Dead America The Third Week Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-6 ] Read online

  DEAD AMERICA

  THE THIRD WEEK COLLECTION

  PART 1

  BOOKS 1 - 6

  BY: DEREK SLATON

  © 2020

  BOOKS:

  1. EL PASO - PT. 4

  2. EL PASO - PT. 5

  3. EL PASO - PT. 6

  4. MIAMI

  5. PORTLAND - PT. 3

  6. MISSISSIPPI CARAVAN

  FOLLOW NEW RELEASES AT:

  www.DeadAmericaBooks.com

  BOOK 1: EL PASO - PT 4

  BY DEREK SLATON

  © 2020

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +15

  “Here you go boys, got a fresh pot going for you,” Ethel said, setting down to steaming hot mugs between the two men at the window.

  Leon grabbed his immediately and took a deep inhale, smelling the liquid gold and offering the older woman a warm smile. “Ethel, you treat us too well.”

  “Yeah, gonna have to be careful,” Rogers added with a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t want this one getting spoiled.”

  She reached out and squeezed each of them on the shoulder. “Oh, it’s my pleasure, boys,” she assured them. “Although it might be in your best interest to keep an eye out for something nice while you’re running errands. I do have a birthday coming up, after all.” She gave them a conspiratorial wink and headed back over to her desk.

  “I’ll make sure to add that in to the search parameters,” Leon said before taking another sip. “Don’t want to upset the flow of coffee.”

  Rogers raised his mug. “Cheers to that.”

  They clinked and sipped and turned back to the window. They knew the cartel would inevitably come back. But at least the case of booze they’d found had lessened the knots of stress in their shoulders a little.

  “How’s the situation in the high school going?” Rogers asked.

  Leon nodded. “Good. I talked to Kevin last night for a long while I was waiting for the satellite to come over. Everybody is safe, and in good spirits. Just anxious to get out of there.”

  “I can imagine,” Rogers replied. “That has to suck to be cooped up in one building for weeks on end. Did he ever let slip how he was able to get them in there? As soon as I identified myself as a Detective, he kind of clammed up, like he was gonna get in trouble or something.”

  His companion shrugged. “Yeah, he was the janitor at the school, so he had the keys to the place,” he said. “As soon as that first zombie encounter happened, he grabbed his family and a neighbor’s and hightailed it up to the school. They locked it up tight and rode it out.”

  “Good on him,” the Detective commended, hooking up one ankle on top of his opposite knee. “Although it doesn’t sound very encouraging on the manpower front. I don’t have anything against families, but we are kind of desperate for able bodied adults, not kids.”

  Leon shrugged. “Kevin said there’s four of them in there that can really help out with the fighting.”

  “Speaking of that, when is your New Mexico crew coming in?” Rogers asked.

  His friend took a sip of his brew before replying, “Talked to them last night. They’re here, but I told them to hang in the outskirts until they see the Cartel leave. Doesn’t throw off our timeline any, and to be frank the Cartel doesn’t need to know about them.”

  “Amen to that,” the Detective agreed.

  “Gonna be good to see them again,” Leon mused.

  Rogers raised an eyebrow. “Y’all go way back?”

  “Nah, really only saw them twice,” his friend admitted with a chuckle. “We were sitting around drinking and bullshitting one night after I got there. Swapping old war horror stories and whatnot. Then when the shit hit the fan, we all ended up in the supply room at the same time with the same goal of getting the fuck outta Dodge. Their C.O. came in and started laying into them, which is when I stepped up and claimed they were helping me with my mission. Since I outranked their C.O., I waved him off and gave them the chance to get out.”

  “So they owe you one, then?” Rogers asked.

  Leon shook his head. “Nah, we don’t see it that way.”

  “Then why in the world are they willingly stepping into this shitshow?” The Detective waved his hand in the vague direction of the window.

