Zombie Airman

by David Guenther

  “Good job finding the grease monkey, he brought me the keys. When you see me turn my lights on you will head out ahead of me. I will stay fifteen feet behind you. Keep your speed to twenty-five miles an hour. We will approach the Space Command facility on Peterson Blvd, then loop around on Vandenberg St, since the other way will be blocked by the barriers that went up when the base went into Force Protection Condition Delta. If we run into any large numbers of zombies, I want you to try and distract them away from us. If we do get separated, don’t you dare miss that plane.”

  “Copy that, drive like your mother, and make like a target if needed. Whitey out.”

  “I’d ask if you like to live dangerously, but I see you do. That Master Sergeant’s not happy with you.” Henrietta said, laughing as she went through Caleb’s range bag, trying to sort out empty magazines and half-loaded ones, from the full ones, on the front seat of the truck.

  “I’ll be lucky to live through today. You think having someone pissed off at me is something to worry about? Besides, I saved MSgt Conrad’s life, he owes me.” Caleb relaxed and took his hands off the wheel; one went out the window under the side mirror, the other on the seat next to him. Henrietta reached over to hold his hand. Caleb popped back to alertness, grabbing the wheel with his left and the shift lever in his right, the same time he saw the bus lights go on. “Buckle up, this is going to be fun.” He spun the wheel to the left while stomping on the accelerator, leaving the smell of burnt rubber behind him. He drove a hundred feet then waited for the others to catch up before he turned onto the street.

  “Here, we go again! Keep your eyes open for any zombies as well as any survivors.” Caleb kept fighting the urge to let loose, but every time he looked in his rear view mirror and the three vehicles behind him he felt a sense of satisfaction he’d rarely felt since enlisting.

  “Is there anybody left alive on this base?” Henrietta asked more to herself than to her driver. She felt a hopelessness start to cloud her feelings. Everywhere she looked she was seeing zombies in ones and twos. She was looking out to the right in the distance when she felt the slight punch on her left shoulder.

  “Snap out of it, Henrietta. We’re still alive; soon we’re going to be on a plane to some place safe.” Caleb smiled and she began to feel a little better.

  “Please call me H2, Caleb. I know we’re going to be safe, but I think of my family and friends back home. Who knows what’s going on back there? Are they even alive, or are they dead, or worse?”

  “When, we get to where we’re going I’ll see if I can bring up a view of your home. I have a feeling a lot of satellites are going to be repositioned with what’s going on.” Henrietta quickly scooted over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. They both laughed when they felt the truck run over an infected. In the rear view mirror he saw the other vehicle swerve to miss the body and he laughed even harder. Caleb began to get butterflies in his stomach when they were almost to the building. How will I be seen? As a hero, or will I be fucked, for driving off without orders or permission? I should have thought of that earlier. He wondered.

  Turning into the parking lot, the loading bay was visible even with the lights turned off. They were trying to load all the supplies into four civilian pickups. Four men were acting as security with spears and clubs, against a growing number of infected. The other vehicles were close behind so he headed towards the infected.

  Caleb slowed as he tried to drive between the guys pulling security and the infected, his truck’s combination of offroad lift kit and 35-inch tires made it easy to roll over the infected. One managed to grab onto the heavy-duty grill guard and began to pull himself up the front of the hood. Caleb responded by slamming on the brakes. The infected fell in front of the truck, giving Caleb enough time to drive over him.

  The few infected remaining by the loading ramp that survived Caleb’s driving turned to follow him as he lowered his windows and cranked his stereo even louder. He began to laugh until he looked over the short distance to the North Gate. He grabbed at his radio. “Worst Nightmare, Whitey” he called, desperation setting in.

  “Go ahead, Whitey.”

  “You seeing this over at the North Gate. We have a major fucking Zombie parade. I’m taking them for a tour. Be advised they will be with you in less than ten minutes.”

  “Thanks for the update, A1C White. I have confidence you will make them uncomfortable.”

  General Peters was less than five feet away from MSgt Conrad and heard the entire exchange. “MSgt Conrad, you have a good man there.” Conrad was taken aback, not realizing the General had been eavesdropping.

