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

exactly thrilled with you at the moment.”
Bretz shook his head. “Sorry Sarge, didn’t really have time to get the okay.”
“That was some quick thinking, I’ll give you that,” Murphy replied. “Saved us from getting overrun.”
The Corporal shrugged. “I’m just glad it worked.”
“Me too,” the Sergeant admitted, and then he raised his chin. “But from now on, until I personally place you inside one of those big rigs, you are not to leave my side. Is that clear?”
Bretz nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said firmly.
“Good,” Murphy replied, satisfied. “Now, let’s go see about getting you a ride.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
With the last remnants of the zombie mass laying dead in front of the store, Murphy had a few men pry open the doors before carefully walking inside. The air was stagnant, the building having been sealed shut for nearly a month.
Bretz turned to head for the back, but Murphy put a hand on his arm.
“Not leaving my side remember?” he asked, and the Corporal nodded, halting.
The Sergeant let out a deafening whistle, and the team remained silent, listening for movement or moans. When nothing happened, Murphy motioned for the team to follow him and a trio of soldiers leading them through the store.
They made their way to the back, the other soldiers doing a quick sweep of the back storeroom, finding nothing.
“It’s clear, sir,” one of them reported.
Murphy nodded. “Good, hang tight for a minute,” he said, and then turned to Bretz. “We’ve gotten you this far. What do you need from us?”
The Corporal motioned for Baker and Mason to investigate the back office, hoping that they would find some keys. “Hold that thought, Sergeant,” he said, and then pointed at Kent, motioning for him to check out the back.
Kent jogged over to the door and peered out. “Got four trucks out back here, Corporal,” he said.
“And what do you know, we have keys!” Mason declared as he and Baker emerged from the office.
Bretz raised an eyebrow. “Four sets?”
“Four sets,” Mason replied with a grin, holding up the rings and jingling them.
The Corporal pointed to the door. “Get out there and get the trucks started up,” he instructed, “make sure there’s gas, at least a quarter tank.”
Mason tossed two sets to Baker, and they headed outside with Kent and Short to get things up and going.
“For starters, we still need two more trucks,” Bretz said, turning back to the Sergeant.
Murphy pointed to one of his three soldiers. “You, take a few men from outside, go to the other store across the lot, and make sure the route is clear,” he said. “If you can locate the keys, even better.”
“Before you go…” Hess piped up.
The soldier stopped, and everyone turned to Hess, surprised at the interruption.
“Yes, Private?” Murphy asked.
Hess looked to Bretz. “Corporal, we had talked about the necessity of acquiring more provisions,” he said.
“I think we’ll be okay, Private,” Bretz replied.
Hess took a deep breath. “If it’s all the same sir,” he said politely, “wouldn’t you rather change that think to a know?”
Bretz thought for a moment, and then finally nodded. “He’s right,” he admitted, turning to Murphy. “We could use some more food and water.”
“We’ll take care of it,” the Sergeant replied, and motioned to the departing soldier. “Before you go, make sure each truck has a package of bottled water, as well as a large assortment of goods. Focus on trail mix, jerky and other long lasting proteins.”
Hess grinned. “If they have any, perhaps some chocolate tasty cakes.”
Both Bretz and Murphy cracked a smile.
“Well, you heard the man,” the Sergeant said, “chocolate tasty cakes.”
The soldier nodded and headed out as Mason jogged back inside.
“Corporal,” he said, “we got all four running and there’s plenty of fuel.”
Bretz smiled. “Good deal,” he said. “Make sure the truck containers are secure, and there’s nothing int he back that’s going to trip us up. Once that’s done, we’ll go inspect the trucks at the other site.”
Mason gave him a thumbs up and headed back outside.
Murphy let out a low whistle. “So, you boys are really headed into the shit, aren’t you?” he asked.
“That we are Sarge,” Bretz confirmed, “that we are.”
“Based on what I’ve heard about you and witnessed with my own eyes,” Murphy said, “those dead fuckers aren’t going to know what hit them.”
The Corporal barked a laugh. “Let’s hope you’re right, Sergeant.”


CHAPTER EIGHT
The trucks were all lined up in the shopping center parking lot, in an area clear of zombie corpses. Bretz fired up his truck before looking out the window at Murphy, who gave him a thumbs up.
“You have everything you need, Corporal?” the Sergeant asked.
Bretz nodded. “Food, water, and weapons,” he replied, “everything a growing boy needs.”
“My men said they threw in some books as well,” Murphy replied, “give you something to do while you wait on us to come get you.”
The Corporal looked over into the bag on the passenger seat that had been left for him. He fumbled through and pawed a collection of snacks before finding a stack of books. He picked up one up, chuckling at the shirtless muscled man on the cover holding a woman at a dramatic angle.
“The Rose and the Rapier,” he read, shaking his head. “Well, it will be better than listening to zombie moans.”
Murphy grinned. “You boys be safe out there,” he said. “And I expect a full book report when I come get you.” He smirked. “That’s an order.”
“You’ll have it, sir,” Bretz replied with a laugh. “You watch yourself out there.”
The Sergeant raised a fist. “We have your trash can maneuver,” he declared, “so nothing can stop us now.”
The Corporal nodded and then pulled down on the truck horn a few times, letting out a deafening bleat. He picked up the CB radio and raised it to his lips.
“All right, everybody on com?” he asked, and waited as one by one, the other five soldiers checked in. “Okay, here’s what we’re doing,” he began. “Heading out to the north, the highway is about half a mile up.