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

by Slaton, Derek

  As quickly as it had begun, the bombardment ended, filling the area with an eerie silence.

  She sat there in the closet, almost in shock, staring at a horrible leopard-print gown hanging in front of her.

  Banging on the closet door startled her, and she couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head.

  “Okay,” she said shakily, relief flooding her, “going to take this thing out, and then find out what the hell is going on.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Watts staggered to her feet, drew her knife, and then did a silent countdown before shoving the closet door open, throwing the zombie back onto the bed. It flailed around, tangling itself up in the flower-print bedspread, and she lunged forward, stabbing at its face.

  It flailed away, and she stabbed the mattress instead, cursing under her breath. It lashed out and grabbed her thigh on her bad leg, and she howled in pain at the death grip so close to her injury. She fell to her knees, and her eyes widened at the putrid face gnashing so close to her own. She instinctively stabbed upwards, the blade catching the ghoul in its cheek and coming out the other side.

  The knife missed its brain, as it continued to try to get to her, moans gurgled around metal. She grunted and put a hand on its forehead, holding it back as she tore the knife free and then jammed it forward into the zombie’s eye socket.

  It finally fell limp, and she reached down to pry its death grip from her thigh. Her chest heaved, and she whimpered as she got back to her feet. She wiped the blade on the ugly comforter and sheathed it, leaving the corpse in a down-filled burrito.

  Watts limped out into the living room to escape the thick smell of the dead ghoul. She stayed out of sight from the windows, but could see through the sheer curtains to outside. Zombies moved north towards the explosions, marching to see their blasted brethren.

  She pulled out the walkie talkie and leaned back, putting her feet up and resting her leg. “Captain O’Neil, do you copy?” she asked.

  “Good to hear from you, soldier,” he replied immediately. “Have you made it to the golf course?”

  Watts shook her head. “No sir, not yet,” she replied. “Took everything I had just to make it across the river. Got to cover just before the bombing run.”

  “Well, you’re still alive and kicking, so that’s half the battle right there,” O’Neil declared. “Are you in a safe spot now?”

  She rubbed her knee, staring out the window at the stream of ghouls. “Yes sir, I’m holed up in a house a couple blocks south of the river,” she explained. “I was out of the blast zone, but it was close enough that it took out the windows.”

  “Yeah, those missiles can pack quite a punch,” the Captain replied. “How’s your zombie situation looking?”

  Watts tilted her head back and forth. “Moderate, but nothing like it was on the other side of the river,” she said. “Looks like they’re all headed towards the blast zone. Gonna have to stay put for just a bit until they get cleared out.”

  “Understood,” O’Neil replied.

  She took a deep breath and sat back, hugging her torso with one arm. “Sir, may I ask what happened in Kenmore?” she asked. “I thought we were being ordered up there because they didn’t want to risk the infrastructure… yet they just bombed the hell out of it.”

  “That’s not really information we’re passing down the line, Private,” the Captain replied, a chill in his voice.

  Watts bristled. “Sir, with all due respect, I just lost my entire unit because they didn’t want to risk the highway,” she said firmly. “Now they just bombed it. Don’t I deserve to know why?”

  “Under normal circumstances, I would tell you to fuck off,” O’Neil admitted with a sigh. “But these are far from normal times, aren’t they?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Understatement, sir.”

  “We had orders to push north to Kenmore to set up a command center and a roadblock for zombies coming up and east from the downtown area,” he explained. “There was a mission to block the interstate coming up from Seattle, but it was mostly a failure. The higher ups thought we could secure it, but they were wrong. I’m sorry to say that your unit was part of the roadblock force.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she hugged herself tighter. “Did any other units make it out okay?” she asked.

  “We sent two thousand troops up there,” he replied, “and at last count only a hundred and forty-five made it back to Redmond.”

  Watts’ eyes widened. “We’ve had to pull all the way back to Redmond?” she gasped.

  “We’re a little bit outside of Redmond, but honestly not much further,” the Captain said. “After this failure, command wants to take the push nice and slow, not going more than a mile away from the front lines with the diversion points.” He paused. “Which I’m sad to say is bad news for you.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “How bad is it, Captain?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “With where you are, it’s too far away to send rescue,” O’Neil admitted. “So you’re going to have to help me help you. Are you up for it?”

  Watts straightened her shoulders and nodded firmly. “Just tell me what I need to do, Captain.”

  “We’re making a push into the Totem Lake suburb,” he replied, “which is about seven miles southeast of your current position.”

  Her stomach sank. “Seven miles?” she asked, shaking her head. “No way I can make that.”

  “I figured as much, given the amount of zombie infestation in the area,” the Captain agreed. “We’re estimating tens of thousands of them in that area, and that’s just what we can see between the trees. Which is why we’re going to set up a rally point a few miles away from where you are.”

  She chewed her lip for a moment. “I think I can do that.”

  “Good,” O’Neil replied. “To the southeast of your position is a high school. This is going to be your pickup point. Now, I’m guessing you don’t have a map?”

