Zombie Airman

by David Guenther

  “Sorry, I need you to open the stairway door, when I say to.” He held the automatic in an exaggerated weaver stance, “Open it now!”

  Three infected fell down as those behind tripped on them. Caleb got over his shock at the number firing into the masses as the girl jumped over the infected and stood behind him, blocking him from retreating. The girl reached around him and smashed those infected trying to stand up as he finally pushed her back. He took two steps when he realized he was no longer firing his pistol. He shoved it into the holster and brought up the carbine, flipping the selector switch to ‘auto.’ The infected in front of him was torn almost in half as 5.56 rounds ripped through his stomach and into those in the doorway.

  “Run for the other stairway!” Caleb turned to see the backside of the girl already twenty feet away. He pressed the magazine release with his trigger finger, ejecting the spent thirty round magazine, catching it in his left hand. Quickly dropping it in the range bag, then pulling out a fresh magazine, unceremoniously slamming it into the carbine. A memory from basic popped into his head, Slap the ping pong paddle! Caleb laughed as he hit the tiny paddle shaped bolt release. He felt the bolt slide forward before he ran to catch up with Henrietta.

  Her beautiful brown complexion was now ashen. She stood by the corner of the building and pointed at him. “They’re catching up to you!” He turned and saw he had a few seconds. Bringing up the carbine he set the red dot on the first runner, aiming for his throat, he quickly caressed the trigger counting three shots, two of the runners fell and others tripped over them. He flipped the selector switch to ‘semi’ taking a second for each shot as a small wall of bodies formed where they fell, almost all in the same spot. He couldn’t see any more coming so he pressed the magazine release and took a quick look at it in his left hand, two rounds remained. He dropped it into the bag and grabbed another new mag, sliding it more gently this time then tapping the bottom firmly. He let the carbine drop, then reached for the automatic on his hip. He released the mag like he’d been doing it his entire life, into his left hand then slapped in the new magazine.

  “Henrietta, you did really outstanding back there. You ever shoot an automatic? Here, it’s loaded and one in the chamber, safety is off.” He held out the gun to her and was impressed as she took it then checked the magazine release, then slapped it firmly back in place, then slid the slide back partially, confirming it was loaded.

  “Thanks, I don’t feel so underdressed now. My dad taught me to shoot with a Beretta 92 growing up. He was in the Navy. Let’s see, no hammer or decocker, works for me. Now what’s your plan?”

  “Okay, same plan, different door. Those things aren’t big on opening doors, so the stairwell should be clear, I guess the other stairwell must be propped open, that’s why so many were waiting for me to open the stairway door. We’ll walk down to the second floor and you open the door and give me room to shoot. If it’s like it was before, we abort and head for the truck. I’ve pushed my luck too far already.” He saw the disappointment in her eyes, and immediately felt embarrassed, but she nodded yes without saying anything.

  The stairwell was empty as they made their way to the second floor. Henrietta took up position by the door. She put her hand flat against it to feel for any vibration from the other side. “Ready?” Caleb whispered softly. She looked back at him and mouthed the word ‘no.” Finally sure it was safe, she grabbed the door in her right hand, holding the automatic pointed down in the other.

  “Go!” Caleb whispered as she pulled open the door quickly. A lone female infected stood there, asleep on her feet. Caleb didn’t hesitate and put a round in through her right eye. The gore from the back of her head was still sliding down the wall as he jumped over her body, checking for others. He ran around the corner, relieved to see the walkway empty. He knocked on the door loudly before moving on to the next door. On the second knock a young man opened the door, only a towel wrapped around his midsection. His eyes grew wide when he saw Caleb in his full body armor covered in blood and a M4 pointed at his chest.

  “What the hell’s going on?” He screamed as Caleb pushed him back into his room and followed closely, Henrietta quickly closed the door behind her.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s the Zombie Apocalypse! Look down in the street.” The kid reached for the door handle and Henrietta slapped it away with the automatic. The kid stuck his knuckles in his mouth and made a whimper noise. “Look through the window, Einstein.” Caleb whispered harshly. At that moment, a dozen infected caught a woman trying to run to her car. His eyes opened even further when he saw them knock her to the ground and the splash of blood. The heavy windows stopped them from hearing any sounds from outside.

