Dead America The Third Week | Book 11 | Dead America, Carolina Front, Part 7

by Slaton, Derek

  DEAD AMERICA: THE THIRD WEEK

  BOOK 11: CAROLINA FRONT - PT 7

  BY DEREK SLATON

  © 2020

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +21

  Terrell sat by the window of a small rundown motel, peering out into the darkness. It had only been a few hours since they’d been forced to leave Clinton by the Boss. He couldn’t dwell on it too much, however, since it wasn’t the first time in his career that he had been forced out of a bad situation.

  As he stared outside at the dimly lit moonlit street of the tiny town, he allowed his mind to wander, and naturally it turned back to Walter. Losing the kid due to his own stupidity. He reached for his gun, checking to make sure it was loaded. That was a mistake he would never make again.

  As Terrell put down the weapon, he noticed movement outside, a couple of shambling figures about twenty yards away.

  No matter where we go, these things are always there, he thought bitterly, and got up from his seat. He headed to the door and unlatched the deadbolt.

  The click roused Coleman, who had been crashed out on the king-sized bed next to Miles, who continued to snore loudly.

  “Everything okay, Cap?” Coleman asked, voice still thick with sleep.

  Terrell nodded. “Yeah, just a couple of strays.”

  “Need some help?” his friend asked, rubbing his eyes.

  The Captain shook his head. “Nah, I’m good,” he said. “You get some rest.” Terrell gently opened and shut the door behind him, walking out towards the parking lot. His light footsteps were enough to excite the ghouls working their way towards him. They moaned, opening their mouths with hunger, stretching their arms towards their fresh meal.

  Terrell casually approached the first one, a young pallid figure in tattered bloody jeans and a t-shirt, kicking it squarely in the chest and knocking it to the ground. He pulled his knife from its sheath and slammed it down into the skull of the other one, a heavyset blonde that looked like it had been in its fifties when it died.

  He watched emotionlessly as what had once been a woman collapsed to the ground in a heap. He was just numb to it all. After a few seconds of staring, he heard the other creature starting to get up. Moving without a sense of urgency, Terrell pulled the knife from the first creature and slammed it through the eye socket of the second.

  He glanced around the dimly lit parking lot, searching for any other movement. When he was confident there was done, he pulled his knife, wiped it on the now-still corpse, and headed back inside.

  As he quietly closed the door behind him, Coleman took a sip from a lukewarm bottle of water, sitting in the chair Terrell had previously occupied while they slept.

  “Looking pretty casual out there, Cap,” Coleman said softly.

  Terrell shrugged. “They were pretty dinged up, so not much of a threat.”

  “Still,” his friend dragged out the word, “it’s not like you to take your time with them.”

  The Captain nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t respond, heading to the window and taking a seat opposite him. “You’ve still got another forty-five minutes, why don’t you get some rest?” he asked.

  “Nah, I’m good,” Coleman replied, shaking his head. “Not really sleeping anyway.”

  As if on cue, Miles let out a loud snort and rolled over in his sleep, pulling the covers into a cocoon around his body.

  Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem for him,” he said.

  “Some people are special,” Coleman replied.

  They stared out the window for a time, side by side, the silence stretching out, and not into comfortable companionship.

  “So,” Coleman finally said, picking at a loose thread in his pants, “you wanna talk about it?”

  Terrell shook his head immediately. “Not really,” he replied. “Would rather focus on what’s ahead of us.”

  “So what is ahead of us, Cap?” Coleman asked.

  The Captain chuckled darkly. “Hell if I know, buddy.”

  “Well, we know for sure heading north is out,” Coleman said with a sigh.

  “At least until we get an army big enough to wipe the smile off of that smug asshole’s face,” Terrell added, clenching a fist.

  Coleman shrugged. “Well, let’s start finding us one, then,” he suggested.

  “Surprisingly upbeat of you,” Terrell replied, not meeting his gaze.

  His companion leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted, “but didn’t see any coffee, so I gotta do something to wake up.”

  “How about a short walk?” Terrell asked, getting to his feet.

  Coleman cocked his head. “Where we going?”

  “Hotel office,” the Captain replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “They might have a map with all of the tourist trap brochures.”

  Coleman motioned to Miles, still sound asleep in his burrito. “What about him?”

  “Eh, he’ll be fine,” Terrell replied, waving a hand at the bed.

  He led them out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them, and then headed up the sidewalk towards the office. They kept a watch on their surroundings for movement, but didn’t see anything.

  Six doors down, the front office was busted in, with dried blood stains around the frame. Terrell shook his head at the sight, knowing that the manager probably hadn’t fared too well from this attack. Just to be safe, he drew his knife before stepping inside, doing a quick sweep to make sure it was secure.

  The front area had a small coffee station and a rack of tourist trap brochures. He peeked behind the counter, seeing bloodstains on the other side, but no body. He tugged on the door leading to the back office to make sure it was secured.

  “Problems?” Coleman asked.

  Terrell shook his head. “If there is, it ain’t getting out,” he said.

  His companion reached the rack and scanned the brochures. “Water park, outlet mall… oh, hey Cap, here we go, gold mining!”

