by Allen Gamboa
“Leave it bro. I love these guys.”
“You’re shitting me?” Washington just stared at the driver as he began to mouth the lyrics to ‘Be True to Your School’. “You’re not shitting me. Who are you? You'd think bad guys would listen to something a little less happy.”
“Like what?”
“I don't know, maybe a constant loop of that music they play when Darth Vader shows up.”
Suddenly a bullet smashed into the hood of the SUV and both men jumped.
“Fuck.” Jefferson started to duck down but then he remembered the vehicle was armored.
Another round struck Washington’s door as the Marine stepped on the accelerator pulling them away from the sniper.
”What the hell was that?” Washington asked as he glanced around at the buildings for the shooter.
“Probably just some asshole wanting our shit.”
“Well, he ain’t gonna get it.” Washington said as he tightly gripped the rifle in his hands.
The CD had switched to ‘Little Deuce Coupe’ as the soldier glanced over to the Marine who was now singing along with the disc. “Really?”
“Dude, I grew up in a small town by the Pacific Ocean. Love these guys.”
“Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you surf.” Washington said as he cautiously started out his window.
“Uh huh.” Jefferson nodded as he quickly turned down a side street to avoid any more sniper rounds. A row of apartment buildings and a burned-out supermarket greeted them as they pulled onto the narrow two lane road. Jefferson noticed a makeshift retaining wall made of tires, cars and shopping carts.
“What the fuck is that?” Washington asked as he pointed at the patchwork barricade that blocked the roadway.
“Looks like a lazy attempt at security. There’s an opening over there big enough to drive through.” Jefferson said as he nodded towards a big hole in the barricade.
“Think that’s a good idea?” The soldier asked, a small feeling of dread was starting to join the hunger pangs in his stomach.
“No. We can turn around and get shot at some more.” Jefferson shrugged. “Nervous?”
“Hells yeah I’m nervous.” Washington nodded anxiously as he turned to the driver. “I once went down a dark road with his chick I just met and got the surprise of my life. Only it wasn’t a good surprise.”
“Then you ain’t gonna like this surprise Wash.” The Marine said as he stopped the SUV just outside of the barricades opening. Washington turned back to the front of the vehicle and instantly drew his rifle into his lap. In the middle of the supermarket parking lot, a Paramedic truck lay on its side. Several men and women were digging through the rear of the rescue vehicle pulling out the various medical supplies that were stowed away inside. A few feet away from the wrecked truck was another, bigger crowd that seemed to be made up of mostly men. The agitated group had their backs to the SUV, their attention focused on whatever was happening in front of them.
“What the hell are they doing?” Washington asked as he leaned forward trying to get a better read on the situation.
“Nothing good.” Jefferson quickly pulled his M4 out of the middle seat. He deftly checked the magazine then snapped back the charging handle. “You ready?” He asked giving Washington a steely eyed grin.
“Ready for what?” The soldier glanced back and forth between Jefferson and the angry crowd. “You kidding? These guys will eat us up! I say back us up and get us the hells out of here!”
“Just wait here then, I wouldn’t want you to break a nail!” Jefferson said as he angrily shook his head and flung open his door.
“Aw, shit! I’m coming Jeff!” Washington would never hear the end of it if he let the Marine do all the heavy lifting. Cursing under his breath he pushed open his door and pulled his M4 out along with him. As the two soldiers made their way to the front of the SUV, the Beach Boys ‘Fun, Fun, Fun’ suddenly blared from inside. Some of the crowd, hearing the music, turned their attention toward the vehicle.
“Stop what you’re doing and back away!” Jefferson shouted. Using part of the makeshift barricade for support, he aimed the barrel of his M4 at the center of the crowd. The two soldiers now had the mobs undivided attention. Four of the men turned in their direction and suddenly charged at the two of them. The crazed men were waving bats, crow bars and sticks as they sprinted in their direction. The two soldiers quickly fired at the advancing thugs knocking them down before they could get to the gate. Some others in the crowd broke away from the mob and ran in the opposite direction not wanting to get shot. The group looting the rescue truck grabbed their spoils and sprinted back into their hiding places. Others in the crowd just stood staring defiantly at the soldiers. One of the men, pants still down around his ankles, reached down and picked up a huge pick-ax like thing. The Marine recognized it as a Halligan, a fireman’s multi tool. The man stared daggers at the soldiers, the tool gripped tightly in his hands. In the darkness, Jefferson, could make out the hatred in his eyes. The soldier knew this man was pure evil.
