by Mike Fosen
* * * * * * * *
Lieutenant Powell went through his preflight checklist while sitting in the cockpit of his F-16 preparing for his latest mission. The base was now running on a skeleton crew as more and more personnel deserted to check on their loved ones. This put additional strain on everyone left, but he was proud of the way they were all handling the added stress. New orders had come down granting an air strike at another fallen safe zone. This latest target was up in Joliet and was supposed to be a “target rich environment.” Finishing his list, he reminisced on how he did not plan on bombing American cities when he signed up for the Air National Guard. Sighing, Lt. Powell ran his hand through his hair and tried to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes. The last thirty-six hours had seen several such runs and he wondered how many safe zones in the state were still intact. It certainly could not be many. Looking over to the F-16 parked next to his he saw Captain Trevino, his wingman, going through his flight check as well. Only six of their aircraft were still airworthy at this point.
Capt. Trevino, feeling like he was being watched, glanced up and noticed Powell looking his way.
"Sounds like we lost another safe zone," Trevino said.
Lt. Powell, who was now watching the ordnance crew finish loading his payload, replied, "Yeah and there must be a shit ton of infected where we are headed, cause we are loaded for bear today.
Trevino nodded his head in agreement, and they both finished up their pre-flight duties. He noted that a storm had moved into the target area and visibility was low.
“Let’s kick the tires and light the fires,” Lt. Powell told his wingman.
Within minutes both F-16 jets fired up their powerful GE F110-IPE engines and screamed into the night sky, afterburners lit, heading north towards their current intended target with a full payload.
As Lt. Powell’s metallic bird climbed into the sky, he observed a large number of infected in the area around the airbase.
"Looks like we’re soon going to have our hands full here as well," he reported to command, while quietly hoping he was back in time for a hot shower, powdered eggs and a nap before his next sortie.
* * * * * * * *
Kettle closed up his bedroom for the last time and rested his head on the door. It amazed him that he was back at his old church and no longer facing a life term in prison. The crimes he committed in the civilian world got him twenty-five years, but the convict that he killed behind bars gave him life without parole. Apparently the man he killed was the brother of one of the ladies he “saved” at his church, and the man had threatened revenge. Kettle was blessed with a very persuasive, conniving personality, however. His brother always said he would have made a great car salesman, and Kettle set about to making the best of his situation. Thinking back on his escape, he couldn’t help but grin at the way everything fell into place.
“God’s will be done.”
After years of working on the female prison guards, he had a couple of them seduced and in love with him. He also built quite a following among the general prison population as a prison chaplain.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways indeed!” Kettle told his cellmate when he saw the news video on television.
He knew it was a sign and set plans into motion. Panic soon spread throughout the prison as the reports of the infection grew, and shortly thereafter the prison went on lockdown. The administration refused to let any additional faculty leave, and Kettle knew it was just a matter of time before the guards themselves would revolt in order to leave and check on their families. Kettle just had to bide his time and plant doubts into the guards’ minds whenever possible.
Everything remained calm for a while as the remaining guards realized that they were in a safe location. However, after a couple of weeks the food supply got low, and the mood went from bad to worse. Everyone was on edge, and the prison became a powder keg ready to explode. When it did happen, it went down fast. Kettle moved quickly so as not to miss his one opportunity. Should it have been squandered, Kettle knew he would have simply starved to death in his cell or been shot by a rogue guard. The ugly correctional officer, Susan Jackson, who was fanatically in love with Kettle, was convinced to help him and several of his followers escape in all the confusion. She had been smuggling Kettle contraband for years and had even once given herself to him in a closet located near the prison chapel. She was so ugly that she repulsed Kettle, but the sex act had sealed their bond and now was the time for the dumb bitch to return the favor. With several guards now trying to leave, a fight broke out between them and guards trying to keep them inside. Of course, the thousands of screaming inmates just added to the confusion, and a full scale riot broke out. As hundreds of people swarmed the exits into the prison yard, Kettle and his followers were able to slip out to Susan’s full-sized van parked in the employee parking lot. Driving to safety, they heard rifle fire as guards turned on prisoners and each other. That was just this morning.
A short time later and a few miles down the road, Susan was brutally raped several times, first by Kettle and then by the rest of his men. Her throat was cut from ear to ear, with her body now dumped onto the side of the road as her vehicle continued south into Joliet. Kettle and his men had to abandon the van shortly thereafter and walk the last two miles due to stalled vehicles on the road. They were able to avoid the infected people that were seen wandering the streets and finally arrived at Kettle's old church.
Now walking back out into the main area, Kettle found his men were resting and talking in excited voices. They should be excited. Every one of them was never supposed to see freedom again, each serving multiple life terms for heinous crimes.
“Gather together my children,” Kettle purred.
Now they belong to me body and soul, he thought as his men drew around him.
He opened a box of provisions one of the men had been assigned to carry and handed out ham sandwiches and water. Susan had made the sandwiches just prior to their escape.
“Let us eat and drink while I tell you the Lord’s plan for us all,” Kettle said after a short prayer.
