflatable inner tube.

  “Guess I’m swimming,” she grunted, and then dove forward into the water. She began to paddle, but after a moment, the weight of her gear combined with the pain and exhaustion of the day began to set in, so she flipped over onto her back.

  She floated gently, using her arms to propel her backwards
across the water. Thankfully, the current was minimal, so she wasn’t going too far to the west.

  She couldn’t help but enjoy the coolness of the water combined with the warm sun on her face, a rare moment of peace and almost relaxation.

  This was broken, however, by splashes coming from the other bank.

  Watts quickly flipped back over, seeing she was ten yards from the shore. There were two zombies in the water, falling face first into it as they struggled to navigate the mud to get to their floating meal.

  She pulled her gun, struggling to stay afloat while still inching herself forward. Five yards from the first zombie, she tried to aim while bobbing in the water, and pulled the trigger. Much to her surprise, her aim was on point, striking the creature in the head and sending it splashing to a watery grave.

  The other zombie continued to push out into the water, and she continued her aim, waiting until it was within two yards to pull the trigger. The near point-blank shot found its target, sending the second threat washing away in the river.

  Watts managed to pull herself out, breathing heavily on the southern bank. The break was short-lived as high-pitched humming rose in the distance, getting louder and louder.

  “The attack!” she gasped, and hauled herself to her feet, racing south as fast as her legs would allow. The sound continued to grow in volume even as she reached a block away from the water.

  She knew she only had seconds, and found the first house she could, shooting out the back patio door and rushing inside. There was a zombie in the living room, but she ran past it, straight to a back bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

  It was thankfully free of ghouls, and she dove for the closet, shutting herself inside it for cover.

  The sound of the missiles whistled overhead as they passed, and a moment later there was a cacophony of explosions to the north. Half a dozen, maybe more. It was too difficult to tell, but it was more than enough to shake the foundation of the house, shattering the windows in the bedroom.

 

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