Free The Dead Series (Book 4): Dead End by Jon Schafer

what’s the plan , sir?” the Staff Sergeant asked.
    “ The platform is trashed, so we won’t be leaving anyone here to man it, but we still need to clear the dead out and retrieve whatever equipment we can,” Cage answered. “Both the people up here had noise suppressors, night vision gear and a shitload of ammo. We’re going to need those things.”
    This wasn’t the reply that Jimmy wanted to hear. He’d only gone on this mission because he wanted to scope out the area for when he made a break for it, not get into some kind of half-assed firefight with a bunch of Zs. He knew that when he eventually went AWOL, he’d have to go on foot, so he’d volunteered when he heard Fagan talking about losing contact with the OP. Going on this relief mission may be the perfect way to plan his route. Looking at a map of the area, he had decided that when he left, he would cut across Nebo before heading south to Louisiana, where he hoped to reunite with what was left of his family. He’d been pleased so far from what he’d seen. The area was pretty clear because most of the dead seemed to congregate around the camp. Once he made his break, it would only be a matter of days if he could find a vehicle, or weeks if he had to go on foot, until he was home.
    Daydreaming about the joyous reunion he would have with his brothers and sisters, Fagan interrupted his thoughts by telling him, “ McPherson, go back to the squad and tell them to hold in place, and then I want you to come back here. We’re going to need your rifle when we do this.”
    Jimmy nodded and went to do as he was ordered. When he returned, he found that both men had already secured noise suppressors to the barrels of their rifles. Crouching down next to them, he pulled his out of his pack and fumbled it for second. Regaining his grip, he started to attach it but couldn’t seem to get it to slide onto the barrel of his M16.
    After a few moments of trying, he heard Fagan say in an amused voice, “Nine out of ten rhesus test monkeys can attach a noise suppressor to their rifle on the first try.”
    Jimmy heard Major Cage give a quiet laugh at this.
    His face turning red, Jimmy said softly, “Screw you, Sarge,” to which both Cage and Fagan laughed.
    Finally getting squared away, he sat on his haunches and listened to the Major lay out their plan of attack.
    “We keep it simple,” Cage said in a whisper. “ Our closest targets are only fifteen to twenty feet away from the edge of the clearing, so we’ll take them out first. We’ll form up abreast in the tree line and start with the nearest ones that are facing away from us. I want to get as many as we can before they know we’re here. These things are brain dead, but I’ve seen how they act when they realize they’re under attack. They’ll turn as a group and rush us, and I don’t want all of them coming at us at once. I really don’t feel like running all the way back to the pickup point with a bunch of Zs on my ass. Are we clear?”
    Both men nodded, so Cage said, “Follow me.”
    As they moved into position, Jimmy got his first good look at the carnage the dead had wrought on the observation post. He knew from the stories he’d heard that it was an eight foot square covered platform standing twelve feet off the ground, but to look at what was left, he never would have known it.
    Splintered six-by-six posts jutted up from the ground, broken off by some unimaginable force. The platform itself was nothing but mangled triangles of broken plywood scattered across the small clearing where it had been erected, and like Major Cage had said, of its two occupants, there was nothing but large smears of blood and small pieces of gore in two spots. A tarp was draped across some brush, torn and tattered from being dragged there by countless feet.
    Shuddering slightly at the destruction, Jimmy moved behind the tree Fagan pointed him to and raised his rifle as he focused on the dead that swarmed the area. They