  “No Sir, I don’t. You do, though. That young man, A1C Caleb White, took the initiative to take another airman, Amn Asher Brown, and leave your facility here. He then proceeded to search the immediate area for survivors, and to salvage any weapons he could find. They went out against the infected with only spears, killing any they found that had weapons. Then they broke into the security forces’ building and rescued me from the bathroom, that’s not as funny as it sounds, by the way. There, with my help, we loaded up that one ton with enough weapons and ammo for about sixty men. Then, when I was ready to drive to the motor pool to find a bus, he bailed on me, leaving only Amn Brown to assist me. He instead felt duty-bound to search the dorms alone and try to find survivors. He found two; one was a young SrA, a transportation troop. That young man, in turn, made it possible to retrieve two busses. Now, as you see, he’s drawing off the infected from us. That boy, no, that man, is fast on his feet, has guts and is intelligent. The type I think we will need in the world that started tonight. I doubt he’ll make the plane though.” Peters was surprised with the SNCO’s report. He’d been a BUFF pilot for twelve years before being grounded for medical reasons and found himself in Space Command. He thought the operators in his command were smart nerds, but never thought they were up to any challenge outside of a keyboard or satellite.

  Peters could see the loading of the vehicles was completed. He also saw the infected that had not followed the truck were closing in on them. “Okay everyone, get on a vehicle and let’s move now. I don’t like the new neighbors.” He took a quick count and was sick to see less than thirty survivors. I wonder how many others we’ll have.

  Caleb was scared he was stuck. He drove around and through the hordes of zombies, trying to get to get into a good position to have them follow him.

  The zombies ahead didn’t look as tightly packed together as the rest of the zombie parade behind him. He floored it over the green belt, bouncing as he hit the curb. He felt now like he was off-road going over rocks as he tried to cross Peterson Boulevard. Just as he was almost past, he lost all traction. The tires were spinning and all he was doing was leaving a rooster tail of blood and body parts. Zombies started to pound and push against the side of the truck. He could hear Henrietta praying frantically. The next second he was through the zombie parade, with most of the parade turning to follow him. He aimed the truck for Patrick Street, leading the zombies west, away from the squadron. “Damn, looks like their parade has a new Grand Marshal!” Caleb could feel he was up again on adrenalin and tried to keep himself calm.

  Turning the truck right away into a huge yard where roadwork equipment was stored, he couldn’t resist the urge to do a donut in the dirt while waiting for his parade to catch up. He left them in a cloud of dust as he slowly drove around the K9 obstacle course heading further west.

  “Caleb, we have trouble, look at the fence. Looks like all of Colorado Springs, is trying to get in.” Henrietta pointed to the fence. Stopping the truck, he stared in amazement, all along the fence, as far as he could see, the zombies were at least ten deep pressing up against the fence. Those in the front were having their faces dissected by the chain link fence, as the pressure was unstoppable. Some were losing their noses; others with their heads turned had their eyes popping out and their ears ripped off. It was only a short matter of time before it fell.

  “Time to go!” Caleb loo
ked to where Henrietta was pointing this time; his parade had caught up, and in a position to block them if he didn’t move fast. He aimed the truck south since that was the only escape route open now. Some runners were breaking from the parade and were racing ahead of him instead of behind.

  A few unlucky infected caught the truck, as it bounced over their bodies. The same time he reached the softball fields. The field’s fences channeled the infected, slowing them down. They were once again safely behind him. “Worst Nightmare, Whitey”

  “Whitey, go ahead.”

  “I have some really bad news. The infected are surrounding the base fence. They are at least ten deep in every location I’ve seen. When it falls it’s going to be like a damn breaking.”