Kettle stood in front of the altar and began preaching about the prophetic turn of events that led them to be here at this time. His honeyed words flowed over them, and they stared at him in hypnotic rapture as they ate.
31
September 14
Day 20
Stephen, now soaked with rain, ran past several other guards and finally located Mattie at the far northwestern edge of the barrier wall fighting on top of a flatbed trailer. She was frantically firing into the seemingly endless mob of zombies in front of her. When she paused to reload, two other guards stepped in to fire at the closest creatures with their pump shotguns. Even combined they were just not keeping up with the damage that was being inflicted with just one AR-15 rifle. Mattie took a few precious moments to take a couple of deep breaths, but before she was able to get back into the fight, Stephen grabbed her pant leg. Mattie, already on edge and thinking a zombie had gotten behind her, spun her rifle around and nearly shot Stephen in the head.
“Whoa, Mattie, it is me!” Stephen cried, throwing his hands up.
“Stephen, w-what the hell are you doing scaring me l-like that!” she stammered. “Can’t you see I’m a little on edge here?”
Stephen waved her questions away and grabbed her again. “Have someone else take over here. I think we need to stay close together,” he replied. “This isn’t looking good. If we need to evacuate, I don’t want to be separated.”
“Good point!” Mattie motioned at a fellow guard to take over and then hopped down, following Stephen to the center of the line where the fighting was just as bad, if not worse.
She could see that several guards were already out of ammunition and were fighting hand to hand with bats and makeshift clubs. Clutching her loaded rifle, she again was grateful for having run into Stephen and Mike with all their preps.
Right in front of her on top of the hood of a crumpled car, Mattie watched hel
plessly as a man was pulled down by his ankles into the grasping hands of the hungry horde. Screams for help turned to pain then tapered off as the man was pulled under like he was in quicksand. It appeared that this new weak spot would be overrun. Mike was fighting nearby and saw the man get pulled under, observing the now open breach in their defenses. He spun and kicked the climbing zombie back into the throng. Then he opened up a burst of full automatic gunfire into the teeth of the horde. His rifle quickly ran dry, and Mattie saw him sling his rifle and pull out his aluminum bat, and he began to swing for the fences at the many craniums that presented themselves to him.
Stephen and Mattie climbed aboard the wall and into the gore and spent shell casings that covered the makeshift barrier and assisted Mike. Stephen cut down several zombies that managed to climb onto the car next to them. Then, with his rifle running dry yet again, he managed to keep the truck roof clear with his pistol until two men could climb up and begin shooting with semi-automatic handguns. With their help, as well as from the remaining reservists, they were able to stabilize the line momentarily at least.
The three of us stood back to catch our breath and reload empty guns as others took over.
“Not good; there’s no end in sight,” I said as I looked out over the battlefield.
It was true. As far as the portable light plants shined out, it was a solid mass of hungry, biting zombies. I looked at them both.
“Good, I see that you both have your packs. We might have to think about getting the hell out of here; I think this place is doomed!”
Mattie stepped forward and slapped me in the face. “You should never underestimate the power of human determination! Where there’s life there’s hope!”
I stood and stared at her in the pouring rain. She was more upset at the horrible odds that we faced than at me and most likely needed to vent her frustrations. It probably wouldn’t make her happy if I reached out and brushed away the wet hair that had fallen in her face. Probably shouldn’t tell her either that wearing a white t-shirt in the chilly pouring rain was making it hard in more ways than one to keep my eyes on our current problem.
Right as I was about to agree with her, the barrier to the southwest tipped over inward from the enormous pressing combined weight of thousands of zombies. The guards that could run did so, even knocking one another over to get away. As they retreated, a few zombies managed to climb over the fallen wall and into the perimeter. The former grocery store worker zombie, from the looks of his uniform anyway, almost seemed to recognize the fact that they had reached victory as he momentarily stopped and let out a savage howl. The trickle of zombies then turned into a howling, clawing flood of death.
More screams from behind caused us to turn and look as zombies overran the position Mattie was just at. There it looked like the dead had piled up just like I was afraid would happen, and the zombies had a nice little ramp of fallen comrades to walk up to and then over the wall. Small rings of guards were forming and firing into both breach points, but from the looks of things it would not last long. At that moment, I realized that Robert Anderson was also standing next to me still holding his now empty shotgun.
"It's time to go, Rob," I stated.
Rob just shook his head with a determined look on his face. "My wife and kids are inside; I have to reach them. I'll see you at the prison."
At that he was running to the school gymnasium. That same moment the perimeter lights started to fail one by one as the press of undead knocked them over. There were a few lights that survived near the school entry doors, but we were soon left with nothing but the darkness and the rain.
Chaos soon followed. Stephen grabbed Mattie and me, and shoved us ahead of him towards the far end of the safe zone. He turned and emptied a full mag into the nearest bunch of zombies before turning to follow. Hundreds of screaming civilians ran for the school entrances as a last stand area. Knowing that it would be a death trap, we fought against the flood of people streaming to get inside the building and made our way towards the ambulance. Finally we made it to edge of the crowd, and I found Jack trying to direct people into the school as hundreds of zombies now inside the perimeter fell upon the poor bastards in the rear of the crowd and started tearing into them. No longer were there any guards on the perimeter, and it would be mere minutes before it was all over.
