“Major Ramsay,” Hall came over the radio, “we’re detecting that you altered course.”
“Yeah.” Jack responded quietly, though he continued moving.
“Why?”
“There were a large number of infected coming out of a subway. Didn’t want to risk a firefight, so I diverted the team.”
“Understood.” She responded. “Be advised, we’ve not been able to re-establish contact with the hospital.”
“Power’s out around here, so that’s not a big surprise.” Tyrone interjected.
“Hospital’s have emergency generators, but depending on when the power went out in this area of the grid, they may have run out of their own juice.” Bridges added.
“Whatever’s happening, we’re back on track for the moment and should be arriving on the scene in less than five minutes.” Jack reported. “Out.” He concluded as his boot connected with the sidewalk on the other side of the road. The car park was mostly deserted, except for a few lone vehicles that suggested the owners hadn’t reached them in time or had chosen some other method for potential escape. Given how packed the roads seemed, avoiding using a vehicle seemed like a smarter choice in retrospect to Jack. A few infected had peeled off from the small group he’d seen and were following them, but as far as he could see there were none ahead. Distantly, Jack heard gunshots that ended as suddenly as they began, making him wonder whether that was a good or bad thing for the person who had fired their weapon.
The fronts of several shops came into view, packed together and thankfully, to Jack’s mind, with no avenue in-between. There were a couple of fast food restaurants, a furniture store, an electronics store and a few others he couldn’t make out. Much like the other buildings he’d come across, a number of them had broken windows. Perhaps, Jack considered, not all of them had been attacked by the infected; looting was just as viable an alternative, he considered, either before the infection reached Dewbury or during the initial days when supplies were at risk of becoming scarce. Regardless of when and how it happened, the result was there was glass everywhere and though there was no evidence of infected within the structures, Jack kept to the left of the sidewalk along the length of buildings until they reached the corner where, after checking the way ahead, they closed up and rounded it, hugging the wall until they reached the next corner; the sound of the car alarm getting closer and louder with every step they took. At the corner, Jack peeked around and took a deep breath.
Across from them, on the other side of another car park, Jack could see the primary building of the hospital. It was seven stories high, with large glass windows adorning the facade from the second floor up; metal strips separating and securing the glass. The entrance to the ground floor on that side, what little Jack could see of it, was windowless and obstructed by masses of shuffling, shifting and aggravated infected. Closer to the source, Jack could now determine with some certainty that the car alarm was coming from the hospital. It was pure speculation, but he believed it was because a vehicle had broken through the front doors, whereupon its alarm had gone off and it was riling the infected up into the feeding frenzy - that and some sense that there were victims to be had inside the hospital. Glancing down the street to the right, Jack could see a large apartment building overlooking the hospital, with a number of smaller buildings around it. To the left, the road leading off the divided highway curved to run along the back of the hospital, giving access to the rear of the facility. He couldn’t see the area clearly as there were trees in the way, but he was pretty sure there were a number of infected there too.
“Hall, come in.” Jack said softly.
“Go for Hall.” The woman responded a moment later.
“Any recent sweeps of this area?”
“A drone went overhead about fifteen minutes ago; no sign of anyone alive on the buildings outside of the hospital, and looking through the windows it seemed clear.”
“How many inside the hospital?”
“According to what Doctor Reed told us, there were thirty people as of the time they were on the second floor, though that number may have dwindled somewhat.”
“Is there anything to indicate there are any Bolvinox personnel on site?”
“Not as of the last scan.”
“Understood.” Jack said. “Rear entrance is still the best point of entry?”
“As of the last flyby.” Hall confirmed.
“Copy. Out.” Jack concluded as he glanced back to Tyrone and gestured for the group to come forward.
“What’s the plan?” Cross questioned.
“Rodriguez, Cross, get up on top of that building and give us some overwatch. I know there’s poor visibility on our insertion point, but you can report on the movement of that horde.”
“Understood.” Cross answered.
“Yes, sir.” Rodriguez responded, speaking for the first time since Jack met him. They pulled away and went in search of a method of ascending to the rooftop.
