Calvin closed his eyes and mentally urged the vehicle forward, and then the truck finally punched through the other side of the creatures. They let out a sigh of relief, and Zion turned to make sure the mowers made it. They were all still on the trailer, although they were a bit bloody.
Calvin turned towards the entrance of the store so they could escape the mall proper.
“Gonna have to hose those things down when we get back,” Zion said, facing front again, “but they’re in one piece.” He checked his watch. “And we still have two hours,” he said.
Calvin shook his head in disbelief. “Holy shit, we might actually pull this off.”
“We just gotta hope your lady is up to the challenge,” Zion said with a smirk.
His friend laughed. “I’d put a lot more money on that than us pulling off what we just did.”
Zion joined in and shook his head. “Ain’t that the damn truth.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mateo watched Fingers climb up the fire escape ladder on the single story building on the corner. The building was large, covering the entire top of the block, reaching both streets with zombies congregating at the end.
Once Fingers was up, he motioned to Mateo, who picked up a large metal pole from the ground and handed it up to him.
“Okay,” Fingers stage-whispered down to him. “Which side do you want to start on?”
Mateo looked around before motioning to the right, the street furthest from the hotel.
Fingers nodded. “Remember to duck at the alley so you don’t get hit by shrapnel,” he said.
Mateo nodded and gave him a less than enthusiastic thumbs up, clearly not thrilled with the plan. But there was nothing else to be done. He had a job.
He peeked around the corner, seeing about eighty zombies standing a hundred yards down. A few of them were banging on a small business door, leading him to believe that at one time someone had been alive in there.
Okay, this is easy, he thought to himself. Just jog down, clank your blades together, and waltz back to cover… surely the seven-fingered man knows what he’s doing. He sighed, realizing his life was in the hands of a man who needed to use both hands to pick up a glass of water.
A moment later, a light whistle came from the top of the building, signaling that Fingers was ready. Mateo burst out from cover and began jogging towards the horde, pulling out his long knife and cleaver as he grew closer.
The bulk of the zombies were focused on the building, a small mom-and-pop shop, with a trio of creatures on the outer rim of the mass, about ten yards away. With the nearest ghouls focused on the horde, Mateo came up silently behind them, swinging the cleaver and taking the head clean off of the first one before quickly stabbing the next one in the side of the head with his knife.
The noise of the falling bodies alerted the third one, but before it could cry out it took a cleaver to the face. While it wasn’t too loud, the crumpling of rotted flesh hitting the pavement peeled a few more zombies from the mass. They shambled forwards, clearing a few yards before their moans really started to amplify.
Well, if they’re going to line up for me, then I’m going to take them out, Mateo thought to himself, and waited for the first creature to reach him. He lashed out quickly with his knife, directly into the ghoul’s eye. Two more creatures came up, staggered a couple feet apart, and Mateo delivered another swing of his cleaver, slicing through the top part of its skull.
The moans and bodies hitting the ground alerted a dozen or so zombies, who had begun to move in his direction. Rather than continue the fight, he slowly began to back up, with the one remaining breakaway zombie keeping pace.
Mateo surveyed the situation. A pack of a dozen behind the lone zombie, with a gap between them and the rest of the horde.
Shit, he thought, they need to be bunched up more if that bomb is going to be effective.
Mateo continued to backpedal, glancing over his shoulder to keep track of his location and potential threats. The alley was now twenty yards behind him, and coming up quickly, the zombies still spread out.
Mateo glanced up on top of the roof, seeing Fingers standing there, waiting with the bomb attached to the end of the metal pole. He flicked his lighter a couple of times, letting him know he was ready to roll.
Mateo nodded and lunged forward, coming at the main breakaway zombie. He grabbed the beast by the shirt and shoved it back towards the dozen, causing a few of them to stumble, allowing the rest of the horde to catch up to them, though eight creatures still remained broken away.
Gonna have to do, he thought to himself, and jogged back to the alley.
“You think you can handle that tiny group?” Fingers called down to him.
Mateo looked down the alley, about six feet wide, butting up against another building that ran the entire length of the block. About two-thirds of the way down was a large dumpster that had been flipped over on its side, blocking the route to the next street.
“Yeah,” he replied, “you just make sure you take those things out, though. I can handle eight. Eighty is another story.”
Fingers gave him a thumbs up. “You just make sure you’re clear of the street,” he reminded him.
Mateo continued to stand at the entrance to the alley, waiting for the eight creatures to close in on him. When they were ten yards away, he slowly backed into the alley, readying his weapons. As he backed up, Fingers lit the fuse on the pole bomb and began to extend it off the corner of the building, positioning it over the edge of the next building, dipping it down so it was right beside the wall.
Mateo made it about halfway down the alley, zombies in pursuit, making sure he was clear of the blast. The first ghoul lunged towards him, and he stabbed it in the face with his knife, dropping it. The next two creatures were almost on top of each other, climbing on the other to get to their meal first.
He swung his cleaver from up high, blunt edge down. The metal weapon cracked the top of the skull of the first creature, and Mateo quickly swung back up, catching his partner underneath the chin, cutting straight through the front part of its face.
