by Allen Gamboa
“Let's see if we can bring them to us.” The sergeant whispered. Cross nodded as she dropped to a knee. Hale gave the rail next to him a hard kick sending a loud metallic clang throughout the upper floor. The sergeant repeated the action hoping to draw the undead out into the open. Under the din of the music came the now all too common sounds of the hungry dead. Along with the terrible moans came the rank odor of decaying flesh.
“I hope they're not fast movers.” Cross swallowed as the first couple of deaders stumbled out of the closest office. The redhead squeezed the trigger and one of the skin eaters head exploded. With that the rooms all let out a flood of fast moving corpses. All of them ravenous for live human flesh.
“Really?” Hale started to fire into the wave of deaders that poured into the narrow hallway. The only thing that kept the undead from overrunning the two was their clumsiness. As each Deader that was shot fell, they somehow managed to trip some of the others.
“I thought you were going to say it was ‘too quiet’. You ever not say what's on your mind?”
“Oh, yeah.” Cross shot two more deaders that charged in their direction. “Lots of times.”
From behind Hale came several loud growling noises. The sergeant looked behind him to see a group of hungry dead crawling up the stairs in their direction. Hale had never seen deaders successfully navigate stairs before. “Aw, shit!” Hale dropped the empty magazine out of his rifle and slammed in another. “We have meat sacks coming up the stairs now!” Cross looked back over her shoulder then returned fire on the quickly approaching dead. The whole scene reminded her of a crowd of drunken frat boys vying for the front row at a wet t-shirt contest. Only difference between them and the dead was a pulse. Both wanted your flesh.
“I think this is what you call a Chinese circle jerk!” Cross shot another Deader in the throat decapitating him in the process. His rotting head exploded against the chest of an undead female. The dead woman stumbled a little from the impact and slid to the floor in the splits. Unable to get back up, she caused three deaders to stumble over her and crash to the floor. Two of them quickly recovered and continued to crawl in the contractor's’ direction. As the hallway deaders grew closer, Hale swiftly turned and shot several of the ones crawling up the stairs. Those deaders he stopped were instantly climbed over by the desperate others.
“Doc!” Hale shouted into his headset. “A little help up here!”
Suddenly the music stopped for a few merciful seconds then it started up again. This time Exiles ‘I Wanna Kiss You All Over’ echoed throughout the interior of the manufacturing plant.
“I actually like this song!” Cross shouted as she reloaded and the hungry deaders closed in on both sides. She remembered it from some long-ago Adam Sandler movie, back when he was funny. Cross really hoped it wouldn't be the last music she'd ever hear in this world. And why the fuck was she thinking about Adam Sandler?
CHAPTER 42: WE'VE HAD WORSE DAYS
“Man, it stinks.” Vannelli mumbled into his headset.
“Never get used to that smell.” Duley agreed as he followed the other contractor down the narrow first floor hallway. Doc had the lead and he put up a hand to signal for them to stop.
“Kinda smells like your old lady's bedroom, don't it?” Doc glanced back at the other two and grinned. Before Duley could answer, the medic signaled for him to be quiet and pointed toward the open office doorway. “Watch me, I'm going in.” Doc stepped sideways into the opening being sure to make himself as small a target as possible. He swiftly swept the room with his gun light, found it empty except for two well used steel tables. Doc flashed the light on the cool table tops, the beam highlighting the rows of pill containers that lay sprawled across the tabletop. Dozens of different types of pills were scattered about.
“What the fuck?” Doc said to himself as he picked up a couple of unopened bottles that were full of pills. “Norco? Vicodin? Why the fuck didn’t they take this shit?” Still puzzled by his find, Doc gave the others the ‘clear’ signal then proceeded to move to the next room. From the other end of the unlit hallway, a shadowy figure emerged and ran at full sprint toward the three contractors. Without hesitating they moved almost as one aiming their weapons in the charging figures direction.
“Hold up!” The man shouted. “Don't fucking shoot!” He screamed and waved his hands out in front of him.
“Hold!” Doc told the others as the man ran into the section of hall that was lit emergency lights. The medic instantly recognized the crazed man. “It's Speedy!”
“What the hell?” Vannelli lowered his rifle.
“Guys.” Speedy slid to his knees in front of the trio. Out of breath and near tears the younger contractor tried to speak. “I…I…”
“Just take it easy.” Doc said grabbing his shoulder to help steady him. “Vannelli, keep watch.”
“Roger that.” Vannelli said as he slipped past Speedy and took up a position farther down the hall.
“Watch our asses Duley.”
“On it.” Duley said turning to watch the rear of the corridor. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw the medic giving the panicked contractor a quick once over. “He okay Doc?”
“Define okay brother.” Doc said trying to see if Speedy had any obvious bites or wounds.
“Right, right.” Duley nodded returning his attention back to the hallway.
“What the hell happened Speedy? Where's the others?”
“I don't know.” With the medics help Speedy stood up on wobbly legs. Doc could see his clothes were ripped and torn and he was scratched up but no signs of bites. “Banjo went into one of the rooms and next thing I know he's shooting and a shit load of Dead come running out!” He wiped some sweat off his face. Speedy’s eyes were filled with fear and he couldn't stop shaking. “They had us in the hallway. I…lost it.” He looked down at his blood splattered boots. “I broke away and ran. Lost my rifle.” He covered his face in his hands and started sobbing. “There were so many of them…it’s… It’s like they were waiting.”
“It's okay Speedy.” Doc said calmly. “Shit happens. Where are the LT and Finn?”
“I don't know…” Speedy shook his head and snot and tears flew about. “There were all these teeth, fingers and the music…” He covered his face again. “I just ran!”
