United States of the Dead - 04

by Joseph Talluto

  “All right, little girl, let’s get this done,” Sarah joked with Angela.

  “Yes, Mom,” Angela joked back. She checked her Glock and Mini-14, making sure rounds were chambered and safeties were off. Seconds counted in fights and these guys wouldn’t hesitate.

  Sarah and Angela moved downstairs, preparing to meet the men on the ground floor. They reasoned that if things should go badly, they would be able to escape out a window and get into the woods a lot easier if they didn’t have to worry about twisting an ankle from jumping out of a second or third story balcony.

  Sarah and Angela went down to the front lobby and looked out the windows of the main door. The door was blocked with heavy planking, capable of stopping rifle fire if need be. Two sides had firing ports and Sarah peered out one of them, keeping her rifle barrel hidden so the men wouldn’t know where to fire. They could see three men slowly making their way down the driveway and through the parking lot. The men climbed over the fallen trees and power line poles that John and Charlie had ringed the lodge with. The idea was to slow down any attacking zombie horde that had managed to breach the earthen wall and trench that enclosed the park.

  As the trio stepped over the barricade, Sarah called out from the door.

  “That’s far enough. What do you want?”

  The three men looked at each other for a second before answering. The sergeant, Carl Dent, spoke up. “United States military, ma’am. We’re looking for survivors and offering assistance.” One of the men giggled slightly.

  Sarah wasn’t about to be fooled. “Bullshit. You’re Thorton’s dogs. We’ve been expecting you.”

  Grins gave way to frowns as the men realized the one advantage they had was gone. Sergeant Dent cursed and spoke up. “If you know who we are, then you know what we’re capable of. Why not surrender now and have a chance at living, rather than be shot down?”

  Sarah laughed. “You’re exposed with no cover except what you might find flat on your ass and you talk about me getting killed?” The men looked around and realized she had them dead to rights and they weren’t sure where she even was. “Run along puppies, before I decide to spank your stupid asses.” Sarah grinned at Angela, who just smiled and shook her head.

  Sergeant Dent, a former welder who had spent much of his previous married life beating his two ex-wives, bristled at being spoken to this way by a female.

  “Listen, bitch. If you want your brats to live, you’d better do as you’re told and I mean right now. Put your weapons down and walk out here right now.” Sergeant Dent’s voice had lowered to an angry hiss and the man next to him, Private Drew Lapinski, spoke up.

  “You know, lady. I prefer you fight. I’d rather John Talon come home to a dead son. Where is the little shit? I got dibs on cutting his throat.” Lapinski turned to smile at his friend and when he turned back to the lodge, Sarah shot him through the mouth.

  The bullet blew out the back of Lapinski’s head, launching two teeth out of the newly formed hole. Lapinski teetered backwards and fell over a log, his feet sticking up in the air like a cartoon figure.

  Sergeant Dent and Private Ron Ness dove for cover behind the logs, swearing the whole way. Private Ness was a small man, pudgy and whiny. He was useful to Thorton only in that he had an odd knack for finding supplies. If not for that and a complete lack of morals, he would have been working the fields long ago.

  “She killed him! Jesus Christ! She killed him!” Ness kept repeating over and over. He had taken cover near the corpse and couldn’t keep from staring at the ruined mess of blood and brains that oozed out of Private Lapinski’s new orifice.

  Sergeant Dent howled. “I’ll kill you all for that. You hear me?” He steadied his rifle and fired at the door.

  Sarah squinted out of the side portal as rifle rounds slammed into the barricade. Dent wasn’t much of a shot and Sarah was waiting for him to lighten up so she could ventilate him as well.

  Angela leaned against the receptionist’s desk and noted sardonically, “I guess negotiations are over?”

  Sarah sighted down the barrel of her carbine. “John liked to use a line from a movie in situations like this.”

  Angela cocked her head to the side. “What line?”

  “When you have to shoot, shoot. Don’t talk,” Sarah said, firing suddenly. “When they threatened to kill Jakey I figured talk time was over.”

