Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6

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Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 8

by Slaton, Derek


  The trio of students nodded firmly and then set to work like a hive of busy bees.

  Tori turned to Zion. “I’m going to help them, but please come see me before you leave,” she said.

  He nodded. “Will do,” he promised and then waved for Calvin and Mateo to follow him to the stairwell.

  “My truck is on the exterior lot,” Jermaine piped up. “I’ll burn as many of them as I can.”

  “Thanks, bud,” Zion replied, and held up his wrist. “And I’ll take good care of your watch, too.”

  Jermaine chuckled. “I know you,” he said, “if it doesn’t come back with bloodstains on it, I’m gonna be disappointed.”

  They exchanged a fist bump before parting ways. Zion led Calvin and Mateo up the stairs quickly, headed for Cheryl’s office. When they walked in, she sat in the corner at a radio, repeatedly trying to get Wendy on the line.

  “Wendy, do you copy?” she demanded, voice frustrated as if she’d been at it for a while. “Anybody home? Anybody? Bueller?” She tossed the microphone angrily down on the table.

  Zion crossed his arms. “Nobody home, I’m guessing?” he asked.

  “No, they’re either out of range or have their radios off,” Cheryl growled.

  He cocked his head. “They’ll be to White Salmon soon enough,” he reminded her. “You been able to reach them?”

  “Nobody in Edward’s camp is reading me either,” she replied.

  Calvin clucked his tongue. “Did you try Fingers?”

  “No, just tried Edward’s frequency,” Cheryl said, pointing at him. “But that’s a good idea.” She swiveled around and fiddled with the dials before getting the frequency right. “Fingers, this is Cheryl from Zion’s camp, do you copy?”

  There were a few moments of tense silence, before the line crackled and Fingers’ voice came through. “Go for Fingers.”

  “Hang on,” Cheryl said back, waving maniacally at Zion, “I’m going to put Zion on.”

  He grabbed the microphone. “Have you heard from Wendy yet?” he asked.

  “Wendy?” Fingers replied. “Who the hell is Wendy?”

  “All right brother,” Zion replied with a sigh, “I’m going to give you the nickel version cause we ain’t got much time. Did you hear those bombs that went off a few hours ago?”

  “Yeah, we were trying to figure out what in the hell that was,” Fingers came back.

  Zion leaned on the table. “They were missiles,” he explained, “and they fucked our shit up good. We pulled survivors out of Wendy’s camp and sent them your way.”

  “Whoa, whoa, sent them our way?” Fingers demanded. “Edward isn’t going to be happy about that.”

  Zion’s gaze darkened. “He’s gonna have to get over it, because we’re coming that way too.”

  “What the hell is going on there?” came the reply.

  Zion took a deep breath. “We got fifty thousand of those things headed our way, and if we don’t get our people out in the next four hours or so, we ain’t getting them out,” he said.

  There was a long silence, and then Fingers finally said, “Fucking hell man.” He let out a deep whoosh of breath through the line. “What do you need me to do?”

  “For starters, when you get a hold of Wendy, you tell her to turn around and haul ass back here with those transport vehicles,” Zion replied. “We don’t have anything big enough to move our people.”

  “We’re low on that too,” Fingers admitted. “We trained all the diesel from the buses to power the generators. Wish I could be more help on that, but I can’t.”

  Zion shook his head. “No worries.”

  “How many loads do you need?” Fingers asked.

  Zion glanced at Cheryl, and she scribbled some numbers quickly on the back of a piece of paper. Once she was done, she held up three fingers.

  “Three,” he said.

  There was another momentary pause. “You aren’t going to be able to do that in four hours if they’re coming all the way here.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Zion rubbed his forehead. “I remember that drive, and there wasn’t really a whole lot out there,” he said. “And I don’t really feel comfortable leaving vulnerable people on the side of the road.”

  “Don’t blame you there,” Fingers agreed. “Those things are fucking everywhere, and by the time you really get going, it’ll be nighttime. So even guards aren’t going to help much on the side of the road.” He paused. “But wait… wait…” There was a sound of papers rustling around through the radio, and finally he said, “Bridge of the Gods!”

