Dead America: The First Week Box Set Books 1-7 (Dead America Box Sets Book 2)

by Derek Slaton

  “Sounds easy enough,” Frank said with a nod, crossing the small room to peer outside. “So how am I getting to you guys?”

  “On the east side of the field, there is a nondescript blue outbuilding,” Bill said. “Inside is an underground walkway that connects the practice facility to the stadium. I will make sure that door is unlocked for you.”

  Frank tensed. “Whoa whoa whoa, don’t do that,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to endanger the fortress.”

  “Relax, Captain,” Bill said, “I have men stationed on the stadium end of the tunnel. We also have it wired to blow if the door is breached and have it under constant surveillance. In a perfect world, we had this tunnel earmarked as an escape hatch, but right now the priority is getting you back safely. That said, if you could manage to sneak in undetected, that would be greatly appreciated.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” the Captain replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll just quietly make my way through ten thousand zombies.”

  “Well, according to our last estimate, the crowd outside has grown to thirty,” Bill said.

  Frank let out a whoosh of breath. “Fucking hell,” he breathed. “So, is that your way of telling me to hurry up?”

  “Well Captain, you are in charge, so it’s not my place to tell you what to do,” came the pert reply. “That said, yes, you may want to hurry.”

  “Ten-four,” Frank said with a sigh. “I’ll radio when I get to the practice field. If I can, that is.”

  “I’ll put the guards on alert.”

  “Thanks, Bill.” The Captain let go of his radio and paced the small room a bit while his new and confused companion watched. He didn’t know what to do. He knew his chances were slim to make it to safety as it was, let alone with a civilian that didn’t understand him in tow.

  Frank shook his head in disgust that he’d even contemplated leaving this poor woman behind to die. “Millie,” he said, pointing at her. “Come with Frank. We have to go outside.” He pointed to the door.

  She retreated into the corner, shaking her head violently. She sank down, and the Captain knelt in front of her, turning his body sideways so that he wasn’t so big and threatening.

  “I know you can’t understand me,” he said, voice as soothing as possible. “I hope my tone comes across. I will keep you safe. We will be safe.”

  She stared at him for a tense moment, and then jerked a nod.

  There was a sudden banging on the door, and she gasped, but Frank leapt up and faced the door, gun drawn. The banging was loud, but the door held. The Captain extended his hand to Millie, and she took it, letting him pull her to a standing. He motioned to the back of the building.

  “Back door?” he asked, pantomiming opening a door.

  She nodded. “Si,” she said quietly, and led him through the building, trembling but moving. She held her knife up in front of her, pausing in front of an outside door, and reached for the knob. Frank took her hand in his and gently moved her behind him, pointing to acknowledge that he was going to go first. She nodded and took a step back from him.

  He opened the door a crack and peeked out, holding it there for a few moments to make sure there was nothing. When there was no response, he put his hand up to signify Millie to stay, and then slipped out into the alleyway.

  He looked both ways down the tight alley. It was narrow, too small for both of them to be beside each other, but wide enough that they could go single file in either direction. He gently waved for her to come out after him, and she timidly exited the door.

  He led her towards the street, and as they approached the exit, she jerked hard on the back of his vest. Frank turned to see a zombie barreling towards them down the narrow passage, and he squeezed past her, drawing his knife. He took a defensive stance, and as the zombie came upon them he slammed his tricep into its throat and shoved it against the wall, planting his knife directly into its forehead. He left the body to block the alleyway and sheathed his knife, readying his handgun and shuffling by Millie once again. She was breathing heavy but not quite panicking, and he hoped that was enough proof for her that he would do his best to keep her safe.

  Frank looked both ways and sighed with relief that the coast was clear. He motioned in the direction they needed to go, and she nodded her compliance, following close behind him as the moved up the dark street.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Freeman peered through his binoculars at the bus depot, scouting the two transports surrounded by a few dozen zombies. He noted the six-foot high chain link fence that surrounded the compound, and the zombies appeared to be trapped inside.

