Dead America The Third Week (Book 9): Dead America, Carolina Front, Part 5

by Slaton, Derek

  DEAD AMERICA: THE THIRD WEEK

  BOOK 9 - CAROLINA FRONT - PT 5

  BY DEREK SLATON

  © 2020

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +19

  “Okay Walter,” Captain Terrell said, the morning North Carolina wafting over him from the big bay window of the cleared out storefront, “you got one of those things coming up on you. He’s big, gross to look at, and smells like a wet dog that bathed in shit.” He spread his arms. “What are you going to do?”

  The teenager stood across from him, and swallowed hard, tightening his hand around the six-inch knife in his fist. He stared down the hay-filled scarecrow tied to a rolling clothing rack a few yards away that Terrell moved back and forth with his foot.

  “I’m gonna kill it,” Walter declared.

  The older man chuckled. “I like the enthusiasm,” he said, “but I’m gonna need some specifics there. Positive thinking ain’t gonna be enough when this thing comes at you.” He straightened his muscular shoulders.

  Walter raised his chin. “Don’t worry, I got a plan,” he said.

  “Oh, you got a plan, do you?” Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Well, just remember what the great Mike Tyson once said. Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.” He cocked his head. “Or, in this case, everybody has a plan until a zombie latches onto them.”

  The kid waved his free hand forward, bobbing back and forth from foot to foot. “I’m not gonna let you down.”

  “Okay, here it comes,” Terrell said, and then kicked the base of the rolling rack.

  It sailed towards Walter, and the kid prepared to strike. As it came within a hair of him, he darted to the side, extending his leg to trip it up while lashing out with his arm to knock it in the back. The contraption toppled over, crashing down with a loud clatter.

  Walter lunged down without missing a beat, and stabbed the scarecrow in the back of the head. He pulled the blade out triumphantly, sending bits of hay fluttering around the air.

  Terrell clapped as he sauntered over to the kid. “Well done!” he commended with a grin. “Looks like some of the things I’m showing you are sticking.”

  “Yes sir, they are,” Walter replied, nodding firmly. “I’m gonna be a badass just like you in no time.”

  Terrell laughed and held up a hand. “Go easy on me now, I’m old.”

  “Nah, you ain’t old,” the kid said as he stood up. “My daddy wasn’t old when…” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Before all of this. And you look about his age.”

  Terrell wrinkled his nose. “Now I do feel old.”

  They shared a laugh and he threw an arm around Walter’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel like he was the kid brother he’d never had, and he enjoyed bonding with him even over something so grisly.

  “Why don’t you get our zombie set back up, and I’ll show you another move,” Terrell said.

  Walter nodded in excitement. “Okay!” As he scurried for the clothing rack scarecrow, Coleman and Miles strolled in the open door.

  “Knock, knock,” Coleman called.

  Miles stepped in behind him, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “Hope we’re not interrupting,” he said gruffly.

  “Nah, you’re good fellas, come on in,” Terrell said, waving them over.

  The duo, the only other military members in the town, looked over the situation with the scarecrow as Walter set it back up. Coleman headed over to the contraption and inspected it with interest.

  “Impressive training materials here, Cap,” he mused.

  Terrell shrugged. “You know me, making do with what I got.”

  Walter bounced on the balls of his feet, drawing his blade again. “Hey Mister Coleman, you wanna see what I can do?” he asked.

  Coleman glanced at Terrell, who mimed giving the zombie a push.

  “Sure kid,” Coleman said with a shrug, “let’s see what you got.”

  He gave the rack a kick, sending it rolling towards Walter. He executed his tripping move again, giving it a perfect knife strike to the head a second time. The older men nodded in approval.

  “Not bad, kid,” Coleman said as Walter picked up the scarecrow again.

  Miles grinned. “You’ll be out there hunting zombies with us before you know it.”

  “Oh, I’m already hunting zombies, sir,” Walter replied earnestly. “Been out a number of times. Can’t wait to go back out with y’all!”

  Terrell held up a finger. “Only on easy missions,” he said. “You’re a little too young to be tackling the really dangerous stuff.”

  “You training me well,” Walter insisted, “I can take on anything!” He clenched a fist.

  Terrell cracked a smile. “I don’t doubt it, kid.”

  “So are you gonna show me that other move you were talking about?” the teenager asked.

  Coleman cleared his throat. “Afraid that’s going to have to wait,” he said.

  “Something up?” Terrell furrowed his brow.

  “Yeah, Xavier thinks he’s located the ammonium nitrate,” Miles replied.

  The Captain scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Nothing like ‘finding it’ for the fourth time in a week.”

  “This stuff ain’t easy to track down,” Miles reminded him. “Especially in the apocalypse.”

  Terrell sighed. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “But I’ve heard this so many times before, so I’m not holding my breath.”

  “Wanna go hear him out?” Coleman asked. “I mean, it’s not like you have much else to do today.”

  Walter crossed his arms. “Hey, he’s training me!”

  “True,” Coleman replied as he turned to the kid, “but you’re already a badass, right?”

  The teen puffed out his chest. “Heck yeah I am!” He grinned.