  “Hell yeah,” Terrell replied with a laugh, “let’s go strike it rich. Retire to some nice deserted island.”

  Coleman shook his head with a grin. “Deserted?” he asked. “I was kind of hoping for a full service bar and maybe a bikini clad lady or twelve.”

  “A man can dream,” Terrell replied wistfully.

  Coleman continued to scan the rack of brochures, finally finding a map of the Carolinas. He set it down on the table where the coffee would normally have been, and spread it out. Terrell leaned against the counter and watched as his partner traced his finger along the highway leading south out of Clinton.

  “Okay, best guess is that we are somewhere south of Elizabethtown,” Coleman mused. “I don’t think this place is big enough to actually have a spot on the map.”

  Terrell nodded. “Explains why the place is empty.”

  “So, looks like we’re about forty miles or so away from the South Carolina State Line,” Coleman said, leaning back. “To be honest, with where we are and having the north cut off, we don’t really have a lot of options.”

  The Captain chewed his lip for a moment as he studied the map where his friend was pointing. “We’re not too far away from Wilmington, which has got to be a total shitshow,” he murmured.

  “Without a doubt.” Coleman nodded. “I’m pretty sure some of our boys were casting off from there.”

  Terrell sighed. “Which means locals and everybody else within a hundred miles were going there to hitch a ride.” He shuddered.

  “Safe to say that’s out as an option,” Coleman said.

>   The Captain scanned the map some more. “We aren’t too far away from the interstate,” he said. “Could always head up to Charlotte and see what Kyle is up to.”

  “Bastard is probably lounging around in the stadium, playing Xbox on the jumbotron,” Coleman said dryly, and they shared a chuckle at the mental image.

  “Only other major cities on the map are Columbia and Charleston,” Terrell continued, “both of which are major hauls.”

  Coleman nodded. “One’s the capitol and the other is a port town, so not really a fan of either option.”

  “So no bright ideas?” Terrell asked.

  His friend looked back over at the rack, prompting an exasperated laugh from the Captain. After studying for a moment, he picked out a brochure for the South Carolina Lowcountry.

  “I mean, we could just head to the Lowcountry,” he suggested.

  Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Lowcountry?” he asked.

  Coleman scanned the brochure. “Says here it’s a laid back small town experience that provides cocktails, fishing, and a relaxing lifestyle,” he reported.

  Terrell grabbed the brochure, looking at pictures of men fishing, people on patios drinking, and a crawfish festival. “I wouldn’t say no to some crawfish,” he quipped.

  “I figure if we head that way, we’ll be in the sticks,” Coleman continued, “so resistance will be minimal.”

  Terrell sighed and set the brochure down on the counter. “Lowcountry it is, then,” he declared. “Can’t be any worse than where we currently are.”

  “Or where we’ve been,” Coleman added.

  The Captain took a deep breath. “Now, the next question is,” he began, “do we actually have the goods to get us down there?”

  “SUV has about a half a tank left, so we’ll have to stop,” Coleman said. “Got plenty of food and water, probably last us a good ten days or so if we’re careful.”

  Terrell cocked his head. “And ammo?”

  “We have about a hundred and twenty rounds for our assault rifles,” Coleman replied, wrinkling his nose. “Another sixty for our hand guns. And I’ve got twenty rounds for my sniper rifle.”

  The Captain sighed. “Well, as long as the trouble is minimal like it is here, then we’ll be fine.”

  As the last word came out of his mouth, he caught movement outside from the corner of his eye. When he peered out the window, he saw a figure moving quickly, darting behind bushes across the street.

  “Lean back out of sight,” he demanded.

  Coleman quickly ducked down, leaning back against the wall. “What is it, Cap?” he asked.

  Terrell continued to stare out the window, looking for more movement. After several moments, he saw nothing. “I think we got company,” he murmured.

  “Zombies?” Coleman asked.

  Terrell shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Shit,” his partner replied, “my guns are in the truck.”

  “There are a couple of assault rifles in the room,” Terrell replied, but that didn’t help them immediately either. He turned around and headed for the door leading to the back office. He turned the knob as he drew his knife, and threw it open.

  On the ground was a body that looked like it had been chewed up by a horde. It struggled to move, but there wasn’t enough of its limbs to do it. He drove the knife down into the back of its head.

  “We gotta get back to the room,” he said.

  Coleman started for him, but the Captain put up a hand.

  “This is gonna sound crazy,” he said slowly, “but I need you to stay here.”

  His partner gaped at him. “For what?” he demanded. “I don’t have a weapon!”

  Terrell looked around behind the counter, reaching under and feeling around beneath the till. “Jackpot,” he said, and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun, tossing it to him.

  Coleman checked it, and made sure it was loaded. “It’s gonna be point blank or nothing with this,” he said.

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Terrell replied, and threw him a wink before heading to the back of the office. He slid open the small window on the back wall, and slithered through it to the back of the building.

  He stayed pinned against the outer wall as he headed for his room, counting the windows as he went. When he reached the sixth one, he jimmied open the lock on the window with his knife, and then pulled himself through, crawling onto the bathroom sink.

