Dead America - El Paso Pt. 7 (Dead America - The Third Week) by Derek Slaton

Author:Derek Slaton [Slaton, Derek]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

“Jackpot!” Trenton exclaimed as he spotted a stack of boxes behind the counter. He tore one open, wiggling a bottle of tequila out of its nestled sleeve. Someone had written $399.99/bottle on the outside of the box in black marker.

“What did you find?” Hammond asked, heading over.

Trenton held out the bottle. “It’s tequila that most of us would have to take out a loan to get a taste of.”

“Clara is that going to work for you?” the Sergeant asked, passing it to her.

She took it and inspected the label, a smile growing on her face. “I think we’re good,” she said. “How much is back there?”

He dog through the boxes, opening each one to make sure they were full. “Three cases.”

“That should buy us enough time to take out Tiago and get our boy back,” Hammond replied.

Jeff emerged from one of the aisles carrying two cases of liquor, setting them down on the counter. “All right, I got what I came for.”

“Sorry Jeff, but we got three cases,” Clara said, eyes apologetic. “That’s a lot for us to carry out.”

He sighed heavily before wandering off, muttering to himself, “Goddammit, I said we needed to bring a truck.” After a few moments, he came back dragging two shopping carts behind him. “Okay, we’re good.”

Clara laughed and gave him a thumbs up. As they began to load the cases into the carts, there was a loud thud at the door. They all froze and looked at it, and then eyes widened at the sound of more, faster, thumping and slapping all together.

“Guess the fire didn’t take them all out,” Hammond said.

Jeff rushed to the window and looked outside, seeing about a dozen creatures, mostly singed and black, but a few completely untouched. “Got twelve of them, three or four by the door.”

The Sergeant thought for a second. “Were there any more of those shopping carts?” he asked.

The skinhead grinned, catching on. “You get the door,” he instructed.

Hammond headed for the door as his new partner grabbed a cart. Jeff went to the far side, lining himself up.

“You ready?” the Sergeant asked.

Jeff nodded. “Damn right,” he replied. “You just be ready to back me up.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Hammond said with a smile.

Clara and Trenton stared back and forth between them, confused. She opened her mouth to ask what was happening, but Jeff held up a hand.

“You just keep doing what you’re doing,” he instructed. “And if there’s room, throw in a couple more bottles of high end whiskey.” He threw her a wink and then let out a yell before tearing down the aisle.

Just before he reached the door, Hammond opened it with perfect timing so that Jeff could blow across the threshold and slam the cart into the three zombies in front. He hit them with such force that they flew back into the air as the cart plowed into them.

With the entranceway clear, Hammond grabbed two bottles of wine and leapt into the fray. He lunged at one of the standing zombies and slammed a bottle into its face, caving it in and dropping it.

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