“Where are you thinking?” Missy asked.
Tori pointed. “Figure I will aim towards the back, away from the building,” she replied. “Let’s see how that goes and adjust from there.”
Before they could throw the first one, the window next to them exploded in gunfire. Tori leaned out the window and spotted an older man aiming a hunting rifle. She waved her arms.
“Hey, hey!” she called.
He blinked at her in surprise and then raised an eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked politely.
“You any good with that?” she asked, pointing to the rifle.
“Oh, yes ma’am,” he replied.
She reached back in and grabbed a milk jug, showing it to him. “If I throw one of these, you think you can hit it?” she asked.
He shrugged. “No different than skeet shooting,” he replied.
“Hang tight,” she said, “we may need you.” She motioned for Missy to go. Her friend nodded and lit up the first molotov.
Tori leaned out the window, and underhand tossed the firebomb. It flew through the air, landing about five yards behind the end of the horde. There was an explosion of fire, which barely struck the back end. About eight to ten zombies caught fire, slowly engulfing them.
“Going to have to get riskier,” Missy mused.
“You just be ready with that extinguisher bomb,” Tori replied, and readied another molotov, pitching it out.
This time the bottle landed about ten yards deep from the back, shattering on the head of a zombie. Flaming liquid shot out in every direction, coating dozens of corpses.
“There we go!” she exclaimed, punching a fist into the air.
The girls watched as the flames engulfed the monsters, the scent of burning rotted flesh reaching up to the window, causing them to gag a bit. Luckily, the fire stayed localized near the back half of the zombies. As the fire burned, they began to drop to the ground.
“Okay, one more,” Tori said with a deep breath. “Going to go near the front this time.” She turned to the man in the window. “And you, get ready, we may need you.”
He nodded. “Just give the word,” he said.
She got her molotov lit and lobbed it about ten yards from the building. It landed and creatures near the front erupted in flame, catching and burning in an outward circle through the ghouls. After a minute or so, the flames grew within a few zombies of the building.
“Extinguisher,” Tori said, and Missy handed one over. “Okay, I’m tossing this out near the building,” she called to the window man, “hit it when it’s about ten feet above the crowd.”
“Can do,” he replied.
She counted down from three and then dropped it. They watched as it fell, and then a shot rang out. The jug exploded, sending extinguisher powder spreading over the front creatures. Almost in an instant, the fire snuffed out.
“Nice shot!” she exclaimed.
The three of them stared down at the zombies, easily still a hundred and fifty creatures still standing and pushing forward.
“How many cocktails we have left?” Tori asked.
“Two,” Missy replied.
The blonde nodded. “Let’s thin out the ones in the back a bit more, and let Harold and Jack pick off the stragglers with the impaler,” she suggested.
Missy flicked her lighter. “Let’s light ‘em up!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Missy and Tori came downstairs to see Zion trying out the impaler. He lined it up and fired, hitting three creatures in the head, letting out an excited yell in the process. He quickly yanked down the lever, reloading it far faster than Harold and Jack were doing together before rolling it over and firing again.
“This is so much fun!” Zion declared. “Can y’all make me a portable version of this?”
The boys shared a glance.
“Wheels wouldn’t be practical,” Harold said.
Jack shrugged. “Could make it like a steadi-cam, like they have for films.”
“Like Vasquez’s machine gun from Aliens!” Harold gushed.
Jack nodded vigorously. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“Forget the impaler, can you just make me one of those guns?” Zion cut in.
Tori shot them a playfully stern look as she approached. “I’m glad you boys are having fun,” she said, “but can we go help Calvin out before you start coming up with diagrams?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Zion replied with a nod. He peeked outside to the horde, seeing about forty or so remaining standing, with some still writhing on the ground. “While these two finish off the ones still standing, can you boys get prepped to clear out the burnt ones?” he asked, turning to the two gunmen that Tori had sent down. “Hunting boots and leg protections, just spike ‘em and leave ‘em be. We can clean them up tomorrow.”
The two men nodded and ran off to gear up.
“Missy, why don’t you stay here and keep an eye on the boys?” Tori asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Make sure they don’t get into any trouble.”
Her friend smiled and nodded, heading for the impaler.
Zion led Tori to the emergency exit, snatching up a piece of rebar on the way. “Just gonna borrow this,” he said.
There was some light banging on the emergency door, sounding like just a few hands. Without being asked, Tori walked over to the nearest wall opening and smacked it a few times, yelling out to the creatures. Within a few moments, the banging stopped on the door and the zombies moved over to her, reaching through the opening with excited open mouths.
“Okay, did my part,” she said, and Zion cracked a smile and snuck out of the emergency exit.
He stepped over to the first target and jammed the rebar into the back of its head, stabbing the next one through the eye as it turned to him.
Tori emerged from the garage, carrying a box with a few molotovs and extinguishers. “Just like to be prepared,” she said.
Zion nodded in approval. “All right, let’s go get your boy,” he said with a grin.
They came around the wide of the building, seeing the smoldering mass of burnt flesh on the far side.
