Cassie (Adrian's Undead Diary Book 8)

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Cassie (Adrian's Undead Diary Book 8) Page 23

by Chris Philbrook


  Yesterday’s work was back breaking. Unload all the wood from the deuce, drive it up to the top deck, unload it, stack it on and inside the vehicles we wanted to set on fire, simultaneously getting all the fuel from the gas tanks we could, and all the while, shoot and take down the undead that were trapped inside the garage with us. Which, I might add, was a considerable amount.

  We had to stop on every single level to get out and take down walkers, very trip up, and every trip back down. It was something else. The second level of the garage, which was just above ground level was the deck that fed into the main level of the hospital. It had nearly three dozen zombies wandering about, and it took us the better part of an hour to find them all and kill them on the first trip up. Unlike last time, we took the few extra minutes to check underneath all the vehicles. Yeah, it was a pain in the ass, but it was damn better than getting our ankles bitten. Abby's shin guards notwithstanding, we wanted to be sure.

  We split up the groups into pairs, Ranger buddy style. One shooter/worker, one spotter. Four of us worked on the fire building, six of us worked on the drilling and explosives, and the remainder of us took firing positions from the middle of each level, taking down anything walking in our direction. We actually elected to use our suppressed weapons for this task. Despite wanting to make noise, at that exact moment we kind of wanted to be a little off the radar. With the living shooters we dealt with the last time we were there, it made sense to keep as quiet as possible. Says the guy who can't hear well today because of the concrete drills.

  Quan did not approve of the garage here. The floors were much more densely made, and because the garage was linked to the side of the hospital, he felt collapsing the space was going to be a far more difficult project. It took a full hour longer than we anticipated to get the extra explosives put in. I mean shit, Quan put enough Semtex into that fucking place to level it twice over and he still wasn't sure it would be enough. Kevin disagreed with him, but who really knows? Quan it said it would likely work, but he wouldn't guarantee it. Too late now though.

  Of course in order to drop as many floors as possible, he put the explosives on the second level, and not the first. The entry level was sunk into the ground a bit, as well as attached to the hospital, so planting the shit to blow that floor was a bad idea he said. He opted for the next deck up, which appears to him to be the way to go. I have absolutely no idea how to do anything related to explosives, or building demolition, so… gonna go with him and hope he’s right.

  Our exit from the garage was a bitch. Despite posting shooters and having them be fairly busy the entire time we were there, a disturbingly large amount of undead had made their way to the base of the garage at the Deuce. After discussing logistics, Kevin and I made the call to shoot them. The basic problem was getting over the cars parked behind the Deuce, then INTO the Deuce itself, all without causing any excess danger to whoever took one for the team to do that.

  So all of us piled into the middle level, and opened fire over the railing and down on the mass of undead down near the Deuce. We didn’t all have suppressors though, so we raised a hell of a racket. Not SAW kind of racket, we left those on the turret mounts. Just M4s and AR15 noise. Not that those weapons are particularly quiet. We’ve also been trying to rotate our suppressors out. They don’t last forever, and if we don’t take them off and maintain them, they blow out early and become useless. We remembered to take them off the weapons before opening up. They'd already pushed enough out.

  After the first massive burst of fire we sent a team running in the humvee down to the entrance. A chain hooked to the tow hook of the humvee yanked the two cars out from behind the Deuce, and the spare shooters popped off the zombies that had fallen or crawled underneath the Deuce. Within less than five minutes we’d gone from surrounded, vehicles trapped inside, to smashing our way out of the downtown area in our full convoy.

  The population had started to encircle us pretty good on the surface streets, and that was no more apparent than during the drive out of the city. Undead had managed to crawl their way into the streets and they made our trip out a little more frightening than the trip in. Fortunately they were spread out enough that the HRT was simply able to ram them over and out of the way. We hauled major ass through a totally new route to get back. It was sort of the same way as towards Spring Meadow, but also far enough south that it wouldn’t draw any attention to them. We certainly couldn't afford to run a trail of the dead that large to them.