  His friend grinned. “Because I told them they get the chance to assassinate a Cartel leader,” he said. “Do you have any idea what kind of after action headaches that would have caused before? Paperwork, debriefings, desk jockeys in DC criticizing every move we made. Now? We just kick back with a few beers and reminisce.”

  “I guess I understand that,” Rogers agreed with a thoughtful nod. “I remember how much paperwork I had to file when I shot a dude that pulled a piece on me. Can’t imagine what it would be like to take out someone as big as a Cartel leader.”

  Leon took a deep breath. “Quite a bit more, I can assure you.”

  “So, you have some thoughts on how to take him down?” the Detective asked.

  “El Guapo?” Leon pursed his lips for a moment. “Man, that’s a tough one. I mean, the most logical solution is to snipe him, but that would require some complicated mechanics to get the shot lined up.”

  Rogers cocked his head. “Could always go the car bomb route?”

  “Yeah, oldie but a goodie,” Leon agreed. “Plus, who doesn’t love a good explosion?”

  The Detective shook his head. “Although we’d still have the same problems of getting him into the right place.”

  “We could always just head on down to Mexico and recruit a rival gang,” Leon suggested.

  Rogers barked a laugh. “Somehow I don’t think the two of us would survive very long down in Mexico on that kind of mission.”

  “Might be longer than us trying to clear this town out with what we have at our disposal,” his friend replied.

  The Detective shot him a sly grin. “You mean you haven’t come up with a plan to clear it out, yet?”

  “Hey, you’re the idea man,” Leon shot back, holding up a hand. “I’m just here to do the satellite surveillance and occasionally shoot something from afar.”

  Rogers chuckled. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

  “Damn right,” Leon agreed.

  They clinked mugs again, and then sat up straight as two SUVs pulled into the parking lot outside of the command center.

  “Looks like you’re up,” Rogers leaned down and grabbed the high-end bottle of tequila, holding it out.

  Leon took it and rolled his eyes. “As always, thank you for making me the face of this town,” he said, sarcasm evident in his tone. “I just can’t start my morning without dealing with these pricks.”

  The Detective raised his mug and grinned. “My pleasure, big fella.”

  Leon shook his head and headed outside, securing the door behind him. As he approached the vehicles, a handful of guards got out, followed by Angel Rivas and his father’s right-hand man, Rodriguez. Angel clasped his hands in front of him, chin raised, a smug smile on his face.

  “Rodriguez,” Leon greeted, and then inclined his head to Angel. “Boy.”

  The younger Rivas sneered. “You are fortunate that you have found a brand my father adores,” he said. “Or else I would cut out your tongue for your insult.”

  “Thanks for confirming that you are, indeed, a daddy’s boy,” Leon replied.

  Angel whipped out a butterfly knife, taking a step forward. “Maybe my father will forgive me if I teach you a lesson.”

  Leon immediately grabbed the kid’s wrist, twisting it just enough so that the blade pointed outward, away from him. Angel twisted his arm but couldn’t break fr
ee of the man’s iron grip.

  “You come at me again, and I’m gonna make you call me daddy,” Leon growled.

  Rodriguez stepped forward. “Enough,” he demanded.

  Leon loosened his grip just enough for Angel to wrench his arm free, and the kid pointed the blade in his face like a finger. “Soon. Soon!”

  “I said enough, Angel.” Rodriguez barked.

  The kid sneered again before putting his knife away, and then snatched the bottle of tequila before storming off to his vehicle. “We’re done here!” he called to his guards. “Let’s go drink, while they do the work.”

  There were a few whoops and hollers as the men got into the SUV, and Rodriguez got up in Leon’s face.

  “Oh, you’ve done it now!” Angel taunted.

  “You need to be careful with Angel,” Rodriguez said quietly through gritted teeth. “I won’t always be able to keep him on the leash.”

  Leon kept his expression angry. “We need to talk,” he whispered.

  “I will get here when I can,” Rodriguez breathed back.

  “Soon, or we may have to move without you,” Leon murmured.

