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

by Slaton, Derek

  Got it, he thought, and focused on what he could make out of the door, disheartened that it seemed to be wide open. The door opened inward into a stairwell, and his stomach sank when he realized he’d have to reach in to get at it. He watched for another moment, seeing a steady but not overwhelming stream of zombies coming out.

  Before opening the door to the car, he reached up and yanked off the top light cover, smashing the tiny bulbs inside. The last thing he wanted to do was attract attention to himself by shining a light on his face.

  He slid out the door, taking a knee beside the back wheel. He readied his knife, and unattached the top of his holster so his handgun was readily available just in case he needed it. He studied the situation, seeing half a dozen zombies streaming from the door, spread out about five yards or so from each other.

  A quick scan of the lobby showed that it was the only source of the creatures. He looked outside, seeing the parking lot filled with them, the occasional gunshot and muzzle flash in the distance.

  As he psyched himself up to go, there was another large explosion in the distance, rattling the windows of the building. If they weren’t coming before, he thought bitterly, they will now.

  He immediately broke cover, moving to the back wall by the desk and trying to remain hidden by the darkness. When he reached ten yards of the door, he broke off, running over to it with his knife in the air.

  The footsteps alerted a zombie a few steps away from the door, who turned and moaned, struggling to find the source of the noise. The lighting was just enough that he could see the monster, so he quickly stabbed it in the head.

  More moans came from the door, as well as behind him as the body hitting the floor had drawn one of the zombies back. He darted around, grabbing the retreating zombie and throwing it towards the door, hoping that the impact would be far enough away that it wouldn’t bring back any others.

  He stepped forward, stabbing the fallen creature. As he pulled the knife out, the first door zombie reached him, grabbing onto his knife hand with its rotted claws. Michael struggled to avoid the bite, twisting his wrist as he went. More moaning echoed in the stairwell, multiple mouths calling out in unison for a fresh meal.

  “Fuck it,” he grunted, and drew his handgun with his free hand. He put it right up to the forehead of the latched-on zombie and pulled the trigger. The sound echoed loudly in the small space, and back into the lobby, immediately causing a number of creatures to reverse course.

  Michael didn't waste time, knowing he suddenly had significantly less of it. He immediately dropped the knife to secure the handgun for better aim and opened fire on the zombies in the doorway. It took several shots to put down the trio in and around the area, but he dropped them.

  Moans and footsteps grew louder behind him, but he was more concerned with the echoing sounds in the stairwell. He darted forward, shoving the dead creatures away from the door so he could close it.

  There were several zombies on the landing above, staggering towards the last set of stairs. The excitement got to them, and the front couple bounced down the stairs, face first, bodies creating cushions for their excited brethren to slide down.

  Michael went into overload, shoving the corpses as quickly as he could before grabbing onto the door and pulling it shut. One of the fallen creatures reached out, grabbing the base of the door as he tried to secure it. He kicked hard, freeing the arm, the sound of the door slamming like music to his ears.

  He whipped around to face the half-dozen zombies within a few yards of him. He raised his gun and fired three quick shots, dropping the lead ghoul. He aimed at the next one, but when he squeezed the trigger, there was only a dull click.

  He looked around frantically for his dropped knife, but couldn't find it in the darkness. So Michael did the only thing he could do, which was to try and escape. He ran to the back wall, moving up against it quickly to avoid being caught. The ghouls followed his footsteps, snarling with hunger.

  When he reached the front desk, he looked outside and saw a small wall of creatures moving back towards him, drawn by the handgun fire. He hesitated, knowing he’d never survive fighting his way out.

  He slid across the hood of the car, landing a quickly throwing open the door and leaping inside. He secured the locks and hit beneath the jacket again. He breathed heavily as one of the zombies reached the car, hands smacking wetly against the windows.

  Okay buddy, he thought, I did my part, now hurry up and do yours so you can come rescue my ass!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bryan watched his friend careening through the crowd of zombies in the sedan, disappearing into the lobby of the hotel. The bulk of the zombie horde in the parking lot began to turn around to follow the vehicle, prompting him to ready the hunting rifle.

  He took aim, honing in on the back of a zombie’s head and firing. Due to the distance and darkness, he missed badly, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that the noise got the creature to turn around and head towards him instead.

  “Come on bud, you can do better than that,” he berated himself, and aimed again. This time his bullet punched through the zombie’s face. He didn’t stop to admire his handiwork, instead immediately firing at the next monster.

  After four quick shots, he lowered his weapon to get a read on things. The majority of the zombies were heading towards him, dozens of them, all shambling across the lot, the closest being fifty yards away.

  “Well, at least this part of the plan is working,” he muttered, and fired a few more times before pausing to reload.

  With his gun ready for action again, he stood up to begin retreating. He scanned the lot and made sure every single zombie in sight lumbered towards him. He ran across the street to the back end of the restaurant. The door had been completely removed, and it was a bit larger than a standard doorway because it was for deliveries.

  He darted inside, did a quick sweep to make sure it was still clear, and then took up position in the open doorway. He aimed his gun and fired a few more rounds, making sure the undead knew exactly where he was. As he stood and waited for them to get there, another bomb went off in the distance.