He continued to back up as the five remaining zombies navigated the alley and fallen creatures. Mateo grew tense, expecting a large boom to rattle his teeth, but it didn’t come. He glanced up and saw Fingers shaking the pole frantically, but no boom.
Mateo’s attention was refocused quickly when the moan of a zombie grew very loud directly in front of him. He snapped back just in time to face a creature lunging at him, forcing him to react by instinct. He dropped his cleaver and grabbed the zombie by the shirt, shoving it hard against the wall before jamming his knife through the bottom of its jaw.
As it fell, he ducked down and grabbed the cleaver, just as another creature closed in. Mateo glanced back to see he was only ten yards away from the dumpster blockage, so he shoved the lead creature back as hard as he could, giving him some space. As it fell, he knocked down the next couple of zombies, giving him a view of the top of the alley.
The main horde was there, beginning to filter in.
“Fingers!” Mateo bellowed. “What the fuck, man?!” He looked up to see Fingers pulling the pole back up towards him.
As the bomb got close to the building, he cut the cord on it, dropping it to the ground below. He pulled out the small bomb and lit the fuse on it before throwing it down into the alley.
Mateo panicked a bit, seeing a lit bomb headed in his direction, eyes wide.
“Twenty second fuse!” Fingers yelled. “Small yield!”
Mateo realized what he was doing as the bomb clanged on the pavement between him and the oncoming zombies. He dashed forward, picking it up and tossing it underhand towards the closest zombies, rolling it just past them. He immediately turned tail and rushed back towards the dumpers, tossing his blades up on top before quickly pulling himself up.
As he reached the top, the mini-bomb went off.
The echo of the blast in the alleyway was deafening, stunning Mateo momentarily. T
he bomb ripped through several creatures, sending blood and body parts flying through the air. Mateo grabbed his blades and rolled off of the dumpster, landing with a thud on the ground.
“Stay behind the dumpster and keep it in place!” Fingers yelled down to him.
Mateo nodded and watched as his rooftop companion secured another big bomb to the pole. He quickly lit it and lowered it into the alley, which was quickly filling with zombies. Mateo startled when the dumpster began to move due to the weight of the monsters on the other side, so he quickly pushed back.
He strained against it, trying to keep the barricade in place, hoping that this next bomb wasn’t a dud as well.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered, the words like a prayer.
The bomb detonated with a blast exponentially louder than the smaller one, metal clanging like bullets ricocheting off of the dumpster. He flinched when several bits of the shrapnel crashed into the ground behind him.
The weight on the dumpster vanished, and he relaxed his shoulders, looking up at Fingers. The man on the roof glanced down into the alley and nodded. He looked over at Mateo and gave a thumbs up, prompting him to climb back up onto the dumpster.
The carnage was horrific, with dozens of bodies ripped to shreds in the alley, looking like they’d been pureed with a blender. Some of them continued to move, writhing around despite having no proper limbs to do anything with.
“I’ll go ahead and tell you right now,” Mateo said, motioning to the zombie stew, “I ain’t cleaning this up.”
Fingers chuckled, and then moans sounded at the mouth of the alley. There were a dozen creatures down there still remaining, excited to get to Mateo. They slipped as they stepped into the carnage, unable to stay standing as they attempted to shamble through the slick debris.
“They’ll be fine there,” Fingers said, “we need to worry about the other street.”
Mateo nodded and hopped down from the dumpster. He readied his blades as he approached the corner, peering out down the street. He was relieved to see that this group was smaller, about forty zombies or so, and they were all moving as a single unit, no doubt attracted by the bomb.
They were still about fifty yards away, and closing in. Mateo jumped when Fingers started talking, having moved just above him.
“This group shouldn’t be too bad,” he said.
Mateo shook his head. “That’s what we thought about the last group, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Fingers replied, scratching the back of his head.
“What the hell happened?” Mateo asked, raising an eyebrow.
His rooftop companion shrugged. “It was just a dud, man, they happen from time to time,” he explained. “But don’t worry, they don’t happen that often.”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Mateo began, pointing a finger at the street, “I’ll wait for you to take out this group from the comfort of the main road up there. My days of luring shit down alleys is over and done with.”
Fingers chuckled and nodded. “Don’t blame you one bit,” he agreed. “Just don’t go too far, because I’ll need you on mop up duty once this thing goes off.”
Mateo gave him a thumbs up before making his way to the top of the street. He glanced back at the horde, thirty yards and closing slowly. “After taking out your friends, you ain’t gonna be nothing,” he muttered.
When he reached the top of the street, he looked back to see Fingers extending the bomb out of the crowd. He took cover behind the wall, resting comfortably against it, waiting for the blast to shred them.
CHAPTER SIX
Bryan and Michael knelt down on the edge of the parking lot by the street, taking cover behind some bushes. They surveyed the front of the hotel, a few dozen zombies lurking by the entrance. Bryan pulled his hunting rifle from his back and looked through the scope.
“What do you see, bud?” Michael asked.
His friend focused on the entrance, seeing the double doors propped open, creatures coming and going as they pleased. There were easily dozens more in the lobby.
