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

by Derek Slaton

  The two men glanced at each other, wide-eyed, and then one of them reached for a handgun in the back of his waistband. The rest of the team popped up from the debris, weapons drawn, surrounding them, and the two newcomers froze.

  “Hey, can I borrow this for a few minutes?” Freeman asked, and walked up to grab the handgun out of the guy’s pants. “Thanks.”

  “Please, don’t kill us,” the guy pleaded, voice trembling.

  Gardner shrugged. “That decision may be out of our hands,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Depends on what you tell us about our two missing friends.”

  “You mean the other soldiers?” the unarmed man piped up, motioning over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, they’re fine. We… we can take you to them.”

  “I bet you can,” Gardner replied. “Let me guess, they’re on the fifteenth floor?”

  The guys glanced at each other with surprised eyes, and then looked back to the Corporal, nodding furiously.

  Frank pushed away from the helicopter to approach them. “What’s waiting for us down there?” he asked.

  “Just a bunch of people trying to survive,” the guy who’d had the handgun said earnestly. “We don’t mean you any harm.”

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “So are my friends down there just hanging out with y’all?”

  “Well...” The second guy scratched the back of his head. “Not exactly.”

  The Captain shoved him hard, his head smacking into the brick wall behind him like a basketball on the blacktop. “What the fuck do you mean, not exactly?” he seethed.

  Before he could answer, there was a loud crack of a gunshot, and Gardner blew right off of his feet. Everyone hit the ground, assuming defensive positions.

  “Where’s it coming from?” Freeman cried. “I can’t see anybody!”

  Webb searched frantically. “I got nothing either!”

  Marie scurried over to Gardner, dropping to her knees. He had one hand clamped around his bicep, and she covered it with her own. “Let me see,” she instructed, and he let go to reveal a bit of blood. She studied it for a moment. “Didn’t hit anything major,” she declared, “you’ll be fine. Now get up!”

  “Still hurts like a motherfucker, though.” Gardner winced as another shot rang out, the concrete at Freeman’s boots exploding.

  “Sniper, three o’clock!” the Corporal cried, and the team moved into useful cover with the direction identified.

  Frank kept the two unarmed guys pinned against the wall, his handgun against a throat. “Who is shooting at us?” he demanded.

  “Fuck if I know, man,” the first guy insisted. “You haven’t made a lot of friends lately. Notice he shot when you put your hands on my friend, here.”

  “Freeman, cover fire!” Frank barked. “Everybody into the stairwell.”

  The Corporal popped out and shot wildly at the neighboring building as the team made a run for the door. One by one they dove in, and Freeman let up to turn and dart away. The sniper managed to hit the ground just behind him as he hustled inside.

  Frank looked around, doing a head count. “Everybody good?” he asked, and there was a chorus in the affirmative before he nodded. “So where were we? Oh yeah, my friends you’re holding hostage.”

  “We secured them because they fired on us!” one of the captives squeaked, his arms high in the air. “We didn’t kill them, though!”

  “How many people you got down there?” Frank crossed his arms. “How many of them are armed?”

  “I don’t know man,” he replied, shaking his head rapidly. “There’s thirty, maybe forty of us. And a good number of them are packing.”

  Frank pursed his lips. “Webb, secure these guys to the railing,” he said, waving his hand.

  “On it, Cap,” the Corporal replied, and shoved them down into a sitting position, back to back. He used zip ties to secure their hands against each other, and then another looped to attach them to the railing.

  Frank turned to the rest of the team. “Gardner, you okay?” he asked.

  “It’s just a flesh wound, he’ll be fine,” Marie replied.

  The Corporal nodded. “What the lady said.”

  “So, what’s the play, Captain?” Freeman asked.

  Frank sighed. “I don’t know, every other time we’ve faced this kind of situation, we’ve gone in guns a blazin’ and killed everyone who wasn’t one of ours,” he mused. “But that just doesn’t feel right this time. These people aren’t our enemies, they didn’t shoot down the chopper. They’re just trying to survive.”

