Read America the Dead Online

Authors: Joseph Talluto

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America the Dead (25 page)

BOOK: America the Dead
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Sgt. Milovich and Cpl. Kazinski smiled and straightened up. This was the sort of thing they enjoyed. Inflicting damage without risk to themselves.

Thorton stopped them before they went back to gather their men. “Don’t take risks. This one is a survivor and if you don’t get him right away, you’ll take damage.” This was as close as Thorton was going to get to admitting Talon might be a bigger threat than he previously thought.

Thorton looked over the men as they tossed their gear into the truck and clambered after it, finding comfortable seats to check their weapons and prepare themselves. He nodded as they saluted him and watched as his sergeant and corporal climbed into the cab of the truck and started away.
Nothing will be stopping me now
, he thought as the truck moved out.

Turning back to the rest of the men, he shouted out his orders. “Pack it up! We’re moving out! I want to be gone in two hours!” Thorton walked back to his own vehicle and checked his personal supplies.
Need to hit a supply station soon
, he thought, looking over his meager horde.
We’ll see what the next stop on the map is
.

 

21

 

 

An hour and a half later, Thorton and his men were moving out along Route 50 again, passing several miles of unused and run-down farmland. Nature was taking back much of the land and Thorton could see a lot of growth of new tress and grass. Off in the distance, he saw a few tilled fields, indicative of someone making a go of it alone, but he wasn’t interested in loners like that. They were all over and the fact they were alone and still alive made them very suspicious and very capable of defending themselves. Two of Thorton’s men discovered that fact in Kansas and they nearly died as a result.

The first town they came to on the road was Allensburg and the initial impression Thorton got was pretty dismal. There were several homes along the main road, but if they had been abandoned during the Upheaval or years before, it was hard to tell. Some homes were boarded up, some were broken into, some were intact. There were several buildings and businesses, but the central industry seemed to be alcohol consumption, based on the number of bars the single main street boasted.

As the two trucks rumbled into the town, Thorton signaled a halt. There was a hardware store off to the left, a small gas station down to the right and a little way down the street, was a grocery store. It was the only building with a paved parking lot, Thorton noted. He climbed out of the truck and looked around. There was no zombie activity that he could see, so he figured the town was pretty safe. He went to the back of the truck and talked to the men sitting back there.

“You two,” he said, pointing to the two nearest men. “Check out the hardware store, see if there is anything of use in there or for trade goods.” That was a trick that Thorton had come up with for towns that were reluctant to open up. Offer them something and when their guard was down, that was the moment to strike. “You two,” he said to another pair. “Head up the street and check out the grocery store. There might be something to restock with. Get moving.”

The major walked back to the second truck and talked to the men there. “You three,” he said, talking to the men who poked their heads out the back. “Run a quick check through the homes here, see if there is anything we can use. Make it quick. If it looks like it has been abandoned for a while, leave it. Go.”

The men jumped out of the truck and headed back the way they came, looking to do a quick sweep of the homes they had already passed. The men from the first truck spread out and went to their various objectives, looking to finish as quickly as possible.

Thorton watched them go and turned his head north, thinking about the surprise that was going to be waiting for Talon. He grinned and turned his attention back to his men and the town they were in. Something was tweaking the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. No matter, they’d be out of here in a little while anyway.

 

Private Ellis and Private Barnes walked quickly over to the hardware store. They liked missions like this because it gave them a chance to prove what they could do and perhaps get a chance at promotion. The building was a steel structure, with two small windows in front and two standard steel doors. The front doors were locked, so the two men walked around towards the back. Private Ellis noticed a set of skylights that were open, so if they had to, they could get in that way. Around the back of the building there was a dumpster turned over on its side and garbage was strewn all over. The ground was dark under the dumpster, like something that had been thrown away leaked oil.

Barnes reached the back door and tried the handle. “No luck,” he said to Ellis.

Ellis shook his head. “Damn. Guess that means we gotta go on the roof.”

Barnes looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Ellis stepped back and pointed at the open skylights. “We just have to get up there.”

Barnes looked and smiled at the other private. “Nice one. Course, this works out well another way.”

“What’s that?”

“Locked all around means there’s a good chance something worthwhile might still be in there.”

“Truth. Let’s get up there. Still got your cord?”

Barnes checked his pack. “’Bout fifty feet. That should be plenty,” he said.

Ellis went over to the dumpster and grunting, heaved it back up onto its wheels. He pushed it over to the side of the arching structure and stood on top, trying to reach the skylight. He was about a foot short, so climbing down, he picked up a couple of stray cinder blocks and threw them up on the dumpster lid, hitting the side of the building with a deep booming sound.

Climbing up, Private Ellis was able to reach the skylight, so he grasped the edge and pulled himself up, hooking a leg in the opening and straddling the window as he pushed open the skylight to allow easier access. Barnes pulled his rappelling cord from his pack and secured an end to the bottom of the heavy dumpster. He then tossed the bulk of the cord to Ellis, who sent it down into the gloomy interior of the hardware store.

Private Ellis slid down the rope and looked around, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. He was standing in the fasteners aisle, with nails on one side, screws on the other and a smattering of glue on the far end. He could see a center aisle in the store, separating it from the front rows and in the rear there looked to be a small office, flanked by a key making station. His attention was distracted by the rope wiggling and the bulk of Private Barnes blocking the light as he slid through the window. He didn’t notice a dark shape move down at the front end of the store, slipping down a nearby aisle.

Private Barnes slid down quickly, landing heavily. He shook his hands and straightened sheepishly, then looked around as well. “Looks like this place has been home to just birds and bugs,” he said, looking at a row of boxes damaged by rainwater which had fallen through the skylights. The air had a musty smell and there was evidence of a decent growth of mold on the rain-ruined boxes.

