Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 3 | Dead America-Seattle [Part 1] Page 2

  The quartet hiked across the field, nothing but empty, overgrown grass ahead of them. They were silent as they walked, the daunting task ahead weighing heavy on their shoulders. As they reached the end of the field, the four other snipers crouched near a giant tree, one of them scouting out the shopping center through his scope.

  “What do we got?” Kowalski asked.

  The sniper lowered his weapon and shook his head, face pale in the moonlight. “Nothing good.”

  Kowalski and Wade both took a knee, pulling out their rifles to survey the situation. About two hundred yards from their current position was the mid-sized shopping center with several outbuildings on the far end of the lot, close to the interstate. Past that was the interstate itself, and their main target across from that.

  Both men’s breath hitched at the hundreds of zombies in the lot, like a Black Friday sale gone crazy. The interstate was no better, jam-packed with ghouls. The two men put down their rifles before pulling the group together.

  “Obviously the direct approach isn’t going to work,” Kowalski finally said, swallowing hard. “From what I could tell on the glide in, this group stretches up the road quite a ways.”

  Martin nodded. “Yeah, it would take way too long to try and circle around them.”

  “We need to draw them away from the road, create an opening we can slip through,” Wade suggested.

  Doyle shook his head. “Not gonna do much unless we pull some to the north, too.”

  Kowalski raised his gun again, looking through the scope to do a rough count of zombies, his mouth going dry when he realized it was in the thousands. He pushed down the anxiety and focused in on the shopping center, seeing a pathway to the back of the anchor store that was mostly clear.

  “Hey, take a look at the center building there,” he said, nudging Wade.

  His companion complied, seeing a pathway through the field to the back of the store. “What am I looking at?” he asked.

  “You think you can get to that ladder on the back?” Kowalski asked.

  Wade studied the ladder in question, a metal structure with a protective cover that stretched eight feet up before the rungs were exposed. He scoped out the back of the store, seeing a dumpster about fifteen yards away, but also a half a dozen zombies in the immediate vicinity, with dozens more on either side at the far ends of the building.

  “Ain’t gonna be fun,” he admitted, “but I think I can pull it off.” He lowered his gun and turned to his companion.

  Kowalski nodded. “Good,” he said. “That’s what I want you to do then. Get up on top and start causing a ruckus.”

  “What about the northern position?” Martin asked.

  Kowalski pointed to two of the kneeling men. “I want you two to handle that.”

  Private Hurley spoke up from beside them. “That’s gonna leave us mighty thin for the main target,” he declared. “Especially when we have two fronts to cover.”

  “True,” Kowalski agreed, “but if we try to cross that sea of death without diversions, we’re gonna be a whole lot thinner.”

  Hurley nodded in defeat. “Heard that,” he agreed.

  “How far up do you want us?” one of the snipers asked, getting to his feet.

  Kowalski contemplated for a few moments, looking at the interstate and picking the crossing point. There was a spot about two hundred yards up from the edge of the parking lot, a short climb up a hill that led to the freeway.

  “Two blocks,” he said. “Find whatever structure you can get on top of, and start firing.”

  “What’s your ETA?” Wade asked them as they nodded. “Don’t wanna start firing too early.”

  One of the snipers shrugged. “If we’re not firing consistently within ten minutes,” he replied, “there’s a good chance the shots you do hear will be our last.”

  “Ten minutes it is, then,” Wade replied, clapping him on the shoulder.

  Kowalski looked around at the group. “Okay, we good?” he asked, and when there was no response, he raised a fist. “All right, let’s move.”

  The two snipers headed off towards the north, and Wade tore off for the shopping center. He stayed low as he moved across the field. The moonlight wasn’t exceptionally bright, and while that was difficult for him to see where he was going, it provided him some cover at least.

  After a bit, he reached the end of the field, taking a knee in the grass to get a look at the situation. The ladder was forty yards directly in front of him, with half a dozen zombies shambling about. To the left, fifteen ghouls hung out by a door about forty yards away, and to the right was the dumpster with about ten more monsters twenty yards past it.

