SHTF - The Battle for San Francisco: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Dan McMartin

  At Gunny’s side, Pete watched the carnage until it was out of sight. “We’re fucked,” Pete said as the helicopter returned to its base within the Presidio. Gunny turned to regard him.

  “I think you might be right,” Gunny said gravely but he had yet to learn just how fucked they truly were.

  ~~~

  “Pete!” Anna cried out. Gunny turned and nodded to the guards to let her in. Gunny had done the same for Pete, explaining his involvement in the action. There wasn’t much use for operational security. The enemy didn’t have the capacity to gather or exploit intelligence.

  “She’s with me,” he told them. They moved aside and let Anna into the room. She ran to Pete and hugged him.

  “I heard what happened. I was so worried,” she exclaimed but Pete put his finger to his lips. Anna looked about and nodded. There were officers gathered around a table in the center of the conference room considering their options. The undead army arrived during the day, thankfully. Most citizens were at work or school. The vast majority of those who remained in their homes near the edge of the safe zone were evacuated.

  Hundreds of Marines and soldiers had been dispatched to reinforce the lines, which had been pushed many blocks behind the edge of the safe zone. The checkpoints, fences and barriers had already been overrun. The teams of Marines clearing buildings, much like Gunny’s platoon, had slowed the advance of the horde but not by much. The Army units behind them were overrun shortly thereafter. The carefully planned defenses had been breached in less than a day.

  Pete and Anna stood off to the side listening to the reports delivered from the field and the deliberations over how to proceed. It sounded grim. Besides the losses Gunny’s platoon suffered, others had suffered casualties ranging from a few injured men to one Army Ranger unit that had been wiped out entirely. Counts taken from the air by helicopters estimated the horde at nearly twenty-five thousand strong.

  All the men, women and children in Camp San Francisco numbered half of that and they had nowhere to go. A peninsula was easy to defend from the zombies. They had yet to prove they could swim and in the cold bay, their rotting bodies might become a meal for the sharks and other sea creatures that dwelled there. But if the camp was overrun, it would be hard to evacuate the residents quickly, if at all.

  The carrier group that was on its way hadn’t arrived yet. It was rumored that it wasn’t coming at all, that the ships had been overrun. Those were just rumors but the status of the group hadn’t been revealed to the general population in over a week. Even Gunny wasn’t privy to the whereabouts or status of the aircraft carrier or its escort vessels. There were a few ships anchored in the bay but no way to get people to them in a hurry.

  Suddenly, a young soldier entered and saluted Colonel Widman. “What is it, son?” the Colonel asked.

  “Sir, we’ve managed to hold the line. Tanks and artillery are having an effect but the enemy seems endless,” he reported. Runners had been delivering messages from the radio room continually.

  “Thank you,” Colonel Widman replied. The young soldier saluted and was dismissed with a return salute. “A stalemate isn’t acceptable. We can wear down the enemy, it’s not endless, but at what cost to life and limb. At what cost to supplies?” he addressed his advisors.

  “Colonel, we should launch aircraft and bombs,” a Navy officer suggested.

  “If we destroy the city, what’s the point?” an Air Force officer replied. Gunny stepped up to speak.

  “If we don’t destroy that army of zombies, we’ll lose the city anyway. I’ve seen what they can do. They aren’t the mindless husks we’ve been led to believe. They came for us and it wasn’t random. There was intelligence behind their tactics,” Gunny argued.

  “There is no evidence to support that. Under duress, men imagine all manner of things,” the Air Force officer replied. Pete winced as Gunny leaned forward over the table.

  “How would you know, Sir? If you ever got your ass out of that fucking chair...,” Gunny began to say but the Colonel cut him off.

  “Gunnery Sergeant!” he exclaimed.

  “Sorry, Colonel,” Gunny said and backed down but the Air Force officer had been duly humiliated.

  “I don’t know what the enemy is capable of and we don’t have the time to study it now. We can rebuild the city but we can’t replace the people who live and work here. Launch the aircraft. Bomb the living...,” Colonel Widman began to order but another soldier dashed into the room and interrupted. He didn’t bother to salute.

  “Sir, their leader demands to speak with you,” he said. Everyone in the room stared at the young man, not quite believing what they had heard.

  “Their leader?” Colonel Widman asked skeptically.

  “That’s what he said. He approached the line and called a halt to the zombies. He told the Marines he wanted to speak with their leader,” he explained. The men and women around the table were dubious at best. All except Gunny and Pete. They knew. They’d seen the zombies act with intelligence. “I’m just relaying what I’ve been told, Colonel,” the young soldier added, feeling the disbelieving eyes upon him.

  The Colonel was a thoughtful and intelligent man from what Pete had seen. He wasn’t about to go on wild goose chases without good reason but he wasn’t going to dismiss possibilities out of hand either. He rubbed his chin as he considered the report.

  “Relay a message to those Marines. Tell them I’ll meet with their leader,” Colonel Widman replied. The soldier saluted and ran off to do as ordered.

