The Rising Horde, Volume Two (Sequel to The Gathering Dead )

by Stephen Knight

  “Like hell—”

  “Don’t fucking make me pull guys out of the firing formation just to drag your ass out of here! Move it out. You know how this is supposed to happen!” To prove his point, Haley grabbed one of the straps on McDaniels’s body armor and yanked him away from the fight.

  The soft earth beneath him gave way, and McDaniels half-stumbled back into the camp, fighting not to fall flat on his face. When he got to the bottom after bouncing off of several operators, he looked back at Haley. The Ranger commander had apparently forgotten all about him, for he was fully committed to the fight, firing into the approaching wall of dead. McDaniels turned and headed for one of the gangways that led up to the wall, pushing through the hundreds of troops rallying to defend the breach.

  A diesel engine roared in the distance, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a big bulldozer clanking its way toward the opening. He pounded up the stairs, yelling for the troops to either speed their ascent or get the hell out of his way. Finally, he made it to the top of the wall, and he pushed his way through the collection of shooters there. They were firing everything they had into the advancing horde, and when McDaniels was finally able to view the situation from some elevation, it took his breath away.

  Thousands of zombies already lay on the ground between the flooded trenches and the wall, and in some instances, operable stenches were actually at the wall itself, literally try to scale the smooth sides of the CONEX containers. Despite the continuous aerial bombardment, the mortar fire, the close air support provided by the helicopters, and the hundreds of Rangers, Special Forces, and SEALs hammering the ghouls with everything they had, the number of stenches continued to swell. Millions were headed toward the breach in the wall, far more than Joint Task Force SPARTA could ever hope to hold out against.

  “Ops, this is Leonidas. Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Operations. Go ahead. Over,” Captain Chase said immediately.

  “Ops, Leonidas. Chase, I want you to assemble a mobile control element and have it stood up at the airfield. Maintain full communications with Rapier and any other element you need to talk to. Do you have that kind of equipment ready to go? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Ops. Roger, we have a prepositioned operations center just south of the airfield, between the field and the main office building. Over.”

  McDaniels turned and glanced back at the office park. The buildings were still on fire, and for the first time, he noticed that their lights were out. All the structures were dark, which stood to reason since the buried propane tank farm had gone up. “Roger that, Ops. Send a team to make it operational. It might need some TLC since it was close to the propane explosion. I want you to make announcements to have all civilians move directly to the airfield. Notify Major Carmody that we’re going to need his Chinooks in a big way. Then contact Rapier and verify that the site in Canada is ready to go. When will the next batch of vaccine be ready? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Ops. Sir, there won’t be any more vaccine for a while. The factory was hit with an artillery shell that took out one of the conveyor systems. The InTerGen people are working on it, but it’s stopped production for the time being. Over.”

  Oh, swell. “All right, Ops. Roger that last. If there’s no more vaccine to be had, then load up every helicopter we have with civilians. Get everyone out of here as soon as possible. Pass that on to Carmody direct. Do not wait for any additional vaccine. It’s time to get these people out of here. You have that, Operations? Over.”

  “Roger, Leonidas. Good copy on everything. Over.”

  “Ops, Leonidas. One last thing, Chase. Put out a BROKEN ARROW call. We need everything that can fly as soon as possible, because from where I’m standing, we’ve got about three or four million guys named zed walking up to get into the buffet line. Over.”

  BROKEN ARROW was the code designation to be transmitted to all available aviation forces in the event the task force was in immediate danger of being overrun by hostile forces. Every command and control element in the region that could surge aviation assets to the besieged post’s location would be notified directly by Rapier.

  McDaniels heard the shock in Chase’s voice. “Uh… roger, Leonidas. Transmit BROKEN ARROW. Doing that now. Over.”

  “Ops, Leonidas. Get the best combat controllers out to the airfield. We’ll have to run the show from there, because we’re going to have zeds in the camp in less than twenty minutes, guaranteed. Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Ops. Controllers are already on their way. Over.”