  Gonna have to go silent, Wade thought to himself, at least initially.

  He pulled out a knife and unlatched the holster on his handgun, just in case. He focused in on the closest zombie that was directly in front of the ladder. He darted out from cover, using the soft ground to muffle his footsteps as he quickly closed the gap. He slowed to a cautious pace as soon as he hit the pavement.

  The first zombie had its back to him, making the kill easy. He shoved the blade into the base of its skull, catching the creature as it fell. He gently laid it on the ground to the left of the ladder.

  The other creatures milled about aimlessly, not alerted to his presence just yet. He turned his attention to the duo between him and the dumpster. They were close together, about three yards apart, looking away from him. He silently moved up, but his toe kicked a rock that skittered across the asphalt.

  Shit, he thought, freezing.

  The two closest zombies heard and turned around, immediately opening their mouths to moan. Answering moans erupted from behind him as well.

  “Fuck it,” Wade muttered and sheathed his knife, pulling his handgun. He popped off two quick rounds into the zombies by the dumpster. This set off a chorus of moans in both directions, so he rushed the bin and threw his weight into it.

  It picked up speed, and he rammed it into a trio of ghouls headed his way. The front edge of the dumpster popped up in the air as it rolled over a rotted corpse. He pushed as hard as he could to make sure the back end cleared the obstruction.

  The bin cleared the body, and he gave the metal beast a shove, stopping dead in his tracks to pop a bullet into the speed bump’s head. He looked over at the two other zombies that had been knocked down, struggling to get to their feet. He aimed for a second but then quickly changed course, running towards the dumpster and pushing it against the wall by the ladder.

  As the zombies closed the gap, Wade jumped up onto the bin, making sure to put the bulk of his weight onto the frame rather than the dumpster lid. With all the extra ammo and food weighing him down, he didn’t want to risk crashing through the doors.

  He stood up on the edge and watched the horde of creatures headed his way in both directions. He worked his way carefully around the outer edge of the bin before leaping up and grabbing on to the first exposed rung. He strained as he pulled himself up, using his upper body exclusively until he was able to swing his feet up onto the ladder.

  Wade paused for a moment to catch his breath, locking his knee and looking below. Dozens of zombies clustered below, reaching up and moaning. He shook his head and took a deep breath, getting back to his task and climbing the rest of the way up to the roof.

  As he hopped over the side, he dropped his heavy bag as he walked to the front of the building, carrying only his rifle. The sight below took his breath away.

  “There’s something you don’t see every day,” Wade muttered, and shook his head in disbelief as he gazed at hundreds of zombies. They were easily into the thousands on the interstate, just a sea of rotting flesh, none the wiser to his presence. He took in the sight for a few tense moments before remembering to breathe and readying his rifle.

  He picked out his first target, looking through the night vision scope, seeing muted tones instead of bright and vibrant color. The first head that exploded could have been a watermelon, and nobody w
ould have been able to tell due to the lack of color.

  The gunshot echoed across the area, and within seconds the moaning increased exponentially. It was so loud that Wade paused, blinking into the darkness.

  “Damn, looks like that got their attention,” he muttered, and stared out at the death ocean for another moment before taking aim and firing again, hitting another monster in the head.

  The zombies in the parking lot all began to move towards the anchor store he stood atop, and a small trickle of creatures began to filter in from the interstate.

  He checked his watch, seeing it had been seven minutes since the other snipers had given him the ten minute timeline.

  “Okay boys,” he said under his breath, “you got three minutes to start firing. I know I can pull mine off.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  On the ground, Kowalski led his squad of five into position to take advantage of the hole on the interstate. There was a fast food place just across from the field and directly in front of the crossing spot.

  A trio of zombies roamed around the back, uninterested in the noise a block over that Wade was causing. Kowalski pulled out his knife, prompting Doyle and Martin to do the same. He inclined his head towards the ghouls, and they broke off in unison, each soldier jamming a blade into a zombie skull.

