Carlie Simmons (Book 3): The Way Back by JT Sawyer Page B

dropped two more
creatures when she moved up to his right, attacking a stout zombie clad in
greasy mechanic’s coveralls. Eliza grit her teeth and slammed the hefty blade
down on the cranium with all her might. The pulpy head split apart, spraying
fragments onto the bridge with a wet slap.
    The last creature had moved in fast and
was nearly upon her. She pivoted and sliced it across the neck, causing it to
totter momentarily. The milky eyes of the long-limbed beast zoomed in on her,
its mouth widening as a stream of black drool spilled out. Before it could
regain its momentum, she closed the distance and punched the blade in an
uppercut motion through the lower jaw. The lanky creature collapsed in a heap.
She stood looking at the lifeless thing, her adrenaline-induced tunnel vision
preventing her from seeing anything around her. She felt something grab her
right arm and turned with her blade ready only to see Willis stepping back with
his hands up.
    “Come on, we gotta go,” he said, nodding
over his shoulder to the cluster of buildings near Main Street. 
    She pulled herself away from the slumped
body, looking at the other nearly headless figures along the road and then down
at her dripping blade. She took a deep breath and then sprinted after Willis,
following on his heels.
    They darted in and out of derelict
vehicles to a large cluster of rosebushes near a daycare center.
    “I don’t get it, everything looks so
normal, except for all the bullet-riddled walls on most of the buildings. The
streets look good and there are numerous cars still parked in an orderly
fashion.”
    “The whole town looks like it was quickly
abandoned,” said Eliza. “I don’t see any evidence that people even tried to
hole up here.”
    “But something did happen here,”
Willis said, pointing to all of the spent brass on the streets and sidewalks in
every direction. “Looks like a small army traipsed through the place. Maybe
they wiped out most of the undead here as there are only a handful.”
    “Army is right,” said Eliza, pointing to
an olive-drab jeep with a flat tire parked near a bank. A white star adorned
the passenger’s side.
    “And we’ve only seen a few bodies that
looked like they were chomped on. The other towns had way more carnage than
this,” said Willis.
    Two tumbleweeds blew across the street and
lodged against a chain-link fence in front of the Chamber of Commerce. Eliza
could hear a door flapping against its wooden frame and saw the entrance to the
daycare center was open.
    “That might be a place that has some
supplies. It’s worth checking out. Looks like the only building in town without
any bullet holes in the walls.”
    Eliza scanned the streets around the
one-story structure and searched for escape routes and areas that would provide
cover as Willis had taught her. She looked at him also studying the layout and
then he nodded at her in approval.
    “I’ll go first and sweep the front
entrance while you watch our six as we move in tandem,” said Willis.
    A few minutes later, both of them were
moving silently through the lobby and into the main hallway, performing smooth,
two-man entry techniques. Rows of finger-painted murals hung on the walls to
the right while rows of knee-high cubbies lined the left side. With each room
they cleared, they found no evidence of any struggle and an absence of zombies.
    “Damn strange,” Willis whispered as they
moved in unison to the kitchen area at the rear of the hall.
    He pushed open the swinging door of the
kitchen and swiftly entered, sweeping his rifle along either side. This room
was also clear of any signs of struggle. Clean coffee cups were still hanging
on their j-hooks from the cupboard and a neatly folded pile of towels was stacked
along the edge of the stainless-steel sink. Eliza saw Willis look back with his
eyebrows scrunched together.
    She walked up to the cabinets and opened
them. Most were empty but the last two on the far right had a box of