  “Roger, Ops. I’ll be heading back to the operations center very shortly. Leonidas, out.” With his business taken care of for the moment, McDaniels shouldered his rifle and fired into the zeds. He took out twenty in less than twenty seconds, acquiring them quickly and sending a single round through each zed’s skull.

  “Good shootin’, sir,” one of the Rangers beside him said.

  “That’s how you do it,” McDaniels told him. “Now repeat that about forty thousand times for me, all right?”

  “You got it, Colonel.” The Ranger sighted his SCAR on the advancing horde and began firing, systematically taking down one stench per shot.

  Overhead, one of the Apaches thundered into a hover and walked thirty-millimeter cannon rounds through the horde, blasting zombies to pieces as the rest of the troops on the wall poured it on. The gunfire was deafening.

  McDaniels turned and pushed his way to the right, threading his way through the crowd to the gap in the wall. Rangers and Special Forces were lined up, blazing away at the stenches. A huge pile of bodies already lay before them, and it grew moment by moment. But the surge of corpses behind the pile was continuous. No matter how many zombies were taken down, a force of thousands more stood ready to take their place. McDaniels had enough experience with the dead to know how things were going to work out for the task force.

  We’re not going to be able to hold against these things.

  18

  The tactical operations center was running in a hybrid mode, with half of the staff deployed to the airfield. Captain Chase remained in command of the center, and McDaniels saw everyone was manned up in full battle rattle. Additional sentries were posted outside, but they were nervous, trying to look everywhere at once. The soldiers, sailors, and airmen inside the center looked much the same, and the sounds of intense combat penetrated the trailer housing the ops center. McDaniels scanned the situation displays as he hurried to his workstation. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either. Most of the zeds were trying to push through the hole in the wall, and the mass of dead bodies streaming toward it was continuous. At the same time, the rest of the kill zones set up outside the other gates were only lightly active. McDaniels inquired about that.

  “The flood lights aren’t on there, sir,” Chase told him. “Colonel Haley wanted to try and contain the incursion at the gap in the wall.”

  “Yeah, that might work if we were fighting an enemy that was afraid of getting shot, but that’s not the case. Light up the northern and southern kill zones, and man them with enough troops to take care of business there. Let’s try and take some of the heat off the eastern wall.”

  “Sir, I have to disagree with that,” Commander Rawlings said. “We can contain the breach long enough for the engineers to plug it up. We’ll just need to retask one of the Chinooks to drop a CONEX back in place.”

  “Negative, Rawlings. I want the helicopters dedicated to pulling people out of here. We don’t have the time to drop another CONEX in place, and even if we did, it wouldn’t matter. Not with the stenches up against the wall. We can keep funneling them there, and by lighting up the other kill zones, we can take off some of the overflow.”

  “Gotta disagree with you on that, sir,” Rawlings said.

  “Noted. Chase, send the word out to illuminate the northern and southern kill zones. Let’s buy our guys at the gap some time. Notify each kill zone commander to stand by for continuous contact. Hooah?” />
  “Hooah, sir.” Chase spoke into his tactical radio headset, passing on the order to fire up the lights.

  The door to the operations center opened, and Gartrell hurried in. He headed directly for McDaniels. “I’ve established ammunition resupply points in three zones. I’ll throw up the graphics in just a second, but we have runners taking small arms ammo up to the primary engagement area pretty much every minute. I don’t have a good sense of how fast we’re blowing through our munitions, but it’s got to be thousands of rounds a minute. I’ve also staged additional weapons at the sites, in case we have rifle failures in the middle of the fight. The way I’ve orchestrated it is that as soon as a shooter goes INOP, he should fall out and wait to be reprovisioned. I worked it out with the Ranger command sergeant major, and he’ll oversee the actual transport.”

  “Outstanding, Gartrell.”

  “We have wounded already,” Gartrell went on. “From the artillery explosions, and also from contact with the zeds. Also three fatalities that I know of, but good news, the vaccine must work. None of the dead are standing up and looking for some chow.”

