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

if he didn’t want his brains to end up in the stomach the fucking mutant.

His world narrowed to a root-ridden strip of earth covered with pungent eucalyptus leaves that separated him from the monster. It was just him and the crazed mutant zombie who was hell-bent on eating his brains.

This time, he remembered his knife. He snatched it free of his sheath just as she grappled him. She locked both hands around his head, attempting to force him to the ground where she could crack open his head. She screamed into his face, rotted breath scorching his nostrils.

Anton screamed right back. He brought up the knife and slammed it straight into her temples. The mutant didn’t release him. Her hands tightened reflexively on his skull even as her remaining eyeball rolled back in her head. With a defiant hiss, her knees buckled as she died.

Anton shoved hard with both hands. The mutant’s hands tore free, scraping out a few chunks of his scalp. Anton kicked her away. He paused only long enough to retrieve his knife, looking up to assess the situation.

Just as he did, a new mutant attacked Tate. The monster bolted out from between the bumpers of two cars, sprinting straight toward his friend. The mutant’s neck and shoulders were enlarged. He would have looked like a caricature of a professional wrestler if he wasn’t so damn scary.

“Tate, look out!” Anton raced for his fallen machine gun.

He wasn’t fast enough. The mutant tackled Tate to the ground and pinned him.

Anton snatched up his machine gun just as the mutant raised a large rock in his hand.

Anton flashed back to the moment in Hillsberg when Jim, Tate’s older brother, had been killed by a mutant. No fucking way was he going to lose another Craig brother to a mutant. Not on his watch.

The rock came down. Tate managed to jerk his head to the side and avoid the worst of the blow. The rock came up a second time.

Anton fired, bullets hitting the hand that held the rock. The mutant screamed in pain. The distraction was enough for Tate to dislodge him. He shoved the mutant aside, snatched the .22 he wore on his belt, and pointed it at the monster.

Bullets flew from the .22. The mutant’s head went red. Tate emptied his magazine, roaring in wordless rage.

The gun clicked empty.

Silence fell, punctuated only by the whine of insects. No more shots came from the Russians.

From the other side of the U-Haul came soft slurping sounds. The sound might have made Anton queasy if not for the fact that Russians were being eaten by their own monster.

Anton knelt on the ground to peer beneath the vehicles. “Only one mutant left,” Anton reports. “The Russians are all dead. We should split up. You go around the back. I’ll go around the front.”

Tate wordlessly grabbed his machine gun and took off. Anton headed in the opposite direction.

They attacked simultaneously, opening fire as they each came around the side of the U-Haul. The mutant was so busy eating Soviet brains, he was caught unaware. Anton and Tate took him out with head shots.

With the enemy down, Anton took a moment to gather himself. His gaze traveled across the field to the carcass of Thunder. The sight of the dead horse hurt. The fucking Russian invaders reaped destruction with every second they remained here on American soil.

Stealth was still alive. Anton spotted the horse standing in a prune orchard a quarter of a mile away from the fruit stand. They hadn’t lost everything in this battle with the Russians. Mostly everything, but not everything.

“These assholes got their heads cracked open. Their uniforms are in pretty good shape.” Tate toed one of the dead Soviets at the back of the U-Haul. “You’re a good friend. You should go back to the cabin.”

Anton shook his head. “You need someone to watch your back.”

“I’m probably going to die in Rossi,” Tate said flatly. “They’re probably taking Mom and Dad to be interrogated by the KGB. My best guess is that they’ll be held at the Rossi police station in one of the jail cells. The place will be crawling with Soviets.” Tate’s hands bunched into fists. “I’d rather die trying to rescue them than live another eighty years knowing I did nothing to help them. I have to do this. Even if it means I don’t come back.”

Anton searched for the right words. God, what he wouldn’t give to have Leo’s natural charisma.

“They’re going to want the Snipers’ location,” Anton said at last. That was the hardest truth to swallow: Mr. and Mrs. Craig would be used against them. “The best way for me to protect my family is to help get your parents out of the hands of the KGB.”

“You could die.”

At best, it will be a suicide mission.

At worst, you’ll get yourself captured.

He tuned out the memory of Leo’s words. “I could turn around now and get eaten by a mutant on the way home. We’re safer and stronger together.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you for life.” Tate heaved one of the dead mutants aside. “Come on. Let’s get changed.”

3

Into Rossi

After a short debate, Anton and Tate decided to leave Stealth behind and take a car. The horse was already tired from the hard ride from Pole Mountain. Asking him to carry two full-grown men all the way to Rossi would have been a tall order for a fresh horse.

Anton hoped the animal survived. He felt bad ditching him, but in truth it may have been the kinder thing to do. They were going into the hornet’s nest, after all.

Once they had changed into their Soviet disguises. They picked a plain white pick-up to take them to Rossi. The plan was simple: they’d stick to country roads and—hopefully—avoid all patrols. They’d ditch the truck when they were a few miles out of town and go the rest of the way on foot. Once they reached the city limits, they’d make their way to