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

him. Blood gushed from the wound, pooling on the leaves beneath the body.

Amanda gaped. Had she really hit him that hard? That was a human skull, for crying out loud.

She got a good look at the branch in her hand. It was a solid three inches in diameter. A girl smaller than her wouldn’t have even been able to get a proper grip on it.

It sank in. She had killed a Soviet demon with a tree branch. She, Amanda Nielson, had delivered a blow powerful enough to smash in the side of his head. Granted, she’d gotten lucky with the blow; the temple was the weakest part of the human skull. But still, what she had done was not normal.

Her brain buzzed from a sudden adrenaline crash. Her ears rang. All she could think was that she should have played softball in high school.

Her hands began to shake. She clung to the broken tree branch like a lifeline as she took in the dead Russian.

The ringing in her ears subsided. She became aware of voices. There were people coming her way.

“Amanda! Amanda, where are you?”

Dal and Lena burst down the slope, running hard in her direction.

“Amanda!” Lena threw her arms around her, crushing her in a hug. Dal joined her, the three of them standing in a tight cluster.

Amanda dropped her stick and burst into tears, holding onto her friends as though her life depended on it. Her entire body ached from the fall through the tree. She couldn’t believe she was still alive. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t broken anything.

“Nice work.” Lena dried her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Damn, did you do that?” Dal knelt down to inspect the crushed skull of the Russian. “Or did he hit himself on the way down?”

“I hit him.” Amanda gestured to the branch at her feet.

Dal’s eyebrows nearly climbed off his forehead. “Damn. Imagine what you could do if you started bench pressing.”

Amanda decided she was going to start doing just that. And if there wasn’t a bench press at the Cecchino cabin—which there wasn’t—she would do something else. Push-ups, maybe. She’d figure it out as soon as they got home. Maybe she’d get Stephenson to start working out with her.

“There’s something weird about these guys.” Dal nudged the dead Russian with his foot.

Amanda nodded. “They moved fast. Really fast. I think these gray patches might be zombie rot. And their eyes were all red. And—and I think this guy may have been drinking blood.”

“Same with the ones who attacked us,” Lena said. “If you hadn’t warned us they were coming, they may have gotten the drop on us.”

“They’re all dead, right?” Amanda needed to hear them say it.

“We got them.” Lena squeezed her elbow. “The bastards are all dead.”

They headed to the nearest of the ATVs. Behind it were the two bodies that had been dragged out of sight.

Something had been done to the soldiers. Dal had hit only one of them in the head, but both of the skulls had been cracked open. It didn’t take a genius to know parts of the brains had been eaten.

Lena turned to the side, gagging.

Amanda stared, both horrified and fascinated. The sight of half-eaten brains didn’t bother her at all.

The pieces clicked together in her mind. The Russian’s bloody mouth and beard. His red eyes. The freaky way he had moved.

“It’s a new type of zombie,” she whispered. “A super soldier.”

“A what?” Lean leaned against the side of the ATV, refusing to look at the bodies.

“A new type of zombie. Look.” Amanda pointed. “Those soldiers that ambushed us ate the brains of their friends. They moved fast, too. Super fast. And they were strong.”

“But they weren’t like the other zombies,” Dal said. “They, you know, had an agenda.”

“Sentient.” The word tasted bitter in Amanda’s mouth. When Dal and Lena looked at her in confusion, she clarified. “They’re smart. Not like regular zombies or mutants. But they eat brains, so they’re definitely a type of zombie. That guy back there”—she jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the one she had killed—“spoke to us before he attacked. In English.”

The enormity of this hit them. Amanda put a hand on the ATV to steady herself. She, Dal, and Lena stared at one another.

“Super soldiers.” Never in her life had Amanda been so distressed over being right.

“These guys are hybrid zombie super soldiers."

“How?” Lena said. “How is that possible?”

“Does it matter?” Dal said. “If there are more like these guys, we’re fucked. Big time.” He scrunched a hand in his hair. “We have to get the word out. People have to know what’s coming.”

26

Home

The ATV hummed below her as Amanda navigated up the steep slope of Pole Mountain. Strapped on the back were all the weapons they’d scavenged from the dead invaders. She’d even taken a tissue sample from a dead Russian super zombie. Too bad she had to mix it in the baggie with the other tissue sample, but it was the better than nothing.

Dal and Lena were on either side of her, each of them on their own ATV. They had decided to take three of them; no telling when the nimble vehicles might come in handy.

It was night. The beam of the ATVs cut through the darkness, lighting the way up Pole Mountain. It was the middle of the night.

They would have been home sooner if they hadn’t come across a mobile trailer in the pastureland. It had been packed with supplies and completely deserted. After gorging themselves on canned baked beans, Oreo cookies, and bottled water, they’d scavenged the extra food and supplies they found. The ATVs were packed.

Amanda could almost taste home. She couldn’t wait to take a shower. A short one and likely a cold one—Nonna didn’t like wasting propane to heat the water—but any shower would be welcome no matter the temperature.

They rounded a bend, drove up a rise, and at long last the Cecchino cabin came into view.

All the windows were dark. The