“Fuckers are jam packed in there,” he grunted. “Big place too, lobby desk looks like it’s about twenty yards back from the door.”
Michael sighed. “Can you see the stairs?” he asked.
“Too dark to find it on the wall,” Bryan replied, shaking his head. “Can’t see much past the front desk, since there’s an emergency light over it. We just have to assume that it’s wide open like the front door.”
Michael scrubbed his hands down his face. “So how the hell are we doin’ this?” he asked.
“One thing’s for sure,” his friend replied, lowering the rifle, “I’m not singing Baby Got Back.”
Michael shook his head. “First good news I’ve heard today.”
“We gotta figure out a way to get in there to secure the stairs,” Bryan mused. “Or else we’ll just have a constant stream of those things.”
His companion looked over at a car at the far end of the lot. It was an older sedan with bloodstains all over the window.
“Come on,” he said, waving his hand, “I might have an idea.”
They stayed low while moving across the lot over to the car. They ducked down beside it, and Michael peered inside. He recoiled at the sight of a zombie in there, laying in the backseat, writhing around on the leather.
He pulled a knife, motioning for his friend to back up a bit, retreating to the back of the car. He readied his blade before yanking open the back door.
Thankfully, the creature was slow to react, giving him a chance to stab it in the top of the head.
Bryan came back from behind the trunk and crossed his arms. “Congratulations, you killed one that was already secure,” he said dryly.
Michael rolled his eyes before patting the creature down, finally finding a set of keys in its pocket. He held them up and jingled them in front of Bryan’s face.
“Are you kidding me?” his friend demanded, eyes wide. “I know where you’re going with this, and I wish you the best of luck.”
Michael smirked at him. “You aren’t gonna rock, paper, scissors me for the honors?”
“You know damn well that only applies to riding shotgun, and who gets to hit on the hot girl at the bar first,” Bryan shot back, pointing a finger at him. “Ain’t nothin’ in there about suicide runs.”
Michael shrugged. “Fine, be a little bitch,” he said off-handedly.
His friend glared at him and then waved him off. “Well, it’s your ass,” he drawled, “how do you want me to play it?”
Michael studied the hotel for a moment, and then looked back into the car, spotting a large jacket in the passenger seat. “I’m gonna plow right through the front door, and then lay low while you draw them out,” he declared. “Once it’s clear, I’ll get out and secure the doors while you get them to the restaurant.”
“Is that really how you want to do it?” Bryan asked, throwing up his hands.
His friend bit his lip nervously, doubting his own plan. “We’re real short on time,” he insisted. “So I say we go for it.”
Bryan nodded, and then both men jumped at the sound of an explosion in the distance. They glanced in the direction of the blast, not seeing anything before looking back at the hotel. The zombies jerked their heads back and forth, seemingly confused about the location of the noise.
“If that wasn’t the big one, then we’re in a lot of trouble,” Bryan said.
Michael nodded and hopped into the driver’s seat, door still open, turning the key and praying for good news. The vehicle wheezed a few times before it finally sprung to life.
“All right,” he said firmly, “once I’m in, pull them out as quickly as you can. I’d rather not be a box lunch.”
Bryan nodded just as another explosion sounded, this one much bigger, rattling the windows of the car. Despite being several blocks away, the sound resonated, and this spurred the zombies into moving away from the hotel.
>
“Go!” Bryan said and slammed the door.
Michael popped the car into gear and sped towards the horde. He gained speed as he approached the front edge of them, about thirty yards from the entrance to the hotel. Bodies bounced off of the front end, left and right, as he struggled with the car to keep it aimed towards his target.
The double doors were fairly wide, just big enough for a sedan to pass through if driven properly. Unfortunately, the zombies careening off of the vehicle caused Michael to have difficulty steering, and he clipped the right side of the door frame as he entered the building.
The headlights illuminated the lobby, an upscale marble floor open space with formerly high-end furniture now ruined by the undead.
As he hit the marble, he slammed on the brakes, sliding across it and smacking into a few more zombies before coming to rest just short of the front desk. He quickly killed the engine and then laid down, pulling the jacket over him.
He laid back, peeking out through the tiniest of openings, seeing a few zombies congregating at the window. They moaned, smacking their decrepit hands against it, seemingly unsure of what to make of the situation.
Anytime now Bryan, Michael thought, wrinkling his nose at the putrid scent of old, dead flesh in the car.
As if on cue, gunfire erupted outside. Four shots went off in rapid succession, and Michael watched as the creatures by his window slowly lost interest in the car, and wandered off towards the parking lot.
Michael sat silently for another minute, as the gunfire continued in the parking lot. He shifted in his seat so he could see out the passenger side, relieved to see nothing directly by the car. The lights reflecting off of the front desk illuminated the immediate area, but faded the further it got. He could barely make out the far wall, about thirty yards away, and he frantically scanned it for a door, straining his eyes.
He caught the faintest bit of movement, locking in on it and seeing a few more shadowy figures coming from the darkness, attracted to the noise outside. Finally the reflected light caught the flashy tennis shoes of a zombie, lighting up the area just enough that he could see a door frame.
Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 11