  “Colonel? Those Marines are mistaken. There is no leader. Those things are dead and reanimated. They have no intelligence, only instinct,” the Air Force officer said. He was a bureaucrat in a military uniform. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting or war. He was a paper pusher.

  “Then it won’t hurt if I go look, now will it?” the Colonel replied and his tone left no room for further discussion.

  “Colonel, you’ll need a security detail. My boys are ready and willing,” Gunny offered.

  “Are they up to it? This morning’s fight must’ve taken a toll,” Colonel Widman asked.

  “They’re Marines, Sir. They’re always up for a fight...and maybe some payback,” Gunny replied.

  “All right. We move out in five,” the Colonel said and left the room. Some of the officers and advisors left with him. Others stayed to discuss the matter further or left to take care of other matters.

  “What happened?” Anna asked, now free to talk.

  “We were on the rooftops, the doors below closed, locked and barred. But some of those things peeled off from the main group, broke down the doors and came directly upstairs to get at us. Two buildings were overrun before the helicopters arrived,” Pete explained.

  “That’s...unbelievable,” Anna replied as Gunny joined them.

  “But it happened. Things have changed,” he told Anna and then turned to Pete. “You coming with us? You’re pretty handy in a fight,” Gunny told him. Pete was surprised by the praise.

  “I just did what needed doing,” Pete argued.

  “That’s more than most do,” Gunny said and his eyes flashed towards the pompous Air Force Officer who was at the table trying to appear knowledgeable.

  “I do want to hear what this leader has to say,” Pete said.

  “So do I,” Gunny replied.

  Chapter 16

  The Colonel and his entourage arrived at the scene fifteen minutes later. The horde of the undead could be seen in the distance on every street beyond the men tasked with defending the city. The sheer numbers of Marine and Army troops would make any enemy cower in fear but they looked tiny and vulnerable against the zombie army.

  The small caravan of Humvees rolled to a stop behind the lines. The stench overwhelmed the men as they exited the vehicles and then the low moaning and groaning of the undead reached their ears. It was not a pleasant sound, reminding Pete of the sounds people made when they were in pain or very ill. A Marine approached to greet them.
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  “What the hell is going on?” Colonel Widman asked, more bewildered than angry.

  “Sir, a...a man approached and somehow halted the advance of the enemy. He held up a white sheet and asked to speak to our leader...you. He hasn’t said a word since. I gotta warn you, he’s pretty hideous,” the Marine explained.

  “Thank you, son. Take me to him,” Colonel Widman replied. The Marine nodded and turned to lead the group forward. Gunny’s Marines surrounded the Colonel as he followed. Soldiers and Marines, even Navy, Air Force and Coast Guard fighters were here along with a few civilians. They all looked shaken and weary. Pete knew the feeling.

  Ahead, a wall of the undead stood waiting, swaying and twitching. Beyond that first line of the undead, there were some that fed on the fallen. Pete was sure he’d never forget the scene, the horror, that he witnessed. Thousands of the dead, risen again and ready to feast on his flesh if given the chance. He shuddered despite himself.

  “There, Sir,” the Marine pointed. The man they had come to speak with wasn’t a man anymore. But he wasn’t one of the undead either. He had a spark in his eyes, and he carried himself differently than the others. In a crowd of zombies, you wouldn’t pick him out but alone, he was unmistakably unique.

  He was a short, pudgy, balding man in a cheap suit, now tattered and soiled with blood. His flesh was almost red and pockmarked as if burned. In places, his skin appeared to have melted and in others it was gone entirely exposing the burned muscle and sinew below. His eyes, unlike his followers, were not clouded but they were gray and faded. And in those eyes, Pete could see the intelligence and feel the malice.

  The Colonel approached but Gunny barred his way protectively. Colonel Widman assured Gunny it was okay and moved closer, though the big Marine didn’t agree. Gunny walked with him to within about ten feet of the man that claimed to lead the army before them. “I’m Colonel Paul Widman. You are?” the Colonel greeted his adversary. The small, ruined man smiled back.

  “You can call me Stanley,” he replied. That caught Pete off guard. He had expected something else. The Zombie King or some such comic book nonsense. Anything but Stanley.

  “Well met, Stanley. I’m not one to beat around the bush. What is it you want?” Colonel Widman asked. Stanley smiled again. He seemed a bit deranged, as if he was on the edge of sanity.

  “I want...you...dead. I want all of you humans dead. Look what you’ve done,” Stanley said and spread his arms, referring to his army of corpses. “This is all your fault. Everything. The plague that infected so many is your fault. You’re even responsible for me. I was bitten as I awoke, a mushroom cloud in the distance and my flesh on fire. But I didn’t turn...not like these men, women and children” he continued. Pete scanned the wall of zombies and here and there, there were children among their ranks. Pete felt a rush of sadness as Stanley went on.

  “No! I became more. Something...better. And my army here, well, they follow my commands. They do as I wish. And they do not die easily. They have become something more, something better as well. They are not as fragile as you humans. They simply keep coming and under my orders, this horde of undead corpses is an army,” Stanley finished.

  The Colonel thought that over for a moment. Pete was sure Stanley wasn’t lying but he was also sure the man was crazy. Gunny glanced over his shoulder at Pete and the look in his eyes told Pete that he agreed with that assessment.