“Drop your weapons and go!” Jefferson ordered the dozen or so that remained. A few of the men glanced over at the three bodies that lay sprawled out on the ground in front of them, anger burning in their eyes. The man with the Halligan was getting ready to jump, bringing the others with him. The Marine could see they were torn between following the man with the ax or running. Jefferson decided to make up their minds for them. The soldier fired a round into the head of the man holding the Halligan and dropping him to the asphalt like a wet sack of cement. “I can do this all day!” He angrily shouted to the others. “I got plenty of rounds!”
Washington stood near the front of the SUV watching their surrounding areas in case the group got stupid and tried to outflank them. The grunt glanced back over to where the crowd had been assembled and sighed, relieved that Jefferson’s shot had been able to disperse the big group.
“Washington! On me!” The Marine shouted as he moved forward, rifle up and sweeping the now empty parking lot.
“Roger that!” The soldier nodded as he threw a quick look behind him then followed Jefferson over to where the three bodies lay crumpled.
“Aw, fuck me.” Jefferson could see that two of them were women. All three of them had most of their clothes ripped off and were covered in blood. “Keep a look out!” The Marine said as he slung his rifle and dropped to a knee checking to see if any of them were still alive. Washington shook his head in disgust, disturbed by the condition of the three bodies. As the world fell apart it still surprised him at the horror man could still inflict on each other. The undead weren’t the worst of it most times.
Jefferson had checked the first two bodies and found no sign of life. The male had been beaten so badly that he no longer had a face. His body was still very warm so he had just expired. It even looked like he’d been severely sexually assaulted. The second, a female, had been beaten too, but her face was untouched. From the condition of her body she’d also been brutally violated. Trying to hold back his rising anger and wishing that he’d just opened fire directly on the crowd, Jefferson moved on to the third body. Another female, she still had her pants on but her shirt had been so violently torn from her that the blue t-shirt collar still remained around her neck. Bruises and scratches covered her chest and back. She’d also been struck several times in the face whereas the other woman had not. This one had put up a helluva fight. The Marine grabbed her right wrist and felt for a pulse.
“Washington!” Jefferson glanced back at the other soldier. “We got a live one!”
CHAPTER 31: SHIT HAPPENS
Outside the Nitrex Plant
“See anything?” Lieutenant Uribe asked Hale as the big Sergeant scanned the darkened perimeter of the plant with the team's only pair of night vision binoculars.
“Looks like we are too late” Hale swept the outside of the facility looking for any movement. The small convoy had stopped near the open front gates of the facility. The wrecked hu
lk of a semi-truck provided cover for the parked SUV and Hummer. Hale, Uribe and Cross were crouched down near the front of the big truck scouting out the area. “Lots of bodies spread about. Looks like a small battle was waged here. I see some Nitrex company trucks. The doors open on one of them but I don’t see anything else. No big rigs.“Hale glanced back over at Uribe. “I thought this was supposed to be a secure facility?”
“This doesn’t look too good.” Cross tapped the senior NCO on the shoulder and motioned for him to hand the binoculars to her. Hale nodded then handed them over to her. “Hey, Sarge, looks like mostly Deader corpses.”
“Like a herd? How did I miss that?” Hale said as he stared into the darkness.
“Old.” Cross handed him back the binoculars. “You’re getting old there Sergeant Hale. Eyes are the first thing to go I hear.” She chuckled.
“I wish.” Hale peered through the night vision looking for the body. “What do you think””
“Maybe bad guys pushed some meat sacks forward then raided the plant?”