  “Thanks for the update. Now get your ass to the passenger terminal, we’re almost there.” The small convoy raced down Peterson Boulevard. The closer they got to the terminal the more wrecked cars were on the road, some surrounded by infected trying to get at the occupants. Conrad pulled up to a wreck, opened his window and fired into the crowd of infected. A woman with a baby crawled out and ran the short distance to the truck. Two men in the back of the truck jumped down and helped her up into the bed of the truck. One managed to get back up when the second was attacked; he swung a wooden chair leg, like a baseball bat and was rewarded with a spray of teeth followed by the infected’s chin. He climbed half way back on the truck bed when Conrad was forced to go forward when five more infected came around the truck. Conrad let out his breath when he saw the man pulled back on.

  The last quarter mile was uneventful. Driving towards the building he turned to the right then left to drive between the buildings to get to the flight line side of the building. Four armored cars had established a perimeter around the C-130J and C-17C cargo haulers. He had to brake as the gunner in the closest armored car gave him a hand signal to stop twenty feet short of the plane. A venerable old M2 fifty cal pointed at him. He grabbed his radio, turning to channel three, the channel reserved by the SFs guarding the flight line.

  “Defender on guard, this is CATM 2, what are your intentions with that M2?” Conrad did not recognize the SF behind the gun, but did see him smile. His radio then blasted.

  “CATM 2, you are cleared to proceed. Glad to see you made it, MSgt Conrad.” The speaker’s voice was not familiar and he sounded exhausted.

  “Thank you, I’m glad I made it too. Be on the lookout for a huge red Ford F350 pickup truck heading this way. The kid driving saved my life tonight.” Conrad heard the double click of the radio in acknowledgment.

  Pulling up to the terminal, he saw the general talking to a pair of aircrews in flight suits. He then pointed to Conrad. “MSgt Conrad, we’re not going to unload your truck. These gentlemen are going to take your truck and load it aboard the C-130J. Easier than trying to tie down all the separate containers from the truck bed.”

  “Yes Sir, Uh, any number for survivors?”

  “They’re not doing a passenger manifest, but the number so far is one hundred eighty three including crews.”

  “Sir, I know the base population including, dependents, army, navy, marines, Canadians, and assorted civilians is about fifteen and a half thousand. What we are saving is only a tad over one percent.” Conrad felt himself tingling and was afraid he’d go into shock.

  “Trust me, Sergeant, I realize even more so than you. Over ninety percent of those live off base and probably could not get to the base with everything going on. Excuse me please; I need to coordinate some things.” MSgt Conrad came to attention, then grasped his carbine sling with his left hand as he brought up his right hand to salute. The general returned the gesture with his own crisp salute, and then proceeded on towards the C-130J.

  Conrad decided to join the SFs and try to find out what they knew about the current situation, and who was still alive from the squadron. The wind was picking up from the northwest and it was forcing him to cross his arms to try to keep slightly warmer. There was something else on the wind, the mixed smells of smoke and rotten meat. He gave a slight shudder and walked faster to the armored car, an older M117 Guardian. They’d been in service over twenty years, these were less than five years old he knew.

  The armored car made a good wind break, as he got closer. Conrad banged on the side of the car when he realized the turret hatch was not open. A SrA quickly opened the hatch and then popped up. “Damn, son I don’t know what your call sign was before, but you are now Jack, as in Jack in the box the way you popped out so fast. Now bring me up to date to our status as you know it.”

  “MSgt Conrad, we took heavy casualties for the first five hours after darkness. We were trying to use non-lethal force, treating the zombies like protesters. Shit, the first few hours they seemed to all be military or dependents, then they started coming from off-base. When SSgt Jacobovitz radioed in for guidance, Lt Powers gave the order to try to seal the gates. We couldn’t by that point, and could only engage the anti-vehicle barriers….”

  “Why was SSgt Jacobovitz contacting Lt Powers? He’s like number five in the squadron chain of command.”

  “By 1100 hrs, he was the most senior ranking officer the squadron had left. I’m hoping more of our people that live off-base show up.”

  “Okay Jack, I’m sorry for interrupting you. Please continue.”

  “So, the LT ordered us to fall back to the flightline, to establish a perimeter to protect the aircraft. SSgt Jacobovitz made his own interpretation of that order and filled the planes with all the warm bodies we could. Unfortunately, when we were trying to repel the zombies earlier, he received wounds. An hour or two later he turned; fortunately he was in the turret with the hatch open. When he did turn, he jumped out of his vehicle, doing the scream they do, and our own people put him down.

