Dext of the Dead (Book 4): We Are The Extinction Read online

  She click-clacked her weapon to chamber a round and said, “Chavez. He sold us out.”

  That fucking snitch! He must’ve left after the fight and went to the NGC. As fucked up as that was, I still couldn’t see us winning this thing at that point—that is, until Nick came running into the alley alone. He shouted up to us, “Seth’s got the Caddy, and he’s coming down. We have to regroup and finish this shit.”

  He was barely through the sentence when Seth fish-tailed Caddy, now nearly trashed, into the side street across from D-Prime. It squeaked and scraped from its damage and came to a smoking halt. He popped out and ran across the strip to us in a half crouch. The silly bastard was smiling.

  He told us, “That’s one way to get the blood pumpin’! Any ideas?”

  Cutty called out from D-Prime, “Yeah, le’s get da fuck outta hurr. We got beat, nigga. It is what it is.”

  Nick snapped, “Fuck that! If we give up now, the South Strip is dead… along with Lilly, Don, and everyone else back there. The NGC will just squeeze down on us until there’s nothing left. We gotta do this or die trying. Think about your little girl.”

  Goddammit.

  Chalmers chimed in and said, “We need to think about this from a tactical standpoint. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and they got the drop on us. Retreat and regroup is the best option here. I don’t have a ton of combat experience, but I’ve always known a losing fight when I see one.”

  Boyd suggested, “How ab-b-bout a t-trap?”

  An evil smirk crept across Nick’s face, and he snapped his fingers, saying, “Yes! Fish in a barrel!”

  Kylee pressed her back to the wall and snuck to the corner of the strip. Slowly, she peeked around the corner and put her good eye to her scope to check out the situation. She called over her shoulder, “We got about five minutes. They’re clearing out the ones that turned. There’s bernies all over the streets. They’re executing them all, along with the injured.”

  Nick laid out his plan. We listened carefully to his suggestion, and after a few minor adjustments, we were ready to do this thing, for better or worse.

  Cutty stayed with D-Prime and kept the engine hot while Chalmers, Boyd, Kylee, and I kicked in the door to a shitty buffet restaurant and carefully cleared our way to the second floor. We smashed out the glass to the windows facing the street, and then we waited.

  Seth and Nick hopped back into the trashed Caddy and fired up the motor. It choked and sputtered a huge cloud of white smoke as they sped out of the side street and headed back to the NGC mess. We watched them from our elevated position as they broke out the windows of the car from within and spun a 180 in front of the NGC. They fired a shitload of rounds, dropping a few of them while screaming, “Come on, you pussies! You ain’t shit!”

  Seth floored it and came flying back down towards us with the entire NGC running and shooting at them in pursuit. As they flooded the streets below, passing Cutty and D-Prime, one of the NGC got lucky and hit the Caddy just right. The back tire blew out, sending Nick and Seth into a tailspin, eventually flipping the car onto its side. The air filled with more white smoke that clogged visibility on the street level.

  Cutty lurched the truck forward across the strip and blocked off the street, cutting off their escape and leaving the NGC army trapped between the wreckage of the Caddy and the trailer. He was smart enough to pull the cab of the truck just inside the cover of the buildings on the opposite side to shield himself from our fire. I managed to catch a glimpse of Seth and Nick scrambling through the broken windshield of the Caddy and taking cover to shoot behind the car as we unloaded from above.

  Our bullets rained down on the NGC like fire from the sky, dropping them one after another. It was a slaughter. Blood filled the streets, and the desperate members of the NGC scrambled for cover that just wasn’t there. Some of them began to crawl underneath the trailer to hide or make an escape, but Cutty took care of that easily enough.

  He bucked D-Prime into gear and backed over the would-be escapees, crushing them violently underneath the huge wheels. Screams turned into crunching gurgles as they lay dying beneath him.

  When the smoke cleared Seth, Nick, and Cutty began walking the carnage to finish what was left. Seth popped a few rounds from his handgun into the skulls of the newly turning dead as they rose to their feet, leaving Cutty and Nick to hack into the others with their blades. They handled the task with a cold normality.

  We filed into the street from our position inside the building to join them as the noise faded into a haunting silence. “Leave him,” Kylee snapped.

  Nick sheathed his blade and stepped back from the bloody mess that used to be Chavez. He lay there on the ground sputtering black blood from his mouth with no less than four holes in his abdomen.

  Kylee approached him with Chalmers by her side and came to a halt directly overtop him. Crouching beside him, Chalmers grabbed Chavez by his hair and lifted his head from the ground. “Look at what you did! Look at it!”

  Chavez lulled his head about, surveying the carnage, and told Chalmers with his dying breath, “I got the blood of a single street on my hands, but you got the entire world to be sorry for, Chalmers. See you in hell…”

  Chalmers’ face paled at the statement, and he fell to his knees, reflecting on it. He jumped sharply as Boyd’s pistol discharged and put an end to Chavez.

  In the quiet evening, the dimming sunlight cast a peaceful, orange hue upon everything. The coppery stink of coagulating blood filled my nose, and the low growl of a few straggling crawlers played in the air.

  We’ll sleep here tonight in the restaurant. Forget Nellis. Forget the radio. We’re returning to the South Strip in the morning with the bad news. The NGC may be extinct, but at what cost? The South Strip lost the majority of its security force today due to the cowardly actions of one man… if you want to call him that.

  And Gino’s gonna be pissed.

  About the Author:

  Steve Kuhn is a former professional musician turned writer. Raised in Baltimore, Maryland and with a deep seeded passion for horror, he brings a refreshingly raw and witty style to his work. He has been featured in countless online publications as a critical reviewer and has spent the last three years crafting the epic zombie series, Dext of the Dead.

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