The Drumhead

by Richard Correll

  “Advance on the wreckage. Symons! Eyes right! Bradley, you have the six! Voorhees keep your eyes to the left. I’ve got 12 o’clock.“ She paused and took a breath. “Let’s do this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They moved at a quick walk instead of a run to steady their aim. Most of the things near the truck seemed to be completely unaware of their presence. It was only when they were right on top of them did they slowly pivot and hiss at the approaching soldiers. Like animals protecting a fresh kill? It was a weird, disjointed thought. Maggie picked three targets fishing around in the wreckage and dispatched them quickly. Their bodies tumbled off the small metal mountain like lifeless scarecrows. If they just wanted to bite people they were like a virus trying to infect more hosts. She got that. But, why try and bite someone who was dead in a car crash?

  “Keep your eyes where they should be!” She reminded Symons, Brooks and Voorhees. They were spread out with about four to five feet between each. “Stay focused.”

  More gunfire from Voorhees and a middle aged woman with an expensive business suit crumpled to the ground beside a completely naked man of 60. His side had a massive, blood black hole in it the size of a football. Maggie finally was able to arrive at the wreckage and look into the vehicle.

  Sitting in a space on the flatbed of the M35 was a black man with deep circles under his eyes. A large red stain spattered his nearly perfect t-shirt. He regarded Maggie suspiciously for a second and then returned to what he was doing.

  Maggie looked at him for a moment as the scene before her sunk in. A hand went up uncontrollably and covered her mouth, a muscle reaction to horror. Her mouth went very dry and an acid taste was suddenly in the back of her throat. It was holding an elbow that had been twisted off one of the corpses in the truck. Carefully, the dead man kept one eye on Maggie while chewing away carefully on its’ prize. The wrist and arm were boney and muscular. It carefully had to pick spots where the tissue was less firm before biting and pulling away the flesh with its’ teeth.

  It pulled the skin and cartilage away from the bone and chewed away while staring into Maggie’s eyes . She looked at the feeding form and felt her feet lose sensation. This can’t be right, she heard turned back and forth as she stared at the severed limb. This can’t be right.

  They’re eating us……….

  “Ma’am?” It was Symons he was standing below on the ground while she stood on the wreckage of the M-35. Her breathing was labored with an ugly taste in her mouth. “Maggie,” he hoped it might get her attention.

  She turned around and gazed vacuously at Symons. Something was clearly wrong, he could see it in her eyes. Something was very, very wrong. Maggie turned around and stepped off the M-35 and landed on the ground. She had a feeling inside her head like she had taken a hard blow and had yet to shake off the cobwebs.

  Everywhere the atmosphere seemed foul and she hungered for just a single sweet breath of fresh air. But that would never happen again. Not now, not ever. She knew what they wanted and why they were here.

  They’re eating us……..

  “Maggie,” Symons watched her wander away, rifle in her hand dangling by her side. He turned to where she had come from. Symons stepped up on a wheel of the shattered M-35 to see better. His eyes lingered on the scene for a few seconds before he stepped down and promptly threw up. He gasped twice and threw up again. He could swear the smell of decaying flesh was everywhere, conjured up by what he had seen in the blink of an eye. A hand steadied his shoulder, he turned to see Maggie with an ashen complexion and intense, haunted eyes.

  “Come away,” she said shakily. “There are no survivors, come away.”

  She guided him away from the truck to a safe distance and then turned to Bradley and nodded her head. He had been the lucky one, Symons thought while looking at his calm features. He was in control. His insides weren’t churning from the smell and sight of flesh being consumed. He hadn’t seen what he and Maggie had seen.

  “Burn it, Private.” Maggie’s voice was deep, husky and shaky. “You too, Brenda.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” They nodded and pulled the pins on their grenades. They tossed them under hand to land beneath the crushed M-35 and its gas tank. They then turned and moved to a safe distance. Two thuds of the grenades going off and then a geyser of flame as the gas tank ruptured and turned the two vehicles into a funeral pyre.

  “Ma’am,” Voorhees gasped.

  A blazing figure stood up from the M-35, Maggie’s eyes widened in horror. No! My God, no! Someone was alive up there. She bolted forward as the blazing figure stepped off of the M-35 and fell into the grass.

  She was ten feet away when he stood up. It was the man with the sunken eyes who had been feeding. His clothes were a blazing furnace while the skin on his arms and face were peeling back as she watched. Maggie was close enough to feel the heat from the flames that covered his body. She looked at his face. The eyes were close to bubbling in their sockets from the fire. Yet, they stared her down. The mouth slashed open and the teeth tapped twice together in rapturous hunger. He gave out a long, horrifying roar before he lunged at her.

  Maggie moved to her right and dodged the blazing torch before half a dozen rifles opened up and the thing dropped instantly to the pavement. The fire was still blazing away on its’ charred skin, the feeder of flesh now had its’ own skin consumed.

