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

by Derek Slaton

  She shook her head. “One of these days, you’ll have to tell me what this feud is all about.”

  “Plenty of time this winter,” Mr. Wainwright replied.

  “So, what’s the situation here?” she asked.

  He motioned to the lineup of vehicles. “As soon as we get those plows here, it should only take us an hour or so to fill in the gaps.”

  “Ken said he should have them up and running within the hour,” Emily said. “That should have to locking this thing down by three-thirty or so.”

  “Talked to Zach on his last drop off,” Mr. Wainwright replied. “Said he had one more batch of people to extract and that’s all he has. Susanna is helping him with this run so they can get wrapped up.”

  Emily nodded. “That just leaves Chad and Myles.”

  “Talked to Chad a few minutes ago,” he said, “he said they were trapped on the roof, so if they’re getting out somebody is gonna have to go get ‘em.”

  Ernest cocked his repeater loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Well, let’s go get ‘em, then.”

  “Look at that,” Glenn drawled as he walked up behind them, “city boy wantin’ to play the hero.” His arm was in a sling from the bullet wound in his shoulder, but he wore a smirk.

  “Well, I figured I already saved your ass today,” Ernest replied with a grin, “shouldn’t be a problem to repeat the process.”

  The wounded cowboy turned to a nearby farm worker. “Hey, do me a favor. My gun and stuff is in the car over there. Go fetch it for me, will ya?”

  “You got one arm, hillbilly,” Ernest said as the worker scurried off. “What do you think you can do with that?”

  Glenn threw his good arm around the city boy’s neck, pulling him into a playful headlock. “I can whoop your ass, that’s for damn sure,” he joked, and then let go as his opponent laughed. “I can also drive one of those snowplows.”

  “Pretty sure we got that covered,” Ernest replied. “Ken and Barry are driving the last ones here when they’re ready.”

  “Then I’m gonna need Ken to fix me up one more,” the stubborn cowboy replied. “I saw the number it did to those things down on the bridge. Should be good enough to get Myles out of his little jam. Not the first time I’ve had to pull his chestnuts outta the fire.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” Ernest raised an eyebrow. “Except for the part where he’s on the top floor.”

  “But you’re forgettin’ one thing, city boy,” Glenn replied. “I’m the one who trained him. And I don’t train no dummies.”

  The city dweller shrugged. “I… yeah. I got nothing.”

  Glenn motioned to Mr. Wainwright, who handed over his walkie-talkie. “Myles, it’s Glenn, come back.”

  The channel opened up, gunshots in the background. “What’s up, Glenn?”

  “Tell me you were smart enough to plan a way down from the third floor,” the older cowboy demanded.

  “You mean like bringing a rope ladder with us?” Myles asked. “Yeah, I was. So now, instead of leaping to our death, we can die tired after a three-floor climb.”

  “You just sit tight, I’ll be there soon to get ya,” Glenn replied.

  There was a long batch of gunfire before Myles said, “Don’t be too long, we don’t have unlimited ammo.”

  “Ten-four,” the older cowboy said, and then tossed the radio back to Mr. Wainwright. He shot a smug grin at Ernest, who put his hands up in defeat.

  “All right, you handle him, and we’ll go get Chad,” Emily instructed. “Hop in the back and we’ll give you a lift.”

  The men clambered up into the bed, and Glenn took the center seat, giving Ernest a playful expression that he’d gotten the best seat first. Ernest chuckled and sat next to him.

  “Emily,” Mr. Wainwright said as she got into the passenger’s side, “if y’all aren’t back by the time the plows are here, what do you want us to do?”

  “Go ahead and secure things,” she replied. “I’m going to send Barry by the gun store to pick up supplies they left on the roof for us. Hopefully there’s a rope ladder in there. Just drape it over the plow so we have a way over. And if you want to leave us a truck, that would be great too.”

  He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He swallowed hard as he shut the door gently, gripping the window frame. “Be safe. And bring my boy back.”

