Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers

by Picott, Camille

  “Let’s hope they don’t have RPGs,” Spill replied.

  “Hold on!” Bruce slammed on the brakes and made a hard left, hitting the narrow frontage road that led to the drive-in. It paralleled the freeway for several miles before winding up a small hill to the outdoor theater.

  “Kill the lights,” Leo shouted. This plan wouldn’t work if the Russians figured out they’d gotten off the freeway. “And floor it, Bruce.”

  “Got it, Cap.” The headlights switched off as Bruce accelerated. The scent of burned rubber filled Leo’s nostrils.

  Not more than a mile behind them, the Russians barreled into view. Leo could see their headlights. With any luck, they’d be so busy looking at the freeway, they would’t realize the Snipers had taken a different route until it was too late.

  “Stay ahead of them,” Leo said. If they could reach the bluff, they could drop bombs straight onto the Soviet bastards.

  The old jeep raced up the road. Leo kept his gun up, tracking the Russians. They were getting closer to the frontage road exit. Closer, closer ...

  Leo let out of whoop of triumph when both jeeps shot past it, never even slowing.

  The frontage road drifted away from the freeway, wending up the small hill to the drive-in. Three large white movie screens loomed into view, relics from a time before zombies and war. Leo’s father had brought them here on several occasions over the years. He remembered sneaking sips from his dad’s beer can when he went to the bathroom. Dal and Lena always scolded him, while Anton tried to wheedle a sip for himself.

  The memory flashed through Leo’s mind, a fleeting piece of happiness he could hardly comprehend. As soon as Bruce hit the brakes beneath the big screens, Leo scooped up a handful of bombs and raced to the bluff at the back of the parking lot.

  His feet crunched on bits of popcorn and discarded candy boxes as he ran. A cardboard popcorn bucket bounced off his shoe. He skidded to a halt behind a chainlink fence that overlooked the freeway, snatching a lighter out of his front pocket.

  His finger brushed the torn remains of the crinkly condom package. Those blissful moments with Cassie seemed almost as far away as his memories of the drive-in.

  The Russians were almost beneath them. He lit his first bomb just as Spill skidded to a stop beside him. The soldier touched a bomb to Leo’s Zippo. Both bombs ignited with a sizzle of the fuse.

  They threw them at the same time, twin arches sparking through the night. They landed inside the first jeep just as it tore past beneath them.

  “Get down,” Spill cried, throwing himself into the dirt.

  The explosion was magnificent. The engine ignited with the blast, sending a giant fireball into the night. Leo flattened himself to the ground just as bits of metal and other debris flew through the air. He and Spill exchanged exhilarated grins.

  Their triumph was short-lived.

  “Guys!” Bruce ran toward them, gun in hand. “Fuck, guys, the second jeep just turned around. They’re coming for us.”

  Leo jumped to his feet. Sure enough, the second jeep was driving south on the northbound lane, racing back into the direction of the frontage road.

  Leo refused to go down. “Get your weapons,” he barked. “We’re taking these fuckers out. Get up on the catwalks behind the movie screens.”

  Bruce and Spill hauled ass toward the screens. Leo was right behind them. He wanted the high ground. They were going to hit the Soviet bastards hard and fast.

  They each ran to a different screen, scrambling up a ladder to the wooden catwalks. It was perfect. When those Soviet assholes roared into the drive-in, Leo’s people would hit from them three sides. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Leo crouched, his rifle once again in hand. His machine gun hung around his neck, a backup in case he needed it.

  Headlights appeared on the frontage road. The Russians had found the entrance. They were coming for the Snipers.

  “Joke’s on you, assholes,” Leo growled. “The Snipers are ready for you.” He raised his rifle, sighting down the barrel.

  A streak of light burst from the oncoming jeep, speeding straight for the drive-in.

  “Incoming!” Spill bellowed.

  An RPG hit the gray jeep. The vehicle exploded. Leo covered his head as shrapnel tore clean through the movie screen.

  “Fuck, I’m hit,” Spill said.

  “Suck it up,” Leo yelled back. “You can whine after the Soviets die.”

  “Yes, sir!” Spill’s voice had a manic edge.