  “Well, they did shoot at Bennett and Foster as well as take them hostage,” Freeman pointed out.

  The Captain shook his head. “But what if they’re telling the truth that Bennett and Foster fired first?”

  “So, what?” The corporal stiffened. “You wanna go have a chat with them?”

  “Hey, just some free advice,” one of the captives piped up from his secured position on the landing. “We may not be your enemy, but we’re sure as hell not your friends. A few of the people down there tried to go to the stadium before they ended up here. So you take that for what it’s worth.”

  Frank shook his head and sighed. “All right, y’all, let’s move out and go get our boys.”

  “So what are we doing, Captain?” Freeman repeated. “Clearing them out? Or trying to strike up a conversation?”

  “Not sure yet,” the Captain replied. “But I have twenty floors to think it over.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Coleman raised an eyebrow at the four foot tall sheets of metal bolted to the side of the truck bed they were in swayed back and forth with each bump in the road. “Not the sturdiest protection, there,” he said.

  Walter shrugged. “It’s on there pretty good, and those things can’t get through,” he replied. “What more do you really need?”

  “Yeah Coleman,” Terrell said playfully, “what more do you need?”

  The Corporal smiled and shook his head as the truck drove slowly down a residential road. There were a few straggler zombies darting out onto the road behind them, and at the sound of gunshots the two soldiers stood up, rifles at the ready.

  “You ain’t gotta worry,” Walter said, motioning for them to sit down. “That’s just our people clearing the way for us.”

  They relaxed and sat down, but kept their guns ready as the truck drove right into the center of town. Two-story buildings lined the streets, gunmen leaning out the high windows. They each hooted and hollered, occasionally picking off a stray zombie, but keeping the horde out of the way. A few of them simply flipped off the zombies, bringing a bit of joy to the soldiers as they looked on.

  The truck passed through a makeshift gate, which looked like a repurposed barn door covered in barbed wire. A few older farm hands shut the gate behind them immediately before the distracted zombies noticed, and then lowered the tailgate of the truck.

  “Y’all do okay out there?” The taller African-American farm hand smiled as he helped the kids off of the bed.

  “We had some trouble, but our new friends helped us,” Walter replied, motioning to the soldiers.

  “You go on and get Xavier now, Walter,” the man instructed as he helped the old man to the ground.

  “Yes, sir,” Walter replied, and headed off.

  Coleman and Terrell clambered down into a hive of activity. There were well over a hundred people buzzing around, the majority of which looked like farm workers. A small group cooked in large pots over open flame, numerous people carried supplies into buildings, and others reinforced one of the walls blocking the street.

  It looked like what had been done originally was to block the city’s center square with whatever they could find. There were cars reinforced with sheet metal, giant hay bales packed two high and eight deep. At the far end there were three large eighteen-wheelers lined up.

  “Pretty impressive,” Terrell said, nodding as he gazed around. “Two days into the apocalypse and they’ve already got themselves a kingdom set up.
”

  “While I don’t consider myself to be royalty,” a loud voice replied, “it would be rude of me as your host to deny you the ability to refer to me as such.”

  The soldiers turned to see a tall African-American man that looked to be in his mid fifties striding towards them. He had weathered skin like most of the farm hands, but his clothes were clean and crisp unlike the tattered plaid of the workers. His hair was cropped close to his head and his collar-length beard was well-groomed.

  “You must be Xavier,” Terrell said with a smile.

  The man nodded as he reached them, clasping his hands in front of him. “Indeed I am, gentlemen. And you must be the two good samaritans young Walter spoke of.”

  “Yes sir,” the Captain replied. “I’m Terrell and this is Coleman.” He extended his hand.

  Xavier shook with each of them in turn. “Terrell. Coleman. Thank you for bringing my people back safely.”

  “It was our pleasure, sir,” the Corporal replied. “The Captain and I never pass up an opportunity to put a bully in their place.”

  “I wish that this situation was nothing more than a simple case of bullying.” The leader sighed. “I’m afraid this goes much, much further than that, however.”