“Gang bangers, sounds like a good play. Kill the security then pop the meat sacks.” Hale focused in on the first Nitrex company truck. He scanned a guard tower that looked like it had been hit with a grenade. “No lights or movement. The front gates looked like they were blown open. Definitely an attack.”
“Shit.” Uribe shook his head and turned to face the sergeant.
“We go down there and find out what the hell happened. See if they are any survivors or anything salvageable.”
“Company is going to be pissed.” Cross said standing up and dusting off her BDU pants.
“When isn’t the company pissed. It’s all about the money for them.” Hale handed the binoculars to the Lieutenant. “Hopefully, when they were attacked, the plant crew had enough sense to get to a secure area.” Hale told the officer but even as he spoke he knew deep down the crew were probably dead or worse. The sergeant was angry that their whole mission could now be a total bust.
“Well, I hope you are right Sergeant Hale.” Uribe tucked the field glasses into his vest. “If not, I’m reporting you to the Colonel. We could have gotten here faster if it wasn’t for you getting the vehicle stuck in a damn pothole then that Deader furry shit.”
“Shit happens LT. You do know there is an undead apocalypse going on?” Cross glanced over at Hale and smirked.
“You can report whatever you want sir. The question is what the fuck happened here?” The sergeant asked pointedly. “Right now we need to get down there and do our job. I’ll go in with Cross, Doc, Vannelli and Duley. You follow behind with the others. Leave Berry with the vehicles. You also might also want to call the TOC and let them know what’s going on.” The sergeant gave the officer a curt nod then turned and followed Cross back to SUV. Uribe started to say something then realized the sergeant was right. He needed to get on the satphone and let Morgan know they had at least arrived at their destination. As the LT hurried back toward the Hummer he started to think of what damning things he would put in the after-action report and how he would put the blame on Hale for the convoy being late to the mission point.
CHAPTER 32: JUST IN CASE
“Fuel?” The Ranger Franco asked as Cho and Kantner hurried back to the jet. The soldier had been lying underneath the plane watching the rest of the airfield through his night vision gear.
“No.” Kantner replied almost out of breath.
“Not a drop.” Cho shook her head and glanced around. “Why would they send us here if there’s no fuel?”
“Fucking bunch of idiots.” Franco slung his rifle as he joined the others. “What now sergeant?”
“I’ll give Command a call and see what the fuck is up. Captain Testa and the others didn’t sacrifice themselves so we’d end up in bumfuck nowhere sitting on empty.” She started up the ladder into the plane. “Just let me make a call.”
“Sure Sarge.” Franco nodded scanning the area around them.
“Have them send us a new plane too Cho.” Kantner grumbled as he followed the Ranger up the ladder. His legs ached from their futile search of the hangers. “There’s some ice in the freezer. I’m going to have to put some on my knees. You know I'm used to flying big wigs and rock stars around. Once I flew Prince to a concert in LA, man that guy knew how to…” Before the pilot could finish his sentence, a round smashed into the railing next to him. As the pilot started to panic, more bullets started to crash into the stairs. Cho instantly reached back and grabbed the pilot by the shoulder and pulled him inside before he could be struck by one of the shots. Kantner hit the floor of the plane with a groan as the sergeant scrabbled over the top of him headed for the open hatchway.
“Cho!” The pilot shouted over the sounds of gunfire as he rolled onto his side. “What the hell?”
“Get the plane started!” She shouted bringing her rifle up to fire as rounds smacked all around the cabin doorway. “Move us out of here!”
“Shit!” Kantner spat as he quickly crawled toward the cockpit.
Cho, lay low on the floor near the doorway and carefully peered outside. In the dark she saw Franco laying on his back down near the bottom of the stairs. The Ranger had been shot several times and was still returning fire.
“Franco!” Cho shouted, over the roar of the firefight, to the other soldier.
“Get going Sarge!” The other Ranger groaned as he clumsily changed out magazines in his rifle. “Fuckers…” Franco cursed as several more rounds crashed into the tarmac near the wounded soldier.