  She looked through the opening and smiled. Outside, the two women could hear cursing and squealing, like someone had been wounded.

  Private Ness held a wounded ear and wheezed like a broken accordion. “She nearly killed me! Oh, God! An inch to the right and I’d have taken the shot in the eye!”

  Sergeant Dent snorted. “Would have owed her a favor if she did. At least I would have been spared your bitching.” He popped up suddenly and fired, ducking down as two rounds whipped through the air above him. “This is going nowhere. We need to get inside and take care of business. When I signal, you roll that way and I’ll roll this way. I’ll pop up shooting and you haul ass to that corner over there. I’ll go this way and get in through a window. Get in yourself and we’ll catch this bitch in a crossfire.”

  Private Ness blanched. He really didn’t want to go anywhere but away from this crazy woman. But he was more afraid of the sergeant, who had proven on more than one occasion to be a bully and a bastard. Gripping his rifle, he rolled carefully to the right, trying to stay out of sight. When he had reached as far as he was able to go, he nodded at the Sergeant, who fired again at the door, receiving a round past his ear in reply.

  Sergeant Dent quickly rolled to the left and when he reached the end of the barricade, he suddenly jumped up firing, blasting away at the spot where he thought he had seen the shots coming from. Ness wasted no time and bolted upright, running for all he was worth. He ran as hard as he could for the corner of the building, expecting at any second to feel a bullet slam into his back.

  Sarah ducked as the bullets punched into the door and a couple managed to make it into the firing port. Sarah looked up just in time to see both men split and run away in opposite directions.

  “Damn. This just got harder.” She picked up her carbine and extra ammo. “Let’s go, little girl. We’ve got work to do.” Sarah turned around and looked at Angela, who had turned ashen all of a sudden.

  “S-Sarah?” Angela pulled her hand from her side and it came away bloody. She gripped the counter as a wave of nausea struck her.

  “Oh shit. Hold on, Angela!” Sarah ran over and grabbed the other woman, easing her to the floor behind the counter. The tactician inside her head figured this would be a good place for Angela to hide in case that animal outside got in.

  Sarah gently eased Angela’s hand away from the wound and lifted her shirt to survey the damage. The bullet looked like it came in on the right side, low on her rib cage. The round followed the bone and exited in an ugly wound. The exit wound was nasty and bled freely, but it didn’t look like there was any internal damage. Sarah put her pack under Angela’s head and pulled out an extra shirt which she folded and placed under the wound to control bleeding.

  “Take it easy, honey, you’re going to be fine. It’s a nasty flesh wound, but it’s a clean in and out, no damage to anything vital,” Sarah said.

  “Oh, God. The baby! Will the baby be okay?” Angela gripped Sarah’s arm and winced in pain and fear.

  Sarah patted her hand. “The baby will be fine. They’re tougher than we are. Besides, that’s Tommy’s child and he’s got hard core genes.”

  Angela relaxed a little, but was still worried. “Are the men gone?”

  Sarah shook her head. “They’re probably looking for a way in. I’m going to have to do something about that. Can you handle it from here, Momma Bear?”

  Angela gritted her teeth and pulled her weapons closer, determined to fight dearly for her unborn child.

  “Good girl. I’ll be back with Rebecca. Just hang in there. If anyone besides us comes near…”

  Angela in
terrupted. “They’ll wish they hadn’t.”

  Sarah nodded and switched out the magazine in her carbine for a fully loaded one. She wanted all the rounds she could use, because this was going to be a fight. She briefly thought about Jake, but pushed that out of her head. She needed to be clear to deal with this danger and like his father, Sarah had to trust Jake would be okay.

  Thinking about John sent a pang of longing through Sarah and she desperately wished he was here now. But she was determined not to let him down and have everything normal when he returned. And when he gets back, he’s going nowhere without me ever again! Sarah thought.

  With a quick nod to Angela, Sarah swept into the hallway, looking for a man who was determined to kill her.