“Just to be safe,” he said quietly, “let’s cut through the trees.”
She nodded. “Agreed,” she said. “Death by barbecued zombie isn’t on my list of preferred ways to die.”
“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “What is on your list?”
“Oh, you know, the usuals,” Tori replied, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Death by orgasm, drowning in a sea of chocolate, death by stripper.”
Zion raised an eyebrow. “Death by stripper?” he asked. “What, you want a bunch of Chippendales grinding you to death?”
“Did I say male strippers?” she asked.
He gaped at her, and she smirked back at him.
“Oh yeah,” Zion said, shaking his head, “my boy Calvin has a live one.”
She winked at him. “Yeah, he does.”
The two of them made their way to the truck, heading slowly down the street. As they went, they passed several downed zombies, dotting the road like it’s a trail so Calvin and Mateo could find their way back to the complex.
“Looks like we aren’t going to have that many to clear out,” Tori said. “Calvin is doing some work.”
“He’s also got our friend Mateo with him,” Zion said. “We picked him up at Wendy’s camp, and he’s a madman.”
She cocked her head. “Hope you mean that in a good way.”
“In these times,” he replied, “absolutely.”
As they worked their way down the road, they finally caught up with the horde that had dwindled to about forty or so. Zion reached over to honk the horn, but she stopped him.
“No, keep them bunched up,” Tori said, lifting a bottle. “Fire will work better.”
He held out his hand, motioning to the monsters. “Have at it, then.”
She lit up a cocktail and gave it a good heave, sending it right into the center of the horde, fire spreading quickly. Some of th
e flaming creatures turned and shambled towards her, but Zion stepped up and smacked them down with his wooden bludgeon.
As he lifted the bits of flaming flesh sticking to the end of his weapon, a grin spread on his face. “This gives me an idea,” he said, and turned to her. “Think you can whip me up a flaming sword?” he asked as he smashed another creature.
“I don’t think it would be the most practical weapon,” she admitted, “but it’ll look cool as hell.”
Zion winked at her. “In that case, I’ll only pull it out for special occasions.”
“Consider it officially on the list,” she replied.
He smacked down the last few zombies, and then sat Mateo and Calvin finishing the last few of their group, finally ending the threat.
As the two duos approached each other, Tori set down her box and ran to the sniper, throwing her arms around his neck. Mateo shot Zion a playful look, as if offering him a hug too.
“I don’t care how good your grandmother’s tamales are,” Zion said, holding up a hand, “that ain’t happening.”
The quartet broke into a fit of giggles, exhausted and relieved that they’d managed to survive the chaos of the day.
“How we looking at the apartments?” Calvin asked as Tori stepped back from him.
“Building is a little singed,” she admitted, “but other than that it’s secure.”
He inclined his head to Zion. “Think we should radio Wendy and tell them to come back?”
His companion shook his head. “Nah, let them go hang out down there for a bit while we get this place cleaned up,” he replied. “A sea of burnt corpses isn’t exactly the first impression I want to make.”
“Good call,” Mateo agreed.
As they headed to the truck, they stopped at the sight of two people running towards them.
“Oh hell, what now?” Calvin groaned.
It was Cheryl and Jack, both carrying guns, and out of breath as if they’d sprinted the entire way.
“Zion-” she gasped, skidding to a stop and trying to speak through her gasps.
He put out a hand. “Slow down girl, slow down,” he said. “Now what’s going on?”
“The…” She took a deep, ragged breath. “The horde on the interstate.”
His brow furrowed. “What about it?”
“It’s…” she huffed, “turned around.”
He straightened up. “Calvin, Tori, with me,” he snapped. “Rest of you get back to the complex and start fortifying that door with anything you can find.”
“What are you going to do?” Cheryl asked breathlessly.
“Figure out how much time we have,” Zion replied.
She motioned vaguely towards the interstate. “Jermaine is still down there keeping an eye on them,” she said, finally catching her breath. “Said he was just short of the tunnel. He sent the rest of the crew back.”
Zion nodded, and the trio got into the truck. He popped the vehicle into gear and peeled out, speeding towards the highway.
“How many zombies are we talking about?” Tori asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Calvin shook his head. “They took past ten thousand this morning, but there’s fifty or sixty thousand more behind them,” he replied.
Her face paled, and she looked down at her hands.
“Man, but what if we just say quiet?” Calvin asked hopefully. “Won’t they just keep walking on the interstate?”
Zion gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. “They might see the plume of smoke,” he explained, “or hear the fire burning and come our way.”
“And even if they don’t,” Tori added, “having that many zombies in this area would effectively mean we’d be prisoners in the complex. And we don’t have the resources to sit there indefinitely.”
There was a long silence in the cab.
Calvin finally groaned. “So, what do we do?” he asked.
“Don’t know until we know how much time we have,” Zion replied.
They raced down the interstate, going several miles before they spotted Jermaine waving them down on the side of the road.
“Hey,” he greeted.
Zion jumped out. “How’s it looking?”