  The group of five pressed up against the wall of the restaurant, keeping watch on their flanks as Kowalski crept up to the corner. He looked towards the interstate, seeing the path was still thick even though a few groups were working their way towards Wade.

  “How’s it looking?” Doyle murmured from behind him.

  Kowalski shook his head and whispered, “Still too thick to pass.”

  “Why isn’t Wade shooting?” Doyle asked.

  Kowalski looked at his watch. “Probably still waiting on the northern group,” he replied quietly. “Still got two minutes.”

  Martin stayed on the other flank, keeping watch. Three zombies came towards them, mouths opening with hungry moans. He clucked his tongue to get the attention of his team.

  Doyle and Private Carver turned to deal with the threat, taking out the zombies as more moans erupted from the side of the restaurant. The former peeked around and saw a dozen creatures near the front of the store, looking around for the source of the noise that had dissipated.

  He crept back to Kowalski. “We can’t stay here much longer,” he murmured.

  His superior nodded and checked his watch again, seeing it tick down to one minute. “Come on, come on,” he urged quietly.

  A few tense seconds later, gunfire erupted to the north. Martin looked around the corner and saw the zombies near the front had lost interest in their skirmish and shambled off towards the new noises.

  Wade opened fire right after, giving the zombies two different sounds to hone in on. Kowalski looked around his corner and watched the creatures breaking up, heading in one direction or the other.

  After a minute of sustained fire in both directions, a pathway across the interstate began to open up, however several dozen zombies remained in the way, ping-ponging back and forth with every gunshot that went off.

  “Okay, we gotta move,” he hissed.

  Doyle peeked past him at the zombies still in the way. “What about them?” he asked.

  “Plow through them and get across,” Kowalski replied. “Our target is the giant hardware store at the south end of the center. We’re going around the back for roof access.”

  Doyle nodded and moved to the back of the line, letting the others know they were ready to go. Kowalski gave one more look to get his bearings and then broke from cover, the rest of his team hot on his heels.

  He moved away from the wall and into the center of the drive-thru aisle to prevent any surprises around the corner. They broke out into the open, running across the parking lot as hard as they could. By the time they reached the frontage road, their footsteps had gained the attention of several indecisive zombies.

  Rather than attack, Kowalski dodged the first few before lowering his shoulder into the next one, sending it to the side. He was the first to reach the grass and quickly climbed the short incline, about ten feet, with the rest of the group behind.

  He glanced back, seeing the others as well as a few dozen zombies within twenty yards shuffling towards them. He turned back to the interstate, coming over the crest of the hill and hitting the pavement.

  There were about forty zombies spread out between them and the opposite side. As he paused briefly to plot their course, one creature about fifteen yards away turned to moan at him, but then its head exploded.

  Kowalski cracked a smile as the rest of the group caught up to him. “Straight across, we got cover,” he said.

  They took off like a shot, running in a straight line as Wade fired at a pretty decent clip. One by one, the creatures in front of them fell, clearing a path.

  When they reached the median, Kowalski hopped over the concrete barrier first. As he did, several zombies converged on his position, having been unable to clear the barrier to get to the gunfire noise.

  “Move it!” Kowalski yelled. “The hole is closing!”

  Doyle, Martin, and Hurley cleared the barrier, the latter barely making it past the outstretched arms. Carver, a few yards behind, hesitated, seeing the window closing. He pulled out his handgun and took aim, firing and hitting one creature in the head. Another zombie on the line fell in a spray of blood and bone from Wade’s bullet.

  Kowalski skidded to a stop and looked back. “Move it, Carver!” he screamed, panic rising at his teammates' situation.

  Doyle and Martin turned and squeezed off a few shots with their handguns, trying to thin the growing herd around their friend.

