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

Maybe their next Sniper mission would be a strike on Rossi.

Thinking this made Anton feel slightly better about running away from the cabin. If they could deliver a blow with their homemade alcohol bombs, gather valuable intel on the invaders, and rescue the Craigs, no one could berate them when they returned home.

He imagined Leo slapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him for a job well done. Hell, maybe he’d join Leo in leading the Snipers. A team captain always needed a second in command, right?

It took them nearly two hours to thread their way through the city. The Russians had been busy. Other than a few stray dead here and there, the streets were clear of bodies. They saw a few mutants roaming the streets, all of which they avoided. They also had to dodge a few patrol cars and foot patrols.

They finally reached the downtown area near the junior college. This was the same area where Dal had worked his nighttime janitorial job at the radio station. It was where Lena had come for the anti-nuke rallies.

It was where his father had been killed.

As a general rule of thumb, Anton tried not to think about his dad. It felt like poking an open wound with a fork. Anton avoided it most of the time, but as Tate led them through downtown Rossi, he found his thoughts continuously straying to his father.

What had his final moments been like? Had his death been quick? What would have happened if he’d never left the farm that day? Would he still be alive? Would Lena and Dal have made it home without his sacrifice?

The sound of car engines reached his ears. He and Tate crouched in the shadow of an alleyway beside a dumpster. A minute later, three open-topped jeeps rumbled past. They were packed with armed Russians.

This was perhaps the first time they had seen vehicles clumped together. What did that mean?

“We’re close to their home base,” Tate murmured after the jeeps had passed.

“Maybe that’s why there’s so many of them together,” Anton replied.

They waited, crouched beside the dumpster. Anton followed the sound of the vehicles with his ears. They were so clear, he could tell when they stopped and switched off their engines. He even heard the distant voices of the soldiers. They weren’t far away, and based on the sound of things, they were near the jail.

“We were right.” Tate’s face was set. “They have a base near the jail.”

“Come on. We have to keep moving.” As Anton rose, voices reached his ears.

Two soldiers appeared in the mouth of the alley.

There was no place to hide. Anton had just enough time to drive a sneaker into Tate’s stomach as the soldiers raised their voices, calling in his direction.

5

Trap Run

Fear made it difficult to breathe. Anton wished for the hundredth time that he’d spent time with their mother’s Russian language tapes. Who would have thought his sister was onto something with her weird obsession? It didn’t seem weird at all now, though a mere two weeks ago he’d made fun of her for it.

Not knowing what else to do, Anton unzipped his fly. He waved a vague hand at the two Soviets, pretending to be engrossed in his task.

In truth, it was nearly impossible to pee when all he wanted to do was bolt. But if he didn’t actually piss, the Soviets might get suspicious. Sweat broke out along his neck and face as he threw all his attention at his dick.

He was so intent on his mission that he ended up pissing all over Tate’s left shoe. His friend scrunched up as Anton readjusted his aim.

The Russians called to him a second time. Apparently, they didn’t believe in giving a guy privacy when he was taking a piss.

Anton ignored them, hoping he looked engrossed in his task. Every nerve in his body stood on end. If they insisted on speaking to him, they were fucked.

His eyes shifted to the machine gun that hung around his neck. If he made a distraction, maybe Tate could get away.

Without warning, the Russians laughed and sauntered off. Anton stayed where he was, every muscle primed to fight. He zipped up his fly, half expecting the silhouettes of the Soviets to return to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Are they gone?” Tate whispered.

“Yeah. I think so. That was close.” Fucking understatement of the year. Anton’s sense of dread rapidly grew to monstrous proportions. He did not have a good feeling about any of this.

“Let’s get a bird’s eye view.” Tate scrambled to his feet, heading for a fire escape ladder Anton hadn’t noticed.

Even though it was a good eight feet off the ground, it was within reach for the tall boys. With a running head start, they jumped and grabbed the lowest rung. Minutes later, the two of them crouched on the rooftop of the two-story downtown building.

They crept to the edge of the roof and peered out over the city. Anton saw the big antennas from Dal’s radio station and the tall brick buildings of the junior college.

The police station and county jail were no more than half a mile west of them.

A mere two blocks from where they were hiding, chain-link construction site fencing had been erected. It stretched for blocks. Big portable lights had been set up, which blared up into the night. Based on the lights, they could see the zone took up twenty city blocks. They’d nearly blundered right into the heart of the Soviet occupation zone.

It was a good location. They had the police station with the weapons, communication systems, and jail cells. The surrounding downtown buildings had plenty of housing for the soldiers—especially now that the locals had been zombified and cleared out.

The police station was near the center of the compound, which meant they had to get past a whole pile of Russians just to get to the jail. After that, they had to break into the jail, break the Craigs out of jail,