  The Soviets roared into the drive-in. Leo was behind the screen closest to the road. He poked his rifle around the screen, aimed for the driver, and pulled the trigger.

  Satisfaction coursed through him as a spray of red painted the night air, but he didn’t let up. As the jeep careened through the parking lot, he aimed at the next closest bastard in the back seat. Another spray of red burst into the air.

  “Fuck, yeah. Take that, assholes.”

  The last two Russians jumped out of the car, making a run for it.

  Leo instantly saw they were not up against regular Russians. The two men moved so fast they blurred as they raced for the periphery of the drive-in. They bounded like animals, using both their hands and feet to propel them forward. They’d been infected by the nezhit vaccine.

  But no matter how fast they were, they couldn’t outrun their own machine guns. Especially when the shooters had the high ground. Bruce and Spill gunned them down. They died like dogs in the dirt.

  Leo, Bruce, and Spill climbed down from the movie screens and met in the middle of the carnage. Pieces of burning jeep were scattered throughout the lot. Part of Bruce’s screen was on fire, having been hit by a piece of burning shrapnel.

  Spill had a big, twisted piece of metal lodged in his shoulder. He walked hunched over from the pain, but his smile was wide.

  “You are one crazy motherfucker. It is a damn fine pleasure to serve with you, Captain Cecchino.” Spill stuck out his good hand, grinning from ear to ear.

  Leo shook his hand, not bothering to argue with the title. He didn’t give a shit what the guys called him so long as they helped him fight.

  “Let’s get that shrapnel out of your shoulder. Bruce, hold his arm.”

  Bruce obliged, taking up position behind Spill and holding his wrist.

  Leo braced one hand against Spill’s good shoulder, wrapping the other around the twisted chunk of metal.

  “On three,” he said. “One, two, three—”

  Spill bellowed as Leo yanked out the metal. Blood gushed out of the wound.

  Leo had nothing to bandage the wound. Cassie had the first aid kit. He had Bruce cut the sleeve off Griggs’s shirt, using it to bandage the wound.

  When they had Spill patched up, Leo looked around the drive-in. The Soviet jeep was still idling, having rolled into the chainlink fence when Leo shot the driver.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.” Cassie and Jennifer were waiting for them. Hell if he was going to stand them up.

  Chapter 47

  Trade

  BULLETS ZIPPED ACROSS Luma Bridge while the fuses hissed up into the night.

  Cassie was so scared she could hardly think. It occurred to her she should take cover behind the jeep, but all she could do was lay into her trigger and scream.

  One of her bullets connected with the Soviet’s gun hand. The soldier was up against the bridge railing. Cassie had just enough time to register the gun tipping over the side before a searing pain went through her calf.

  “Cassie!” Jennifer grabbed her as she crumpled, dragging her behind the jeep.

  Pain burned up her leg. Cassie looked down and saw blood gushing from the side of her right calf.

  “I’ve been hit,” she said dumbly. It hurt so badly she could hardly breathe.

  “You’re fine. Stay right here.” Jennifer positioned herself in front of Cassie and raised her machine gun. She peered around the vehicle. “Dammit, where did he go?”

  Cassie took
in great gulps of air, trying to breathe through the pain. “I got his gun hand. He dropped his gun over the side when I hit him.”

  “But I don’t see him.”

  “Maybe he fell over the side, too?”

  “I’m not sure we’re that lucky. We have to move. Those bombs are going to blow any minute now.”

  Nonna had told Cassie it took thirty seconds to burn through a foot of fuse. The longest fuse was ten feet, but the shortest fuse was six feet. They didn’t have much time.

  Cassie bit her lip and dragged her butt into the passenger side of the jeep. Pain shot up her leg with every step she took, but she hadn’t come this far to get blown up. She wrapped clammy hands around her machine gun as Jennifer fired up the engine.

  Cassie scanned the road beside them as Jennifer drove forward. She was greeted with an empty bridge. There was no sign of the Soviet anywhere. Where the hell was he? Had he taken cover behind a truss? Had he taken off because he no longer had a gun?