“The rest of us are going to advance towards the rear entrance. We’re going to go slow and do our best to attract as little attention as possible. If it looks like we’re going to draw the horde we’ll double back and come up with another plan.”
“I think they’re going to be pretty much focused on that car horn.” Tyrone interposed.
“Yeah, dumb bastards are easy to distract like that.” Bridges affirmed.
“Let’s hope so. The main issue we face is that the infected control the first and second floors of the hospital; our target is located on the third floor somewhere and, judging by what she said, the stairwells have been secured, so we need to hope they’re looking out for us and let us in when we reach it, otherwise we’ll need to breach and that will bring the infected right to us.”
“No matter how careful we are, we’re going to have an entourage while we make our way up anyway.” Smith added.
“You’re such a downer, Smith.” Bridges chided. “It’s target practice.”
“Did you bring enough ammo to kill them all, Bridges? I sure as hell didn’t!” She hissed back.
“Quiet!” Jack snapped aggressively, making them shrink back a little. “Get your heads on straight! We’re moving out. Don’t fire unless I give the order; we’re going in quietly, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” They returned in unison.
“Cross, Rodriguez, are you in position yet?”
“Getting up there now; fifteen seconds or so.” Cross answered.
Jack waited a little longer, peeking again at the horde to ensure there were no individuals breaking off to advance in their direction.
“In position.” Rodriguez announced a short time after.
“Man, it looks worse from up here.” Cross added.
“Let us know if they move off or if you see any indication of hostile human personnel.” Jack instructed before glancing at the remaining team members. “Ready to move?”
They nodded their affirmation.
“Let’s do this, Jack.” Tyrone announced. With another deep breath, Jack turned and headed out.
Jack kept his weapon raised and ready to fire, his finger just above the trigger to prevent any kind of accidental shots at a surprise, non-hostile target. He stayed as far to the left as possible, as that avenue of travel seemed to be clear of threats - at least up to a bank of three trees in the car park. The huge horde on the right were jostling about, sometimes seeming to move inwards, at others ebbing back out as though they weren’t all in agreement as to whether to attempt to move in or out of the hospital. He could only imagine that it was a blockage caused by a significant group of them staying by the car, which consequently prevented those who could sense their prey within from entering. He imagined there was still a whole host of them inside, but anything which helped to reduce the number they had to face was a good thing as far as Jack was concerned. As the rear of the hospital came into clear view, he could see that there were just a couple more than a half dozen there; almost certainly the majority had gone ar
ound the side to investigate the noise. Why these in particular had decided to stay was curious; perhaps, in life, they had been hard of hearing and were hunting based on their other senses in their undead state. The why, ultimately, was unimportant, Jack realized.
Reaching a tree, the team hunkered down for a moment and quickly surveyed the horde off to the side.
“You’re in the clear.” Cross reported. “Doesn’t seem like they noticed you.”
“Good.” Jack responded. As the bulk of the infected at the front entrance hadn’t shifted to engage them, and given that the few in the rear didn’t seem to be mobile, Jack let his assault rifle hang and drew his combat knife. Tyrone did the same; Bridges started to but Jack shook his head.
“Hold this position. If we need support to fall back, you two are it.” Jack instructed. Neither Bridges nor Smith responded verbally, simply nodding their agreement. Jack looked at Tyrone, and the two men nodded their readiness to act.
Jack broke cover first, hurrying with a slight hunch to his movement to lower his profile. Tyrone was branching off a little further to the left to intercept an infected there while Jack moved up on the closest. The infected - a male figure in a suit clearly missing its left arm below the elbow - stumbled and began to turn around just as Jack reached it; he plunged his knife violently through the back of its skull while wrapping his arm around its lower chest. He twisted the blade a little before yanking it free; there was minimal spatter as its blood was seemingly congealed, and Jack was able to easily set the corpse down. It had gone completely limp, as though it hadn’t been walking around unnaturally just a few moments earlier. Glancing to Tyrone, Jack saw him dispatch his target and set it down just as carefully as Jack had done. They moved forward quickly, taking out the next pair of infected before they could react. As Jack’s target’s death rattle passed between its lips, he saw the infected ahead start to shuffle around, its legs so stiff it took several jerky, awkward movements to complete its rotation. Something flared in its glazed over eyes and it reached out one arm, beginning a laborious effort to move towards Jack with a hungry, excited snapping of its jaws.