  Rodriguez looked both concerned and intrigued, but schooled his expression before he headed back to the vehicles.

  Leon stared as the caravan peeled out of the driveway, chewing his bottom lip and hoping that the urgency of his request was taken seriously.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As soon as the vehicles disappeared into the interstate, Leon held up a hand with a thumbs up. Rogers exited the command center, heading towards him, and Trenton, Clara and Reed approached from a neighboring building.

  “Glad that was a short visit,” Trenton declared.

  Leon nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. “You and me both, man.”

  “Were you able to deliver the message?” Rogers asked.

  “Yeah, Rodriguez knows we’re on the clock,” Leon replied with a nod. “He’ll show.”

  Reed took a deep breath. “So, what now?”

  Leon pointed down the road to a single SUV headed their way.

  “Well, that was quick.” Clara blinked at the vehicle. “Looks like Rodriguez took your request seriously.”

  Leon shook his head. “That’s not Rodriguez.”

  “Then who is it?” she asked.

  Rogers grinned. “Trouble.”

  Leon nodded. “The good kind.”

  As the vehicle grew closer, it was clear that it held some damage. There were bullet holes here and there, with the front bumper completely gone. One of the doors looked like it was duct-taped shut.

  As it stopped in front of them, the engine gave a death rattle as it shut off. The doors opened, but the duct-taped door exploded out, kicked clean off by Private Landry as he bounded out into the sun like a puppy breaking free of a crate.

  “Finally, thank fucking Christ!” he declared, running his hands through his blonde hair and extending his arms to the sky.

  Private Whitaker wrinkled her nose as she skirted around the vehicle. “It was no picnic being in there with either, bud.”

  Private Mathis shook his head, his chocolate skin shining with a thin sheet of sweat. “Hey, at least you got to be in the front seat. Your window being down kept his stench firmly back there with me.”

  “Did you just call me smelly?” Landry demanded.

  “Smelly doesn’t do it justice,” Mathis shot back. “It would take someone with a PhD in English to devise a word to properly describe whatever the fuck is coming out of your body.”

  Sergeant Hammond got out of the driver’s seat and approached Leon, shaking his head all the while at his team.

  Leon raised an eyebrow. “Long trip, Sergeant?”

  “I honestly don’t understand how there weren’t a string of fathers murdering their entire families on road trips,” Hammond replied. “Or at the very least, driving head on into traffic.”

  His friend chuckled. “Well, you made it through, didn’t you?”

  “Mainly because there wasn’t any traffic to veer into,” Hammond said, and they shared a laugh, shaking hands and smacking each other on the shoulder.

  Leon grinned. “Man, is it good to see y’all again.”

  “You too, buddy,” Hammond replied, and looked around the town. “Looks like you’re doing all right for yourself. Although I seem to recall you saying that your plan was to say fuck civilization and go live off the land or some shit.”

  Leon nodded. “Yeah, the Cartel had other ideas, so I ended up here with this ragtag bunch.” He turned and motioned to his friends as he spoke. “Allow me to introduce everyone. This is our lead scout Trenton, his buddy Reed, the lovely but deadly Clara, and this salty ole bastard here is Detective Rogers.”

  Rogers reached out to shake the Sergeant’s hand. “Pretty sure you can just call me Rogers, now.”

  “Retired from the force?” Hammond asked as they shook.

  “Well, I haven’t checked my bank account lately, but I’d venture a guess and assume they haven’t paid me in a while,” Rogers replied.

  Hammond cocked his head. “Well shit, I guess that means I’m not a Sergeant anymore.”

  “Hell, if that’s the standard, were you ever really a Sergeant?” Leon quipped. “I’ve seen what they pay you guys.”

  Hammond chuckled. “Point taken.” He motioned to the members of his group as he introduced them. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Sergeant Hammond. The one who needs to be hosed down is Private Landry. His backseat mate is Private Mathis.” He winked at Clara. “And now to be outdone, we have our own lovely but deadly lady in Private Whitaker.”