He shook his head. “It’s bad, man,” he admitted. “The tail end of them, or hell, how I guess the front end of them, is about two miles up the road. I don’t know what the hell went off, but it hooked every single one of those fuckers.”
“They moving quick?” Zion asked.
“They ain’t runners, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jermaine replied, “but they’re moving at a solid clip.”
Calvin took a deep breath. “How long did it take you to get them from the exit up there?”
“I don’t know man, five, maybe six hours?” came the reply.
The sniper groaned. “With where they are now, they could be at the crossroads in four hours,” he said.
“Unless we find a way to slow them down,” Zion replied.
“We have the bulk of the components made for the loppers,” Tori piped up, “we just need the engines.”
Zion cocked his head. “What do you say, Calvin?” he asked. “Feel like a trip to the mall?”
“I’m so glad you’re into engines, and not jewelry,” Calvin quipped, smiling at the blonde. “Makes shopping a whole lot easier.”
She smirked. “Wouldn’t say no to a necklace.”
“But if we slow them down, then what?” Jermaine cut in.
Zion clenched his jaw for a long moment. “It gives us time to evacuate.”
The four of them stood there in silence, stunned and saddened, as a chorus of faint moans grew louder and louder in the distance.
END
Up next: Death is knocking on their door, and Zion has no choice but to answer in “Portland - pt. 5”
PORTLAND - PART 5
DEAD AMERICA: THE NORTHWEST INVASION
BOOK 2
BY DEREK SLATON
© 2020
CHAPTER ONE
Day Zero +22
The dull roar of a ten thousand strong zombie horde murmured in the distance. The situation was dire. After the bombs had dropped, all the hard work from weeks past was obliterated, coming back to haunt them as an army of the undead marched towards their home.
The clock was ticking. They only had four hours before the zombie mass overtook the crossroads, blocking their only means of escape. If that happened, the best case scenario for the apartment complex was that they’d slowly waste away from starvation. The worst case would be the horde overtaking them and breaking in.
Calvin swallowed hard. “So we’re really going to evacuate?” he asked hoarsely. The wiry sniper fumbled with his pocket, pulling out a thin joint and jamming it between his lips.
“We don’t have a choice,” Zion replied, nodding and straightening his broad shoulders. “And if we don’t slow them down, we’re not going to be able to get everybody out safely.”
Mateo rubbed his forehead. “Fire worked pretty well back at the complex, right?” he asked, hope in his lightly accented voice. “Why not give that a shot?”
“There isn’t going to be nearly enough flammable liquid left to put a dent in them,” Zion replied, poking his cheek with his tongue.
Calvin flicked his lighter a few times, finally managing to light up his joint, and took a deep, thoughtful drag. “What if we used it to thin out the crowd a bit?” he mused through a puff of smoke. “Wouldn’t that help with the loppers?”
“It certainly couldn’t hurt,” Tori weighed in, pushing her glasses up her nose. The lopper her and her college friends had invented was a helicopter-inspired machine that had the potential to buy them some needed time. “We’re just kind of making this up as we go, so we don’t know how it’s going to react to hitting numerous corpses at once. The less strain we can put on the loppers, the longer they’ll last.”
Jermaine linked his fingers together and rested his palms on top of his dark, bald head. “I can handle th
at,” he piped up. “I’ll load up everything I can and start thinning them out.”
“When you do, throw them as far as you can, all around the horde,” Tori instructed, curling a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “We need to create some pockets if we can.”
The moaning grew increasingly louder in the distance, pushing Zion into action. He took a deep breath and turned to Jermaine, who was wearing a digital watch.
“Mind if I borrow your watch for a little bit?” he asked, motioning to his companion’s wrist.
Jermaine divested himself of the watch and handed it over. Zion fiddled with it for a few moments, finally managing to set a four-hour timer.
“Appreciate it,” he said as he fastened it to his own wrist. “Let’s head back to the complex and regroup. We got a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it in.”
The group nodded and piled into the truck. Zion fired it up and sped back towards the complex. He glanced in the rearview mirror, thankful to see an empty road, at least for the time being.
As they pulled into the garage, rumbling over the charred remains of the ghouls who had tried to breach the parking deck earlier, he pulled up next to Tori’s friends, who were hard at work on various machinery.
Tori jumped out and rushed over to them. “Drop what you’re doing right now,” she demanded, pushing her glasses up her nose, “we need to start working on the loppers.”
Her friends blinked at her, confused, but concerned at the tense tone of her voice.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked, brow furrowed.
Harold shook his head. “We don’t even have the engines for those, yet.”
“Well, you’re about to get them,” Zion replied as he caught up.
“Tori?” Missy asked, voice shaky.
The blonde glanced at Zion, silently asking permission to fill them in. He nodded his approval, and she clasped her hands in front of her, taking a deep breath.
“There’s a whole lot of those things headed our way,” she began. “If we don’t slow them down, a lot of people are going to be trapped here. So I need you to focus, and start putting them together as quickly as you can, reinforce them as much as humanly possible, because they’re going to take a beating.”
Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 7