  They reached the second set of trusses without incident. Cassie’s paranoia ratcheted up to an all-time high. Where the hell was that Soviet, and why wasn’t he attacking them?

  They got out of the jeep. Cassie limped around the vehicle, fuse spool in her hand. Jennifer grabbed bombs, once again tucking them into her shirt.

  That’s when Cassie saw the shadow. It moved like like a giant spider across the upper section of the bridge, leaping nimbly between the trusses.

  It was the Soviet. No, it was the Soviet zombie. He leaped from the truss with the inevitability of an avalanche. There was no way a regular human could move like that. And he was nearly upon them.

  Correction: he was nearly upon Jennifer.

  She’d thought regular zombies were scary. She’d thought mutant zombies were terrifying.

  Nothing prepared her for the fear of staring up at a Russian zombie that moved like a demonic arachnid.

  Her world narrowed. She could see nothing beyond the Russian zombie and the death he promised. Jennifer hadn’t even noticed him yet.

  “Jen, zombie!” She laid into the trigger of her machine gun, firing over Jennifer’s head.

  The zombie leaped sideways, avoiding her stream of bullets. He latched onto a truss and swung through the air, still coming for them—fast. He was too damned fast. Nothing should be able to move like that.

  Cassie jerked the barrel, trying to gun him down as he leaped from truss to truss like Tarzan. Jennifer joined her, the two of them attacking.

  Cassie sensed the moment when their bullets connected with the monster. She heard them thud into his skin. He let up a pain-filled keen before falling from the trusses. He hit the ground no more than ten feet away from them.

  “We are so fucked if the entire Soviet army turns into zombies,” Jennifer’s breaths were shallow from the near-miss. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

  Cassie nodded. “You better go.”

  Jennifer turned, reaching for the truss.

  That’s when Cassie realized their mistake. A second dark shape dropped down from the trusses, falling straight toward Jennifer. They’d been so focused on the first zombie, they’d never seen the second one sneaking up on them.

  Cassie opened her mouth to scream a warning, but it was too late. The second zombie landed on top of Jennifer, knocking her to the ground. Her sister screamed as the monster pinned her. He wrapped his hands around her head, attempting to slam her skull against the ground. Jennifer shrieked, clawing at the Soviet’s face with her bare hands. The two of them jerked and writhed on the pavement.

  Jennifer’s cry went through Cassie like a bolt of lightning. In the blink of an eye, she saw what would happen.

  a) The zombie had Jennifer’s head firmly in his hands and would not let go.

  b) He would crack open her skull.

  c) He would kill Jennifer.

  d) He would do all that in the span of a few seconds.

  In a situation like this in chess, a trade had to be made. One piece had to fall so another could be saved. Cassie didn’t care what it took. She had to save her sister.

  If she opened fire, she had as much chance of shooting Jennifer as she did the Soviet. So Cassie did the next best thing. She charged.

  For the first time in her life, she took advantage of her height and build. She was bigger than the Soviet in every way. She barreled into him with the ferocity of a bull, smacking into him so hard they both rolled across the concrete. Her shirt tore against the asphalt. Pain ripped across her back and shoulders.

  They tumbled to a stop, the zombie on top. He smiled at her, a pleased purr rippling up from his throat. His eyes were tinged with red on the edges. His hands reached for her, descending around her head.

  “Cassie!” In her periphery, she saw Jennifer scramble to her feet. Her machine gun lay on the ground several feet away. She lunged for it, but Cassie knew she wouldn’t get to it in time.

  The only thing between her and the Soviet was her own machine gun. Somehow, Cassie had managed to hang onto it. It was squashed between them, the barrel pointed at Cassie. There was no way to position it to take out the Soviet, so she did the next best thing.

  She shoved it upward, smacking the length of the barrel right into the Soviet’s face. The bone of his nose crunched from the impact, but all that did was make him mad. He bit down on Cassie’s hand, tearing through skin and crunching down on bone.

  Pain ripped up her arm. Cassie screamed and bucked, but the zombie held her down. He kept his teeth locked on her hand. He sucked on the blood that gushed from her ruined hand, smiling at her around the gore. Once again, he reached for her head. Cassie saw her death reflected back at her from the depths of his eyes.