  “How bad are the injuries?”

  “Some are terrible. I understand the doctors at the cash are already operating on folks.” Gartrell pointed to the map of the camp. “Some bad news—the cash is pretty much in a straight line from the breach in the wall. If those things get inside, they’ll be able to run straight to it. We might want to start building up some revetments and firing positions inside the camp to break up the traffic flow. Sightlines are going to suck, though.”

  “Rawlings, see to that,” McDaniels ordered. “Get some trucks or something out there to start with, then start filling sandbags to break up the enemy approach. Get every civilian in the path up to the airfield, if they aren’t already.”

  “On it, Colonel.”

  “Switchblade?”

  “Go for Switch, Colonel!”

  “I want three alpha detachments set up around the cash. Use the best direct action guys you have. Orient them so they can deny the zeds from using the most likely avenues of approach. They are to conserve their ammunition until they have verifiable contacts, and they’re to hold their position until the cash is shut down.”

  “Roger that, Colonel.”

  “Aviation?” McDaniels turned to Carmody’s station, but the Night Stalker wasn’t there. He saw a young, wide-eyed aviation sergeant sitting there instead, wearing a headset.

  “Sorry, sir, Major Carmody’s at the airfield,” the sergeant said. “I’m Douglas. I’m filling in for him.”

  “Roger that, Sergeant Douglas. I want to reiterate that all civilians are to get in every helicopter that’s available and get the hell out of Dodge. The Chinooks should carry enough fuel to get to New Mexico so they can carry more personnel. I want people lying on the floors and on each other’s laps in those Chinooks. Stack everyone like firewood. Understood?”

  “Roger that, sir. Uh, sir, we have some more aircraft inbound, some civilian utility helicopters that were chopped to us. Their pilots are flying under NVGs. Two aeromedical evac aircraft and three Hueys.”

  McDaniels nodded. “Absolutely great news. When do they arrive?”

  “First aircraft is supposed to touch down in about three minutes. It’s on final approach now. Air Force controllers are providing flight handling, and we’ll gas ’em up at the refuel point if they need it.”

  “Outstanding. Tell the aircrews they get beer and steak dinners on me once this is over.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  “Gartrell, where are those graphics?”

  Gartrell had retreated to his workstation while McDaniels and the aviation NCO had their exchange. His fingers flew over his keyboard. “Up in five seconds, sir.”

  The icons representing the ammo distribution sites were up in three, and McDaniels examined them critically. Gartrell had placed them in three areas, all with mostly clear approaches to the gap in the wall. It would work. “Good job, Sarmajor.”

  “I’m happy I continue to impress, sir.”

  McDaniels grunted and picked up the satellite phone. He hit the speed dial for Rapier and held the phone to his ear as the connection was made.

  “This is Rapier. Over.”

  “Rapier, this is Leonidas, Joint Task Force SPARTA. Calling in for a SITREP. Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. You have a big audience on this end. Go ahead with your report. Over.”

  “Rapier, Leonidas. SPARTA is Broken Arrow at this time. We have necromorphs at the wall, and we have lost one section of wall due to an artillery bombardment. Apaches took out the guns, but it looks like the necros have got more than a few tricks up their sleeve. We’re evacuating all civilians, with the VIPs getting preferential treatment. All Hercules elements are decisively engaged at this time, and it’s unlikely we’ll be able to hold the camp for more than tonight. If you can find a way to get us more of the Class IV and V supplies on our distro list, that would be fantastic. Also, we submitted a plan yesterday for the Air Force to drop noisemakers and lights into the field to attract the zeds and pull them off us. They’ll gather around the attraction and can be serviced in one mass. Did that ever happen? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. Affirmative on the last. Noisemakers have been deployed at least ten or twelve times, and each collection has been hit with B-52 and B-1 strikes. Battle damage assessment has been good, but the attacks aren’t a hundred percent successful. The Air Force liaison here reports that another three sorties are already on their way with more noisemakers, and they’ll be dropping them in your area. Other than that, you have every operational shooter heading your way at best possible speed. Over.”