  “What do you think, Webb?” the Corporal asked, handing the binoculars to his comrade. “Looks like thirty or forty of those motherfuckers to me.”

  Webb handed the binoculars back and shook his head. “Don’t know on the count, but pretty sure it’s enough to overwhelm us. Not sure how everyone else is doing on ammo, but I’m looking a little light.”

  “On my last mag,” Reyes said.

  Gardner swallowed hard. “Same.”

  “I’ve got six shots left,” Marie added.

  Freeman clenched his jaw, examining the depot further. He noticed a cut hole in the fence, assuming that to be the original entry point.

  “Got it,” he said. “That’s how those things got it. Looks like the army boys forgot to close up after they broke in.”

  Webb looked again. “There’s no way in hell we’re going to be able to lure those things out through there,” he protested. “And not exactly the best breach point for us, either.”

  “Yeah, if we spook ‘em, we’d essentially be trapped,” Freeman agreed.

  Marie raised an eyebrow. “So? What’s the play?”

  “Fuck if I know.” The Corporal in charge shrugged.

  “Well, you better figure it the fuck out,” she snapped, “cause you’re all we got at the moment.”

  “First off,” Freeman seethed, “watch your goddamn tone. Second, if you got a bright idea, I’m all ears.”

  “Send a runner to distract them,” she said. “Get them over to the far side of the fence, and give the rest of us a chance to get to the transports.” She jutted out her chin in satisfaction.

  “And what happens when their moans attract other nearby zombies?” the Corporal asked. “You know, the ones that aren’t in captivity? You going to volunteer for that suicide mission?”

  She sighed, pursing her lips.

  “Yeah, not so easy to be in charge, is it?” he growled.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, Freeman.”

  “It’s all good,” he replied in a softer tone, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, let’s throw some ideas out there. We can work this out.”

  “We don’t have the firepower for a straight up fight, so that’s out,” Reyes piped up.

  Gardner bumped Webb with his shoulder. “Hey, didn’t you used to play QB?”

  “Yeah,” Webb replied, brow furrowed. “I did.”

  “Think you can lob a grenade from one side of the depot to the other?” Gardner raised an eyebrow.

  Webb snorted. “Maybe ten years ago.”

  “Besides, that may not buy us the time we need to get into the transports,” Marie added. “Since I’m guessing nobody has a set of keys for these things?”

  There was a tough silence, until Owens coughed violently, spitting another glob of blood-filled mucus on the ground. He removed the harness for his assault rifle and set it on the table, followed by his reserve magazine. He stabbed his knife hard into the wood, the thunk making the whole team startle and look at him.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit, we all know what the play is here,” he said firmly.

  Marie paled. “Owens?”

  “Ma’am, please feel free to arm yourself,” he replied, motioning to his rifle. “You look like you know your way around one of these.”

  She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard, but didn’t move.

  “Gardner, I need two blocks of C4 and a det
onator you don’t want back,” the Corporal declared.

  “Whoa, whoa, Owens,” Freeman stammered, suddenly realizing what was going on, “no, no. That’s not happening. I’m getting everybody back to the stadium in one piece.”

  Owens hacked and then straightened up. “Not unless I do this.”

  “Stand down,” his commanding officer demanded. “That’s an order.”

  “Ma’am, how long you think I got left?” Owens turned to Marie.

  She hesitated, chewing her lip, but then shot Freeman a sheepish look. “Hours, maybe half a day at the most,” she admitted.

  The Corporal in charge pinched the bridge of his nose, and then scrubbed at his forehead. He finally groaned and sighed and then motioned to Gardner. “Give the man what he needs.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gardner replied gravely, holding out the C4 and detonator. Owens took the explosives and smacked his comrade on the shoulder. They exchanged a nod, and then he turned towards the group as he backed towards the door.