  Unfortunately, we hadn’t really scouted the route out well enough in advance, and we ran straight into the road being blocked by a three or four car accident at the south city limits. From memory it was a fire truck that had t-boned a semi, and took out a few cars in the process. Fortunately, there were just a few undead around the accident, and we were able to push the ass end of the semi truck out of the way before the zombies on the surrounding streets were able to close in on us. God bless Martin and his plow welding skills. We were also able to raid the fire truck for two more halligans, as well as multiple first aid kids, tools, and other assorted goodies. Blessing in disguise? You be the judge.

  The remainder of our trip home was mercifully without incident.

  Remember at the beginning of all this, I spoke about courage, and fear, and all that bullshit?

  Late last night I had a strange dream that wound up with me sitting in a vague white room, at a small round table. The White Room.

  It took me a minute or two to remember where I was, and what it meant when I was sitting there. Once I realized where I was, and what was probably coming, I took a few seconds to close my eyes, and soak in the warmth and glow of the room. It felt physically and emotionally reassuring to be in that space. Sort of like the memory you have of being in a parent’s embrace as a child, or when you’re sitting in the sun on a summer day, next to the girl you have a budding love for. All is right in the world. Things can't get any better than they are in that moment.

  It felt good. Really good.

  When I opened my eyes again I was no longer alone at the table. Arrayed across from me was Gilbert, and Fitz. I was not surprised to see Gilbert, but I was definitely sort of shocked to see Fitz there. He had been a... well, tertiary character in the world of the weird so far, and to have him show up in The White Room of all places, and so soon after his death was odd to say the least.

  Both old warriors sat at the table, smiling at me, waiting for me to talk.

  “Hey fellas,” I think I said to them.

  “Son,” Gilbert replied. Fitz simply sat there, watching. He had a strange look on his face, like he was watching and waiting for something to make this all go away, like it was an illusion.

  “Another dream eh? Something noteworthy around the corner huh?” I said.

  Gilbert chuckled, and Fitz joined him. “You could say that Adrian,” Gilbert said.

  “What pearls of wisdom are you here to share with me today? Good news I hope,” I asked him. I remember Fitz leaning back in his chair, looking back and forth between the two of us.

  Gilbert shrugged like it was a matter of opinion. “You’re getting ready to go try and find her,” he said to me.

  I thought for a bit, and finally nodded back at him. I didn’t know what else to say. He already knew the answer. I knew how much he'd probably already seen and felt on the other side. Something as big as what we'd been doing would leave ripples there. Echoes.

  “You realize this is something that could break you? Destroy you. You know that if you see her left behind, dead and broken, eyes as white as bloody sheets your very soul could go rotten from the guilt you carry?”

  Again I thought long and hard about this. I knew it would be difficult to face her if I found her, but I wasn’t expecting to lose my soul over it. I stood my ground. “Gilbert I need to do this. I need to either see her alive, or see her dead and somehow make amends. I can’t live my life anymore not knowing. I need to move on somehow. Closure man. Closure.”

  This time Fitz s
poke up, “Your bullshit here will get someone killed, you know that right? These trips you’re taking into the city are dangerous. Beyond stupid, and incredibly selfish. It already got me killed. There’s no reason to do this other than you cleaning up loose ends in your own goddamn head Adrian.”

  Gilbert interrupted me as I tried to respond to Fitz, “Fitzy my boy, that’s what this is all about. It’s about everyone else supporting him. It’s about pulling together to save the soul of all mankind. Can’t you see? That’s what so much of this has been about, all this time? Trying to find something other than themselves to live or die for.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I simply answered Fitz, “Man I know this is selfish. I tried hard to get people to not join, I tried hard to do this alone, but they wouldn’t let me. You know Kevin. Michelle. They don't take no for an answer once they've set their mind. I don’t want anyone to get hurt or die for me. Enough already have.”