  The tactical operations trailer shook as if an earthquake had struck. The din went on and on as the airstrikes continued.

  “Roger, Rapier, we appear to be getting some action on the outside right now. Keep it up. We need everything the zoomies have to keep these things at bay.” McDaniels covered the phone with one hand. “Chase, get me BDA on those airstrikes from Hercules Six right now.”

  “Roger, sir!”

  “Rapier, what are the chances of getting more supplies? We’re going through Class V like water here. Also, more vertical lift assets—I just heard we have some civilian birds inbound. What else do you have for us? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. Uh, vertical lift… we have pulses out to every civilian contracting company we can find. Lots of difficulty getting those systems out your way, even if we offer millions of dollars. There are tons of demand for those assets, especially among the law enforcement and aeromedical communities. We’re doing what we can, but don’t count on much in the way of heavy lift. We just don’t have it. AFSOC is retasking some CV-22s to head your way, but they’re still involved in contingency operations supporting the attack to your north. Over.”

  “Roger, Rapier. Can you give me a pulse on the supplies? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. Same thing, Colonel, we don’t have the airframes available to fly them directly to you. The best we can do is establish a drop zone and deliver some goods from a C-130, but the traffic pattern over SPARTA is full. If we make an airdrop run, then some mud movers will have to delay their attack. You’ll have to make the call on that one. Over.”

  McDaniels groaned. “Ah, roger that, Rapier. I’d ask that you get some supplies headed our way, and I’ll have our controllers quarterback them in as well as they can. Over.”

  “Hercules reports the air attacks aren’t having that great of an effect, sir,” Chase interjected. “Once the bombs blow a hole through the advance, the stenches reconstitute it almost immediately. The Air Force and Navy pilots are hitting the same spots over and over again to keep the numbers down, but conventional munitions just aren’t having the full effect.”

  “Rog,” McDaniels said curtly.

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. Roger your last, we’ll get something pulled together and get a drop underway. Class V is ea
sier for us right now; Class IV will take some doing. Over.” Class V supplies were ammunition; Class IV covered construction supplies. McDaniels wasn’t going to argue. He needed whatever he could get in the short order.

  “Roger, Rapier. I get that. Can you give me an ETA on the drop? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. We’re working on that. You’ll have to give us some time; the order just went out. We have confirmation from the Air Force, but the actual delivering unit hasn’t been given full notification. Over.”

  “Rapier, this is Leonidas. Roger that, but don’t make any mistakes. We are in serious contact here, and we’re losing shooters. BDA from Hercules Six is that the bombing runs aren’t as effective as we need them to be. Has the Air Force figured out where it might have put its incendiary weapons? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. More incendiaries are on their way to you from the west coast. Estimated time of arrival: two hours plus. Over.”

  “What, are they delivering them by bicycle messenger, Rapier? What happened to the ‘zoom’ in zoomies? Over.”

  “Leonidas, this is Rapier. We’re doing what we can from this end, Colonel. We know you’re on the sharp end, and we’re trying to make it happen. We have AFSOC assets from here reconstituting to deploy to your area to help out. Over.”

  McDaniels had an idea. “Rapier, stand by.” He looked back toward the aviation NCO. “Aviation, we’ve been concentrating on lift assets, but what air ambulance units are in the area?”

  “Uh… there are some National Guard units out of New Mexico, sir. Roswell, I think. The 717th, I think it is. Also another one out of Las Cruces—”

  “Call ’em up and find out their availability. And any other MEDEVAC unit you can think of.” McDaniels went back to the satellite phone. “Rapier, this is Leonidas. Regarding lift assets, we’ve been thinking about heavy and medium lift assets, but the MEDEVACs are equipped with Black Hawks. Send every MEDEVAC helicopter you can find our way, ASAP. We need them to take away personnel. I have our aviation liaison working on it, but you can bring more muscle to the fight. I’m told there’s a National Guard unit out of Roswell, the 717th. Over.”