  “I got the keys to the gate right here,” he said, wiggling the block in his hand. “Once it’s opened, I’m going to lead them as far away as I can. When you hear the other one go off, you’d better be on those trucks, because I get the sense they’re going to be headed back your way.”

  Freeman nodded, shoulders tight. “We’ll get it done and get those people to safety.”

  “Yeah, well, you damn well better,” Owens replied, and then smiled before leaving the building. The group sat in silence for a moment, and then Freeman got to his feet.

  “Come on, let’s get a move on,” he declared.

  Owens darted across the dark street and over to the depot fence. He smacked the chain link fence, sending a metallic echo through the night air.

  “Hey, who’s hungry?” he called, and several nearby zombies growled and sprinted towards him.

  They smacked right into it, pressing their rotting faces into the metal, teeth gnashing without a care for the consequences to their tearing mouths. The hubbub alerted more of the dead, and soon enough the bulk of the bus stop corpses had their sights on him.

  “That’s right, come and get me!” Owens cried, and jogged along the sidewalk.

  The ghouls followed, stumbling along the fence like they were on a leash. They got to the front gate which was locked up tight. Owens attached a block of C4 to the locking mechanism, and then sprinted to the other side of the street.

  He took a deep breath. “Boom,” he said, and hit the detonator.

  It shredded the gate and the front line of zombies, the rest picking themselves up through the dust and rushing through the now busted gate.

  “There you go, Freeman,” Owens said, and then sprinted down the road away from the depot.

  “Let’s move!” Freeman barked, diving through the hole in the fence, and rushed towards the two transports. Webb was a step behind, popping off a few shots to take out some stragglers as Freeman took up position beside the truck door.

  Webb threw open the door, revealing an army grunt missing the top of his head. The uniform was bloody and torn at the bicep, pistol still in his dead hand.

  “Sorry kid, but you gotta go,” Freeman muttered and tossed the soldier’s body to the ground. They hopped in and slammed the door shut as Reyes, Gardner and Marie blew past them to the second transport. As they reached the truck, there was an explosion in the distance, rooting Gardner and Marie to the spot.

  Reyes threw open the transport door, and a heavyset zombie in army fatigues flopped out, bowling him over. He shot a few times, but missed vitals as teeth tore into his throat.

  “Motherfucker!” Gardner screamed at the ghoul feasting on his friend. He fired several times into the head of the zombie, Marie’s mouth agape at the sight. Gardner stormed past the corpse and into the truck, screaming in anger and frustration.

  Marie stopped briefly to shoot Reyes in the head before he reanimated, and then hurried around to the passenger side of the transport.

  “What the fuck was that?” Gardner snarled at her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Reyes deserves peace, not running around like one of those things,” she shot back, and the Corporal swallowed, nodding his agreement.

  “Gardner, y’all good?” Freeman crackled in over the radio.

  He paused before lifting the radio to his lips. “We lost Reyes,” he said, and there was a pause on the other end.

  “Ten-four,” Freeman finally replied. “Y’all follow me. When we get to the skywalk, park beside me and we’ll start unloading.”

  Gardner nodded. “Yep.”

  The transports fired up, attracting a few zombies, but the trucks effortlessly plowed through them. The Corporal remained intensely focused on the drive, and Marie respected his quiet, leaving him to deal with the loss of two close friends in such a short time. She kept her eyes on the rearview mirror, where countless zombies emerged from the shadows and stumbled after the trucks to their destination.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “How we doin’ on time, Coleman?” Terrell asked, inspecting the grocery store across the street through his binoculars. There was no movement, but there were several dead bodies in the parking lot.

  “We got about thirty minutes before the sun’s gonna start peeking up,” the Corporal replied.