  Gilbert let Fitz chew on that before starting to talk again, “Adrian this must be done for you to move on. It’s taken all this time for you to get where you need to be. Spiritually, physically, and emotionally. You've been tested all along. It’s taken this long for you to find a real and true reason to move on Adrian. Yourself. Your worth. Promise me one thing son. You lean on your people. You lean HARD on your people. They love you more than you can imagine, and without them by your side, all this is for naught.”

  Michelle.

  He was talking about Michelle.

  I had no good reason to force myself to move on until now. I didn’t have the desire to purge my feelings for Cassie until I found someone I wanted in my heart as much as her. I made excuses, I made up reasons, and I definitely kept myself unhappy, and drowned myself in self pity. I wasn't worth it. I was arrogant, foolish, selfish, lazy, and not worth the food I ate, the water I drank, or the air I breathed.

  But I see it for what it is now. I see this as the struggle. The whole struggle up until now, from June 23rd 2010 to the moment I write this, the entire struggle was me trying to make myself a better person. All my pain and suffering served as my crucible. My great test to make me the person that deserves to survive this, and deserves not only to love, but BE loved again. To believe I was worth it.

  I’m not the piece of shit I think I am. Not the piece of shit I was. I’m a good person, with a future next to someone that I think is falling in love with me. Someone I think I’m falling in love with too.

  There’s just one more hurdle to step over.

  Cassie, forgive me, I love you, but I’m coming to finally put you to rest.

  -Adrian

  March 2012

  March 1st

  I feel large and in charge. I feel like a wise and omniscient military commander on the night before a large battle. I feel like General Eisenhower in early June of 1944. So much energy in the air tonight I can hardly breathe. I’m nervous, and excited, and scared, and a whole bundle of emotions I can’t even find the right words for right now.

  At the same time I also sort of feel like instead of being the toe, I might actually be the shit circling the drain. It’s hard to tell right now. This is easily our most impressive and dangerous operation to date, and anything ambitious usually costs us pain, and lives. Ask any military strategist that. Calculating the likely amount of death in any operation is a sad requirement. What’s the return on investment?

  My return might be high. I could find Cassie, and get closure, allowing myself a better chance to be a normal person again. But at what cost?

  He asks no one in particular.

  As it turns out, this is indeed a leap year, so we had an extra day, which was last night. I thought it was fitting that we started this operation on a day that occurs once every four years. It’s a rare occurrence on a rare day, and it seemed very fitting to me.

  We just returned from two separate trips to our pair of parking garages. We have a small insertion team staged at both the Factory and Spring Meadows, and at roughly the same time, they went into the city to light the fires at the top of the parking garages. We had to time lighting the fires to coincide with nightfall. Otherwise the fires aren’t anywhere nearly visible enough to attract attention. I wasn’t on a team going out today. Kevin and Michelle both thought it was bad karma to participate in lighting the fires for whatever reason. Michelle kept saying she, “Had a feeling,” that if I went into the city so close to heading in to find Cassie something wouldn’t be right.

  I’m not going to second guess her. She's the Savior. Not so soon after a White Room dream either. Not so soon after Gilbert told me to lean on those around me. Not so soon after Otis sent me off with a strange rub of his head on my leg. I can’t say what was strange about it… it was just strange. Like a… I’ll see you soon head butt.

  Not that cats can send that much information with a head butt.

  At any rate I cannot say exactly what happened on those trips, because it was all just told to me second hand. Kevin led the team into the parking garage at the hospital, and Joel led the team going into the apartment building garage. From what I heard from Joel’s team on return, their garage was a total clusterfuck. Covered from top to bottom in undead already, likely from the noise we’d made the other day. Joel said it was creepy as hell too. Like they were there, waiting for his team. An ambush. All of them were facing the road, blocking the path in to head up. I guess he had to hit them with the humvee leading, and floor it up to the top floor at top speed, driving right over the broken bodies.