  Zion’s brow furrowed, and he looked around at the others, receiving blank stares all around. “I have no idea what that means,” he admitted.

  “Bridge of the Gods, man,” Fingers replied, speaking quickly. “It’s about halfway between us. Toll bridge over the river, they turned it into a little tourist trap a while back. Not a whole lot there, but there is a decent sized hotel.”

  Zion nodded thoughtfully. “Which we can use to stash people while we get everyone to safety,” he added.

  “Exactly,” Fingers said. “However…”

  Zion groaned. “Fuck, what now?”

  “I found a report on it from a couple of weeks ago,” came the reply, “and it’s overrun with those things.”

  Zion sighed. “You’re killing me, man.”

  “Don’t worry,” Fingers said quickly, “if you can send me some people, I can sneak up there with a few party favors and help you clear it out.”

  Zion glanced at Mateo. “You think you can handle that?”

  “If that’s where you need me,” his companion replied with a firm nod.

  Zion smiled at him in appreciation. “All right, I’m sending you a few guys,” he said into the radio. “Mateo is your point man. He’s a bladed badass, so you can’t miss him.”

  “Look forward to it,” Fingers replied. “If memory serves, there’s a little restaurant across the street from the hotel. Let’s rendezvous there.”

  Mateo gave a thumbs up, and Zion nodded.

  “He’ll be there,” he said. “Appreciate it, man.”

  Fingers took a deep breath. “Anytime, bud,” he replied. “Anytime.”

  The line went silent, and Zion tossed the microphone on the table. “Cheryl, does that timeline even work?” he asked. “I didn’t want to say anything with him on the line, as we don’t have any other options.”

  She held up a hand as she finished scribbling some more math on the scrap sheet. “Okay…” she began, shaking her head. “Assuming that the horde is reaching the crossroads in four hours, and assuming Wendy gets back here within ninety minutes…” She scribbled some more. “Forty-five minutes each way to the hotel… shit. We need four and a half hours to get that last group loaded up and on the move.”

  Zion drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly. “Thirty minutes,” he said thoughtfully. “We can buy thirty minutes.”

  “Let’s get those engines for the loppers and we’ll be in business,” Calvin piped up.

  Cheryl swiveled to face them. “Engines?” she asked. “Wait, where are you boys going?” she demanded.

  “Super Garden Center,” Zion replied.

  She shook her head immediately, letting out a deep sigh. “Well, if you’re going to go there, you might as well get everything you possibly can,” she replied, knowing there was no time to argue. “There’s a moving truck place about a half a mile up on Weiss street. They should have some trailers you can hitch to the back of your truck.”

  “That’s a detour worth taking,” Zion agreed.

  Mateo raised a hand. “What about me?”

  “Cheryl, see if you can round up a few boys to help Mateo clear the hotel,” Zion said.

  She nodded and got to her feet. “Do you want some to go with you, too?”

  He shook his head. “No, we’re doing a hit and run to get this stuff,” he replied. “And besides, we need to get people and supplies staged in the parking gar
age. Every second is going to count. We need to be ready.”

  She nodded and waved to Mateo. “Okay, if you want to follow me, I’ll get you set up,” she said, and then pointed to Zion and Calvin. “You two stay safe.”

  “Always,” Zion replied as she left with Mateo in tow.

  He and Calvin went back to the stairs in silence, walking with purpose towards their daunting task. When they reached the garage, the students were furiously at work on the loppers. They welded large metal poles together, sticking out like a multi-pronged helicopter blade.

  As Zion and Calvin headed to their truck, the former noticed Tori approaching, and he elbowed his companion. “I think your girl wants some sugar,” he whispered, and then hopped into the driver’s seat.

  Calvin shoved his hands in his pockets, nervous as she reached him.

  “Time to go to the mall?” she asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  He tried to act casual and suave, but came up short with his country boy twang. “Yeah, Zion and I are gonna go get what you need.”

