The Zone: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Infection Chronicles Book 1) by Tripp Ellis Page B
Authors: Tripp Ellis
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screaming and crying, pushing and shoving. The thug shoved Xavier away and drew his side arm. He brought the gun to Xavier's head. Just as the thug was about to squeeze the trigger, Steele fired.
CRACK!
The bullet zipped through the air, echoing off the nearby houses. The thug’s head burst open, spewing blood. His body smacked the ground.
The gunner swung the .50 caliber toward Steele. But the major already had the gunner lined up in his sights.
CRACK!
Steele fired again.
SPLAT!
The gunner’s head exploded, spraying a cloud of blood. His body slumped in the turret. His head looked like a rotten tomato that someone had stepped on.
The APC swung around and rambled toward them. Another man inside the APC pulled the gunner’s body out of the way and took his position in the turret.
Xavier and his family scattered away to safety. The APC roared, and the new gunner took aim at Steele.
The .50 caliber machine gun entered service in 1921. There was a reason it was still in service today. It was a multi use weapon and packed a helluva punch. There was even a version made specifically for snipers. Micro processors in the rounds would allow adjustments in mid-flight trajectory. Kyle Meeks held the current world record for longest-range confirmed kill. 2956 meters, during Operation Eagle Fury in 2029. The .50 caliber was fast, reliable, and accurate. One well placed round could easily rip a man in two.
Soon, several hundred rounds would be heading straight at Steele. Each one racing at nearly 3000 feet per second.
CHAPTER 12
THE MACHINE GUN blasted off rounds exploding at Steele’s feet as he dashed back into the passenger seat. Delroy mashed the pedal, and the SUV squealed around the corner.
A flurry of shell casings pinged against the concrete. The APC gunner kept firing at the SUV. Bullets smacked into the tempered glass and body panels.
The bullets should have blasted through the windows and pierced the sheet metal, but they didn’t. Parker gazed at the window, webbed with cracks. A slug was lodged in the glass at eye level. It should have split open her head.
“Bulletproof glass,” Parker mumbled to herself. “I guess Ferris was on the paranoid side?”
“CEOs get kidnapped all the time. Makes sense he’d have secure vehicles,” Steele said.
The SUV was lurching along, pulling to the left. Something was wrong.
“Well, he didn’t get bulletproof tires,” Delroy said.
The rear tire was shredded and ripped completely from the rim. Despite the run-flat inserts, a shower of sparks sprayed into the air as the bare rim ground against the concrete. On a good day, the inserts provided the rims with a half inch of clearance without a tire. Today, the extra weight of the back end compressed the rubber inserts.
“Keep moving,” Steele said.
Steele glanced through the rear window. He could see the APC lumber around the corner, coming after them.
Ahead, the commotion had roused the lurkers. Several were staggering into the streets. Delroy weaved around them at first. Soon there were too many, and Delroy was plowing over them. Infected splattered against the windshield like bugs. It wasn’t long before bloody sludge coated the windshield. The stiffs growled and clawed at the SUV as it barreled through. Delroy flipped on the wiper blades. But it only smeared the bloody sludge, decreasing visibility even further.
The APC trudged after them. Bullets whizzed by, smacking at the back glass. The ballistic glass cracked and webbed around the slug, but still held together. But the SUV wasn’t going to hold up for long. It wasn’t made to survive this kind of assault.
Delroy mashed the pedal, putting some distance between themselves and the APC.
BAM!
The right rear tire exploded, fraying from the rim. The SUV teetered and slid. Delroy regained control and kept plowing forward. Both rims were spewing sparks. All traction was gone from the rear wheels. Delroy swung a left at the
CRACK!
The bullet zipped through the air, echoing off the nearby houses. The thug’s head burst open, spewing blood. His body smacked the ground.
The gunner swung the .50 caliber toward Steele. But the major already had the gunner lined up in his sights.
CRACK!
Steele fired again.
SPLAT!
The gunner’s head exploded, spraying a cloud of blood. His body slumped in the turret. His head looked like a rotten tomato that someone had stepped on.
The APC swung around and rambled toward them. Another man inside the APC pulled the gunner’s body out of the way and took his position in the turret.
Xavier and his family scattered away to safety. The APC roared, and the new gunner took aim at Steele.
The .50 caliber machine gun entered service in 1921. There was a reason it was still in service today. It was a multi use weapon and packed a helluva punch. There was even a version made specifically for snipers. Micro processors in the rounds would allow adjustments in mid-flight trajectory. Kyle Meeks held the current world record for longest-range confirmed kill. 2956 meters, during Operation Eagle Fury in 2029. The .50 caliber was fast, reliable, and accurate. One well placed round could easily rip a man in two.
Soon, several hundred rounds would be heading straight at Steele. Each one racing at nearly 3000 feet per second.
CHAPTER 12
THE MACHINE GUN blasted off rounds exploding at Steele’s feet as he dashed back into the passenger seat. Delroy mashed the pedal, and the SUV squealed around the corner.
A flurry of shell casings pinged against the concrete. The APC gunner kept firing at the SUV. Bullets smacked into the tempered glass and body panels.
The bullets should have blasted through the windows and pierced the sheet metal, but they didn’t. Parker gazed at the window, webbed with cracks. A slug was lodged in the glass at eye level. It should have split open her head.
“Bulletproof glass,” Parker mumbled to herself. “I guess Ferris was on the paranoid side?”
“CEOs get kidnapped all the time. Makes sense he’d have secure vehicles,” Steele said.
The SUV was lurching along, pulling to the left. Something was wrong.
“Well, he didn’t get bulletproof tires,” Delroy said.
The rear tire was shredded and ripped completely from the rim. Despite the run-flat inserts, a shower of sparks sprayed into the air as the bare rim ground against the concrete. On a good day, the inserts provided the rims with a half inch of clearance without a tire. Today, the extra weight of the back end compressed the rubber inserts.
“Keep moving,” Steele said.
Steele glanced through the rear window. He could see the APC lumber around the corner, coming after them.
Ahead, the commotion had roused the lurkers. Several were staggering into the streets. Delroy weaved around them at first. Soon there were too many, and Delroy was plowing over them. Infected splattered against the windshield like bugs. It wasn’t long before bloody sludge coated the windshield. The stiffs growled and clawed at the SUV as it barreled through. Delroy flipped on the wiper blades. But it only smeared the bloody sludge, decreasing visibility even further.
The APC trudged after them. Bullets whizzed by, smacking at the back glass. The ballistic glass cracked and webbed around the slug, but still held together. But the SUV wasn’t going to hold up for long. It wasn’t made to survive this kind of assault.
Delroy mashed the pedal, putting some distance between themselves and the APC.
BAM!
The right rear tire exploded, fraying from the rim. The SUV teetered and slid. Delroy regained control and kept plowing forward. Both rims were spewing sparks. All traction was gone from the rear wheels. Delroy swung a left at the
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