  Chapter 7

  Private Ness ran as fast as his fat legs would carry him. He ducked around the corner and leaned against the wall, gasping for air and clutching his rifle against his portly frame. He crossed a hand over his eyes, trying to wipe out the image of Lapinski with his brains blown out.

  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, what the fuck are we doing here? Ness thought as he steadied himself. He slowly brought his breathing back to normal and realized he needed to get moving and try and find a way in.

  He held his rifle in shaking hands and moved around a small fenced area, past a couple of old soda machines and towards a path that might take him to the back of the lodge. He could see a large glassed-in area, presumably a restaurant or bar of some sort and he figured he could at least get in that way by breaking the glass. Private Ness found a little of his confidence returning, although he realized that he had had enough shocks to his system with the death of Lapinski.

  Just as he reached the glass, he noticed movement on the flagstone patio. Whipping around the corner he jerked his rifle, only to be scolded by an irate squirrel who didn’t appreciate intruders in her realm.

  He calmed down and turned back to the glass, opened his mouth, and screamed for all he was worth. From behind a small storage shed, a huge man was silently charging at him, holding an enormous knife in one hand and a tomahawk in the other, looking for all the world like a ghost of the past coming for revenge. His face was stone cold save for his eyes, which were with fury. Ness completely forgot the rifle in his hands as he fell to his knees shrieking.

  His screams were brutally cut off in a barking gasp as cold steel ended his life.

  Charlie James cleaned his weapons quickly and darted for the other side of the lodge. He was still hunting and he knew there were others to feed his ‘hawk.

  Sergeant Dent heard the scream from the other side of the building. I’ll be damned. he thought. The fat little fuck might be useful after all. He’d better save some of that bitch for me.

  Dent circled around the far edge of the building, keeping out of sight and looking for a way in. The windows and doors of the first floor seemed to be sealed up, limiting his options. But as he looked around, he noticed some marking on the sidewalk by an access door. Trying his luck, he grasped the handle and pushed down on the latch, something no zombie would ever have been able to figure out. The door opened quietly and Sergeant Dent smiled as he slipped inside.

  Outside, Charlie climbed the short ladder which allowed him to see over the wall blocking off the patio. He didn’t see the door close, so he shrugged his shoulders and climbed down, heading to the stairs to try and get to the cave where Nicole and the kids were. At the very least he could help protect them from the men coming from the east if they got past Mike.

  Sergeant Dent moved carefully through the building, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. A little light filtered through the windows, enough to allow him to see where he was going and what was in the rooms he passed, but little else. He slipped past what appeared to be a conference room, but now it was filled with various free weights. The second room he passed gave him a glimpse of a sparring room, complete with punching bags and mats.

  These guys used their time wisely, Dent thought as he passed a room which seemed filled with short term supplies. Looks like they’re prepared for a war or something.

  The hallway ahead turned to the right and Dent approached the area carefully. If he figured it right, he should be close to where that woman fired on him. Dent’s lips curled back in anger at the memory of one of his men being killed by her. He hoped when he found her that Ness had already cracked her and had her bent over a table, just waiting for him. That thought made him smile as he crossed the lobby. A look behind the desk made him openly leer.

  An attractive woman was lying on her back, clutching her side. Her eyes were closed, but when he approached, she gasped and tried to lift the rifle at her side. He moved quickly and kicked the rifle away, kneeling down next to her prone form. Dent shoved the barrel of his rifle under her chin and smiled evilly.

  “Behave yourself, missy and you might live a little longer.” Dent said. Angela’s eyes burned hatred at the man next to her, but she remained silent. Dent ran a hand down her chest and onto her stomach, noting the hard bump there.

  “Well, well. What have we here? Is Talon expecting another brat? Too bad he’s probably dead and won’t see this one.” Dent continued his one handed groping of Angela who squirmed but refused to say anything.

  Dent lifted her hand away and saw the wound. He grunted when he touched the wound and Angela sucked in air at the pain.