  She nodded solemnly and waved for Odell to drive.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  2:15 PM

  Odell pulled up the driveway of the capitol building, in full view of the courtyard. There were about a hundred zombies milling about, and slowly turned in the snow to trudge towards the vehicle. He came to a full stop and immediately punched the horn.

  “Whoa!” Emily cried, gaping at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Y’all need in the building, right?” he asked with a shrug.

  She furrowed her brow. “Yeah?”

  “Can’t get in the building unless we get the zombies away from it, now can we?” Odell replied, and gave her a wink.

  She shook her head and smiled, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks at not having thought of that. They idled as the zombies approached, staggering with a slow gait, stiff from the cold. When they were about ten feet away, Odell popped the truck into gear and took off down the driveway.

  He drove with grace, moving the truck from side to side along the snow-covered road, smacking zombies with the bumper to send corpses flying off in every direction. Emily held on to the window handle, eyes alight with adrenaline as he wove his way to the stairs, skidding right up to the front step.

  “I’m gonna circle the block,” Odell said as she got out, the crew in the back hopping down from the bed. “You call me when you need a lift.”

  “Thank you,” she replied sincerely, and shut the door. He sped off as soon as she was clear, the remainder of the horde shambling after him.

  Emily led the trio of men up the stairs, weapons raised and ready as they approached the door of the capitol building. A zombie staggered out of it, as if it had fallen against the handle, and Ernest immediately popped a bullet directly into its forehead.

  Jay got to the door first, and held it open for the group. They entered, Ernest on point, setting up a shooting stance to the left to cover everyone as they bustled inside.

  “Fire door is all the way down,” Emily instructed, filing behind him as he moved down the dimly lit hallway. They moved quickly but as silently as they could.

  About twenty yards from the door, a zombie darted around the corner, screaming at them. Ernest silenced it quickly with a bullet to the eye socket, but more screams echoed down the hallway and Emily shoved him forward.

  “Let’s move!” she cried, heart pounding in her ears.

  Ernest stopped at the fire door and aimed down the side hallway as she flung the door open as he began to fire round after round at the ensuing group of corpses. They dropped one by one, and then he turned to another dozen creatures tearing towards them from the hallway they’d come from. He fired as the group hurried into the stairwell, taking out the front row with headshots. The ones behind stumbled to the tile floor and he aimed to take them out, but Jay grabbed him by the back of the collar and jerked him into the stairwell.

  “What the fuck, man?” Ernest demanded as Alex slammed the door behind him.

  Jay growled. “What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “I know you’re a hotshot and all, but you don’t have to kill every zombie you see.”

  “You are absolutely right,” Ernest seethed, “I don’t have to kill every zombie I see. But I figured that since we’re eventually going to have to leave this building, it might be a good idea to kill the zombies that will be in our path.”

  Jay raised a finger, leaning forward to get in his opponent’s face, but took pause. He balled his fist and then took a step back, defeated. “Yeah. That’s my bad there.”

  “No hard feelings,” Ernest replied with a shrug. “Just means you get to kill them on the w
ay out.” He patted Jay on the back and then reloaded his gun as Emily raised her radio to her lips.

  “Chad, we’re in,” she said. “Gonna take us a bit to climb up, so you have some time to think of a brilliant plan to get your boys to safety.”

  “Heard that, ma’am,” Chad replied. “We’ll all put our thinking caps on.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  2:30 PM

  The entirety of the interstate mob had wandered off of the road, surrounding the three-story apartment building. Kolby was pressed up against the back of the door to give extra weight against the zombies pounding on it from the other side.

  “How’s the door?” Myles called as he and Duncan secured the emergency rope ladder to the balcony railing.

  “I can feel it starting to bow a little bit,” Kolby admitted. “Feels like there’s a good crowd growing out there.”

  Myles grabbed his shotgun and strode over, resting it in the peep hole he’d made. “May want to cover your ears.”

  His companion nodded and mashed his hands over his ears as he unloaded a few rounds. When the chamber gave its dull click, he peered through to see half a dozen zombies writhing on the floor, starting to pick themselves up.