  She pulled out her wrinkled satellite image. “Only one I have is of Kenmore, which might need some updating,” she said.

  “You have a compass though, right?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  “Okay, you’re going to have to take an indirect route,” the Captain explained. “But it’s really the only way. You need to get to the golf course, fight your way to the southernmost hole, then go due east for a couple of miles. As long as you stay to the east, you’ll run smack dab into the school.”

  Watts nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, sir,” she said hoarsely.

  “Don’t thank me yet, because we’re going to be on a timetable,” O’Neil countered. “Due to my orders, I’m going to have to sneak a transport off to pick you up. They’ll be there in two hours, and won’t be able to stay. So if you don’t make it, you’re going to be on your own for a while. I’m also not going to be able to answer any more calls from you, because if it gets back to a higher up, this rescue mission will be quashed.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like I’m expendable,” she said dryly.

  “In the grand scheme of things, we all are, Private,” the Captain replied with a sigh. “But I’ve been in your position before, and let’s just say I’m not a fan of leaving soldiers to hang out to dry.”

  She nodded, stuffing her map back into her pocket. “I appreciate that, Captain,” she said. “More than you know.”

  “You can thank me by making it back alive,” O’Neil said firmly. “Now get a move on Private, you’re on the clock. Good luck.”

  She looked at the ceiling for a moment to compose herself. “Thank you, Captain.”

  She stared at the radio for a moment and then pocketed it. She checked her watch and set a two-hour countdown before swinging her legs down to the floor.

  “Golf course is to the southwest,” she said as she got to her feet. “Time to get moving, Janey.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Watts finally reached the golf course, her injured leg
on the verge of giving out entirely. She’d thought that resting it would help, but if anything it had made it more stiff and hard to navigate with. She dragged it across the parking lot of the clubhouse, looking like one of the zombies she was moving closer to.

  Come on leg, don’t fail me, she thought frantically. Just a few more steps…

  She stabbed a ghoul in the eye socket before shoving it violently to the ground in frustration. Her fear had steadily been giving way to anger at her situation.

  Just a few more steps, and we can rest for a few minutes, she silently told her leg.

  There were two more creatures in the parking lot, both of which started coming towards her. She summoned the strength to hit them both in the head with her knife before throwing their corpses to the ground. She let out a satisfied grunt at her handiwork.

  She finally reached the front door of the clubhouse, pulling on it but finding it locked.

  “Of course,” she snapped under her breath.

  She drew her handgun and smashed the butt of it against the small glass panels to either side of the door, peeking inside to make sure there wasn’t anything waiting for her. She reached in and unlocked it, throwing it open and then locking it behind her.

  The clubhouse was large, with a bar/restaurant down the left hallway, and the main golfing store on the right. Directly in front of her was a reception area, which was elegant, but thankfully deserted.

  Watts stood at the crossroads, looking towards the eatery and the store, chest heaving and leg throbbing. She threw her head back and let out a loud scream, partially to vent her pent-up frustration, but also thinking it would be better for the zombies to come to her than to go hunting for them.

  She stood motionless for nearly a minute, relief sinking over her when nothing came out of the woodwork.

  She hobbled over to the reception desk, pulling out a map of the golf course and tracing her finger along the holes before stopping on the southeastern most one. “Fifteenth hole, I can make that,” she murmured, and then pocketed the map.

  She checked her ammo, noting two rounds in her mag, and another full one of fifteen. She looked around and saw that the clubhouse store had a wide variety of clubs on sale. She hobbled in and found a titanium driver, picking it off of the wall and giving it a few experimental swings.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a mannequin, and turned towards it, lining up a shot as if she were aiming for a t-ball. She took the head clean off of it, and then inspected the club, finding no damage.

  “Well, that will help things out,” she said, resting the club on her shoulder. “Now, let’s do something about this knee.”

  Watts walked across into the bar and restaurant, heading straight for the back wall. At first she picked up a bottle of vodka before setting it back down.

  “This really feels like a job for bourbon,” she said, and reached for a brown bottle before her eyes flicked up to the top shelf. “Gonna splurge,” she declared. “I’m worth it.” She pulled down a bottle of bourbon that probably would have cost her yearly paycheck back before the apocalypse.

  She found a glass from underneath and poured three fingers of booze into it. She stood there for a few minutes, swirling the amber liquid and taking ample sips. The warmth coursed through her body, and the pain in her knee began to subside. She picked up the bottle again, contemplating whether she should pour another glass.

  She shook her head. “Settle down Janey,” she quipped. “This isn’t a frat party. Gotta keep your head about you.”

  She walked to the back door that overlooked the golf course. There were some zombies dotted along the landscape, but they were spread out and in no bigger groups than four.

  She chuckled to herself. “Even during the apocalypse, they’re still enforcing golf party size,” she said, and then rubbed her forehead for a moment, realizing just how much she’d been talking to herself. Was this how people went insane?

  She clutched her trusty golf club and exited the bar out onto the course, readying her metallic driver. She didn’t have to wait long to test it out, as a zombie came stumbling around the corner of the building.