  “Fuck it,” Carver said, and ran towards the barrier, planting a foot on the median and leaping forward with everything he had. One zombie managed to catch his ankle, stopping his forward momentum and dropping him to the ground.

  Before he could even register the pain of his face meeting the pavement, a dozen creatures dove at him, tearing into him with claws and teeth.

  As his screams pierced the air, Kowalski grabbed Doyle by the arm. “He’s gone, we gotta move!” he cried, and shoved him away from the carnage.

  The quartet slid down the hill on their side of the interstate, getting to the frontage road with handguns drawn. There were a few zombies on the road, with more coming from the side streets and business parking lots, attracted to the gunfire and Carver’s dying screams.

  Kowalski stepped through the group, leading them towards the shopping center a few hundred yards away, at a brisk pace. “Only fire if you have to, we gotta shed some of this heat,” he said.

  His companions looked lost, ashen faced and unsure of themselves.

  Kowalski snapped his fingers, making them look at him. “Carver’s gone,” he said, tone harsh. “We’ll have time to deal with it on the roof. Now let’s move!” he demanded.

  The snipers nodded and followed him as he ran towards a side street, making the turn towards the shopping center on the right. Dozens of zombies littered the side street, pouring out from the parking lot.

  Kowalski picked up his pace into high gear, the others following suit. They attempted to make it to the truck entrance of the shopping center, but a throng of zombies flooded out of it, drawn to the noise.

  He tore off of the street into an overgrown field, trying to cut off the horde. Halfway across, a hand grabbed his ankle, and he instinctively fired down into a zombie’s head, just an inch away from his foot. He stared down at it for a moment, stunned at the close call.

  Doyle caught up to him and looked down at the corpse, missing its bottom half, and shook his head. “Way too close for comfort, bud,” he breathed.

  Kowalski nodded in agreement and then took a deep breath, continuing their trek. He looked to his left, seeing the zombies from the truck entrance were heading their way now, drawn to his gunshot, entering the grass.

  “Gotta get to solid ground,” he
huffed, and tore towards the pavement behind the stores, relieved to be out of the tall grass where the undead could be lurking.

  He glanced to the left, seeing dozens of creatures moving towards them, but still far enough away that they weren’t yet a threat. To the right was mostly clear.

  “Should be a couple hundred yards to the store,” he said, and took off running.

  His trio of companions followed him, guns raised and ready for action. As they approached the edge of the building next to a short driveway, they stopped at the sight of a hundred ghouls packed into the area, the back end fifteen yards from their corner.

  “Shit, that’s a lot of those things,” Kowalski muttered under his breath.

  Doyle looked over and saw the ladder on the back of the store, the same kind as the one Wade had used with the cover over the bottom eight feet of rungs. Unfortunately for them, there was no dumpster in sight.

  “Well, there’s our target,” Doyle said. “But we’re gonna need teamwork to get up there.”

  Kowalski peeked out again, but a zombie caught sight of the movement and moaned, shambling their way.

  “Good enough for me, let’s move!” he urged, and the quartet sprinted across the driveway. As they raced down the back of the store towards the ladder, moaning erupted in front of them. “I’ll cover the front,” Kowalski barked, “start getting up there!”

  He stopped just past the ladder, pulling up his rifle and finding the target about thirty yards ahead with his night vision scope. He fired off several shots in rapid succession, buying them some time.

  Meanwhile, Doyle crouched and laced his fingers together, giving Martin a boost up to the rung cover. After he was clear, he boosted Hurley up.

  “Kowalski let’s go!” Doyle cried, and his team leader fired one more shot before tearing back to him, practically flying up to the ladder.

  Kowalski hooked an arm through the ladder rung and looked down at Doyle. “Grab my leg and climb up!” he called.

  Doyle took a few steps back before running hard towards the ladder. He put a foot on the wall and launched himself up, grabbing onto Kowalski’s leg. The sniper grunted at the extra weight, but it didn’t take long for Doyle to secure himself and pull his weight from Kowalski’s body.