  “Damn, looks like I caught them in the chest,” he said. “At least I took a couple pounds out of each of them, so that should help, right?”

  Kolby grunted. “We’ll find out.”

  “Myles, come back,” Glenn’s voice demanded through the radio.

  The young farm hand unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and put it to his lips, keeping an eye on the zombies through the hole in the door.

  “About time you got here,” he said good-naturedly.

  “All right, where you boys at?” Glenn asked.

  Myles walked back to the balcony to inspect the rope ladder. “When you come in the driveway, we’re the back building, top apartment on the back right corner. We’re surrounded by zombies, you can’t miss us.”

  “Ten-four,” came the reply, “Hang tight.”

  “Duncan, how’s that ladder doing?” Myles asked as he clipped the radio back to his belt.

  His comrade shrugged, straightening up from his handiwork. “About as secure as it’s gonna get.”

  “All right, keep your eye out for Glenn and wave him in,” the young farm hand instructed, and headed back to the door where Kolby was really starting to sweat under the strain.

  Myles peered out the peephole, but it was blocked by a zombie chest. He knocked on the left side of the door to draw the corpse far enough over that he could look through the shotgun blast in its chest.

  “Damn, looks like another one just climbed over the couch,” he muttered. “Good thing we don’t have to hold out much longer.”

  “Myles, come back,” Glenn said.

  He took up his radio. “Where you at?” He was starting to get antsy, with every corpse that climbed up that stairwell, they were one step closer to getting their faces eaten off.

  “Well, I got some bad news,” came the reply. “There ain’t no way I’m gonna be able to drive this thing back to where you boys are. The only path around looks steep as hell. If I try and drive this big bitch down that I’ll end up rolling it. And chance y’all can get to the front apartment?”

  Myles closed his eyes for a moment, and then took a deep breath. “Are you absolutely positive you can get to that other apartment balcony?”

  “Yeah, it ain’t no big deal to pop it up on the sidewalk there,” Glenn replied. “Same side of the building, just need you to move to the front. Can you do it?”

  “Yeah, hang tight, we’re gonna need a minute,” the young farm hand said.

  “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” came the reply.

  “Undo the ladder,” Myles called as he secured the walkie talkie back to his belt. “We gotta change apartments.”

  Duncan threw his hands up. “You shittin’ me?”

  “Wish I was,” his companion shook his head solemnly. “Glenn can’t get the plow around back.”

  “Well, we know where we’re going,” Kolby grunted, “but how the fuck we getting there? Zombies are outside and the door’s nailed shut.”

  Myles swallowed hard as Duncan began taking the ladder off of the railing. “Kolby, let me ask you something.” He turned back to his sweating friend. “In all your years, have you ever heard of someone firing a fifty cal sniper rifle indoors?”

  “Hell no!” Kolby cried. “That would be crazy! Those rounds are so powerful that they’d rip through right into your neighbor’s house…” His eyes widened. “Which is exactly what we want to do here because we want to destroy everything in sight.” He leapt to his feet, suddenly invigorated. “I’ll get the gun!”

  Myles dug through his ammo bag and pulled out a box of slugs to reload the shotgun with buckshot. Duncan ducked inside from the balcony, the ladder under his arm, and picked up the supply bag with the other. Kolby stomped in with a fifty cal strapped to his back, and the other one in his hand.

  “All right, let’s do this!” he declared.

  “Easy, tiger,” Myles replied. “Okay, you get one shot, so make it count. Put it right through the eyehole. That round should eviscerate everything it touches. When you fire, I’m stepping up and taking out the door hinges so we can get out. I’m first out the door, and going to shoot open the other one. Duncan, you’re first in to clear the apartment. Once we’re clear, you get the ladder hooked up.”

  “What about the door?” Duncan asked.

  Myles straightened his shoulders. “I’m gonna stand guard and take out anything that gets past the couch. We ready?”

  The two men nodded, Kolby with a shit-eating grin on his face. He stepped forward and took careful aim, holding the weapon tightly. When he got the target he wanted, he squeezed the trigger, eliciting a thunderous blast.