  “Okay,” Terrell conceded with a sigh, “let’s go see Xavier and find out what we’re doing today.”

  Walter raised a hand. “Can I come too?” he asked.

  Coleman glanced at the Captain, who contemplated for a moment.

  “Yeah, okay,” Terrell finally said. “You can come to the meeting.”

  Walter let out a whoop, the first time he’d been allowed in a meeting.

  Terrell held up a hand. “Only thing I’m promising is the meeting,” he declared, calming the kid down some. “If it doesn’t look too dangerous, then we’ll talk. I know you’ve been out with us before, but we just gotta make sure you’re safe.”

  Walter smiled, showing his teeth, and nodded like a bobblehead before following them out of the building.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The morning sun blanketed the town of Clinton with a warm glow. The once-sleepy rural town thirty-five miles east of Fayetteville was busy despite the early hour. People moved about, taking advantage of the rain free morning to sort and can veggies before they rotted out.

  Others worked at reinforcing the makeshift barricades on the roads, still being made out of cars, sheet metal, and large hay bales. It was enough to hold back a few zombies, but there was an unspoken concern over how to hold back enemy people.

  The quartet walked across to the center of town, a nice park area bustling with activity. Xavier waved them over to the cook fire, where June and Ruth were cooking up sausages and eggs.

  “Ladies, ladies, ladies!” Coleman declared, spreading his arms. “That is smelling fantastic!”

  June smiled, the wrinkles on her face crinkling. “Well, we know you boys have a busy day ahead of you,” she said.

  “And you can’t have a busy day on an empty stomach,
” Ruth added, grabbing a plate and heaping it with food.

  She handed it to Coleman, and he accepted it with glee. He took a seat, and started eating as the other three took their plates, easily with less food on them.

  “I think it’s clear that I’m the favorite,” Coleman declared through a mouthful of sausage.

  Terrell and Miles shook their heads, smiling at each other.

  “Morning, Xavier,” the Captain greeted.

  The old man nodded sagely. “Gentlemen, good morning,” he said. “Hope the day finds you well.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Terrell admitted. “Depends a lot on what you got for us.”

  Xavier waved them over to the other end of the picnic table. “Come on over, and I’ll tell you.” There was a map spread out across the table, and the four of them moved over. The old man furrowed his brow at Walter. “Hey, son, why don’t you go see if Hoyt needs some help over by the barricade.”

  The teenager gaped at him. “But… but…”

  “It’s okay,” Terrell cut in. “I told him he could come with us.” At Xavier’s concerned gaze, he continued, “Look, he’s been training real hard with me, and including him makes him stay focused. Doesn’t hurt anything to have him here.”

  Xavier pursed his lips and nodded, turning back to the map. “So, gentlemen,” he continued, “I know that we have had some issues tracking down the ammonium nitrate we need for our… diversion.”

  “You can call it a bomb,” Coleman added through a mouthful of eggs.

  “Very well, our bomb,” Xavier corrected, waving his hand. “We struck out a few times, but I believe we have been able to finally track it down. The last farm you investigated had a delivery form in the paperwork you brought back, and we found that they had been given another farm’s papers. According to the records, they were supposed to get a couple hundred pounds of what we need the day before all this began.”

  Coleman swallowed his mouthful and nodded. “So there’s a good chance it actually got delivered then.”

  “That’s my thinking,” Xavier agreed.

  “So where is this one at?” Miles asked, leaning over the map.

  The old man pointed to the top of the paper. “It’s to the east of Mount Olive, about twenty-five miles to the northeast of here.”

  “Oh, I know Mount Olive,” Walter piped up. “Ain’t nothing to that town.”

  Xavier fixed the kid with a hard stare, causing him to wither beneath his gaze and avert his eyes.

  Terrell leaned forward, however. “So there’s nothing in Mount Olive, Walter?” he asked pointedly, including him in the conversation.

  The kid perked up, shaking his head as he regarded the Captain. “Oh, no,” he replied. “It’s about half the size of Clinton. I’d be surprised if there was a zombie left in that place.” He held up a fist. “But if there was, I’d take it out.” He speared a sausage with his fork as if to accentuate his point.

  “No doubt,” Terrell said with a chuckle.

  “How big is the farm?” Coleman asked.

  Xavier shrugged. “Small family farm, fifty acres at the most.”

  “So, not likely to find much resistance at all,” Miles replied.

  The old man nodded. “That’s my assessment as well.”

  Terrell glanced at Coleman, inclining his head slightly towards Walter. His second nodded in agreement before shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

  “Well, the four of us will get ready to head out, then,” the Captain declared.

  Both Xavier and Walter’s head snapped up at the same time, and in perfect unison, said, “The four of us?!”

  “Yes, the four of us,” Terrell confirmed. “Young Walter can handle himself, and this sounds like an easy day.”

  Coleman took a loud bite of one of his sausages. “They usually start that way.”

  Terrell glared at him, but Xavier nodded anyway.

  “Very well,” the old man said with a sigh. “I had planned on having him help with loading up the tank we brought back for our… bomb. But if you would like him with you, I can find someone to replace him.”