  “We won’t let you take the city. You have no weapons and we have many. Planes, tanks, helicopters and I’m not afraid to unleash hell and destroy everything south of this position to ensure my people aren’t harmed. And these men, they will die, as will I, if that’s what it takes to ensure the survival of this sanctuary and her people,” Widman told Stanley firmly.

  “Well, you’re right about one thing. You and these men will die,” Stanley said and looked off to his left. Before anyone could react, four zombies rushed forth with blinding speed and took the Colonel to the ground as Stanley laughed. For a moment, a tiny fraction of a second, Pete and the others stood by and watched as the zombies tore Widman apart, shocked by the sudden turn of events.

  Instincts, however, kicked in and washed away the surprise. Rifles began to fire and zombies began to fall to the ground, dispatched. Pete lifted his M-16 and looked for that man, Stanley, but he was already gone, swallowed by the masses of the undead. And then Stanley’s army began to advance once again.

  Corpses fell in the hail of lead but the horde behind them simply stepped over the bodies of the fallen. Some tripped and fell only to climb to their feet and continue forward. The same scene repeated itself on every street up and down the line. Pete thought suddenly that Stanley was right. They were going to die here.

  “Fall back. Fall back!” Gunny ordered. His Marines and the other men defending the intersection began to back up. Some continued to fire at the undead army while others simply ran to find cover further towards the bay. Some waited too long and were pulled kicking and screaming to the ground to be devoured alive.

  Gunny reached the Humvee and climbed inside. “Get in, Pete!” he shouted. Pete joined him and Gunny began backing down the street as fast as the vehicle would take them. He grabbed the radio when he finally stopped, several blocks away. “Send the word! Launch the strikes,” he said into the hand mic.

  “Roger,” the voice came back over the radio. A moment later, air raid sirens began to wail throughout the city. The men defending the city broke and ran. They no longer fired their weapons but instead sought cover once they had reached safety. Pete heard the throbbing beat grow louder and climbed out of the Humvee to watch. Gunny stood on the sill of his door as they appeared over the buildings.

  Dozens, maybe a hundred, of Apache and Cobra attack helicopters along with Black Hawks armed with rockets and missiles darkened the sky. They roared overhead, their rotors deafening and causing the ground to shake with their fury. Pete hoped the word had reached all of the defenders but he knew some wouldn’t have gotten the word. Hopefully, they would realize what was about to happen and abandon their positions.

  Colonel Widman had no faith the leader of the zombie army wanted anything but death and destruction. Unfortunately, for him and everyone else in San Francisco, he was right. So, before leaving to meet with Stanley, he ordered the airstrikes and sent word to the front lines. The air raid sirens were to be the signal. If things fell apart, and no one had any reason to believe they wouldn’t, the strikes would commence after the sirens were sounded.

  Widman knew that even if the enemy was directed by some form of intelligence, it didn’t have the capacity to intercept communications or defend against air strikes. Men on the ground could be killed but aircraft were all but immune to the horde below. The question was whether or not air strikes would be enough. Could they destroy the attacking army before the defenders ran out of real estate to defend?

  That question was critical. There weren’t enough ships in the bay to house all the inhabitants of Camp San Francisco and there wouldn’t be if and until the carrier group arrived. Even if there were, it would take days to transfer all the people to the ships. To avoid being overrun, the ships anchored off shore instead of sitting at the many piers. Escaping south was out of the question since it appeared the entire peninsula was overrun. Evacuating the city over the Bay Bridge was a possibility but now its approaches were overrun as well.

  They were trapped in an ever shrinking safe zone at the tip of the peninsula. If they couldn’t stop the approaching horde, it was likely most, if not all, of the people there would die. So Pete watched with great concern as the helicopters soared overhead and engaged the enemy. Rockets, missiles and machine gun fire tore into the masses of undead.

  Hundreds perished, for good this time, in balls of fire and smoke, thrown into the air, limbs torn from bodies. It was a frightening yet awesome display of power. Pete couldn’t imagine the zombie army surviving in any great numbers in the face of the hell being rained down upon them. Pete turned to see Gunny’
s reaction. He was a seasoned warfighter and his reaction would be more telling than Pete’s own.

  The big Marine appeared tentative, as if holding his breath. Then suddenly, four jets streaked across the sky and though Pete couldn’t see the targets, the plumes of fire and black smoke told him their efforts weren’t wasted. But the army advanced despite its losses. They had no morale to break. The zombies felt no fear. They followed their instincts and the direction of that once man, Stanley. Pete knew that man was still alive, directing his army, by the way they closed ranks and advanced.

  It was a turkey shoot, however, for the aircraft above. They had been given orders to disregard property losses. Buildings could be rebuilt, streets could be repaved. Soon, the sky was black with smoke from the fires that burned. Buildings had been destroyed and their rubble littered the city. It was utter chaos, a war zone in every sense of the word. For the first time since Pete arrived in the city, he saw their struggle not as an effort to reclaim what was theirs but instead a war. Pete was in the thick of the battle. The battle of San Francisco.