  “They’re evacuating the base at 0400. You can come with us now, go back to sleep, or try to make it to the passenger terminal on your own. You may have better luck that that gal just did down in the street. Tick tock!”

  The kid ran to his walk-in closet and pulled on a tan t-shirt, then dropped his towel and slid on his OCP pants. The belt was already in the loops, he then grabbed his boots and dropped to the floor, quickly sliding them on then tying them. Last, he pulled on his OCP shirt from a hangar. Caleb smirked that the dork before him was a SrA, one grade higher than him. Caleb walked over to the kitchen, and looked in the fridge and saw half a case of bottled water. He grabbed two and dropped them in his range bag then grabbed another two to take back to the other side of the dorm room. He handed one to Henrietta, then opened the other and chugged it in seconds.

  “Hey, whatever your name is. You wouldn’t happen to have any weapons, would you? I’m pretty sure the dorm manager is dead so you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble.”

  “Shit, I’m really not going to miss the bastard. I’m Rick Kerr, transportation squadron.” Rick reached up over his bed and pulled down on a floating shelf lined with books. The false bottom held an AR 15, tricked out to look like a M4A1. He slid the 3-point sling over his shoulder and adjusted it, and slapped in a thirty round magazine. He pulled back the charging handle, before letting go, feeding a round into the weapon. He took the remaining magazine and stuck it half way into his thigh pocket.

  “You any good with that thing, or just hide it here so you can feel bad ass?” Caleb asked, amazed at the airman’s audacity.

  “Damn right, almost made it through Marine basic when I got injured. I decided to go Air Force instead of reapplying to the Marines. One more year and I’ll be a civilian back in Ada, Oklahoma. I’m going to open up my own roadside truck repair service.”

  “How about for now, you help me clear the dorm, then find a bus to get folks over to the passenger terminal?”

  “Not a problem, chief, you lead and I’ll follow.” Caleb smiled at the response and reached into the range bag, pulling out two thirty round mags, he passed both over both to Rick, then reached back in and grabbed two 9mm mags, he handed to Henrietta. “Try not to lose those magazines unless you can shit me up some new ones.” He felt his face start to flush as Henrietta laughed at his remark.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll lead, Henrietta, you’re in the middle. Rick, you watch our backside. We’ll finish this floor then hit the first floor and book to the passenger terminal. If needed, we’ll head over to transportation to find a bus.

  “Before we go let me see if my roommate on the other side is there. He’s a dick, but it’d be fucked up to leave him behind. Rick pounded on the door from the kitchen to the other dorm room. He reached for the doorknob and stopped when Caleb grabbed his hand.

  “That’s an easy way to die there.” Caleb stepped closer to the door, M4 ready, “Open it now!” The room was black with no light showing. Caleb stepped forward then blinked when Rick reached inside, flipping the light switch. A head, with a set of huge headphones, was visible poking out from under the bed covers. Everybody relaxed as Rick went to shake his roommate’s shoulder.

  “Hey Stuart, wake up!” Rick shouted, jabbing the sleeping figur
e’s shoulder. The roommate jumped out of the bed and fell back as the headphone cable snagged on the nightstand. Heavy metal blared out as they were ripped off, mixed with the infected’s voice, “Aieeeeeeeee!” Rick fell backwards in shock at the same time as Caleb stepped closer and fired a double tap into the ex-roommate’s face. Rick grabbed his ears from the unexpected M4s blast in the small room.

  Rick stood up, trying to shake off the shock and the violent death of his roommate. He looked behind him in time to see Henrietta’s back as she disappeared through the doorway. He got off the floor and caught up with them as they were pulling bottles of water from his fridge. “Want one?” Henrietta asked, holding up a water.