  Terrell nodded. “I appreciate that,” he said, and then turned to Coleman. “Can you take Walter and get him geared up? I need to talk to Xavier for another moment.”

  “Sure thing, Cap,” Coleman replied, swallowing the last of his food and getting to his feet. “Come on, kid, let’s find you something fun.”

  The trio headed off, Walter in the middle, trotting excitedly.

  Xavier took a seat. “What can I do for you, Captain?” he asked.

  “Have you been able to find out where that tracker we put on Mario ended up?” Terrell asked.

  The old man nodded. “Yes, it’s a little town called Newton Grove,” he replied. “About twenty miles due north of here.”

  “Have you sent anybody up to check it out?” Terrell asked.

  Xavier shook his head. “I haven’t been able to spare the manpower,” he said.

  The Captain bristled, about to open his mouth to argue, but the old man put up a hand to stop him.

  “However,” he continued firmly, “I have had men keeping an eye on the only road leading to it. Outside of nightly patrols coming down here to check up on us, nothing has gotten within two miles of town.”

  Terrell nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. “If that changes…” he trailed off.

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Xavier promised.

  They shook hands, and then the Captain headed off to join his crew.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Coleman drove the extended cab work truck, and Terrell stared out the passenger window as the other two got cozy in the back seat. Walter rolled down his window, looking outside at the rolling fields like a happy puppy on a car ride.

  “Bud, you seem really happy to be out of town,” Miles said, a goofy smile on his face as he took in the kid’s excitement.

  Walter nodded, turning to him. “Oh yes, sir,” he replied. “I hadn’t been out until we met at that factory last week.”

  “So what do you have you doing all day?” Miles asked.

  The kid shrugged. “Oh, whatever needs to be done,” he replied. “Fixing up barriers, keeping watch, carrying heavy boxes of canned food to storage.”

  “I can see why you were anxious to get out,” Miles replied with a chuckle.

  Coleman let off the gas, causing the duo in the back seat to lean in and stare out the front windshield.

  “What’s up?” Miles asked.

  “Mount Olive is up ahead,” Coleman explained. “Figured a little caution might be in order.”

  The quartet looked ahead at the southern edge of the town. There wasn’t much to see in terms of buildings, just a smattering of small homes.

  “Take it nice and slow,” Terrell instructed. “According to Xavier, we need to take the first main road to the right, and that’ll take us out to the farm.”

  Coleman hit the gas and they rolled through town. As they got up to the first batch of houses, a few zombies wandered out from between them. Walter immediately rolled up his window, and the Captain barked a laugh.

  “Easy there bud,” he said, “they can’t get you from way over there.”

  The kid laughed and averted his gaze, embarrassed. He rolled the window back down, but only halfway.

  As they drove up into the town, they came across more zombies as the buildings started to come up. There were several dozen creatures hanging around the school. Coleman slowed to a crawl as they passed it to avoid unnecessary attention. Up ahead, about a hundred and fifty yards away, was a throng of undead in the road.

  “What do you think, Cap?” Coleman asked.

  Terrell pursed his lips for a moment. “The turnoff can’t be too much further up…” he mused, and looked at the neighborhood to his right that was much lighter on zombies. “So there’s a good chance we can pick up the road if we cut through this neighborhood.”

  “I like that idea a lot better than rollin
g through that lot up ahead,” Coleman replied, and hit the turn signal before turning onto the next street.

  Terrell raised an eyebrow as the signal clicked off, and the driver realized what he’d done, shaking his head and laughing.

  “Old habits die hard,” he said.

  As they rolled through the neighborhood, they scanned the lower-class area filled with houses that looked like they should have been bulldozed years ago. Terrell furrowed his brow at the myriad of zombies in each yard.

  Miles noticed, too. “Why are there so many of those things here?” he wondered. “You would think people would have gotten out when this was happening.”

  “Poor people don’t have those kinds of options, sir,” Walter said hoarsely. “I mean… no disrespect, but do you think people with houses like this have good cars?”

  The stout soldier clenched his jaw, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. With his middle-class upbringing, he wasn’t used to having to check his privilege. “That’s a good point, kid,” he admitted.

  Coleman squeaked to a stop at a dead-end road. “Now what?” he asked.

  Terrell pointed to the main road about thirty yards across the field. “Looks like that’s our road,” he said.

  “Four wheel drive it is, then,” Coleman said, and popped the truck into a lower gear. He rolled out onto the grass, and after a bit of a bumpy ride, they came out onto the road unscathed. “So how far up is this place?” he asked when they were safely back on the pavement.

  Terrell looked down at the crudely drawn map in his lap. “Looks to be four or five miles,” he replied, running his finger along the line Xavier had drawn.

  “Well, enjoy these last few minutes of peace, boys,” Coleman declared, “cause we’re about to get into it.” He hit the gas, speeding them up a bit, and Miles and Terrell checked their assault rifles and handguns.

  “Miles, how you looking on ammo?” the Captain asked.

  The stout man popped open his handgun. “Last mag on the handgun,” he replied. “Two and a half mags on the rifle.”

  “Better than I’m doing,” Terrell muttered.

  Coleman nodded. “Same here.”