  Including you, we have nine defenders left, two in each of the M1117s. You are the senior ranking person in the squadron. How have you been spending your night, MSgt Conrad?”

  “Would you believe trapped in the head? When we were initially capturing and bringing those creatures in for processing, we had a shitload of our folks become infected. I was down to half a magazine for my M17 and ended up barricaded in the squadron’s head. Then someone managed to shoot me through the door. When I woke up, I had to do self-aid buddy care on my gunshot wound. Later we loaded up a truck with weapons and ammo to bring here. That’s the quickie version of the story. Buy me a beer later and you’ll get the full war story, if, there is a later.”

  “MSgt Conrad, I have to live now just to hear that story. Did you get any .50 cal out on the truck? All the trucks are low and we never loaded the grenades for the MK-19s.”

  “Sorry son, in the rush we were looking at personal weapons only, just grabbed 9mm and 5.56. We have 20/20 hindsight though.”

  SMSgt Lopez decided it was time to abandon the control tower. She knew the aircraft were taking off soon. From her position, it looked like the tens of thousands of infected coming from the north and the west would arrive about the same time they were to take off. She could also see a convoy less than a mile heading to the base from the east. The collection of vehicles was mainly Air Force, with a sprinkling of civilian vehicles mixed in. The convoy is going to reach the base the same time the Zombies do. I must report this. She looked at the torn up tower with its destroyed radios and electronics and her two dead infected coworkers she’d killed when they tried to kill her. Others were pounding at the door trying to get to her also. Her only hope was to strap on the harness and use the Emergency Escape System. (EES) I really don’t want to jump off the tower and trust that gadget sold to the Air Force by the lowest bidder with the cheapest parts to lower me to the ground. She smashed the emergency window. Reaching out, she swung out the EES arm of the emergency system so she would not be too close to the tower when she lowered herself to the ground. Connecting the cable to her harness (she did not like how thin the cable was) then closed her eyes and jumped off the side of the tower. She was surprised how slowly it lowered her,
afraid she would find a reception committee waiting for their dinner when she reached the ground. She quickly got out of the harness and behind the wheel of the squadron pickup truck and tried to call anyone, without any luck.

  Infected appeared around the corner of the control tower, heading towards her, as the truck started up. She was heading for the passenger terminal when she saw a weak beam of light from the cockpit window of a C-130J. A dozen infected surrounded the plane. Without a second thought, she headed for them.

  “You ready for some more fun, H2? I figure if we head straight east then south we should be able to get them all backed up in base housing since there’s no wide straight roads. You game?” This time his smile was forced and his adrenaline was running on empty from the long night of adventures.

  Henrietta appreciated him making the effort to sound happy-go-lucky. She also realized with the narrow streets of base housing, they could end up trapped just as easily as the zombies. “Absolutely, should be a rush crossing back over Peterson Boulevard with it packed with zombies.” He steered the pickup past the second set of baseball fields and turned off the music for a second as he stopped. The narrow dirt road he was on between the base fence and the fence surrounding the baseball field had created a choke point, zombies were shrieking even louder in frustration as they fought with each other to get past and at the truck. Caleb unbuckled himself then leaned out the driver’s window and aimed at the crowd, less than a hundred feet, then fired a full magazine into the crowd, he checked the magazine when it stopped after two seconds. “Daaamn, that was cool.” He pulled himself back into the truck, a huge grin on his face. “Time to go, I think.” As he started forward again, he saw the nearest zombie was only ten feet behind him; the next closest was forty feet. Slamming on the brakes he threw it into reverse aiming for the zombie. The truck vibrated roughly as he went over the zombie. He hit the brake, putting it in gear and jumped forward, the zombie was just getting onto his hands and knees, not seeing the truck until it knocked him flat as he ran over it again. Caleb held down the horn in mock salute before turning on the stereo again. He resisted the urge to floor it.