Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 5 | Dead America-Seattle [Part 3]

we’re pushing through that.”
“Is there another way around?” Baker asked.
Kent paused, and then came in, “According to the map, the only other route is on the interstate, and it isn’t looking much better.”
“Corporal, what are we doing?” Short asked.
Bretz stared at the horde, a deep sigh deflating his chest. This day kept getting worse and worse. “I think it’s time to call in air support,” he finally said.
“Fuck yeah!” Kent bellowed. “Light them motherfuckers up!”
“All right boys,” Baker said, “let’s back it up a bit. Don’t want to catch some blowback.”
As the trucks began to move in reverse, Bretz pulled out his satellite phone, dialing up Captain Kersey. It rang for several minutes, and then David answered.
“Captain Kersey’s office,” he greeted.
Bretz took a deep breath. “David, it’s Corporal Bretz,” he replied. “We need our air support.”
“What’s your location?” David asked.
The Corporal swallowed hard. “Four-o-five interchange.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the communications expert replied, “That’s gonna be a no-go, sir. Orders are to protect major infrastructure.”
“There’s a thousand zombies underneath the bridge, and even more on top,” Bretz insisted firmly. “Either we get air support to come in and clear it out, or this mission is over right here and now.”
“Hold, please,” David replied, and there was a click as the line went quiet.
After a few moments, Kersey came in, “Sounds like you’re in a bit of a pickle there, Corporal.”
Bretz sighed. “That’s an understatement, Cap,” he replied. “We need that air support if this mission is going to be successful.”
“David filled me in,” Kersey explained. “But tell me, how tall is that bridge?”
Bretz cocked his head, staring at the bridge. “Twenty feet, give or take.”
“How’s the road looking in front of it?” the Captain asked.
The Corporal shrugged. “Surprisingly clear,” he admitted. “Only a handful of cars and most of those are on the other side of the road.”
“I think we can work with that,” Kersey replied, and then his voice muffled. “David, dispatch two choppers to Bretz’s location.” He moved his hand, and clearly said into the phone, “All right, you got incoming that will be there within a half an hour,” he said. “Just make sure you’re far enough back.”
Bretz nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Way ahead of you, Cap.”
Kersey paused, and then asked, “Everything going okay out there?”
“Mostly,” the Corporal replied, grimacing. “Had some issues at the last stop and we’re down to five trucks.” His voice stayed monotone, not betraying any emotion.
“Okay,” the Captain replied easily, “if there’s a safe spot to pick up a sixth, you have clearance to do so.”
Bretz clenched a fist, swallowing hard, trying to squash his emotions to stay focused. “Won’t do any good,” he replied thickly. “Mason’s not with us anymore.”
There was a long silence, as Kersey processed the information that his friend was dead. “Understood, Corporal,” he finally said. “Do what you can with what you have. Call when it’s complete.”
“Yes sir,” Bretz replied. “And Kersey…”
“Yes?”
The Corporal took a deep breath. “Thanks.” He was glad the Captain didn’t push the issue. He knew the information hurt Kersey as well, but he didn’t want to talk about it, nor think about it, at the moment. They’d have time to grieve later.
The Captain didn’t respond, and didn’t have to. Bretz set down the phone, popping the truck into reverse and moving back to join the others.

CHAPTER TEN
The group sat a mile away from the interchange, yammering over the CB radio about nonsense. Bretz leaned back in the driver’s seat, chomping on a granola bar and reading one of the trashy romance novels to attempt to get his mind off of things.
After a few moments of solitude, there was a knock at the passenger window, and he jumped. He looked up and saw Baker waving at him, so he unlocked the door.
The Private opened it and slid inside, closing the door behind him. “We’re looking clear, so I thought I’d come over and check on you,” he said.
“I’m fine,” Bretz replied flatly.
Baker leaned over and looked at the book, raising an eyebrow. “You’re reading the Rose and the Rapier,” he said. “Even under normal circumstances, that would be a cry for help.”
The Corporal didn’t have the energy to laugh. He dog-eared the page and closed it, setting it aside with a deep sigh. “Now’s not the time.”
“I agree,” Baker said, “which is why I’m here to talk about the mission. We’re a truck short after all, and we need to figure out what to do about it. Thought you could use a sounding board without the newbies.” He reached over and turned down the CB radio before pulling out one of the maps.
Bretz took a deep breath and nodded, feeling good about being in work mode. “Well, we need two trucks to block off the five-twenty bridge, and I think we should definitely do that.”
“Once we get past this interchange, we’re less than a mile away from it,” Baker replied. “Are you thinking we drop two off as originally planned?”
The Corporal nodded. “I think we need to, don’t you?” he asked. “We know for a fact we can complete this part of the mission, and based on what we saw in Redmond, our boys on foot coming in from the east are going to need all the help they can get.”
“Every zombie we block is a zombie they don’t have to fight,” the Private agreed.
Bretz nodded. “Meaning it’ll be more likely they’ll get to us sooner rather than later.”
“I’m all about that,” Baker replied, and picked up the offending book, “especially if this is the level of entertainment quality we can expect.”
Bretz chuckled, finally giving in to the levity. “It’s not as bad as the cover makes it out to be.”
“Okay, now I’m really worried about you,” Baker said, shaking his head.
The Corporal shrugged. “I mean, a dude did get stabbed in the face in the first chapter,” he insisted.
“All right,” Baker replied, setting the book down. “Maybe it’s not all bad after all.”
They shared a laugh, both of