  “I guess I’ll have one, especially since they were Stuart’s. I’d rather have a beer, but I don’t see that happening tonight.” Rick walked over to his closet and pulled out an ancient olive drab canvas bag with both a handle and a shoulder strap, stenciled on the top was ‘US’. “That’s my great granddaddy’s from WW two.” He opened the two straps, then filled it with cans from his pantry before grabbing the last of the water bottles to fill it up. Cinching the bag closed, he slid it on over his shoulder so the bulk would be on his back and out of the way.

  “Okay, is everyone ready to go this time?” Caleb stood by the door waiting for the word from Henrietta.

  Henrietta pulled back the curtain, then announced, “It’s clear both ways.” Caleb opened the door heading to the left. He waited a few seconds as his team caught up with him.

  “Do you think I should have locked my room?” Rick asked in a stage whisper. Caleb turned his head and looked at him in utter exasperation as Henrietta burst out in uncontrollable laughter, followed by Caleb. Both had tears streaming down their cheeks.

  Smiling, Caleb turned back to knocking on doors, with his new team covering his back and the surroundings. The only reply to knocking on doors was shrieking and thumping as infected fought to get out and at him. He stopped at the door to the stairwell, amazed he was no longer feeling as fatigued.

  “This is the Peterson command post with an important message. All personnel and dependents are directed to proceed to the Peterson passenger terminal. All individuals are encouraged to bring any weapons they may have. Every attempt should be made to avoid the infected en route. Use of deadly force for self-defense is authorized, if you are unable to avoid the infected. Transportation has been prepared. All personnel and dependents must be at the passenger terminal no later than 0400 hours. We will inform you if there are any updates or changes. Peterson command post out.”

  “You both know its almost 0330 hrs now. We’re really going to have to hurry this along. If there’s too many we bail out and head for the truck. It’s a big red Ford F350 by the exterior door to the stairwell. Henrietta, you open the door, I’ll lead, then you follow with Rick as rear guard.” Caleb gave his nod and she pulled the door open slowly, the stairwell was still clear. All walked down as quietly as possible, knowing the sound from the stairs carried to the outside. At the bottom of the stairs, Henrietta positioned herself to open the door again. Caleb nodded and she slowly opened the door. Caleb choked on his own bile when he saw how many infected were waiting.

  “Close the damn door. Close the damn door.” He joined Henrietta in slamming the door shut. “Fuck fuck fuck! Okay, we take door number two, I have a feeling it’s going to be just as bad. All our shooting must have drawn them to us. H2 you open that door as fast as you can. I’ll spray as many as I can. Rick, you follow up at my side. When we have a path, we run. I’ll go for the driver’s door. Rick, you hold the passenger door open for H2, then get in. When the engines started, I’m gone.” The fear was in his voice. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, then held them up to his mouth and bit down on a leather key ring.”

  Henrietta positioned herself by the stairwell door to the parking lot. Caleb and Rick stood side-by-side, carbines aimed at the door. Caleb nodded to Henrietta; she rapidly opened the door all the way, getting herself out of the line of fire. Caleb’s mouth felt dry when he saw dozens of zombies just standing between the door and his truck. Rick beat him to the first shot, a Lt Col (Lieutenant Colonel) in a torn flight suit, had his head explode with a single shot. “Using hollow points” Rick shouted as he shot another pair. Caleb fired an initial burst, hitting three infected with only one going down. He switched back to ‘semi’ and proceeded to swiftly aim at each target then firing twice, before moving on. Both shooters jumped when Henrietta began shooting her M17 Sig Sauer, from the middle of them, with its loud pop as she fired at each target.

  Caleb saw his opportunity to make for the truck as the infected began to thin. He spit his keys into his left hand. “I’m going for it. Keep me covered!” He darted out to the truck. Having to jump over a wounded infected who tried to reach up at him. Damn, I’m an idiot, but I’m going to make it! He jumped up on the step and pulled the door open in one fluid motion, then forcing the M4 muzzle towards the floor as he tried to sit. Switching the keys to his other hand, he fired up the truck. The truck shook as Rick violently crashed into it; he then turned and fired at pursuing infected. Henrietta opened the door and slid over into the center seat breathing hard. Rick jumped in behind her, slamming the door, face pale as a ghost.

