Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 3 | Dead America-Seattle [Part 1]

the back of his head. “Hope that’s all they left,” he quipped.
Mack shut the car door before fiddling around with the keys. He finally got the car locked and then paused. “You ready?” he asked.
“As much as I’m gonna be,” Moss admitted.
Mack took a deep breath and looked around one more time before giving the car a good shove. It didn’t take much, just his light touch, to set off the alarm. A loud horn bleated, echoing through the neighborhood, causing both soldiers to wince.
“Goddamn that’s loud,” Moss declared.
Mack waved at him. “Let’s get to the house!”
They rushed to the two-story building, seeing some of the bushes across the street start to jiggle. They raised their assault rifles as they approached the house, and Moss took point, heading for the front door as Mack covered his rear.
He pulled a flashlight, holding it above the barrel of his gun before stepping inside. As he cleared the threshold, he spotted movement coming from the back of the room at the mouth of the hallway. He immediately fired, clipping a zombie in the face.
“Keep your fire down!” Mack hissed. “We want the car to attract them, not us!”
Moss shook his head. “Relax, as long as we got the alarm, we’re-” Before he could finish his sentence, the alarm kicked off. “... Good. Shit.” He kept his flashlight up and quickly drew his knife, waiting in the living room.
With the silence, he could finally hear footsteps on the second floor of the house. Meanwhile, Mack pulled out the keys and pressed the alarm button.
“Anytime now, bud,” Moss urged.
His friend shook his head frantically. “I’m hitting it and nothing’s happening,” he replied.
“Might be too far away,” Moss said, swallowing hard.
“Shit,” Mack muttered. “Hang tight.” He stepped off of the front porch and started walking towards the car, hitting the alarm button the entire way. When he got to the edge of the yard, it finally went off. As it blared, he turned to retreat into the house, but there were a dozen zombies coming around the side towards him. “Moss!” he cried.
He took off towards the house, pulling out his assault rifle. It was dark, and he was twenty yards away, but he opened fire anyway. His three-round bursts tore through the zombies, hitting mostly torsos but hitting one zombie in the head.
The gunfire alerted Moss, who quickly dashed out and opened fire himself, ripping the zombies to shreds at close range. Mack tore for the door, and his partner nearly fired at him, at the last second realizing who it was and stopping just in time.
“Christ dude, you all right?” Mack cried.
His friend nodded shakily. “Come on, let's clear this place out before the alarm stops,” he said, and rushed back inside.
The duo pulled their flashlights and moved through the house quickly. Moss headed up the stairs, and as he approached the top, he spotted two zombies in the hallway, caught in a baby gate that had been wedged across it. They moaned and reached for him, and he quickly put them down with two precise shots to the head.
As they slumped over the gate, the alarm outside stopped. He listened closely for noise, but heard none. He tapped on the hardwood floor to draw any others out, but nothing came. As he descended the staircase again, Mack was just heading out the door.
“Clear upstairs,” Moss reported.
His friend nodded. “Good deal,” he replied. “I’m gonna get another blast going.”
“We may need to hit the house next door,” Moss suggested. “Not that safe for you to keep going outside.”
Mack rolled his eyes. “What’s this me stuff?” he drawled. “You’re up next.”
Before his partner could answer, the alarm began to blare on its own, and they shared an excited look. Mack shut the front door, and they hurried over to the living room window to look outside.
A few zombies hung out around the vehicle, banging on the doors and windows in reaction to the noise. Eventually the alarm stopped, and the duo waited with bated breath for a ghoul to hit it again.
“Come on, come on,” Moss murmured, “you know you want what’s in there.”
A few seconds later, one of the zombies bonked into the driver’s side, setting off the alarm again. This enraged its brethren, and they all began to smack the car with vigor. More zombies emerged from the side streets, a ton of them coming from the north.
“What do you think, give it fifteen minutes to make sure it’s still working?” Mack asked.
Moss shook his head. “Hell no,” he replied, checking his weapons. “We need to get out of here before it really draws a crowd. Then we find a house close to the dealership and hold up for fifteen minutes.”
The two men shared a fist bump before heading towards the back door. They peered out at the smattering of zombies marching through the backyard. As they shambled past, Mack unlocked the sliding door and gently opened it. They silently crept across the back deck and hopped over the side, landing on the soft grass.
Keeping to the darkness, the duo pressed up against the house as more zombies came out of the neighboring yards. They froze when the alarm went silent, knowing that a single noise could doom them with this kind of gathering. A few seconds later, it began blaring again, keeping the attention of the nearby creatures.
They took the opportunity to bolt, running through a backyard and off into the darkness towards the dealership.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Copeland and the rest of his crew waited at the entrance of the Super Center, keeping an eye on the zombies on the bridge and interstate. Johnson stood beside him with the night vision scope, surveying the landscape.
The bridge began to clear out with the zombies moving to the north, attracted by the sniper fire. The ones on the interstate had either joined the bridge group, or had started being drawn south by the sound of car alarms, creating a mostly zombie-free pocket.
“Johnson, how we