“Yeah, but let’s see what we can find. Should be something good here.” He started for the front of the store. “You check those aisles over there and let me know what you find. I’m going to check the front.”

Private Ellis stepped away and Private Barnes limped slightly to the back. He discovered the battery section, so he grabbed a few batteries for his weapons’ light and flashlights. He grabbed some more for good measure, stuffing them into his pack. He moved back along the wall, passing the gardening tools and sprinklers. He found the hunting section and saw there was still some ammo on the shelves. Jackpot. He grabbed a bucket from the gardening section and started to fill it with the ammo, from shotgun shells to rifle bullets.

Private Barnes was so focused he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him and became aware only when a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Finished already, dude?” Barnes straightened up and turned around, coming face to face with a badly decayed zombie. Its skin was pulled tight around its skull, emphasizing the tears in its bluish skin. Its arms were thin, but as Barnes turned around, the hand that was on his shoulder was matched on the other shoulder by the zombie’s other hand, which was missing three fingers and before Barnes could move or scream, the zombie’s head darted forward to sink its black teeth into his face. The private cried out as the zombie hung on and bore him to the floor, tearing at his face.

Private Ellis was up front filling his backpack with seeds from a display case. These were always good for trade when they found a community of survivors and sometimes went in for goodwill. He had a handful of packets when he heard Private Barnes cry out. He stood up and shouted, “You okay?” When he didn’t get an answer he started to move towards the back but found his path blocked by a large shape moving in his direction. Ellis dropped his pack and whipped his rifle up, but just as he was about to fire a searing pain exploded in his leg. He looked down and to his horror, saw a small zombie child furiously chewing on his calf, tearing off chunks of meat and drooling blood down its little chin. Private Ellis dropped his rifle as he fought off the little zombie, throwing it bodily away from him as he fell to the ground, unable to stand on his injured leg. As he fell, he saw the little zombie get back up and head back in his direction, followed by the large zombie. Ellis pulled his knife and waited for the little bastard to get closer, determined to take out the zombie that just killed him.

 

Private Hook and Private Gomez ran quickly down the street to the grocery store. They didn’t want to be caught out in the open and didn’t want to get cut off without a retreat in case the zombies swarmed them. That had happened in Missouri and all of them were still wondering what to make of the change in the zombies behavior.

Reaching the front of the building, Hook checked the door before declaring, “Locked.”

Gomez nodded and they trotted around to the back of the store looking to see if the supply door was open. A quick check revealed it was locked as well.

“Ideas?” Gomez asked.

Private Hook thought for a second. “No time to pick it, let’s go back to the front and break the glass.”

Private Gomez nodded and the pair returned to the front of the building. It was a generic grocery store, with yellowing posters advertising sales inside. Some of the posters had fallen down, revealing a glimpse of the dark world inside. Gomez put his face to the glass and looked around for a long minute, checking to make sure there were no leftover shoppers looking for fresh meat from the butcher section.

With nothing to see, he nodded to Hook, who used the butt of his rifle to break the bottom section of one of the doors. Clearing the broken glass with his boot, he ducked under the center bar and moved into the store, rifle at the ready. A small in-store bank was in front of him, with a small teller counter and smaller office. Behind the bank was a long hallway leading to the checkout registers. As he moved slightly to his left, he scanned the frozen food section in front of him and the cereal aisle next to that. Nothing was moving and he waited for Gomez to catch up.

“Which way?” Hook asked.

Gomez pointed to the right. “Looks like there might be some canned goods that way. Let’s check.” The floor was littered with discarded goods, scattered hopes of survival. A corpse was lying in the corner, a blood streak on the wall and a skeletal hand gripping a can of beans explained what this person died for.

The two men walked carefully past the packaged meat section, avoiding the dark and rotting packages still hanging on the brackets. The rice pudding had turned grey, much to Hook’s disappointment, since it used to be his favorite.

Gomez wiped his face as he moved to the next aisle. He hated these kinds of missions, where he never knew what was coming next. The next aisle could be full of zombies, just waiting to pounce. Give him a stand up fight with plenty of ammo any day.

They turned down the canned section and the shelves were nearly bare. There were a scattering of cans worth taking, so they put those in their packs. As they worked, Gomez stopped suddenly.

“You hear something?” he asked.

Hook immediately put down his pack and cans and picked up his rifle. “No. What did you hear?” he asked nervously.

Gomez shook his head. “I thought I heard a wheezing sound, like a dog or something?”

Private Hook relaxed a bit. “Could be. Might be one that got in here and is sleeping. Had a hound once that snored louder than my Dad’s uncle. And that was a trick to do, let me tell you.”

Gomez laughed softly. “Had a girlfriend who snored loud once. Denied it forever, but, hombre, she could shake the—wait. There it is again!”

Hook and Gomez listened and sure enough, they could hear a high-pitched sound, like a low pressure steam valve. It seemed to be coming from a nearby aisle. But in the building, it was hard to tell for sure.

Grabbing what they could, Gomez said, “Let’s see if there is anything in the dried goods, like rice or pasta.”

“Good plan,” Hook agreed. “You remember which aisle?’

“Should be the far one.”

“You go first.”

“Jerk.”

Private Gomez moved quickly to the end of the aisle and glanced around. Directly in front of him was the produce section, long rotted away. The air still had a sickly sweet smell of decaying fruit and vegetables and the floor had turned brown from the slime of the rotted food. Gomez swung out and trained his rifle at the dairy section and waved the other man forward. “Clear,” he said.

BOOK: America the Dead
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