August Burning (Book 3): Last Stand by Tyler Lahey Page B

He imagined them up there, somewhere in that greenery, butchering the foe five hundred feet above the valley floor.
    Maybe his brothers had taken care of the breach, and put it down with their usual efficiency. Maybe not, Liam conceded.
    As the hour stretched on, the others lost their attentiveness. Liam could see them slouching against the tiny walls on the roofs, their firearms out of hand. Not one maintained their gaze down the main street. The street had to be held, if the farmers and fishers were to make their long trek back to the Citadel’s brick walls.
    Liam squinted in the sun. There was motion ahead, below the trees at the settlement’s end. He whistled loud and high, and the others snapped out of their daydreams. They peered over the walls. Liam gripped the shotgun and looked down. His heart dropped. There were at least a dozen of the enemy, moving fast towards the church. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.
    He waited till the first target was fifty feet away, sprinting past the old ice cream store. The shotgun crashed back against his shoulder. The others on the rooftops yelled to hide their fear and started firing their semi-automatic squirrel rifles at the incoming infected. Their tiny bullets were absorbed by decaying, festering bodies.
    Liam saw his target crumple under the power of his slugs. Breathing deeply, he selected another as it tore through a low fence. He missed. Cursing, he tried again. His shot took the infected woman in the arm, but it kept going. Would the others take it down? He selected a new target, dodging in between several crashed cars. He fired. Miss.
    “Fuck,” he cursed again. His shots were too panicky. He closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself. But all he could focus on was the frantic rifle fire from his compatriots. Opening his eyes, he saw three infected pass below his steeple and break into the main part of town. His units were firing wildly, missing three in four shots. Another trio of infected passed below him, and Liam could see only three corpses on the hot asphalt.
    He adjusted the weapon, and took a woman’s head off at the neck. He set his jaw in triumph, pleased at the effect. Suddenly there were another dozen, streaking towards his position. Liam felt his shotgun slam back into his shoulder four more times, and they were still swarming beneath the church.
    Someone was screaming at him. It was Cassidy, standing atop the general store. She was waving her slender arms frantically.
    Liam bit his lip, and growled in resignation; he signaled her. Two seconds later, he watched a black and red flare soaring into the sky. They could not hold the town.
     
     
    The Citadel
     
     
    “There’s another one.”
    “Who’s it from? Can you tell?”
    There was a pause. “Looks like it could be Main Street. Bear Unit. Liam in command possibly.”
    The spotters watched the tiny flare ascend into the blue sky on a summer day. “That’s the fifth so far.”
    “What were they covering?”
    “All the food crews. They’re still not back.”
    “Where are they now?”
    “I’d guess Browning Way, that long straight stretch before the suburbs start. The open road. There’s not much forest there.”
    “Liam said we should tell Troy if they fired another.”
    “What the fuck is going on?” The spotters yanked their heads around at the familiar voice. Troy was hobbling towards them on his crutches; somehow he had scaled the latter, but the men were not surprised. Troy was a tough man.
    “Sir! Every sector has fired a flare of some sort at this point. They are all under assault. We do not know who is where, or what units are still holding.”
    Troy scratched his shaved head and growled. “You’re fucking useless then!” He leaned a bit too far to the side, and shrieked. Troy tumbled to the rooftop in pain, cursing his broken knee.
    “Sir!”
    “Are you alright!?”
    Troy did not move from the rooftop, and instead rolled over, so he was staring at the dusky sky