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

reason.”

CHAPTER TWO
Corporal Bretz, Private Mason, and Private Baker fiddled with their gear as their three new team members approached.
Private Kent straightened, reaching them first. “Are you Corporal Bretz?” he asked.
The Corporal didn’t look up from his gear. “Yep,” he replied flatly as he packed up several days worth of MREs.
The three newcomers shared nervous glances as they set their stuff down, taken aback by the lack of acknowledgment.
“Oh, well,” Kent replied, running a hand over his bald head, “I’m Private Kent. This is Private Short, and Private Hess. We were told to report to you by some assistant to Captain Kersey.”
Bretz and his duo finally looked up, assessing the three soldiers that were easily in their early twenties.
“I wasn’t aware we were babysitting on this mission,” Baker said dryly.
Kent’s gaze darkened. “Hey now, we’ve seen action just like you boys have,” he snapped. “So drop the fucking attitude, will you?”
Baker clenched a fist and pointed a finger at the kid, “Now you listen here-”
Bretz put a hand out, smacking his palm into his subordinate’s chest. “I think what my friend here is saying,” he drawled, “is that he would feel a whole lot more comfortable knowing what kind of experience you have, since you’ll be watching his back and all.”
Short stepped forward, patting Kent’s shoulder to try to defuse him. “I did a tour in the sandbox,” he said.
Baker blinked, his annoyance melting away. “Wow,” he replied. “A whole tour?”
“Yeah, as a transport driver,” Short explained. “I’d be willing to bet I saw more IEDs go off in that one tour than you saw in however many you were there for. And if that’s not a good enough resume for you, I was on one of the decoy teams in Spokane, and I somehow walked away from Kansas City as well.”
Hess crossed his arms, voice level. “Two tours as a transport driver,” he began, “line fire team in Spokane, emergency rescue team in Kansas City.”
“Transport driver for a tour,” Kent said, raising his chin with a sneer, “wasn’t in K.C. but I was a part of the initial clear teams for the surrounding cities. Line fire team in Spokane.”
Short spread his arms. “Let’s put it this way,” he said, motioning to his companions, “if these were normals times, the military would have moved all three of us up the ranks a notch or two for our experience. But given how everything is fly by the seat of your pants insane at the moment, promotions have kind of taken a back seat to merely surviving the day.”
“So are we good enough for you?” Kent demanded. “Or should we go report to the grunt line?”
Mason and Bretz glanced at Baker, and he chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah, good enough for me,” he said, and stepped forward to shake hands with the youngsters. “I’m Baker, that’s Mason, and of course, that’s Corporal Bretz, who will be leading us through his particular suicide mission.”
Mason groaned. “I really wish you’d stop calling these suicide missions,” he protested. “If they were really suicide missions, we would have died a couple of weeks ago.”
“Not my fault I’m stubborn,” Baker shot back.
Mason scratched the back of his head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it is.”
The group shared a laugh as they continued to organize their gear. There was a large pile of MREs on the floor, along with ammo and other various items.
“Make sure you pack up plenty of rations,” Bretz instructed, “because if we pull this off, we’re going to be on our own for several days.”
Kent grimaced. “Oh good,” he drawled, “nothing like our very own zombie-infested vacation.”
“Not the worst vacation I’ve ever been on,” Baker quipped.
“Oh yeah?” Short asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where was that?”
Baker sighed. “Cabo.”
The trio of newcomers stared at him curiously.
“Cabo?” Kent asked. “How in the hell do you fuck up Cabo?”
Mason shook his head. “He refuses to tell us,” he said. “Our best guess so far is that he got drunk, found a new friend, and brought back a souvenir that he didn’t intend to.”
“I keep telling you that’s not it,” Baker muttered, shaking his head.
Mason and Bretz both rolled their eyes.
“Nah, I’m with Mason,” Kent said, motioning to his new friend, “it’s definitely an unwanted souvenir.”
Baker scowled. “Don’t you start too,” he warned, “or I might have to come over and teach you some manners.”
“Is that what you said to your friend to start your evening to forget in Cabo?” Kent shot back.
“Naw, that’s what his date said to him,” Short added, smacking Kent in the shoulder. “Take a good look at him, don’t he look like the discipline loving type?”
The group, minus Baker, erupted into loud laughter, just as Kersey and David reached them.
“Good to see everyone is getting acquainted,” the Captain declared.
The three new recruits perked up to attention, while the other three just continued casually packing their gear.
Kersey waved his hand at the youngsters. “Please, guys,” he said, “it’s way too early in the damn morning for that. Keep getting ready.” Another yawn escaped his mouth, and he covered it with his fist. “Oh man, sorry.”
“You all right there, Cap?” Bretz asked, brow furrowing.
“Yeah, just,” Kersey replied, and took a sip of his coffee, “lots I gotta be awake for. Which is why I’m going to have my friend David here walk you through the mission.”
David’s eyes widened as all six soldiers turned to him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Oh, okay,” he stammered, “just gonna jump on in.” He pulled out his maps, fumbling the papers a little. “Okay, here we go.” He spread out one of the immediate region, and one of a small town, on a nearby table. “Gentlemen, if you will please focus your attention on the small town map and we’ll get started. What you are looking at is the town of Redmond, a quaint little suburb to the northeast of downtown Seattle. While you can’t really tell from this crop, it is the first signs of civilization as you