“Hold on!” Cho shouted as she fired a burst from her rifle in the direction of a muzzle flash. The sergeant crouched down as low as she could get and quickly descended the stairway. Rounds continued to impact next to her as she reached the tarmac. Suddenly the jet’s engines whined to life as Kantner frantically started them up. Cho knelt down besides Franco and tapped him roughly on the shoulder. The injured Ranger glanced back at her and gave her a weak grin.
“Sarge, get your ass out of here!”
“Not gonna happen Franco!” She fired another burst in the direction of their attackers then swiftly slung her rifle. “Come on tough guy.” Cho said as she struggled to put the wiry Ranger in a fireman’s carry.
“Sarge…” Franco was starting to slur his words a little.
“Just hold on!” The smaller soldier said as she staggered up the short stairway into the plane. Grunting and groaning, Cho doggedly moved both of them up the steps. More rounds zipped past them as she tumbled into the jet’s cabin with the badly wounded Franco across her shoulders. The sergeant quickly dropped the wounded Ranger onto the floor as rounds continued to crash into the outside of the plane, Cho hastily crawled over to the hatch and, using both hands, yanked it shut. Dropping hard onto her back, exhausted and adrenalin fading, she used the last of her strength to yell at the pilot.
“Now Kantner! Go Fucking Now!”
“Hey,” Franco chuckled then winced in pain. “that wasn’t too shabby for a damn motor pool sergeant!”
CHAPTER 33: COCKTROUGH
“Shite!” Dolan cursed as he dropped the rifle to his side. From behind the cover of one of the air strip’s hangars he watched the small jet speed off down the runway and into the night sky.
“Guy, I don’t think Mister Black is going to be really happy with you.” Martone smirked as he slung his rifle across his chest. “You keep fingering the pooch.”
“Shut it ya fucking cocktroughs. I don’t need any lip from you. And it’s screwing the pooch not fingering, what kind of sick fuck are ye?” The big Irishman grumbled. Martone just continued to smirk at the lead gun thug knowing that deep down, Dolan was worried that his ticket was gonna get punched for this fuck up. Martone’s plan had been to sneak up on the jet and take the anti-virus. The Irish merc thought killing the soldiers outside the plane would be easier. Diego had had a similar plan earlier and that had ended badly. As the jet roared off into the night, Martone could only quietly chuckle and feel quite pleased with himself.
Sometimes Karma was a real bitch.
“Wait.” Digger said as he changed out the magazine on his MP5. “Ain’t the only reason they down here is cuz they’re outta petrol. Right?”
“Yeah.” Dolan nodded. “Plane was low on juice.”
“Well, see, we just head east.” The Australian mercenary pointed in the direction of the planes’ fading lights. “Bird’s gotta come down somewhere and soon.”
“Listen to you Digger, all using’ your noggin and shite.” Dolan smiled. “Let’s follow the plane, blokes.” The Irishman waved at the other mercenaries, who started to break from cover and head for their vehicles. “You can stow that shit eating grin Martone and don’t even think about pulling on me. Diego had it coming, boss’s orders.”
“I’m good, guy.” The Armenian said as he followed Dolan back to the SUV. Under his breath, he mumbled, “I'm not like those school kids you shot back in Boston.”
“What?” Dolan stopped and turned back to face the Armenian. “What did you say?”
“Nothing Guy, I was just running my mouth. Martone smiled weakly. “You know me always saying shit.”
“Your mouth is gonna get ya killed!” Dolan growled angrily. “How the fuck else were we going to get all that to alcohol, Martone? Kids shouldn't have been hiding in that store in the first place.”
“Too bad they weren't any girls in that group. “Digger lewdly snickered.
“Listen Guy, I just talk shit.” Martone took a step back. “Orders are orders, right?”
“Yeah.” Dolan nodded as he turned back towards the vehicles. The mercenary knew he’d probably have to put the Armenian walking carpet down himself. Dolan couldn’t do it outright because one of the others might take offense and want to exact some kind of revenge, probably Digger. The Aussie was Martone’s closest ally. It would have to happen during a firefight or some other mad minute. Whatever. Martone’s time on earth was short. Besides every time the Armenian called him ‘Guy’ it felt like the hair bag was deeply insulting him.