  “Just remember, the bigger the better,” she replied.

  “I’ll get you a big one, don’t you worry,” he said, and then they both paused before he blushed as she laughed at the double entendre. “The mower will be big… but I mean that’s not to say I’m small… I- um…”

  She laughed harder, and then Calvin joined in, unable to stop himself. He took her hand, pulling it up to his chest and stroking her knuckles gently. The laughter died away, and they stared at each other warmly. Tori licked her lips.

  The horn blared, startling them both.

  “Jesus christ man, will you kiss her already?” Zion bellowed from the driver’s side window. “We got shit to do!”

  The two blushed and smiled shyly, and then Calvin leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. It was short and sweet, but spoke more than either could put into words. He pulled away and darted into the truck, and Tori gave a little wave before rushing back off to work.

  Calvin fumbled with his seat belt and then noticed Zion grinning widely at him. “What?” he demanded.

  “Proud of my playa!” Zion exclaimed. “Yeah!”

  His friend chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s get moving,” he mumbled.

  “Yes sir, Mister Playa!” Zion declared, and fired up the truck. He shot Calvin one more wink before peeling out of the garage.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Zion and Calvin stopped about a block away from the moving place, the only light coming from a solar-powered street light above the parking lot. There were a few zombies milling about in the lot, only faint shadows of movement in the distance.

  “Got a couple of ‘em hanging out on the corner, but can’t see much past that,” he said.

  Calvin looked around the side of the truck, making sure it was safe to step out. He popped out and raised his rifle, looking through the scope. As he peered into the darkness, he could make out several moving figures about fifty yards from the moving business.

  “Can’t tell exactly how many there are,” he replied, “but it looks like it’s more than we want to deal with.”

  Zion nodded. “We’re gonna have to act quick, then,” he said, and got out of the truck. He motioned for his companion to switch sides. “Come on, you drive.”

  Calvin closed the passenger door and jogged around to the driver’s seat, and Zion hopped up into the truck bed. He opened the little back window.

  “What do you want me to do?” Calvin asked.

  Zion raised his trusty wooden weapon. “Drive up alongside them and I’ll handle the rest,” he said with a grin. “Then find the first trailer you can and back it up.”

  The sniper nodded. “I’ll cover you while you get it hitched up,” he said.

  Zion smacked the hood and Calvin hit the gas, speeding off towards the moving truck depot. As he reached the lot, he quickly turned in, moving just to the left of the two ghouls. Zion leaned over and swung from the bed, catching one zombie on the side of the head before stabbing down into the top of the other one.

  Calvin scanned the lot, finally seeing a ten-foot trailer beside the building. “Got one, hang on!” he called, and flipped the truck into reverse, flooring it.

  Zion widened his stance to keep his balance, and then moved to the back of the bed, motioning left and right to help Calvin line up the hitch properly.

  “We’re good!” he finally called. “Cover me!” He hopped out of the truck and grabbed the heavy metal trailer. He lifted it and dragged it towards the hitch, straining under the weight. Come on, come on, he urged himself, and gave a great heave, lifting it up.

  Calvin stood on the edge of the door, scanning the lot. One creature emerged from the darkness, rotted face illuminated by the spotlight. The sniper quickly aimed and put it down with a clean headshot.

  Zion startled, arms still straining as he tried to line up the trailer. “We got incoming?”

  “Just a straggler,” Calvin replied. He glanced to the left and noticed several creatures staggering into the lot. “Okay, more than just a straggler,” he amended. “How much time you need?”

  “Just another minute,” he grunted, and finally managed to line up the trailer over the hitch and drop it. He fiddled with it a bit as Calvin dropped a few of the closest zombies and then shook his head. “Fuck it, going to have to do,” he muttered, and then clambered back up into the truck bed. “We’re good, let’s roll!” he yelled.

  Calvin ducked back into the cab and floored it, moving away from the zombies and back down the way they’d come. When they made it a few blocks away to relative safety, he stopped so Zion could get back inside.