“It’s every man for himself now!" Stephen yelled, dragging Mattie along with him.
Grabbing Jack by the arm, I said, “Follow us, Jack! This place’s done for! We’ve got a fallback position set up we can evacuate to!”
Jack fought me for a second or two and then the sight of the thousands of zombies filling the safe zone sank in.
“Don’t be a fucking hero, Jack,” I said. “Come with us if you want to live.”
Jack stood there a second with tears in his eyes then gave in and followed as we took off after Stephen and Mattie, who had about fifty yards on us already.
Stephen and Mattie reached the ambulance just as the Joliet Police Mobile Command Center roared past me towards the gate. It seemed that Marvin and the rest of his cronies were making a break for it as well. The glorified motor home reached the gate, but was unable, on the rain soaked pavement, to make the sharp turn needed and veered off course. Next clipping a parked squad car, it slammed into the already weakened perimeter wall. The wreckage came to a stop, completely blocking the only way out by vehicle. The heavily damaged mobile command post now had made a very large gash in the improvised vehicle barrier wall allowing a steady stream of undead to filter through. I heard gunshots and screams come from the RV as it was engulfed. A large hole had been ripped into the command center’s side and dozens of howling undead clambered inside the incapacitated police vehicle. The strobe lights were activated, as the flashing red and blue lights came on suddenly and cast an eerie light show in the wind and rain. This, mixed with several muzzle flashes from the darkened windows, mesmerized me for a few seconds as several of my former colleagues perished inside.
"Goddammit, the ambulance is out! We’re on foot from here!" I reached Stephen and Mattie with Jack in tow. "Let’s head to the barrier wall on the northeast side of the parking lot!"
“Roger that,” Stephen replied. “I didn’t have a chance to raise Dan on the ambulance radio either.”
Stephen and Mattie again reached our destination first and began to engage the few zombies that were on that side. Although there were quite a few, there was not nearly the amount that came in from the west. Plus we only needed to cut a path out, not hold a line. Finally, after stopping to retrieve my bag from the ambulance, I reached the barrier, and I clambered over it. I was tired as hell, as I had been running on empty for the last few hours of solid combat. Jack was not faring much better, but he had never been a physically active person up until recently and was starting to lag behind a bit. Glancing back to make sure he was still with us, I could see a few other civilians followed us and were crossing over the wall that was now about sixty yards behind me.
Maybe a few others would still make it out after all.
Up ahead of me, the dim figures of Stephen and Mattie ran east down Glenwood Avenue and away from this clusterfuck.
Stephen, being an avid runner, and Mattie being seventy-five pounds lighter than me, did not seem like they were too worried that my old white ass was falling farther behind.
I drew in painful ragged breaths, fighting to catch up with them, and was struck by a morbid thought: I guess they really don’t have to run that fast when it comes to zombies, just faster than me.
* * * * * * * *
At 10,000 feet the F-16’s vector followed their flight path toward the target’s location. Visibility was low due to a heavy storm hitting the target area, and they were relying on instruments for the bomb run.
Lt. Powell radioed Central Command that he and Capt. Trevino were in position.
"This is Command. You are clear to engage the target.”
Lt. Powell acknowledged and began to input the final G
PS coordinates for the two, 2000 pound JDAM GBU-31 bombs that he carried. The massive bombs would undoubtedly destroy the entire safe zone and all of the infected in it.
“Bombs away and on target,” Lt. Powell stated.
Capt. Trevino would follow at a much lower altitude with his payload of four, 1000 pound CBU-87 cluster bombs in an attempt to clear the entire area of anything that might survive the first salvo.
Saying a quick prayer, Lt. Powell watched on his screen as the bombs reached their target and deployed with devastating effect. He pulled up and away from the explosion, hoping that this would allow any survivors a chance to escape.
Shortly after, Lt. Powell heard Capt. Trevino state that he had successfully unloaded his ordnance as well.
The F-16s veered away and began their trek back to base. Command advised them that they needed to return with all possible speed back to base to use their 20mm cannons to stem an assault by the infected on their own airbase.
“We are in the shit now,” Capt. Trevino told his wingman.
Lt. Powell hit the afterburners and as the F-16s cracked the sound barrier, he realized that he may not have a place to land when he returned.
* * * * * * * *
Father Kettle looked out over his small group of hardened killers and criminals and began to speak to them in a fiery sermon to strengthen his hold over them.
“Revelation 9:6… the star opened the abyss, and the smoke poured out of it, like smoke from a large furnace, and the sunlight and the air were darkened from it. Locusts came down out of the smoke upon the earth and were given the power of a scorpion. They were told not to harm the grass or plants. They could only harm those who did not have the mark of God’s seal on their foreheads. The locusts, like these infected now roaming the land, were not allowed to kill people, but torture them for five months. During these five months mankind will seek death but not find it. They will want to die but death will flee them.”