  “Poor baby. Well, that’s what you get when you shoot at my men. You’re going to get something else, too.” Dent shifted the rifle to fumble at his pants. When the barrel was out from under her chin, Angela seized her chance and pulled her legs back, kicking Dent hard in the head, knocking him flat on his back. Angela shrieked as a fresh wave of pain hit her and the piece of clothing that had staunched the flow of blood on her side, ripped away, causing fresh blood to seep out of the wound.

  Angela fell back holding her side, gasping as wave after wave of pain shot through her. She tried to reach for her other gun, but Sergeant Dent had recovered and scrambling to his feet, grabbed a fistful of Angela’s shirt and hauled her off the floor.

  “Stupid little fuck!” Dent growled in her face. “I’ll make you wish you never pulled that shit.” He pulled a fist back and punched her brutally in the face, knocking her head back.

  Angela’s vision swam and she could barely remain conscious. The pain in her side was matched by the sudden pain in her head. She feebly raised a hand to try and defend herself and this excited Dent.

  “Still some fight in you, huh?” the sergeant sneered. “I’ll fix that.” He pulled his big fist back to deliver another blow when a strange voice spoke next to him.

  “Hey.”

  Dent turned to look and his head snapped back as his nose was smashed flat by the rifle stock which hit him like a baseball bat. He dropped Angela and fell back, grabbing at his ruined face. He didn’t see the rifle stock swing again, cracking him on the side of the head, knocking him to his hands and knees. A third blow landed on his kidneys and he screamed in pain, launching himself forward and crawling away into the hallway.

  Sarah knelt down next to Angela and surveyed her swelling face. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have left you.” Sarah gave Angela’s hand a little squeeze and was relieved to get one in return. “Charlie got the other guy, I saw him through one of the windows.”

  Angela struggled with the fog in her head. “Ke..kuh…” she said numbly.

  Sarah leaned closer. “What?” She was nervous, because she didn’t want Dent to come back shooting and she couldn’t spend too much time with Angela.

  The wounded woman summoned her strength and cleared her head. “Kill him,” she said to Sarah, gripping her hand and looking straight into Sarah’s eyes.

  Sarah smiled grimly. “Done.” She gave Angela a reassuring pat on the hand and gathered up her carbine, noting the dings in the stock caused by Dent’s head. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he never left California, Sarah thought as she headed out the door into the hallway.

  Dent had
fled into the main ballroom, pulling out his sidearm and taking refuge behind the rocks of the great central fireplace. He winced as he sat down, his back hurting something fierce and his nose was one mass of pain. The sad part was he hadn’t even gotten a look at whoever had hit him. As soon as I get a look now, that’s all I need. He thought as he eared the hammer back on his gun, a 1911 style pistol.

  Sergeant Dent heard a step and peeked around the corner of the fireplace. His eyes grew wide when he saw a woman enter the room, carbine at the ready. She was a little bit older, but none the less attractive for it. Her green eyes scanned the room, the rifle held at the ready. Her aristocratic features were devoid of emotion, only her eyes shone with fury and determination. She was dressed for combat and moved like she knew what she was doing, but there was no doubt from the curves in all the right places she was all woman. Dent felt himself stir and he wanted this woman more than he wanted the other one. But this one had obviously been the one who hit him and needed to die.

  As he readied his gun, Sarah approached unawares. She knew he had to be here somewhere, but finding him without getting hurt was going to be tough. She followed a blood trail and noted it went around the edge of the fireplace. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth curled up on one side and if her husband had been here, he would have advised all present to look out.

  Sarah darted to the left, keeping the fireplace in front of her. As she moved, Dent suddenly sprang out, pointing his pistol at the spot where he thought he saw Sarah last. Her movement took her out of his line of sight and his perplexed look did nothing to improve his bloody features.

  Sarah kept moving and when she was far enough, could see part of her enemy through the fireplace. She knelt and fired quickly at the part she could see, sending a bullet into Dent’s ass.

  Sergeant Dent screamed as the .30 caliber bullet punched through his buttocks, spinning him around and causing him to drop his pistol and grab his ruined rear with both hands. He overbalanced himself and crashed to the floor, squalling as his injured butt connected with the hardwood.