The Dying of the Light (Book 3): Beginning Read Online Free Page B

only the first ship to set sail, headed for London. He just hoped there’d be something to show for all this in the end and not too many of his people lost along the way.
    “Godspeed, men,” he whispered.

     
    Lacey, Washington
     
    The air was cool and crisp. It was fine fall weather for this small town that had once been just sleepy but was now silent and still. Death had claimed Lacey, and nothing stirred in its streets and homes. It would be a near-perfect location for Bunker One’s Expeditionary Force to reclaim for its people.
    Once they’d cleared the remaining walkers, of course.
    The Blackhawk helicopter came in low and whisper quiet over the rooftops. Its matte-black fuselage reflected little of the midday sun as it slowed to hover over a squat two-story office building just off the freeway. With a few shots from the soldiers hanging out of the open helo doors, the streets below were clear.
    The helo disgorged six soldiers in black fatigues and body armor as they fast-roped to the building’s roof. Each man assumed guard positions until the entire team was down. The crew chief looked out the open door of the helo and returned the thumbs-up from the ground team leader. With that, the Blackhawk moved off to take up a support position nearby.
    “Echo Six to Nest,” Captain Jake Powell said. “On site and beginning sweep.”
    “Acknowledged, Echo Six.”
    Powell flashed a quick “go” signal, and the team split into several groups, with the first approaching the rooftop access door. Standing to one side, the soldier waited for the signal from his partner, who had taken up a defensive position, shotgun at the ready. The door was flung open on an empty staircase, and under cover of the shotgun, the first man moved forward. He rigged a claymore mine a few steps down from the top, positioning a small motion sensor several steps below that.
    At the top of the fire escape, the other group had just finished their own clearing operation. The soldiers returned to the middle of the roof, once more assuming guard positions.
    “All clear, sir,” one of the men said. “Ready to proceed.” He turned to the captain, who stood nearby scanning a map of the local area.
    “Good,” Powell said. “Take positions for overwatch.” He raised his own binocs and took position as one of the spotters. His eyes weren’t as young as they used to be, but with the help of some laser treatments, he could see as well as any younger man. The others had taken up positions in two-man spotter-sniper pairs around the edge of the roof.
    “Echo Six to Nest. Ready to begin cleanup.”
    “Roger, Echo Six. Cleanup authorized. You may proceed.”
    Grabbing a small metallic disk from his pocket, the captain turned to his men. “Ready for screamers.” Each member of the team inserted the earplugs they had prepared. With a thumbs-up from all five, the captain gave a quick twist to the bottom of the disk and threw it over the side of the building.
    The ear-splitting noise generated by the disk as it hit the ground was almost overwhelming, even four floors above the street. The men all winced, covering their ears with their gloved hands until several minutes had gone by and the screamer had stopped. Shaking his head, the captain turned from the street back to his team.
    “Recover! Spotters report walkers on sight.” As one man, they answered “Sir!”
    Screamers acted as zombie attractors. Drawn by the noise, the walkers would move straight toward the device. This allowed prepared teams of soldiers to set up a “kill box.” It didn’t take long for the soldiers to pick out the moans from the walkers in the nearby streets. It was only a few moments longer before the captain heard a spotter call out, “Target, ten o’clock.” A loud crack, and the spotter reported, “Target down.”

     
    An hour later, Jake and his sniper had run out of targets on their side of the building. They’d put down forty-seven so far, just the two of them.