Free Land of the Dead (Book 1): Infected by Cian Campbell Page B

move or loot or raid their neighbor. Gunfire was sporadic, as was the sound of breaking glass. Then, after a bit, it seemed like everyone had either accomplished their nightly goal or stopped trying. Ever patient, Dillon radioed for Rick and Talbot to quietly open the gate and then asked Lauren to slowly drive, lights off, onto the street.
    Dillon was in the front passenger seat. Marty and Donnie were in positions to open the left and right rear doors and exit quickly. They both had MP-5s with homemade silencers, but neither had loaded them yet, though they carried several magazines of ammunition on their persons. That was Dillon’s way of preventing accidental discharge of the weapons inside the vehicle. The drive was….immediately challenging.
    “What’s that up ahead?” asked Dillon. He immediately felt the Suburban begin to accelerate, and his foot felt for the imaginary brake pedal as Lauren plowed through an impromptu barricade that some locals had hastily assembled. She didn’t flinch, and she didn’t change course when the locals threw rocks and even fired a few homemade shotguns at the vehicle.
    Dillon decided then and there that it was time for him to immediately reassess Lauren James.
    The rest of the trip went smoothly enough. There were a few bumps along the way, literally. When a small group of infected was attracted by the noise of the Suburban, as happened more than once, Lauren would grit her teeth and drive right through (or over) the group. It didn’t matter if it was a large or small group. It didn’t matter if it was men or women or children. She just drove. They made it to USAID in record time.
    “Load up.”
    Dillon heard Marty and Donnie load up. It didn’t sound crisp and professional, but it sounded like it had been done right.
    “Hop out and secure the perimeter. You both watch the street while I get the gate open”
    Dillon watched as the two men did their job fairly well. Granted, there weren’t any targets, but they were conducting themselves well. Dillon quickly moved to the USAID gate and found it had been locked, against all regulation, with chains and padlocks.
    “Shit….”
    Dillon briefly wished he had bolt cutters. Shooting locks didn’t work like it did in the movies. Most of the time, it just jammed the lock in whatever position it was when you shot it. That usually meant jamming it in the locked position, which was less than helpful. Dillon looked at the front windshield of the Suburban and shrugged in confusion.
    “Let me ram it.” Lauren said.
    “That would be a very bad idea, Lauren. Chances are it will make a huge amount of noise and damage our vehicle.”
    “So what? All we have to do is get another Suburban. There are extras here.”
    Damn. She was smart.
    “It’s still too loud.” offered Donnie. “I suggest we use the jack to break the chain.”
    Dillon was quickly reevaluating all of the Foreign Service Officers. They were smart, motivated, surprisingly cool under pressure, and most importantly resilient.
    “That’s a good idea.”
    It took about ten minutes to set up the jack against the gate and expand it until it snapped a link in the chain. It was reasonably quiet, and after that it was a simple matter of pushing the gate open. After entering the compound, they swung the door closed and Dillon assigned Marty to guard the gate.
    “Why are we wasting Marty on that?”
    Dillon tried to remember who the fuck this person was that was questioning him….Bob something….
    “Bob, we need to be able to stop someone from opening the gate.”
    “No, we don’t. We need to know if someone tries to do it so you can react. Why don’t you just park Lauren here in the SUV. If she sees someone trying to open the gate, she’ll honk the horn from the safety of the vehicle.”
    It would have been a decent idea, IF Bob hadn’t presented it with a challenging sneer in the middle of the operation.
    “Bob, I want you to go with Donnie and get the keys to all of the