  “Well, based on our encounter, these guys seem very interested in acquiring something you have,” Terrell explained.

  “Yes, they want our food supply,” Xavier replied. He paused and blinked before shaking his head. “My apologies, gentlemen. I have failed in my duties as a host. May I offer you something to eat?”

  Terrell’s stomach growled at the mere mention of food. “We would be very appreciative for a meal, Xavier.”

  “Hell, I’ll settle for a pack of crackers at this point,” Coleman added.

  “Well my friend, I believe we can do a little better than that,” Xavier replied with a twinkle in his eye, and waved for them to follow. He led them to a makeshift camp site where two white-haired women were cooking in a giant pot over a large fire. “Afternoon, ladies,” the leader greeted.

  “Hey Mister Xavier!” one of them replied with a toothless smile.

  The other winked at Terrell. “And hello to your new friends!”

  “Miss June, Miss Ruth,” Xavier said, “I’d like you to meet Terrell and Coleman.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” June inclined her head.

  Ruth smirked. “Mmm. Love me a man in uniform.”

  Coleman blushed as Terrell gave her a little bow.

  “Well ladies, what delicacy do you have cooking up for us, today?” Xavier asked.

  June preened under the compliment. “We have a wonderful six vegetable soup, nice and hot.”

  “Although I see that look in your eye,” Ruth added, pointing at Coleman, “and I got something special for you.”

  The Corporal laughed. “Ma’am, I cannot wait.”

  She reached behind the pot and pulled out a plate with a fried chicken leg on it. “You strike me as a leg man,” she said coyly.

  “Ma’am, you have no idea,” Coleman replied, and gratefully took the leg. The three men each took up a bowl of soup and made their way over to the bench in front of the court house. They inhaled their food, the only sound over the ambient working noises the slurping of hungry soldiers.

  “Xavier, that was tremendous,” Terrell said after he drank the last of his bowl.

  Coleman nodded his agreement. “Thank you very much.”

  “My pleasure, gentlemen,” the leader replied. “It’s the least I could do, given your deeds.”

  “May I ask you a question?” Terrell asked.

  Xavier nodded. “Please.”

  “How did you manage to secure the town of Clinton?” the Captain inquired. “Was it not impacted by the zombie outbreak?”

  “We are fortunate with our location, being so far away from heavily populated areas,” Xavier replied. “As a result, people around here had plenty of warning about what was transpiring. Most of those with the means to packed up and headed for the coast, my business partner being among them. He spouted some nonsense about finding a boat and getting offshore before calamity took root. It was a foolish plan, because even if he found a vessel, there wouldn’t be a reliable source of food or water. Alas, he would not listen to reason and chose to follow the majority of the town on their ill-fated quest.”

  “If everybody left town, then who are all these people?” the Corporal asked.

  “Mister Coleman, we are a poor farming community,” Xavier replied, spreading his hands to motion to the workers. “The farm owners, the business owners, those are the people who packed up and left. The people you see here? Most of them don’t have cars, and the ones who do have transportation wouldn’t have gotten very far given the condition.” He took a deep breath, clenching his jaw for a beat before continuing, “A lot of the people here were working their daily farm jobs when they watched their employers pack up their families and leave town without so much as a warning about the storm that was coming.”

  Terrell furrowed his brow. “But you didn’t leave.”

  “I did not, sir.” Xavier shook his head gravely. “I was born in this town, built a life for myself in this town, and achieved things I never thought possible when I was a child. The moment I learned vulnerable people were people left behind, I started collecting them. Carload by carload we came to the center of town and secured it. Ten people became twenty. Twenty became forty. And by the end of the first day, we had over a hundred and fifty people safe and secure behind these walls.”

  “That’s impressive,” Coleman said, eyebrows raised. “Not to mention noble as hell.”

  “Just because you are poor, doesn’t mean you should be left to die,” Xavier said, face stoic but his eyes betraying his anger. “I care about the people of this town, and will do anything to protect them.”

  “Again, if you don’t mind me asking, how are you going to provide for this many people?” Terrell worried.

