Dead Run_A Zombie Apocalypse Novel by R. J. Spears

Author:R. J. Spears [Spears, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Plan of Attack

“Amateurs,” Kilgore said while kneeling quietly next to the side of a house. He spied the house across the street through his binoculars, watching through the predawn haze. Perimeter security was weak. The man on duty at that moment might just as well have been asleep. Instead of getting up and patrolling the area, the only sentry sat in a comfortable rocking chair on the porch of the house, wrapped in what looked like a comforter.

Kilgore noted that some of the vinyl siding hung off the house in several places.

The pride of homeownership died with the world, Kilgore thought. The thought made the corner of his lips turn up in a wry smile.

Trees planted sporadically around the houses on the street showed some maturity on them but had a lot more growth left in them. All of the lawns were out of control with tall grass and weeds. A group of vehicles, ranging from SUVs to trucks, filled the driveways of two houses and street out front.

Dim lights burned inside the house with the lone sentry, but Kilgore had seen a light on in the house next door, and that caused some concern. He also wondered why they had spread their group out into two houses. He didn’t think this traveling group was that large. But he put that concern aside because they were where they were, and he and his men had a job to do.

The Harley-thing had led them to this location, sniffing the air of the mystic auras or some voodoo bullshit. Kilgore didn’t care. He was on the precipice of finally getting his hands on Jason Carter. Once Carter was in captivity or dead, then Kilgore would be free. Free from the Night Visitor. Free from the Harley-thing. Free from the terror and free from the guilt.

He rarely thought about the guilt, but it was always there, lurking in the back of his consciousness.

Fuck guilt, he thought. You have to survive. That was job one. Then you deal with whatever shit comes up. Bury it, most likely, and go on.

His ruminations were interrupted when he heard soft footsteps behind him. When he turned to look, he saw Private Soto moving up, rifle held in the ready position.

Soto moved to beside Kilgore and said, “The men are in position. Harley or whatever he is now has his part ready.” There was a sense of disgust in Soto’s tone, but Kilgore ignored it.

“Good,” Kilgore said. “Harley moves first, then in the confusion, we make our move.”

“You said it looks like there might be people in the house next door. Any idea how many people are here?”

“No way to tell,” Kilgore replied. “Plan for a dozen.”

“There’s only four of us. Four of us and Harley.”

“Yes, it looks like Jason Carter and his people may have made more friends,” Kilgore replied. Then he added, “But Harley’s bringing friends to the party,” Kilgore said.

Yes, Soto thought. But not any friends he wanted around. Not now. Not ever, but you don’t always get to choose your allies.

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