  Watts stepped up, positioned herself like a softball batter, and waited for the pitch. With a forceful swing, the entire side of the ghoul’s head collapsed in on itself, sending it to the ground in a bloody heap with a caved-in face.

  She inspected the weapon, pleased with its performance before giving it a few light swings to clear off some of the blood. “Next stop, fifteenth hole,” she declared, and sauntered off.

  The walk through the golf course was surprisingly pleasant for the most part. The sun still shone down on her, with only a few lazy clouds in the sky. Even though the rough was looking overgrown, the fairways were still in pretty decent shape.

  The zombies for the most part stayed to themselves, not picking up on her since her limping in the grass didn’t make much noise. The only exception were a couple of creatures on the sixteenth green who had become tangled up in some plastic fencing off to the side where they were doing some major landscaping.

  Watts headed closer to them, making sure that they were indeed stuck before moving on. “No sense in wasting a hit on you guys if you aren’t a threat,” she said, waving them off.

  The fifteenth green was a different story from the rest. There was a golf cart on it, with a flailing corpse trapped beneath the front wheel. The still-short green grass had numerous dead patches from being soaked in blood.

  “What happened here?” she wondered, peering around. “Nothing good, that’s for sure.” She scanned the area, making sure that the only threat was the zombie pinned beneath the cart. Whatever had killed it and left the bloody patches had long since moved on, it seemed.

  She looked at her compass, finding east. Looking in that direction, all she could see was a large, wooded residential area.

  “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Watts checked her watch before stepping onto the first street of a heavily tree-lined neighborhood. One hour and twenty-two minutes were left until her pickup arrived. The bourbon from earlier had begun to wear off, and her swollen knee began to whimper at her once again.

  She looked down the street, as much as she could with the numerous shady spots, noting the smattering of zombies bumbling around.

  Doesn’t look too bad, she thought. At least on the road. God only knows how many are hiding between the houses.

  She paused for a moment to motivate herself, before finally stepping forward. Her feet echoed on the pavement, gaining the attention of a few ghouls in a nearby yard. She debated which ones she should try to fight, because she knew that there was no way she could take them all.

  Only the ones that make it to the road, she decided, and wound up her swing.

  She didn’t have to wait long to strike, as a zombie shambled up from the yard into the street, coming straight for her. She adjusted her course from the center of the road, moving to the side and giving a hearty swing, catching it in the side of the head and swiftly dropping it.

  Watts stepped over the unmoving creature, glancing behind her to see she was attracting a crowd now a couple dozen strong from the back. The first intersection created a new set of problems as she hobbled into it, seeing dozens of zombies in both directions.

  Oh god, these roads are packed, she thought frantically, chewing her lip. She kept hobbling along to the east, trying to put as much distance between her and the pursuing pack as she could. The growing horde behind her began to moan loud enough that ghouls ahead began to turn around ahead of her.

  The next intersection started to close as a viable avenue of escape as packs of zombies came out from both sides. She clenched her jaw, sucking up the pain and breaking into a near-run to get across the intersection as the two sides began to converge into one horde.

  She barely made it with only a few yards to spare, her knee screaming now as she ran and skipped and pushed hersel
f to put some distance between them. The sea of zombies had grown to well over a hundred, or probably more, but she didn’t have time to count, trying to focus on what was ahead.

  Realistically, it didn’t matter, because she knew just a few dozen would be more than enough to do her in. What was a couple hundred more?

  I have to do something, she thought, panicked as she continued to push forward. No way I can make it to the rendezvous with this much noise behind me.

  Her mind raced as she desperately tried to figure out some way to lose the horde. She reached the next intersection and was surprised to see that there were only a handful of ghouls to the right. Without batting an eye, she headed that way.

  A couple of zombies were close to the intersection, so she quickly swung and smacked one in the face as it turned. The impact unfortunately didn’t kill it, but did but forced it back into the other one, staggering them both enough that they got swallowed up by the horde following her.

  When she got halfway down the street, she noticed a fenced-in yard to the east. She hobbled over, tossing her golf club over the top and clambering up. She grunted as she put most of her weight on her arms, scrabbling with her good leg.

  The zombies clustered around the bottom, and one swiped at her boot, causing her to panic and flail up over the top. She lost her grip and instinctively kicked off of the fence with her good leg so she would fall on the empty side.

  She landed hard on her side, her shoulder exploding in pain, and the wind knocked right out of her. She rolled onto her knees, gasping for air, panic gripping her chest and not helping the situation. She knew she had to get up, had to sweep the area, something could be on her in seconds.

  She dug a hand into the grass, focusing on her breathing, finally able to take in a few ragged gasps, her vision coming back into focus. She glanced over her shoulder at the zombies behind her, and they pressed up against the fence, moaning and gnashing and trying to break through.

  At the ping of a metal post beginning to fail, Watts’ eyes widened, and soon a few more sounded, and the edges of the fence began to buckle. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing her club, and hobbled across the yard, chest heaving.