The heavier machine held its own, not losing its balance just yet, however even with the extended reach, there were still pockets where the monsters could slip through.
“Rebar!” Zion cried, and Calvin tossed him a piece.
He ran up to the coming zombies on one side, spearing one through the chest and driving it back into the reach of the chain, taking off the back part of its skull. He swung wildly, doing everything he could do to hold the monsters at bay.
Calvin pulled out his gun and began shooting on the other flank, picking off creatures one by one. “You four, get back to the crossroads!” he barked.
Tori clenched her jaw and stared at him with a worried gaze, but he shot her a wink before turning and continuing to fire.
The kids retreated, leaving the two warriors alone to stem the tide. The battle went on for several minutes, with Zion pushing hard to keep zombies from breaking the line. Eventually the lopper grew overwhelmed from turning the zombies into a puree and began to wobble.
“Watch it!” Calvin warned, and Zion glanced over, darting back just as the machine went haywire. There was a deafening blast of metal on pavement, shredding several dozen zombies as it gave its last bit of strength.
Zion ran back to Calvin, the duo standing forty yards from the crossroads, looking on at the coming horde. He looked down at his watch.
“Four minutes,” he said, and raised his chin. “You think we got it?”
Calvin clapped him on the back. “Without a doubt, brother,” he replied. “Without a doubt.”
They shared a fist bump and prepared to make a final stand to hold off the horde. Once the creatures were within ten yards of them, honking cut through the air behind them.
Zion and Calvin looked back, seeing two shuttles sitting at the crossroads. Wendy flicked on the internal light, showing that everyone was aboard.
The duo didn’t hesitate, turning and sprinting for the buses, leaving the horde in the dust. As they reached the door, the redhead put a hand on her hip at the top of the stairs.
“You boys need a ride?” she asked.
Zion grinned. “Fuck yeah we do,” he replied.
Wendy pointed to the other bus. “I think your girlfriend is on the other one,” she said. “She’s cute, you should hang on to her.”
“I intend to!” Calvin declared and then ran off to the other bus as Zion zipped up to join Wendy.
She patted the driver on the shoulder. “Let’s roll.”
The buses rolled across the crossroads safely, and Zion checked his watch. Two minutes left.
“You’re early,” he said with a smile.
She shrugged sheepishly. “We may have sped a little.”
Zion flopped down in a seat in the front row, shaking his head. The reality of the situation fell down on his shoulders like a ton of bricks.
“I can’t believe it’s all gone,” he said, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Everything we built, just obliterated. And all those people we left behind.”
Wendy sat next to him. “Who, like Adam and his group?” she asked. “We got him well stocked up, so he can ride it out until we get back. Or whoever sent those damn missiles. Would be nice if they came and lended a hand.”
“Nah, this is on us,” he replied, eyes darkening. “God help whoever sent those missiles if they ever run into me.”
She studied his expression, watching the quiet rage boil up in him. Rather than press the issue, she patted him on the leg gently.
“Monique is gonna be happy to see you,” she said, hoping to defuse him. When he simply continued to stare out into the darkness, she got to her feet. “I’m going to go check on the others. It’ll be okay, Zion. Just be thankful we got so many people out safely.”
He nodded slightly, his chest burning with the anger building towards the people who destroyed his town, his community. It won’t be today, he thought. It won’t be tomorrow. But soon, someone is gonna pay.
END
Up Next: The invasion of Seattle begins as Sergeant Copeland leads a daring mission to the north of the city in “Seattle - Part 1”
SEATTLE - PART 1
DEAD AMERICA: THE NORTHWEST INVASION
BOOK 3
BY DEREK SLATON
© 2020
CHAPTER ONE
Day Zero +23
Captain Kersey sat in a small back office at the tiny regional airport at midnight. He studied several maps of the Seattle area, multi-colored marks flowing in various directions across them. The desk before him with the radio on it was buried in papers.
He took a deep breath. The responsibility on his shoulders was heavy. Even though he was just a Captain, and a newly promoted one at that, General Stephens, Adams, and the entirety of the presidential inner circle valued his on-the-ground experience so much that they’d given him command of barricade and diversion forces.
To the outside observer, that wouldn’t sound all that impressive, however, to those in the know, it showed great confidence in the Captain. These three missions—the northern barricade, Mercer Island, and the downtown run—were all vital to the success of the mission.
Kersey pored over the maps as the noises outside grew louder. More men moved in, machinery came in and out. The moment was upon them, the biggest single operation since the invasion of Normandy. Not only was this larger, it was arguably more important. That had been a battle for freedom, but this was for the survival of the nation, and possibly the human race.
As he contemplated, brow furrowed, the radio sprung to life.
“Captain Kersey, do you copy?” Stephens’ voice came through.
Kersey picked up the receiver and stood up from the maps, refocusing his attention. “Yes, General.”
“What’s your status?” Stephens asked.
“The northern blockade