  “Maggie,” Pinder was at her side. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” Maggie replied in a distant voice as she stared at the blazing figure on the ground and had a flashback to it feeding. “No, I don’t think I am, Captain Pinder.”

  Symons turned away from the inferno and noticed that eyes were watching the scene on the other side of the highway. The cars moved a little slower now. Windows eased down on some vehicles to allow camera phones to record the scene. Symons turned away and almost felt sick again. The dead from the recent battle lay littered about the scene like dry leaves on an autumn day. For a brief poetic moment, he wished the wind would carry them away lest they remind him of the last few horrific minutes.

  “Casualties?” Maggie asked one of the medics.

  “We have two from Alpha Company sustaining bites.” The medic reported. “They……they just came out of nowhere, ma’am.”

  Maggie looked at the ground while her skin froze. She was hearing that doctor on the interview: “anyone bitten then goes into some kind of coma or dies. Then, they return as one of these…….things.”

  “We need to get them back to base for treatment.” Maggie turned to Pinder. “We should evacuate the wounded, sir.”

  “You’re thinking about that guy in the interview, aren’t you?” His face was hardened sadness.

  “Sir, maybe they’ve come up with something he doesn’t know about.” Maggie was clinging to any hope right now. “We can’t give up.”

  “They’re not answering us, remember?” Symons spoke a reminder from close by.

  “How do we do this?” Maggie’s breathing was still shallow from what she had seen. “Any ideas?”

  “Yeah, we go through the back door.” Pinder already had his cell phone out. He scrolled for a few seconds, tapped on the screen and raised the device to his ear. “Excuse me,” he said tersely as he turned away.

  Maggie regarded him for a few minutes and exhaled slowly as he strode away to a safe distance. Strategy and tactics, she mused. Mine is on the battlefield and yours are in the hallways. Still, we both have the same objectives, to complete a mission. She watched Pinder perform the slow verbal maneuver of convincing an unwilling participant to do at first what was believed undoable. Pinder had no smile on his face, no satisfaction in his eyes. He was emotionless, calculating. He was a general in combat in his particular battlefield. Aware he was being observed, Pinder looked up and their eyes locked. They were a realm of mathematical precision while hers betrayed an almost studious observation of what made him tick. He glanced away as she walked closer.

  Pinder seemed to quicken the end of the con
versation before Maggie got within earshot. As he finished the call, Maggie was sure she caught the last words from the other end of the line:

  “Yeah, fuck you, Pinder.”

  “They have an air ambulance coming in with a salvage team.” Pinder’s voice was calm but his eyes only made a brief contact before looking away.

  “That was quite a job,” Maggie tried to pry the truth open with a compliment . “It must be nice to have friends like that.”

  “I’m not sure I would call them friends, Maggie.” Pinder said distantly.

  “What would you call them, sir?” Maggie pressed forward.

  “Why would you want to know?” Pinder replied after a second while he pretended to examine the wreckage 30 yards in front of them.

  “Sir, I’m just asking because I want to trust you.”

  Pinder looked away from the shattered steel that had melded with flesh and bone by the force of the collision. He made a brief eye contact before looking down at his feet. When he finally spoke there seemed to be a whiter shade of transparency to his voice.

  “Can I make you a promise?” He smile was almost shy.

  “You bet.”

  “We will talk about this and it will make sense.” He looked up and despite the thin smile of reassurance there was an almost metallic hardness in his eyes. “But, now is not the time, okay?”

  “Okay,” Maggie met his eyes and nodded. You can always learn so much when you’re looking someone in the eye. She chanced to look deeper and thought she saw an almost defensive subterfuge. Yup, he’s hiding something. She filed the hunch away for further reference.

  *

  Every city, town and highway was a battlefield. For once, the United States armed forces found themselves lacking in equipment. Command vehicles were reserved for elite units. The rest would have to make due. The command center had been hastily set up in the UIC Pavilion. The 60 inch HD TV dutifully displayed a map of downtown Chicago. Here and there, the map was peppered with black dots that represented units. The information was constantly relayed via GPS.

  GPS was also an obstacle Murphy was working to circumnavigate. His keystrokes on his laptop were careful and precise. Several times he had to pause to minimize the screen from passing personal. Deception was a game best left to the professionals, he felt a thrill pass through his body. It was always the same. The almost sexual pleasure that comes from pushing the edge of everything. It was an addiction. A taste in your mouth you had to have again and again. It started with making money, breaking the rules in school and then in business. Now, he’d moved on to bigger thrills.

  Chasing the dragon, are we? He licked his lips and ignored the thought. Whatever it was, it made him feel invincible. Maybe that’s because you are, he teased himself while completing another line of the program.

  A slow and careful review of every line had to be interrupted twice by staff members asking questions or reporting information. The operation was secondary in his mind to that one offending dot that was stationary on the I90/94. The word “Pinder” hovered near the dot.