  “Hopefully they’re getting the job done up there,” Bryan murmured, and took a deep breath as the horde got within ten yards of the door.

  He backed up, remaining in the hallway leading to the kitchen, to continue to make sure the creatures knew he was there. “That’s it!” he called. “Come and get some!”

  The first zombie made it to the doorway, with several others excitedly approaching behind it. Bryan walked slowly backwards into the kitchen, a large area that could have easily housed a dozen line cooks.

  The monsters filtered into the building, and he fired off another shot to make sure the others kept on coming. The round hit a zombie in the shoulder, not slowing it down even a little.

  Bryan reached the swinging doors to the dining room and kicked down the doorstop as he backed through it to make sure they stayed open. It took several minutes, but a few dozen creatures found their way into the dining room. He made his way over to the front door, waiting on the horde to get a little thicker before bailing out.

  When they were within breathing distance, he turned to leave, but several zombies pushed against the glass from the outside. He snapped back, pulling up his gun and firing. The bullet shattered the window on the door, dropping the zombie, but freed up the space for several more to push into the gap.

  Bryan stood there, petrified and dumbfounded, until a rotted hand grabbed him from behind. The grip was tight, but his reaction was to jerk away, narrowly sparing him from a lethal bite to the face.

  He shoved the zombie back and retreated around the empty space on the side of the dining room. He frantically flipped tables towards the growing mass of creatures, buying him precious seconds. He looked around, seeing zombies coming down every available avenue of escape.

  He contemplated just making a run for the fire exit near the kitchen, but there were easily a dozen creat
ures blocking his path. As he frantically looked around, the zombies backed him into the corner.

  Panic set in as they grew closer. He finally turned around and began firing wildly at the windows. Three quick rounds pierced one, shattering it, and he ran as hard as he could towards it, putting his foot on a booth cushion and diving forward.

  The glass wasn’t completely clear of the window, several shards cutting into his arms and stomach as he flew through it. He landed hard on the ground, the wind flying from his lungs, and he laid there, gasping for air.

  At the sound of footsteps, he struggled to flip over and aimed his rifle from the hip.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Mateo cried, raising his hands.

  Bryan dropped the rifle with a gasp of relief, and Mateo and Fingers knelt down to help him up.

  “Jesus, man, are you okay?” Mateo asked as Bryan staggered to his feet.

  He looked down at his wounds and winced. “It’s not a bite,” he said through clenched teeth. “I took a header out the window and took some damage.”

  Mateo studied him for a moment, checking over his wounds just to be sure.

  Bryan grunted and shoved them away, bracing himself on his knees to catch his breath. “Christ man, you can strip search me if you fucking want to,” he spat.

  Mateo raised his hands again, nodding. “It’s all good, man,” he replied gently. “Can’t be too careful, you know.”

  Bryan nodded, his anger fading, as Fingers stepped away to the front of the restaurant. He shook his head at the huge hole in the door.

  “Supposed to be a barricade, dumbass,” he muttered, and pulled a lighter from his pocket. He found the fuse on the outside of the store, and lit it, watching it vanish into the building. He headed around where his companions still were and found the other two fuses. “You might wanna back up a little bit,” he warned, and lit them.

  The trio moved away from the eatery, heading towards the back and in the direction of the hotel. When they reached the rear, there were a few more zombies still pushing to get into the building.

  Fingers waved for the men to join him behind some bushes. “We’ll have a little cleanup to do,” he said quietly, “but the bulk of them should be taken care of.”

  Mateo nodded. “Let’s hope that this one isn’t a-”

  Before he could say ‘dud,’ a gigantic boom echoed from within the restaurant. Every window in the building exploded, and part of the roof caved in. A fire licked the sky, illuminating the area.

  Fingers smirked. “You were saying?”

  “Looks like that fire is gonna take care of our cleanup,” Mateo replied.

  Fingers nodded. “You’re probably right, but just to be safe,” he said, turning to Bryan, “do you mind staying behind and keeping watch?”

  The wounded man cocked his head. “Where are you off to?” he asked shakily.

  “Go see if Michael got his job done,” Fingers replied, and waved for Mateo to follow him.

  They headed across the street to the hotel parking lot. There were a few dead bodies on the ground as they approached the entrance, and five creatures banging on a car in the lobby.

  “You think he’s in there?” Mateo asked, motioning to the sedan with his cleaver.

  Fingers shrugged. “I think regardless, we gotta take those suckers out.” He drew his handgun and casually led the way into the lobby as Mateo clanged his blades together to draw the zombies’ attention.

  A few of them immediately broke away, shambling towards an easier meal. Mateo leapt forward and made quick work of them with his flashing silver. Fingers took the easy approach, walking up to the two creatures left that were still fixated on the car door, and executing them at point blank range with a bullet to the back of the head.

  Mateo finished off the last remaining zombie on the passenger side and then peered inside.

  Fingers knocked on the driver’s side window. “Hey, anybody alive in there?” he asked.

