Dead America The Second Week (Book 11): Dead America: Heartland Pt. 4 by Slaton Derek

Author:Slaton, Derek [Slaton, Derek]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2020-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kowalski raised an eyebrow at Wade, gun right next to his ear, firing his weapon at a consistent clip and reloading as fast as he could.

“You trying to go deaf there, bud?” he asked.

Wade wrinkled his nose. “If it means I don’t have to listen to this shit anymore, I’m all for it.”

The yacht rock blared on as Kowalski chuckled, drawing zombies to the riverbank. He returned to his own scope, taking aim at some corpses that emerged from behind a waterfront house. He dropped all three, but more quickly took their place.

“This is a full-on infestation,” Kowalski said, lips twisting into a frown. “I don’t know how we’re ever going to get all this cleared out.”

“It’s going to take longer than anyone wants to admit,” Wade replied. “Especially with the limited manpower we have.”

His partner nodded. “There’s what, a couple hundred thousand of us troops left? Against a few hundred million zombies?”

“Just means every one of us has to take out a thousand of these things,” Wade said.

Kowalski aimed and fired to accentuate his point. “Well, I’m going to do my part.”

His partner smiled briefly, and he aimed, but his next shot missed as the boat suddenly slowed down. “What now?” he asked.

Kowalski rolled to the side to look at the Corporal on the other boat. “Hey Bretz, what’s going on?”

He pointed up ahead to a fork in the river. There was a small inlet in the middle, and it appeared to go up for quite a ways around the bend and out of sight.

“Looks like that cuts up towards the town,” Bretz said. “What do you think?”

Kowalski shrugged. “I think as long as we get to shoot these undead assholes, we really don’t care where we go.”

“Love the attitude, Private,” Bretz replied dryly, and turned to Mason who still stood behind the controls. “You heard the man, Mason, let’s go find some more targets.”

The private nodded. “You got it.” He pushed forward, pulling in ahead of the other party boat, taking the lead in the narrow inlet.

Bretz pursed his lips as he surveyed the fifteen or so feet on either side of the boat between them and the shores. “Kill the music,” he instructed. “I don’t like how close we are to land. And fire only if necessary.”

Wade did a barrel roll off of the roof and hit the music, grinning with victorious glee as blessed silence befell them.

The boats moved quietly up the waterway, only the rumbling of the engines reverberating in the air. A few dozen zombies staggered around on the banks, but they were spread out thinly, and only a few dared to take steps into the water. Others wandered dumbly through the tall grass.

Around the net bend, there was a clearing on the land, and Bretz squinted at the visible section of the interstate. “Kowalski, can you see anything?” he asked.

The Private stood up on the roof and aimed his rifle toward the roadway. On the north side of the interstate, there was a massive horde, many of them stuck at the barrier but some flopping over onto the south side.

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