Zommunist Invasion by Picott, Camille (ebook reader ink TXT) 📗

“No. Blood has never bothered me.” Amanda furrowed her brow as she once again squeezed the dense muscle of the corpse. “Do you think these guys can swim? Their body density must be off the charts. I wonder if they’d sink?”

“We can test out your theory if we’re ever running from mutants and happen to be near water. Is that all you need?” Lena gestured to the dead mutant.

Amanda considered the body. Honestly, it would probably be a good idea to get an organ for study. But even though she wasn’t bothered by blood, there was big difference between slicing off a piece of arm muscle and digging around in a body cavity. She definitely wanted gloves for that.

“Yeah, I think that will do for now.” She fished the Ziploc out of her pocket and used it to pick up the chunk of flesh. After compressing the seal, she wrapped the plastic up and tucked the whole piece into her back pocket.

“Is there a reason you wanted to get the flesh sample today?” Lena had returned her attention to the trees.

“It’s not like I can go out anytime I want to get a piece of mutant. I figured if we ran into any out here, we may actually have a chance to get a piece of him.” She glanced at the body. “Literally, a piece of him.”

They girls climbed back up the hillside to the truck. Dal had taken down the antenna and was sliding the transmitter back through the cab window.

“Everything go smoothly with the broadcast?” Lena asked.

“Yep. How’d it go for you guys?”

“We learned mutants have very dense muscle mass,” Lena said. “Amanda thinks the nezhit virus was originally intended to create super soldiers.”

Dal’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Just a theory.” Amanda climbed into the back of the truck. “All information is good though, right?”

“Sure. Can’t hurt,” Dal said.

Lena shot Amanda a conspiratorial grin. “Now we just need to get you a microscope.”

Dal fired up the engine, made a slow three-point turn, and headed back the way they had come. They entered a thickly wooded section, the tall trees on either side of them casting the truck into shade. Dal was forced to weave among the trees.

Amanda fished the tissue sample out of her pocket. She pressed the flesh between her fingers, once again marveling at how solid it was. It felt firm, almost like a cork from one of her parent’s wine bottles.

She would love to know how it compared to a piece of muscle off a regular human, but they didn’t dissect humans in high school.

Amanda had been considering a degree in pre-med for her college undergrad. As she turned the Ziploc-wrapped sample between her hands, she realized how well-suited she would be for the field.

It wasn’t until she returned the sample to her pocket that she looked up and noticed the helicopter in the sky. The old truck was so loud, she hadn’t even heard the approaching chopper over the roar of the engine.

Panic leaped into her throat.“Guys, helicopter!”

“What the hell?” Lena spun around, kneeling on the seat for a better look. Dal craned his neck, attempting to adjust the rearview mirror while he drove.

“Holy shit,” Lena said. “Dal, we have to get out of sight.”

19

Log

Dal jerked the steering wheel, heading into a thicker clump of trees.

Amanda couldn’t peel her eyes from the incoming helicopter. It was white with a big red cross painted on the side. It was a medical helicopter flying over Armstrong Woods—and heading straight for them.

It must be filled with Soviets. As much as Amanda wanted to believe something else, it was the only reasonable explanation. There hadn’t been anything in the sky since the invasion.

“They found us,” Amanda said.

Lena must have come to the same conclusion. “Dal, how long was your broadcast?”

“I cut it off at forty-five seconds.” The truck bumped over the rocky terrain as Dal frantically edged it through the trees. “Not a second over. You know how careful I am.”

“They were ready for us.” Amanda tracked the helicopter. It gained on them with every passing second. “They must have assigned a team to monitor the airwaves and track us.”

This was bad. Very, very bad.

Dal continued to edge the truck between the trunks. They came up against a wall of bay trees and were forced to stop. The trees were too close together. There was no way to get the truck to the other side without backtracking.

They couldn’t afford to backtrack. They were out of time. The whomp-whomp of the helicopter blades were nearly upon them.

“Out,” Dal cried. “We have to hide!”

Amanda seized her gun, jumped out of the truck, and landed beside Lena. They hustled around the front of the truck and sprinted as fast as they could away from the truck.

The helicopter flew into view. Amanda felt the wind of its blades against the back of her neck. She poured on an extra burst of speed, pumping her arms. The machine gun bounced against her back. Mrs. Fink wouldn’t recognize her if she saw her now.

“Get down,” Lena screamed.

The girls went in opposite directions. Lena leaped for shelter in a tight cluster of madrones. Amanda dove for cover behind a fallen bay tree, hugging her machine gun to her chest.

The tree had tipped over recently; the leaves were still green and pungent. Amanda had just enough time to throw her arms over her head before an explosion detonated behind her.

She smothered a scream as shrapnel cut through the air. Chunks of metal from the truck. Glass. She even saw the remains of the transmitter ejected through the air. The very air vibrated from the strike.

The dust hadn’t even settled before another explosion hit the truck. This time, dust and forest debris accompanied the shrapnel. Amanda inhaled a lungful of dust and coughed. The helicopter whirred overhead.

She braced herself for another explosion.

It came. Except it wasn’t the truck that was under attack this time.

She peered through the trees just in time to see the helicopter drift