  Everyone murmured greetings, nodding and saying hello, as Rogers and Lean stepped over to the vehicle.

  “So, aside from the backseat bickering, it looks like you had a bit of a rough ride,” Rogers said.

  Landry raised a hand. “Shit man, that’s an understatement.”

  “Yeah, things were going smoothly until we hit the border and stopped to fill up,” Whitaker added.

  Trenton crossed his arms. “What happened?”

  “We had a run-in with the King of the Gas Station,” Landry replied. “Some lone wolf prick who decided it was a good idea to keep the fuel to himself.”

  “You… you didn’t kill him, did you?” Reed asked, eyes wide.

  Whitaker waved her hands back and forth in front of her face. “No, we’re not cold-blooded murderers,” she replied, and then wrinkled her nose. “Well. At least to people who aren’t a hundred percent deserving of it.”

  “We let Mathis here negotiate for us,” Landry said.

  Clara’s brow furrowed. “How did you manage that?”

  Mathis reached into the backseat and pulled out his sniper rifle. “I pierced his ear from a hundred yards out,” he declared proudly. “After that he was in a more sharing mood.”

  Rogers fingered the bandage on his own ear. “I can see how that would be a quality negotiating tactic.”

  “Damn, dude.” Landry’s jaw dropped. “Who did you piss off?”

  The Detective sighed. “Cartel.”

  “Well, don’t worry, we’re gonna help you get even with ‘em.” Landry held up a fist in solidarity.

  The Sergeant leaned against the hood of the busted SUV. “Speaking of which, you want to fill us in on the assassination plan details, Leon?”

  “I’m afraid we have some business we have to attend to here in town, first,” Leon replied, and motioned over his shoulder to the command center. “Why don’t we go inside, and I’ll fill you in?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The group crowded around Leon’s computer desk, the man in question at the helm as he brought up a map of the area. As he worked, Ethel headed in with a tray of fresh coffee for everyone, stopping at the scuffed up military group first.

  “You look like you could use a cup,” she said with a kind smile.

  Landry picked up a mug and took a long smell of the hot brew, moaning with pleasure. “Ma’am, I know
we just met, but if you keep this up, I just might make you Mrs. Landry.”

  “Bold of you to think you can handle me, sonny,” she replied with a little wink.

  Whitaker punched him in the shoulder and laughed as her companion grinned at the feisty old lady.

  Leon motioned to the computer screen. “Okay, this is the current fire we need to put out,” he said, and zoomed in on the eastern edge of town. There were two large buildings separated by some sports fields. But instead of green grass, the area was just black. “On the right is the middle school, which is, to the best of our knowledge, empty. On the left, however, is the high school, where we have a dozen or so survivors who need our help.”

  Hammond squinted and leaned forward. “What’s that black area in the middle?” he asked.

  “Our best guess?” Leon shrugged. “Three to four thousand zombies.”

  There was a long silence as everyone digested the information.

  “Hope you got a small army to take that out,” Mathis finally said.

  Rogers grimaced. “Just the people in this room.” He raised his mug. “Minus Ethel, of course.”

  The older woman raised her eyebrow with a playful glare.

  “Not that we doubt your abilities,” Leon said with a grin. “But you make coffee better than anyone in town, and we aren’t going to risk that.”

  She patted him on the shoulder and then headed off with the empty tray.

  Whitaker let out a deep whoosh of breath. “Even with just us, we should be able to handle it if we’re careful.” She pointed to some of the buildings on the screen as she continued, “If we set up some fire teams here, here, and here, we should be able to pick them off. It’s going to make for a long ass day, but it’s doable.”

  “Problem is, we don’t have near enough ammo to take them all out,” Trenton cut in. “And we’re still going to need bullets for when we have to venture out.”

  Landry scoffed. “No manpower and no bullets?” He pulled a flask from his pocket and poured a glob into his cup. “I’m gonna have to whiskey this up if this is the shit I’m dealing with today.”