  The round crashed through the door, obliterating the first few zombies, leaving nothing but a jagged wound from the shoulders up. Body parts flew back into the other zombies, throwing them violently into the wall.

  As soon as he lowered the gun, Myles fired three quick shots into the hinges of the door, and then kicked it out in a spray of wood splinters. He leapt out into the hallway, nearly slipping in the pool of blood growing across the landing. He regained his footing and rushed over to the other door, firing quickly into the lock.

  “We’re in, go!” he yelled, and Duncan flew by him, crashing through the door into the small apartment. He dropped the ladder on the floor and raised his weapon, sweeping the space quickly and finding no movement.

  “We’re clear!” he cried, and Kolby bustled inside as Myles swapped out his slugs for buckshot.

  “That was fucking awesome!” Kolby cried, a huge smile on his face.

  “Damn right it was,” Myles replied with a laugh. “Now, go help Duncan so we can get out of here.”

  The fifty cal toting cowboy nodded as his companion readied his bright pink shotgun. A few of the zombies that survived the sniper round had risen, staggering brokenly leaving a trail of coagulated goo behind them. The bones of their fallen friends stuck out like crimson porcupine quills. He waited until they were about ten feet away and then fired a round of buckshot. A bevy of pellets pierced their skulls and they fell in a jagged spiky heap.

  Myles walked quickly to the railing overlooking the stairs, spotting zombies shoulder to shoulder all the way down to the ground. He whistled loudly and they looked up to him, extending their arms and letting out those ear-piercing squeals that were native to the undead. He continued to whistle, turning it into a jaunty tune to keep their attention on him instead of climbing over the couch.

  Kolby finally came back out into the hallway. “Hey, Duncan’s in the truck and I’m about to go down,” he called. “Give me two minutes and you’ll be good to go!”

  “Good deal,” Myles replied. “I’m gonna whistle them another tune then I’ll be down to join you.” He turned back to the horde and sneered. “So, what do y’all wanna hear next? Som
e Johnny Cash? Some Elvis? I’m open to requests.” He paused, letting them groan and growl, “Sorry, I don’t know what one.” He shrugged. “Well, ladies and gents, it’s been fun, but my time is up. Until we meet again.”

  He gave a bow and a flourish and then hurried into the apartment. He slammed the door and moved the couch over behind it, shoving it tight.

  “Better safe than sorry,” he muttered to himself.

  Myles jogged to the balcony and his heart leapt at the sight of his friends safely on top of the plow below. He hooked over the railing and climbed down the rope ladder, landing on his feet and taking a knee on the back part with his companions. He pulled out his radio.

  “We’re all situated up here,” he said. “Take us home, big fella.”

  Glenn honked the horn a few times in response, before putting the truck into gear and gently driving it off of the sidewalk. The three men held on and watched the thousand strong zombie mob stumble after them.

  Myles smacked Duncan and Kolby on the shoulders, a laugh escaping him. He was unable to put into words that feeling of disbelief that they’d survived the ordeal at all, and his companions seemed to feel the same way, barking laughs of their own.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  2:55 PM

  “That does not sound like fun in there,” Jay mused as he put his ear to the door of the twenty-first floor.

  Emily hissed and pulled her radio from her belt. “Chad, come in,” she said.

  “Good you hear you, Miss Walker,” he replied politely.

  “We’re outside the twenty-first floor and they sound pretty active in there,” she said. “So you boys have any ideas on how to get you out?”

  “Parachutes?” Chad replied. “Zip lines? We really have no clue, ma’am.”

  Ernest tapped her on the shoulder. “Emily, see if he can distract them.”

  “What good is that gonna do?” Alex asked.

  “Well, if he can pull them off this door, I can pop in and take a few of ‘em out.” He shrugged.

  Emily nodded. “Good a plan as any, I suppose,” she said, and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. She returned to her radio. “Chad, we might have an idea. Need you to bang on the door as loudly as you can.”