“This is Deejay Sniper broadcasting to you live from West County, California. I’m reporting from the middle of the hostile Russian takeover. I repeat, the Russians have taken over West County, California. I have important information for everyone out there. Please listen carefully and share with everyone you know. It may save lives.”
Explosions continued to go up from the high school. Zombies howled and he heard vehicles rushing through the streets. It took all of Dal’s willpower to stay focused on his task.
He lifted the pocket-sized notebook he’d carried here from the cabin. It contained a list of all the information they’d gathered since the invasion began a mere two days ago.
Dal leaned into the microphone, beginning with the story of how Russians soldiers arrived in Greyhound busses. He talked about the nezhit virus that turned people into zombies, and how the zombies were driven to bite and spread the virus. He shared the chilling fact that the Russians had figured out a way to make themselves immune to zombies.
Dal even revealed the Russians expected everyone infected with the virus to be dead in seven to ten days, and that a Second Offensive unit was arriving in the next two weeks.
He talked as fast as he could, all the while keeping an eye on his watch. Five minutes. That’s all he had. Once five minutes was up, Leo and his team would cease their attack and fall back.
Dal planned to make every second count.
Chapter 42Kill Box
“THIS ISN’T WORKING,” Jennifer cried. “If we want to use this ladder to get off the roof, we’re going to need to drop some bombs on the other side of the theater.”
She was right. For every nezhit they killed with a bomb, another took its place. The bodies were piling up, but so were the ranks of the undead. They were effectively blocking their escape route.
Lucky for them, the small, homemade bombs were effective at killing zombies with one strike. Those who survived the blast were often incapacitated in some way. Body parts—mostly arms and legs—were strewn across the concrete and planters.
“Come on.” Leo grabbed his backpack and raced to the side of the roof that bordered the street. They began lighting bombs and lobbing them over the side at nezhit. As soon as the bombs began to go off, more zombies streamed into sight.
“Time?” Jennifer asked.
“Two minutes.”
A group of five nezhit barreled into view. Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss the infected black veins bulging across their faces, necks, and arms.
Poor bastards. It wasn’t their fault they ended up like this.
Leo lit a fuse and dropped the bomb, then a second one for good measure. They exploded in a gory array of blood and skin. Jennifer dropped a few on another group that came around from the south.
The sound of car engines filled the air, mingling with the barks and howls of the zombies. Russians were on their way.
Leo forced himself to keep his cool, reminding himself this was all part of the plan. They would give Dal and Lena the full five minutes. They were counting on them.
Luckily, the Russians and zombies weren’t the only things making noise. Echoing through the campus was the sound of bombs and gunshots: Anton, Bruce, Jim, and Tate were busy. His team was making a spectacle, as planned. They took out infected up and down the narrow street.
“Over there!” Jennifer pointed.
Leo followed the line of her finger to the northern end of the road. The first of the Russians had arrived. They drove right into the kill box, oblivious to the trap that had been laid.
There were four open-top jeeps speeding down the street. They knocked aside any nezhit in the way. Russians were packed inside, many of them perched on the roll bar with their machine guns.
Their attention was on the street as they scanned for the source of the attack. They hadn’t yet realized the attack came from above.
The four jeeps drove straight past the cafeteria, unaware of Jim and Tate lying in wait. As soon as the Soviets were within range, a dozen bombs sailed over the edge of the building.
His friends might not be quarterbacks, but they both knew how to throw a ball. Their aim was true. Leo let up a shout of triumph as Nonna’s sachet bombs landed in the back of the jeeps.
The explosions were nothing short of spectacular. Bodies were ejected out of the vehicles. Machine guns exploded. The bottom blasted out of one jeep, spewing the tires every which way.
“Take that, fuckers.” Jennifer readied another round of bombs as the next group of vehicles poured onto the street.
This time, there were six jeeps. It looked like the Russians had raided a car lot. Every last one of them was in a shiny new jeep.
“Get the hell out of there, guys,” Leo murmured. Jim and Tate were supposed to fall back as soon as they gave up their location. This next wave of Soviets would fall to Anton to Bruce.
Sure enough, the Russians stopped and opened fire on the cafeteria. While their attention was on the western building, Anton and Bruce attacked from the east.
The bleachers were at least twenty-five yards south of the Russians, Anton was up to the challenge. Watching through the binoculars, Leo saw Bruce light fuses and pass bombs to Anton. From the top of the bleachers, his little brother lobbed bomb after bomb at the Russians. The sparking sachets lit the night like tiny fireworks.
They began to explode. The back of a jeep was torn off. More bodies were ejected out of vehicles. A rocket launcher went off, sending a missile straight into the air. It detonated over the school like a firework, lighting up the campus.
Leo looked at his watch. Sixty seconds. Time for Anton and Bruce to retreat. The next group of Russians belonged to him and Jennifer.
Shouting drew Leo’s attention. A group of five Soviets on foot burst into view, running out from between the