  Xavier stood up. “Please, gentlemen, come with me,” he said, and led them to the three huge transport trucks. “Before all of this, my business partner and I ran a successful trucking company. We had contracts with many of the farms in the area to take their harvests to market. As fate would have it, the day this hit, we had three of these trucks loaded up at a nearby farm.” He led them around to the back of one of the trucks, revealing that it was filled to the top with produce. “So food, for the moment, is not an issue.” He led the two shocked soldiers to a nearby building that looked like it had been some kind of recreation hall. There were dozens of large pots on top of burners, workers running back and forth carrying mason jars full of vegetables.

  Terrell’s jaw dropped. “This is a hardcore canning operation you have going on here, Xavier.”

  “Canning?” Coleman furrowed his brow.

  “Come on, Corporal, you don’t know what canning is?” the Captain asked.

  “What do you want, Cap? I’m a city boy,” Coleman replied with a shrug.

  “Canning,” Xavier said, “is an effective way to preserve food. It’s been around since the early eighteen hundreds and hasn’t really changed a whole lot in the last two centuries.”

  “Well, if it ain’t broke, right?” Coleman nodded.

  Xavier smiled. “Right indeed, sir.”

  “How long do you think you can hold out with this supply?” Terrell asked.

  “If we ration properly, I believe we can survive for a year off of what we currently possess,” the leader replied. “My hope is that it will be enough time for the military to get a grasp on the situation.”

  The soldiers exchanged a concerned look, and Terrell cleared his throat. “Xavier… I… I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the military isn’t coming. You’re on your own out here.”

  The older man pursed his lips, eyes glazing over. “I see.” He took a deep breath, and then licked his lips, shaking his head. “I appreciate your honesty. One way or another, we will figure out a way to survive.”

&nbs
p; One of the workers that walked by gave a violent cough, and the soldiers stiffened immediately.

  “Xavier, do you have many sick people that are coughing?” Coleman asked.

  The leader nodded. “Regrettably, we have a handful, perhaps a dozen or so.”

  “This is going to be difficult to hear,” the Corporal replied, “but you need to quarantine them immediately.”

  Terrell nodded as Xavier glanced to him with alarm. “It’s an airborne virus that’s causing all of this. If you have A-type blood, you get sick and turn into those things. If you get bitten, you get sick and turn into those things. Anybody that has been wounded or showing symptoms needs to be under lock and key immediately.”

  Xavier let out a deep breath. “I understand, gentlemen. I will make the necessary arrangements at the conclusion of our talk.”

  He led them back outside, into the shade of a tree. The town bustled around them, and if it weren’t for the ever-looming threat of death, it would have almost been peaceful.

  “You have a very impressive setup,” Coleman said. “It’s no wonder someone wants to come in and take it from you.”

  “I don’t know how they found out about the food, but they did,” Xavier replied, shaking his head sadly. “We had only been back for a couple of hours when the first shot rang out. There was a young man on guard duty, making sure those creatures weren’t going to breach the barricade. The bullet hit him in the chest.” He paused, pursing his lips for a moment before continuing, “The only comfort I take is that he passed before he struck the ground. We didn’t have time to mourn as they led a full tilt assault from the east. Hard to tell how many there were, at least a few dozen. We had to use most of our ammunition to repel the invaders.”

  “Hey, look on the bright side,” Terrell spoke up, “they don’t know that.”

  The leader nodded. “This is true, my friend.”

  “And I wouldn’t worry too much about them for the moment,” the Captain continued. “We did a number on a couple of them and made it known that we were staying in town.”

  “Gentlemen, you have already done so much for us,” Xavier said, clasping his hands in front of him as he turned to face the soldiers. “I do not know what your plans are, however if you wish to move on and attempt to rejoin your military squad I will see to it that you have transportation and supplies for the journey. I fully realize that this pandemic is larger than us, and I’m sure your superiors are missing your talents at the moment. That being said, if you would be so kind as to humor an old man, I do have a favor to ask.”