  “Yeehaw!” Caleb shouted, gunning the engine and leaving rooster tails in the grass. “Are we having fun yet?” Everything around Caleb was in slow motion as he rode his adrenalin high. “Aww crap! I forgot.” He kept the truck steady as it bounced onto the road before reaching into his body armor and turning on his radio. What the hell do I use for call signs?

  “Brownie, this is Whitey. You out there?”

  “Whitey, this is your worst nightmare, get your ass over to transportation ASAP!” MSgt Conrad replied.

  “Copy, ETA three minutes.” Caleb looked at his passengers. “I think I was safer with the zombies.” He tugged at his side to pull out his range bag while keeping his eyes on the road. “Okay, everyone reload now. Anyone save your empty magazines?”

  “Nope, but I did reload already.” Henrietta reached into the bag and grabbed two magazines for herself. “How many for you, Ricky?” When he didn’t reply she gave him a nudge, turning his head like he had just discovered she was there. “Earth to Ricky, how many magazines for you?”

  “Uh, three please.” He gave an embarrassed smile, and then swapped out his mag for a new one and went back into a trance. Henrietta took the partial mag and dumped it into the bag. She looked at Caleb driving, then reached in and grabbed another mag. She put her hand on his knee and looked into his eyes as she bent forward.

  “Don’t get excited or your hopes up. She held his carbine firmly in her hand then pushed the magazine release with the other. She sat back up to drop it in the bag then bent forward, grabbed his carbine and inserted the magazine in, then slapped the bottom. She looked back at him, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe, on our second date. That is, if we survive tonight. Give you something to want to live for.” She broke out laughing at her own joke.

  Caleb pulled into the transportation squadron’s vehicle yard. He could see the busses, and Conrad’s truck, but no activity. “Well, Ricky what do I do now if I want to grab a bus?”

  “Call me Rick. That little shed to the right is where the keys and log books will be for each vehicle in the yard.”

  “Worst Nightmare, Whitey. I’m heeere! Where are you guys?” Caleb was feeling like the night might soon be over.

  “We’re trying to hotwire a damn bus the keys are missing, they weren’t in the dispatch shed,” Conrad relied angrily

  “I’ll get them; the dispatcher locks them up in his office over night when nothing is scheduled. We had an incident once. A guy stole an armored humvee. It wasn’t pretty. Rick jumped down, and quietly closed the door. Caleb tracked his movements, making sure there were no zombies. Rick got to the building and inserted his CAC, then typed in 4783. The locking bolt slid in with a loud click.

  The hallway wa
s black. In the far side of the building, Rick could hear shrieking and froze. The motion sensor detected the movement of the infected and the lights in the hall went on the same time they did over him. He went ten feet, then turned the doorknob on the door marked ‘Dispatch’ and was surprised it was unlocked. He was even more surprised when TSgt Powers bit his calf from where he was laying on the floor. The infected once known as Powers shrieked as Rick managed to fire seven times into his head. He then reached over and took the key board with all the keys and gas cards. He backed into the hallway and heard the shrieking getting louder. He turned and ran the short distance to the exit and slammed it behind him. He heard multiple thumps along with the shrieks, of the infected trying to knock open the door. He jogged over to the dispatch shack and put the keyboard back in place. Someone may need keys, no reason to die. He laughed at his own dark thought and grabbed all three sets of bus keys.

  Jogging over to the busses he felt his leg begin to itch and burn. No, no, no. “You better not have fucked up my ignitions,” he shouted before reaching the first bus. Looking at the vehicle number stenciled on the bus he took the matching keys and tossed them up to the pair, “are we each going to take a bus?”

  “Just you and I, the kid here, can’t drive a bus. He has to drive the one ton anyway. I’ll take this bus, you drive the other bus,” Conrad looked at Rick’s leg in concern, “You been bit, son?”

  “That’s not my blood, I’ve been busy tonight.” Then gave what he thought passed for a brave smile.

  Conrad fired up the bus, “Ya’ll get off my bus and get ready to follow me. I pull out in five minutes. Damn, that reminds me of something I told your mothers once. Now move.’ He picked up the radio. “Whitey, Conrad.”

  “Whitey here.”