  “Cassie, no!”

  An explosion rocked the bridge, sending Cassie and the zombie sideways. His teeth tore free of her hand.

  Cassie clung to the machine gun like a lifeline.

  A second explosion rocked the bridge, throwing Cassie and the zombie up against the railing. Somehow, she ended up with her head lodged against his stomach. The machine gun was pointed right at his abdomen.

  Their eyes met for a half second. Then Cassie pulled the trigger.

  Bullets ripped outward. The zombie’s torso was shredded into a gory mess. Cassie shifted the barrel, sending more bullets into his face. His body went slack, slumping to the ground.

  Cassie released the gun and rolled away. She curled into a tight ball around her bleeding hand as a third explosion rocked the bridge. Debris rained down around them.

  “Cas!”

  Cassie closed her eyes, sobbing around her ruined hand. Her body shook with shock. Coherent thought eluded her.

  “Cassie!” Jennifer was beside her, gently lifting her in her arms. She cradled Cassie against her chest, rocking her like she was a little girl. “Cas, are you okay? Cas?”

  Unable to form words, Cassie held out her hand. Blood gushed from it, dripping onto the asphalt. She glanced at the dead zombie.

  Jennifer followed her gaze. The zombie’s chest and face had been shot off. A shudder went through Jennifer. Tears spilled out of her eyes. She glared down at Cassie.

  “You’re going to be fine,” she said fiercely. “This is a new type of zombie. We don’t know what their bite does. It might not do anything.”

  She was in denial. Cassie loved her for that.

  She took in the scene, taking a moment to gather her courage. There were huge cracks in the concrete where the explosion had gone off. The trusses lay in a wreckage. The bridge groaned loudly from the abuse, but it still stood. Their jeep had slid up against the railing opposite to them, but was otherwise unscathed.

  Cassie shifted her gaze to the dead Russian zombie who had bitten her. One fact hung before her: she did not want to turn into a monster. She didn’t want to turn into something that hunted humans and ate brains. She didn’t want to hurt the people she cared about.

  She didn’t want someone to put her down the way Spill had put down Griggs. Cassie couldn’t bear
to even consider that. Who would do it? Jennifer?

  Leo?

  No way. No way would she put that burden on their shoulders, not when she could take care of the problem herself. She would rather die doing some good for the country.

  In the blink of an eye, their roles had switched. Jennifer was no longer the ideal piece to blow the bridge.

  That was now Cassie’s role.

  She sat up, gently pushing Jennifer away. “I’m going to stay behind and light the last set of fuses.” Cassie swallowed back her tears. She had to stop crying and get her head back in the game. There was important work to be done. “You need to get off the bridge before the busses get here. Take the jeep.”

  “No.” Jennifer shook her head vehemently, tears dripping off her cheeks. “No. I’ll stay with you. We’ll go out together.”

  “I can’t let you do that.” Cassie wiped away the last of her tears, summoning every scrap of courage she had. She had to make Jennifer leave the bridge, no matter what. If that meant she had to put on a brave face, she would do that. “You need to go.”

  Argument gathered in Jennifer’s grief-stricken eyes. She opened her mouth to argue, but Cassie cut her off.

  “You have to make sure Leo knows what happened to me.” She pulled off her necklace with shaking hands, passing the chain with its small black knight pendant to Jennifer. “Make sure he knows I died protecting our home. You have to make sure he knows that.”

  “Cassie ...” Jennifer dissolved into sobbing. Her wails were like knives in Cassie’s chest.

  Jennifer’s grief nearly broke her, but she was determined to see her sister off the bridge to safety. She peeled open Jennifer’s palm and placed the pendant in her hand. “Promise me you’ll tell him.”

  She waited for Jennifer’s shaky nod before gently shoving her sister away. “Go. The busses will be here soon. I’ll make sure they don’t make it to the other side.”

  Cassie told herself this was a good way to go out. It was a better fate than Griggs had. At least her death would count for something.

  “I love you.” Jennifer’s words were followed by a fresh wave of sobs.

  “I love you, too.” Cassie gave Jennifer her best smile. “Keep fighting, Jen. Don’t stop until our country is free.”