Jack wiped his knife off on the corpse of the infected he’d just killed and allowed the short, stocky male figure to finish its approach. As it came within reach he snatched it by the neck, hoping to get a sense of the strength of an individual infected. It reached out for him, trying to secure a good grip on his armor but unable to do so with its fingers, which had been severely damaged, appearing bloody and broken. It attempted to move forward, but Jack was able to keep it firmly at arm’s length without over exerting himself. It made no move to extricate itself from his grasp, but snapped its jaws threateningly at him and when that failed, hissed in an aggressive way as if hoping its prey would surrender and allow it to sate its hunger. Clearly becoming more frustrated and agitated, it attempted to close the distance by bulldozing its way forward, but even in life it would have been unable to do so, and in its death state it didn’t appear to have any more strength. For Jack, the episode clarified the supposition that when on their own or in small groups, the infected weren’t any more dangerous than the average person - less so, as he’d yet to see any of the infected using a weapon, not even a brick or a hunk of wood. But if there were enough of them, their single-minded determination - their hunger - would, he decided, make them an incredibly dangerous opponent. Jack drew the knife back and slammed it through the left eye of the infected and up into its brain. Immediately, it went limp and heavy, so Jack retrieved the blade and let the body fall to the floor, quickly advancing to his final target and taking it down before it could react.
Glancing back at Tyrone, Jack saw that he had eliminated the rest of the infected, having taken two out while he was making his assessment of their adversaries. They cleaned their blades before returning them to their sheaths, and then focused on their surroundings. The rear of the hospital had a far less ornate looking entrance than any of the primary entrances - such as the one where the mass of infected were currently. A pair of double doors, a railing against which people with disabilities could lean for support leading up to the doorway, a wheel-chair accessible ramp, and a knocked over potted plant by the doors. Given the size of the ground floor, this entrance may simply have been a way for people to enter or leave without having to pass near the emergency rooms or, Jack mused, served as a staff only door. To the left were some empty parking spots, perhaps affirming Jack’s way of thinking. He raised his weapon and advanced, Tyrone falling in behind.
“Still clear.” Cross reported over the radio.
“Bridges, Smith, move up.” Jack instructed. As he reached the doors he looked through the glass to the corridor within and realized immediately that they weren’t the first to have come this way.
On the floor there was blood - a lot of it. Someone had sustained a severe injury and continued inside the hospital. Of course, this could’ve happened at any point, but as Jack opened the door and stepped inside, he tested the blood with his boot and found that it hadn’t congealed yet. Surveying the rest of the corridor, he saw it was long with a door on the left and right about halfway down before it turned into a T-junction. Tyrone tapped Jack on the shoulder to let him know he was behind him, so Jack started to advance, moving cautiously. He gestured for Tyrone to take the door on the right while he went left. Silently, they crept up to their respective doors, observing that both were open, and sprang around to face the interiors; taking aim in preparation should they see a threat. However, a quick survey of Jack’s room revealed no immediate danger, but there were lockers in rows going off to the left which could be concealing an adversary, so Jack stepped in and quickly moved through. Glancing back to check a sound heard at the doorway, he observed Smith’s form as she moved forward to secure the front of the room. In the far left corner was a shower that Jack quickly inspected before returning to Smith.
“Clear.” He announced softly.
“Clear.” She confirmed on her end.
Back in the corridor, Jack saw that Bridges had followed Tyrone into the room across from the locker room. Emerging, Tyrone quietly announced it was clear of hostiles - alive or dead - after which they all proceeded to the junction. In the still, abandoned halls of the hospital, Jack was aware of the distant echoing of the car alarm. It seemed best to avoid that section of the hospital altogether and simply attempt to go straight to the next floor as quickly as possible.