  Terrell nodded. “Then we’d better make this quick. It looks like over there, but I wouldn’t bank on it staying that way. We’re moving straight across and we’re not gonna fuck with the lock. There’s a double panel glass door. Foster, I want you to crack the bottom portion of that sumbitch open. Once we secure the interior, find whatever you can to patch it up. Doesn’t have to last long, just enough for us to get what we need up to the roof.”

  “On it, Cap,” Foster replied.

  Terrell raised his hand. “All right, let’s move.” He led his team out into the street, moving swiftly with rifles at the ready. There was no resistance as they made it to the store, eyes everywhere to make sure they were still alone. Foster reached the door first, flipping his gun around to shatter the bottom window with the stock.

  Terrell ducked in and immediately popped back up to scan the dark store. The others filed in and joined the sweep, also keeping eyes out for something to patch the door.

  A shot rang out and the cash register next to Terrell exploded.

  The team hit the deck, taking cover behind the checkout counters. Several more shots slammed into their makeshift barricade, causing more irritation than actual harm.

  “Yo!” Terrell cried, hoping to stop the waste of bullets. “Cut it the fuck out! We’re friendlies!”

  “Bullshit!” A male voice bellowed from the back of the store, and then another barrage of bullets.

  “Martinez, Bennett, cover fire!” the Captain barked, and he scrambled to his feet as they complied, rushing the grocery aisles. The first one was relatively empty, the canned good picked clean already. Terrell crawled down the aisle as his comrades retreated to cover, and the unknown assailant began firing once again.

  “Eat it, motherfuckers!” he cried. “I’m gonna kill each and every one of you assho-” His jaw snapped shut at the click of a gun hammer and cold metal pressing up against his temple.

  “You mind cutting that out?” Terrell asked from behind him, and the man dropped his gun immediately, hands shooting up. He was heavyset, dressed in jeans and a tattered and bloodied t-shirt.

  “OK, you got me,” the man conceded. “Just make it quick.”

  “I ain’t gonna kill you, old timer,” Terrell replied. “We just need to get a few things and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Well, if you’s taking our food, you might as well go ahead and shoot us,” the man shot back. “Bullet to the head is preferable to starvin’ to death.”

  The Captain’s brow furrowed. “We? How many others are here?”

  “There’s five of us,” his prisoner said, but before Terrell could respond several shots fired. His body went rigid with concern.

  “Everybody
good?” he yelled.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” Coleman called back. “Couple zombies tried to get in.” Loud moans echoed in the distance, and the Corporal sighed. “We’re gonna have company!”

  “We need to secure the front,” Terrell said to his prisoner. “Are we gonna get shot?”

  “No,” the man replied. “That’s the only gun we got.”

  The Captain raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “Bobby!” the man cried. “Help them boys at the front!”

  A teenaged boy emerged from the shadows, startling Foster, who was closest.

  “There’s a table back here we can use,” the kid motioned behind him, and the Corporal followed him to a wooden folding table covered in empty cans. They flipped it over and carried it to the front door.

  “Coming across!” Foster warned, and Coleman and Bennett ceased fire so the unlikely duo could get the table in front of the door’s opening. The zombie pack smashed up against the glass, faces smearing blood against the window as their undead legs rattled the wood.

  Foster hissed as he pressed his full body weight against the table, lowering himself to the ground to brace it with his legs. “Christ, how many of those motherfuckers are out there?”

  Coleman approached the window, and hopped up on a soda display for a better vantage point. The zombies in the parking lot were stacked at least a dozen deep, disappearing into the darkness.

  “More than you want to know,” he replied, and hopped down to the tiles as Bobby took the same bracing position as Foster. The kid was white as a sheet, and Foster gave him a reassuring nod.

  “We clear?” Terrell called from the back.

  Coleman turned in his general direction. “Yeah, we’re good, Cap.”

  “This is what’s gonna happen,” the Captain said to his prisoner, “I’m gonna pull back and we’re going to walk nice and slow to the front. If you so much as look at that gun on the floor, I’m gonna end you. We clear?”