As he approached a tree, a figure emerged from behind it. He grabbed it by the shirt, forced it back up against the trunk, and delivered a few brutal strikes to the head, dropping it to the ground. His chest heaved for a few beats, rage thrumming through him as he berated himself for shoving the runner aside and costing Anton his life.
“Come on Corporal,” Choi huffed as they caught up, “we gotta keep moving.”
Jacobs nodded. “He’s right, we gotta move.”
Herrera nodded, taking another few deep breaths to steady himself. “Choi, take point,” he instructed, and the Private gave a thumbs up before darting off into the woods.
Jacobs patted the Corporal on the shoulder, giving him an encouraging glance, and Herrera gave him a nod before they followed their teammate.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dixon led his group up the road a few blocks to the west of the school. They’d taken the long way around, venturing south several blocks before crossing over, taking the Corporal’s warning seriously.
The group of nine moved up the lightly packed street, with several soldiers rushing forward to dispatch zombies with their blades. With the route clear, Dixon led them to a house on the corner.
The road was filled with ten houses on either side of the street, a quaint little slice of American life. The road ran straight into a row of trees into a dead end.
“Ayers, Hurst, clear the house,” Dixon whispered.
Both Privates complied, heading up to the house as the others fanned out to secure a perimeter around the building.
“Try the knob,” Ayers suggested, and Hurst turned it, finding it unlocked. He nodded to his partner, receiving one in return, and then shoved the door open.
Ayers burst inside, his companion quickly following, and moved into the living room, where visibility was next to nothing.
He tripped over a corpse on the floor, and then immediately leapt back, slamming into the wall.
Hurst barked a laugh, earning a glare from his friend.
“What the fuck is so funny?” Ayers snapped.
Hurst pulled out a small flashlight and clicked it on, showing that the corpse on the floor was missing the top part of its head, a shotgun lying on the ground beside it. Ayers shook his head and finally conceded with a laugh, relieved that they weren’t in any immediate danger.
“If you’re finished shitting yourself, can we clear the rest of the house?” Hurst asked.
Ayers nodded and the two men glanced in the kitchen, seeing nothing, and then moved down the hallway. As they approached the back bedroom, there was clear moaning and smacking against the door.
The force of the banging intensified as they moved cautiously moved down the narrow hallway, readying their knives as they grew closer.
“I go low, you go high?” Hurst asked.
Ayers shrugged. “Works for me,” he replied. “If you want to be at dead dick level, I’m not going to fight you on it.”
“Well, I know how much you like to watch,” his friend quipped, chuckling.
Ayers rolled his eyes. “Just make sure you hold the fucker steady.”
“Just make sure you don’t miss,” Hurst shot back.
They reached the door, setting their flashlights on the ground, pointing up to illuminate the hall. Hurst took a knee, readying himself, and Ayers grabbed the knob. He turned it, and as soon as he did, Hurst gave it a great heave. It was heavy, but he was able to open it enough that a zombie wriggled through it.
He immediately shoved his hands up into the creature’s chest, holding it at bay. Ayers stabbed downward, jamming his blade into the top of its skull. Before the creature dropped, however, a chorus of moans erupted from the room.
“He’s not alone!” Ayers cried, and Hurst reinforced his grip, grabbing the creature’s shirt tightly and holding it in place as a barricade against the several other zombies trying to paw through the door.
Ayers reached down and grabbed his flashlight, shining it into a duo of creatures pressing against their unmoving brother.
“When I tell you, lean it to the left,” Ayers instructed. “Okay, now!” he cried, and Hurst moved the corpse, creating an opening for his companion to strike.
Ayers stabbed one of the zombies in the eye and then leapt back before one of the rotted arms could catch him. “One more, we got this,” he huffed.
Hurst struggled to hold the ghoul up while his partner found the next target. A second later, a teenage zombie reached past the slumped ghoul, managing to grip his arm.
“Get this fucker off of me!” Hurst bellowed, and Ayers lined up his shot, stabbing right through the top of the dead teenager’s head.
Hurst shook off the death grip, and both soldiers waited for a moment, listening to the moaning coming from the room, but not seeing the creature.
Ayers shone the light over the corpse’s head into the room, and couldn’t see anything. “I hear something, but don’t see it,” he hissed. “We’re gonna have to go in.”
“Gonna need a second to get up,” Hurst groaned. “You ready?”
His partner nodded. “Go for it.”
Hurst shoved the zombie barricade back into the room and scrambled to his feet while Ayers kept watch. The two men slowly entered the room, shining their flashlights all around. The sound of clattering chains echoed, and they both froze at the sight before them.
“Oh, that’s just fucked up,” Ayers breathed.
On the bed was an older woman, easily in her late seventies, chained by the arms and legs to a bed, thrashing about. Her mouth was bloody, but it was dried and looked like it had been that way for a while. Hurst shone the light onto the zombies they’d taken out, seeing several bite marks on them.
“Looks like they were caring for Granny here when she turned,” Hurst said, grimacing. “Set off a nasty chain reaction.”
Ayers shook his head. “Might explain why my living room assaulter blew his own top,” he said. “Can’t imagine having to lock my family away and listen to them trying