“Hall.” Jack called in over the radio.
“Go for Hall.”
“We’ve gained access via the rear entrance of the hospital. Can you give us a route to the closest stairwell to the next floor?” Jack questioned.
“Standby.” Hall told him. A few moments later, she spoke again. “Make a left turn, follow that corridor until you reach a nurse’s station; make a right turn on the other side of the station and you’ll reach a pair of elevators. Beyond those you’ll find a stairway that’ll take you up as high as you need to go.”
“Understood. We’ll contact you again when we’re closer to the target. Out.” Jack closed, tapping the side of his helmet and closing the line of communication. He made the turn carefully, observing that the blood trail which had started near the door was continuing down the passage they were now taking. He couldn’t help but wonder whether that was going to become a problem in the near future.
Chapter Four
Hall took her earpiece out for a moment and rubbed at her ear. She’d been wearing it for almost eighteen hours; her only respite from wearing the damn thing these days being the few hours of shut eye she was able to steal here and there. As this new mission had just started, she imagined she’d need to wear a while longer before she could take it out and rest again. It was a simple device that connected wirelessly to her tablet and the various communication channels it could access. A small microphone was connected to it allowing her to speak with and hear whoever she needed to. Hall was standing at the top of the tiered steps in the main control room. Below her, undern
eath the walkway, were a series of offices that were currently occupied by commanding officers, liaisons and representatives. It was a mess of abbreviations between those offices and the individuals currently working in the control centre - and then there was Maxwell. He was in what Hall considered to be the overseeing office at the top of the catwalk on the right side of the room. It was glass walled and extended over, allowing whoever was in charge to look down on the bullpen, as well as see the main screens and, in general, look down on everyone working below. She glanced at him and saw him exhale a cloud of cigarette smoke as he looked down at the main screen - a grimace on his face. She couldn’t exactly blame him. On the screen currently was a map showing Dewbury in the centre with other nearby cities highlighted. The battle for control, ultimately, wasn’t going well.
Just to the south, Springfield was reporting that a number of outbreaks had occurred within the past twelve hours. Forces were being deployed there, but they were stretched incredibly thin as it was already. People like her were coordinating everything from strike teams to larger groups of soldiers; doing everything they could to hold back the infected. Part of her wished she could be on the ground with them, directly aiding in the fighting, but she knew her skills and capabilities were being best utilized in the logistics side of the battle. Best utilized perhaps, but she still felt frustrated and sickened to see the casualty reports continue to grow hour by hour. Worse was hearing that the casualties would often come back and attack their former comrades. She’d talked with some of the weary soldiers who had returned for a break from the never ending battles to control the cities, not just as part of her duty, but also to try to help them process what had happened and move on. The overwhelming majority declared soberly that it wasn’t like fighting any other enemy they’d been up against; the awful things they’d seen were profoundly stressful on the psyche, and should they ever beat back the infected, Hall was pretty sure most of them would need a lot of therapy. She didn’t think that in a way to diminish their strength or presence of mind while engaging their relentless foe; she held great respect for the men and women she served with, but from the moment anyone was deployed in a city under attack by the undead, it was a constant, unceasing battle for survival. There was no respite while they were behind enemy lines and no time to rest: there was just doing whatever needed to be done to survive the next few minutes. It was almost impossible to establish a clear rotation to the deployments because it was all happening too fast. Before working on her current task she’d been coordinating a number of deployments, and had tried to make sure those who had been withdrawn for redeployment were able to get a hot meal and some rest before being sent back out there, but with their forces as strained as they were, it had been difficult. The soldiers themselves also possessed a strong sense of duty to protect civilians and attempt to reclaim ground lost to the zombies, as they termed them. She admired them for that, but overseeing so many and knowing that at best half of them would return took its toll on Hall. Yes, she knew they needed to get the survivors where they could help them, but she also knew that because of the strain of overseeing the never ending conflict, she’d need to talk to someone eventually too.
The Z Directive (Book 1): Extraction Point Page 5