  Michael dropped the jacket, giving a smile and a thumbs up before opening the door. “Man, am I glad to see you guys,” he blurted. “How we looking?”

  “Just a few stragglers,” Fingers said, “nothing more.”

  Michael nodded as he got out of the car. “Fucking A,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I got the stairwell door secured, but I haven’t checked any of the back rooms in the lobby yet.”

  “It’s all good,” Fingers assured him, “we’ll take care of it together.”

  As they turned towards the back, honking echoed in the lot. They turned around just in time to see two shuttles arriving, stopping just short of the entrance. They stepped out to greet them, and a red-haired figure hopped out first.

  “Are we good?” Wendy asked.

  Fingers nodded. “Yeah, good enough to unload,” he replied. “We got a couple of stragglers to deal with, but we can manage.”

  “Are you sure?” she demanded in her no-nonsense tone.

  He nodded again. “Yeah, it’s safe in the corner of the lobby,” he assured her. “We’ll keep Michael on them as we wrap up. Besides, you still got two more loads to do.”

  She turned away and threw her hand in the air, motioning for the buses to unload. “All right everybody, get a move on!” she barked as people began pouring out. “We’re on a tight timeline here, people!”

  Vulnerable civilians began to unload as quickly as they could from the buses, and Michael and Mateo corralled them into a corner of the lobby. Fingers stepped aside and sidled up next to Wendy, who turned to him with a stern expression.

  “Do you think you’re gonna make it?” he asked quietly.

  She checked her watch. One hour and fifty-two minutes remaining. She pursed her lips. “Hopefully Zion is able to come through with a delay.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Zion sat on the ground just outside of the parking garage. There were a couple of emergency lights set up on either side of the entrance, shooting out into the distance to make sure there would be no unwanted visitors.

  Hammering metal, yelling, welding, and grinding echoed from the garage as the students prepared the loppers to do their job. Zion looked down at his watch. One hour and eight minutes.

  Come on Wendy, we need you here, he thought urgently. Ninety-minute round trip, you should be back here loading up by now.

  He stared out into the distance, jaw clenched, and there was a rustle behind him as Cheryl approached.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

  He motioned for her to sit down next to him, and she did so, the two of them leaning up against the wall. “So how we looking?” he asked.

  “Just heard from Wendy, and they’re getting close,” she replied.

  He checked his watch again, shaking his head as he did the math. “What about Jermaine?”

  “He’s still keeping an eye on the horde,” Cheryl said. “Said he was able to break up a good number of them.”

  Zion rubbed his forehead. “Did he define good number?”

  “He did not,” she said shortly, shaking her head.

  “Let’s hope that brother is being modest,” he said with a sigh. “We’re gonna need a hell of a stand if we’re gonna get everybody out of here.”

  Cheryl nodded, curling her knees up to her chest. “I know,” she agreed. “Just to play it safe, I’ve been prioritizing the most vulnerable being evacuated first. The last bunch heading out are mostly healthy people, with a few of the trainees.”

  “What about the hardcore experienced guys?” Zion asked.

  She shook her head. “Most of them went with the first load,” she explained. “If Mateo and those guys weren’t successful, I wanted to make sure those people had a fighting chance.”

  “Wendy say what the situation was down there?” he asked.

  Cheryl drummed her fingers on her knees. “She didn’t, but it must have been secure enough for her to feel comfortable about leaving those people behind,” she mused.

  “Good enough for me,” Zion replied with a nod.

&n
bsp; Tori poked her head out from the open garage door. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Just wanted to let you know that we need about ten minutes and then we’ll be ready to go.”

  “Thanks,” Cheryl replied with a smile.

  “They looking pretty good?” Zion asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Tori pushed her glasses up her nose and shrugged. “At the very least, it’s going to be interesting to see them in action,” she admitted. “Never seen what a spinning blade can do to the human body. So silver lining, I suppose.”

  Cheryl blinked at her in horror, but Zion simply smiled and chuckled.

  “I can see why Calvin likes you,” he said.

  Tori held up a finger. “Speaking of Calvin, he said he could use your help,” she said.

  “Tell him I’ll be right there,” Zion said, and the small blonde nodded and headed back inside. He got to his feet and offered Cheryl a hand up.

  She shook her head. “I’m just gonna hang out here for a minute,” she said. “Just need to collect myself.”

  “All right,” Zion said, lowering his hand. “Just one thing, though. I want you on this next load.”

  She immediately shook her head, eyes steely. “I’m a leader, which means I don’t leave until everyone does.”

  “You may be a leader,” he replied, “but I’m the leader. I’ll be the last one out, which is exactly why you need to go now.” He crossed his arms. “If this last load doesn’t happen, or if I don’t make it out, these people are gonna need you.” She tried to open her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. “Wendy’s a warrior, same thing with my sister, but you got something they don’t,” he said.

  She pursed her lips. “What’s that?”

  “You know how to bend people to your will,” Zion explained. “I don’t know how receptive Edward is going to be to everybody coming to town, but I do know that if you got your verbal talons into him, there’s a damn good chance it’ll work out.”