  The side of his humvee got smashed apart as they fishtailed around a bend and collided with a concrete post, but the vehicle survived. At the top, they hit one of the large piles of wood on a vehicle with some of our remaining lighter fluid, and torched the shit out of it. Once the fire had taken and they felt comfortable getting out, they blitzed down to the middle deck, and Blake hit up the car he’d set the car alarm in. Joel said the bastard went off immediately, straight according to Blake’s plan, and they mounted up, and got the fuck out. I guess they ran over a few dozen more undead on the way out, but they managed to scram back to the Factory with no injuries other than a few minor dings from the humvee crash.

  The second team out, led by Kevin out of Spring Meadows had a fairly similar experience. No humvee crash on this run, but one of our guys, well, gals actually, took a ricochet to the leg. Not sure exactly how it happened, but it seems like a round skipped off a bumper or some of the concrete in the garage, and hit Angela in the calf. Nothing too serious, just some blood, some swelling, and a shitload of pain. She’ll be limping for weeks while that muscle mends, but shouldn't have any long lasting problems.

  Kevin and team made it to the upper level, got their own supply of lighter fluid on the wood, and got their fire going fairly quickly. Things got very hairy for them when they dropped down a level to start the car alarm. Blake wasn’t there to do exactly what was needed, so it fell to Hector and Martin to try and figure the shit out. Hector, despite being Hispanic, is not that experienced with disarming car alarms. (Yes, that’s racially insensitive, but he said it to me just a few minutes ago himself, so I’m repeating it for the sake of history.)

  Fifteen minutes from what I’m told. Fifteen minutes to get the car alarm to go off. Now the first trip to that garage, we had that place on fucking lockdown while we were working there. Entrances blocked and guarded, plenty of guns in the fight to pull security, all that jazz. This trip out the undead were almost waiting for them, so the ensuing firefight while the two men were getting the car going was by all reports, epic. I wish I'd been there. We sent all lower profile vehicles to that garage due to the entrance height, and all the vehicles took up defensive positions on the middle level. They fired across hoods over and over, mowing down targets as fast as they could acquire them. At one point Kevin said a few undead had gotten right on top of them while a couple of magazine changes were going down, and he had to draw his handgun to put them down before swapping his magazines on his main rifle. />
  They are so fucking lucky no one died. It sounds like they were minutes or even just seconds away from a complete wipe. I was getting sweaty just listening to them tell me the story. The kicker is; Kevin wasn't going to call for help. He didn't want us to march in after them as a QRF because he felt if their mission failed, we'd call the whole thing off, and that would've been for the best. I was so angry with him.

  Anyway, that was earlier this afternoon and into the evening. Both teams made it out okay, with just minor injuries that are pretty normal for combat situations. Pinched skin, small cuts and abrasions, burns from flying brass, that kind of bullshit. There is always going to be a reasonable expectation of injury. Name of the game.

  It was actually sort of funny to hear the AAR from those guys with Michelle and the Spring Meadows people right there. They were HORRIFIED to hear from Kevin and Hector how dicey it was. I think after the story the Spring Meadows people thought we were super heroes. I think they thought we could accomplish anything, anywhere, anytime.

  I hope they’re closer to right than wrong.

  We’ve got the fires set up to cascade into a second pile of wood on top of an adjacent car. The fires should work out that way. We’ve also got the fires set up to torch the interior of the car, and we’ve got some gasoline in the tanks that should blow as well, helping to set the second car off. Now when the second car catches, the same process should happen again. In theory, if we’ve done our jobs right, we’ll have almost 24 hours of fire and smoke, as well as maybe 6-8 hours of car alarm going off too. If the fires take properly, and burn out for a good long time, when we roll into the city to try and hit Cassie’s work, both parking garages will be absolutely full of the dead.

 

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