  “How’s it looking?” Calvin asked.

  His companion shrugged as he jumped into the passenger seat. “Well, it’s still behind the truck,” he replied, “so I guess it’s good.”

  “Good enough for me,” the sniper agreed.

  Zion jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You good handling this?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah, just like I’m back on the farm,” Calvin assured him with a grin.

  Zion returned the smile. “Then drive us off to the mall then, farm boy.”

  “I thought I was a playa?” the sniper asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Zion chuckled. “Only when your woman is around,” he said.

  Calvin rolled his eyes playfully, and then turned down a side street, heading around the mini-horde. He drove slowly, making sure the trailer was properly attached. Finally, after several blocks, they reached the edge of the mall parking lot.

  The City of Roses Mall was a mammoth structure that housed five anchor stores and another two hundred smaller ones. It was a two-story beast, state-of-the art circa 1995, with multiple entrances outside of the anchor stores. Now, it was home to a few thousand zombies.

  The two men sat in the truck, staring at their target, the Super Garden Center, one of the newer anchor stores. Calvin popped the truck into park, and stepped out with his stomach clenched, raising his rifle.

  His heart sank as he scanned the store through his scope. The interior of the store was dimly lit via several emergency lights, as were most areas of the mall. Solar powered and installed as an anti-theft deterrent, it was a boon and the only reason the boys had any chance of succeeding.

  While the lights were vital, unfortunately they had the byproduct of attracting huge numbers of zombies. There were easily hundreds just at the garden center, with even more inside the mall. While there was tremendous movement inside the store, at least there were only a handful of ghouls outside.

  Calvin scanned the doors, four sets of double glass, with several of them open. Rigid steel beams reinforced the frames.

  “Well, the good news is,” he began, taking a deep breath, “we have lights.”

  Zion pursed his lips. “And the bad?”

  “It appears as though they’ve attracted every zombie in a five mile radius,” the sniper replied, and sat back down in the driver’s seat with a huff. They sat in si
lence for a moment, and then he glanced over at his friend. “How we looking on time?”

  Zion checked his watch. “Three-twenty left on the clock.”

  Calvin scrubbed his hands down his face. “Ideas?”

  “Kinda hoping you had one,” Zion admitted.

  The sniper sighed. “Originally I was thinking we just drive right in through the front door,” he suggested. “But it would be a hell of a risk with those beams.”

  “Agreed,” Zion said. “But if we can find a loading door entrance…”

  Calvin nodded thoughtfully. “Attack it from the inside,” he finished. “I like it. Let’s see what we can find.”

  He popped the truck back into gear, and they drove around the outer edge of the lot, headlights off to avoid detection. As they drove, they stared at the mall, seeing some smaller entrances illuminated, with several zombies coming in and out of the building.

  They had no luck until they reached the other side of the ball. One of the department store anchors had a gaping hole through the front of the store, mangled metal hanging from the top of the structure, with a ten-foot wide hole resulting from a crash. A few bodies lay scattered on the ground in front of the doors.

  “Looks like somebody really wanted in,” Calvin muttered.

  Zion nodded. “Looks like they had a head of steam, too,” he said.

  “Let’s see what I can see,” Calvin said, and parked again. He hopped out after a cursory sweep and then inspected the hole with his scope. Several zombies roamed around it, but he was more interested on the inside. “Looks like whoever was driving was a speed demon, because they got pretty deep into the store.”

  Zion raised an eyebrow. “How deep?” he asked. “Can we get the truck and trailer through?”

  “Deep enough that I can’t see it,” Calvin replied. “Shouldn’t be a problem to get inside. Question is… then what?”

  Zion shook his head. “Man, I only came to this mall once,” he admitted. “Only thing I really remember is that it’s a big ole bitch.”

  “Good to know we have enough room to drive, though,” Calvin pointed out.

  “That’s not a problem,” Zion agreed. “What is a problem, is going to be figuring out how to buy ourselves enough time to load the mowers into the trailer.”

 

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