  He stumbled on the porcelain, but made his fall as gentle as he could, catching himself on the toilet. His feet hit the linoleum with a light thud, and he froze, listening. The only noise was Miles’ muffled snoring through the door, and a smile curled his lips at the sound. Snoring meant living.

  He got up off of the ground, and peeked through the crack in the bathroom door. He could heart footsteps on the pavement now, and sprung to action. He darted across the room towards his gun that was propped up behind the door, but as soon as he reached the bed, gunfire erupted, ripping through the front window.

  He hit the floor, and Miles snorted awake.

  “What the fuck, guys?” he barked, still half-asleep.

  Terrell reached up and grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him down onto the floor with him.

  “What the hell is going on?!” Miles demanded, eyes wide now.

  “Somebody doesn’t like us!” Terrell bellowed.

  Miles’ mouth opened and closed. “Uh, ya think?!” he finally cried.

  The gunfire subsided before there was a loud banging on the front door. The first hit destroyed the door handle, but the deadbolt held. Terrell immediately dove for it, making a play for the guns. Before he could reach it, the door exploded inwards, but he threw his body against it, slamming it shut again.

  He quickly grabbed the rifles and slid them back to Miles, who scrambled to aim at the door. Their attackers fired through the cheap wood, forcing Terrell to dive for cover to the side. They kicked the door in and Miles squeezed off a couple of three-round bursts, unfortunately only hitting one man in the arm. Somebody else grabbed the man and pulled him aside to safety.

  “Clear!” Miles cried, and Terrell slid across the floor, slamming the door shut and flipping the emergency frame lock to hold it closed, at least for the time being.

  He grabbed the other assault rifle in the corner, and took up position at the window. As he peered out, he saw the injured man being carried back across the street by his partner, another man breaking cover from the bushes to help them.

  “How many we dealing with?” Miles asked as he flattened himself against the other side of the window.

  Terrell shook his head. “At least half a dozen, probably more,” he replied.

  “Shit,” Miles muttered. “Where’s Coleman?”

  “Office,” the Captain replied.

  Miles took a deep breath, shaking the last of his grogginess from his body. “What’s the play?”

  “Still working that one out,” Terrell admitted, “but one thing’s for sure. We gotta get to the SUV.”

  He looked out the window again, seeing a trio of men come up from the right. He aimed and fired through the shattered glass, sending half a dozen bullets downrange. He missed, and they returned fire, shattering more of what was left of the window above him as they darted for cover.

  “That’s three more,” he said.

  Miles pursed his lips. “You want me to go out the back and try and flank them?” he asked.

  “Nah, I want to make them think I’m only focused on the right side,” Terrell replied. He glared out the window, seeing lots of movement across the street. He squeezed off a few more shots straight ahead and to the right, acting like he was ignoring the left flank.

  Several shots from the distance came flying through the window, some of them damaging the SUV outside.

  “You got the keys?” Terrell asked.

  Miles patted his pockets, and finally pulled them out. “Right here!”

  “Okay, when we hear a shotgun go off, get to the truck,” the Captain instruct
ed. “I’ll give as much cover fire-” He popped up and fired to the right as he spotted more movement. “As much cover fire as I can. Don’t care where you get, just get us the hell away from here.”

  More shots poured into the building, and he returned fire, but then the gun clicked empty.

  “Dammit, I’m out,” Terrell said. “Ammo’s in the truck.” He slid the gun over to Miles, who swapped him his still mostly loaded rifle. Terrell immediately went back on patrol, waiting for someone to move.

  Just up the sidewalk to the left, Coleman watched from inside the office. Two men came out from cover across the street, sprinting across the road and taking up position by the building. The second one tapped the leader on the shoulder to move up.

  As they headed away from him, Coleman darted out from the office, running up behind them. His footsteps were loud enough that the one in the back turned around, but all he could do was widen his eyes before Coleman blew his head open like a cantaloupe with an M80 stuffed inside.

  The soldier immediately rushed forward as the other enemy turned to fire, and he grabbed the barrel of the gun and forced it away from him as a few shots went wild. Coleman delivered a vicious throat strike, sending the man to the ground. He held the weapon as the gun fell and sprinted for the SUV.

  Bullets whizzed by him, prompting him to fire wildly as he ran. “Let’s move, Cap!” he screamed.

  Terrell burst from the motel door, opening fire at the figures in the darkness. Several muzzle flashes emerged and bullets flew past them. One of them grazed his arm as he ran to the backseat.

  “Motherfucker!” he hissed in pain.

  As Terrell and Coleman laid down suppressing fire, Miles leapt into the driver’s seat. The other two dove into the vehicle as the engine sprang to life.

  “We’re moving!” Miles warned and flung the SUV in reverse, making a hard turn onto the road.

  Terrell fired wildly out the back window, hoping it would pin the enemies down. Bullets peppered the vehicle from the side, and Coleman fired over the Captain through the side window.

  “Stay low!” he barked.

  Miles dropped the SUV into gear and sped off into the night. After a few moments of wild driving, the firing stopped, and the trio breathed a tentative sigh of relief.