  Satisfied at the command change to the mainframe he looked up to see Alice awaiting his order. He loved having an accomplice. It made the game so much sweeter. She slowly got up and made a roundabout journey to him so as not to draw attention. We really have worked this out to the letter. The thrill pulsed through him again. That was always a huge part of the fun. Springs finally found her way over and sat down beside him. Murphy counted to five and stood up with his cell phone in his hand.

  “Yes,” he spoke into the phone, mimicking conversation. “That’s right.”

  Murphy walked slowly around the room imitating the meandering, indirect performance Springs had just completed. It concluded with him standing in front of the situation screen. His girth allowed him to effectively block the changes from prying eyes. Springs then reached over and tapped the “enter” key on Murphy’s laptop.

  ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CHANGE PINDER TO RICO?

  She tapped the yes box.

  ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE RICO?

  Again, yes.

  THE PROGRAM MUST RESTART FOR CHANGES TO TAKE EFFECT. DO YOU WANT TO RESTART NOW?

  Yes, she tapped the box. A grand total of 8 seconds had passed. Just the way they planned and rehearsed it. The incident with Rico had been added on the fly.

  “Um, sir?” A junior officer hesitantly addressed Murphy.

  “What is it?” Murphy looked up from his phone.

  “Begging the Major’s pardon,” the officer said cautiously. “We’re having a hard time seeing the screen, sir.”

  Murphy acted miffed for a moment and then glanced around the room and finally behind him to the screen. He smiled sheepishly and started to walk away. At that moment the screen went blank.

  “What the hell?” Murphy said aloud.

  “Its’ probably a power bump, sir.” Springs chimed in on cue. “If they are strong enough our power bars shut off the device to prevent damage.”

  “Very well,” Murphy nodded to Springs.

  “Its’ coming back now, sir.” The officer who had spoken to Murphy earlier offered.

  “Good.” Murphy nodded and proceeded to sit down. He chose a chair away from Springs but in a position where she could communicate any problems at a glance.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes,” Murphy glanced over at the voice. It was a logistics officer who was staring intently at the screen.

  “We seem to have lost Captain Pinder’s unit on the situation screen.” The young woman pointed to the spot where the dot had disappeared. Murphy pretended to regard the situation briefly before answering.

  “Technology,” he sighed. “Can’t live with it. Can’t live without it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman agreed. “We have had communications issues all day with them.”

  Of course you have and you’ll never figure out how I did it, either. Murphy thought as he felt the thrill pass up his spine. It was almost orgasmic.

  “No problem, Corporal.” He was standing up now and moving toward the door. “I’ll take a look outside and give the Captain a call on his cell phone. He always has it on him.”

  “Isn’t that against regulations, sir?” Someone asked. It was the officer Pinder had called earlier. He was eager for some payback.

  “Lets’ cut the man some slack,” Murphy replied. “For now, anyway.” The answer seemed to satisfy the officer as he nodded his head.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” he turned to the female officer who had addressed him earlier. “I think we all are pretty horrified at the accident that befell Rico and his unit.”

  “Yes, sir. The woman kept her voice solemn.

  “I say we let a good soldier rest in peace.” Murphy matched her tone. “Could you please remove it from the screen?”

  “Of course, sir.” She turned to her keyboard and began to tap away.

  “Thank you.” Murphy turned toward the door to step outside and call Pinder. He also put his back to the room to hide the uncontrollable fire in his eyes. The black dot on I 90/94 ceased to exist. Major Murphy was now wide open to make his next move.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Pinder sat in the bus and watched Maggie talking to the two wounded soldiers near the helicopter. More than once, she put a hand on their shoulder and got closer to them for a more personal conversation. Their backs were hunched over, heads sagging. Her hand moved over from his shoulder to the back of his neck as she nodded her head twice to one of them. It suddenly embarrassed Pinder that he couldn’t remember their names. Damn it, he admonished himself. I’m really no good at this.

  Voorhees was watching the same scene he was with a different facial expression. Her mouth was twisted like a knot. The eyes were a vision of empathy.

  “She invests a lot of time in you guys, doesn’t’ she?” Pinder said slowly. Carefully, he was feeling his way into a conversation.

  “Yes sir,” Voorhees said with a dry voice. “She s
ure does.”

  “What’s she saying to them?” Pinder turned to glance at Voorhees. She was watching the scene with intense interest.

  “She’s not bullshitting them, sir.” Voorhees had to stop for a minute to swallow and cough. “She’s letting them know they’re not alone.”

  “Really?” Pinder turned back to the scene playing out in front of them.

  “She’s always there,” Voorhees voice grew distant for an increment. “Always.”

  Symons walked past Voorhees and laid a hand on her shoulder for a second. She smiled bravely at him as he sat down beside her and across from Pinder. His eyes remained fixed on the scene. Pinder tried to read his emotions and came up with sadness and something else. It was just the way he always looked at Lieutenant Hunter when she was around. He filed the information away with a knowing nod of his head.