Doc let out a sigh and looked back over to where Duley stood watch. He could tell by the black man's body language that he had heard all of Speedy’s pitiful story. The medic had seen many cases like this where team members had fallen apart and ran off. Hell, that had happened in Oregon when they'd hooked up with a small Reserve unit. The officer in charge had ran screaming into his own firing line at the sight of a thousand, hungry, charging deaders. At least the soldier’s bullets were far more merciful than the flesh eaters would have ever been. Shit, a big swarm of ravenous undead coming at you would make anyone shit their pants. Doc couldn't count how many times he almost crapped his own Fruit of the Looms. Now he had to chill Speedy out before the kid freaked out everyone else. Fear could sometimes be contagious. The medic knew for sure he could count on Duley and Vannelli to hold their mud when the shit hit the fan and that gave him some comfort.
“Pull yourself together Speed. You're okay now.”
“No…no it's not okay.” Speedy pleaded as he glanced back and forth down the hallway.
“We gotta go! They'll be coming!”
Before Doc could answer him, the distant thump of automatic rifle fire came from the floor above them. Hearing that sound, Speedy turned to run. Doc easily grabbed him by the back of his tac vest and pulled him backwards. Hale's voice crackled across their headsets.
“Doc.” Urgency in the sergeant’s voice. “We need a little help here!”
Gripping the frightened Speedy by the vest, Doc was about to respond when Vannelli shouted from the front of the hallway.
“Guys! “He glanced back at the other three. “Guys, we got deaders!”
“We need to go!” Speedy shrieked as he twis
ted out of Doc's grip and turned to run towards Duley. Momentarily forgetting the frightened young man, the medic brought his rifle up into combat position as Vannelli quickly sidestepped back to where Doc stood. The smell and the terrifying moaning was upon them before any of the deaders were visible.
“There was at least ten or more!” Vannelli said taking a kneeling firing position.
“Let's waste these fucks then go save Cross and the Sarge.” Doc nodded as he waited for the first wave of deaders to stumble into view.
“Speedy comeback!” Duley shouted as the contractor blew past him. Speedy got a few feet farther down the hall then almost immediately spun around and ran back in Duley’s direction. The fleeing contractor continued to scream his head off as he ran at them.
“Oh, come on!” Duley shouted as Speedy took cover behind him. The comic book loving contractor quickly caught sight of what had sent Speedy hightailing it back in his direction. Another group of slow moving deaders were heading at them from the rear of the hallway.
“Doc, I got pus bags inbound!” Duley raised his rifle up to his shoulder and shot the lead Deader in the jaw. With half of its face was blasted off, the flesh eater kept advancing. Duley fired once more destroying the rest of the corpses head.
“We've had worse days!” Doc grinned as the deaders ahead of him charged. At that moment, Doc truly knew he had picked the wrong day to quit smoking.
CHAPTER 43: BAGEL BOYS LAST STAND
Outside the Nitrex Plant
Cherry Berry fell backwards on the broken asphalt as he struggled to pull up his jumpsuit. The ex TSA agent realized he hadn't finished going to the bathroom and now from the waist down he was splattered with his own diarrhea. Normally this would have sent him into an endless chorus of dry heaves but now was not the time. Berry struggled into the rest of his jumpsuit and with trembling fingers zipped it up. Hungry deaders were swiftly crawling across the uneven roadway looking to make a meal of him. Diarrhea and all. Rolling onto his stomach he got to his knees and jumped to his feet. Breathing like he'd just finished a marathon, Berry glanced over his shoulder in time to see at least two dozen fast moving deaders leap to their feet and sprint at him. Nobody liked fast movers.
Cherry Berry heard someone let out a high-pitched scream. As he made a break for it, Cherry Berry hoped whomever was screaming would shut up. As he tried to outrun the charging flesh eaters, Cherry Berry realized he'd been the one screaming. With legs that felt like bags of cement he ran towards the vehicles. Slobbering and growling dead were swiftly starting to close in on him. Still screaming, Berry almost ran into the rear of the Humvee. A claw like hand grabbed Berry by his harness and jerked him down to his knees. Hearing the slobbering snapping of broken teeth, Berry frantically twisted out of the deaders shaky grip. He spun around and came face to face with the handsy flesh eater. Berry could make out it was once a female, probably a doctor or nurse from the remains of her medical scrubs. Her entrails hung loosely from a big gaping hole in her stomach. The putrid smell of her insides made Berry sick and he instantly vomited in her face. The hungry corpse did not seem to be bothered by Berry’s lunch being splattered all over her face as she sprang at him. The bagel enthusiast screamed and quickly dodged out of her way as she struck the hard rear of the Humvee cracking her head open in the process. Sara, as the name tag on her bloody scrubs read, let out a gurgle and died a second time. In a panic and only thinking he wanted to live, Berry swiftly climbed over the back of the Humvee and scrambled up into the turret. The first group of pursuing deaders slammed into the big vehicle with such a force that it caused the Humvee to rock. The sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh replaced the moans as the dead ran into the vehicle with almost deadly force. Still these post mortem injuries didn't deter the undead from trying to climb up the vehicle and the delicious treat hiding inside.
Berry sat huddled inside the Humvee hoping the flesh eaters would go away. Forget he was inside. The more he waited the more they grew agitated. The pounding on the windows and the rocking of the Humvee was starting to get to him. He could hear the deaders smash on the vehicle with broken hands. The meat sacks were hungry and he was just Spam in a Can. The haunting moaning and feral growls were growing louder and louder. Berry didn't know if it was all that or the smell of his own shit or the thought of being known as a bagel fucker forever. Something in him snapped.
“Fuck you fuck-itty fuck fuckers!” He rattled off as he jumped to his feet and climbed into the Humvees turret. Berry had only been trained on the M240 once before and he was more than happy that Banjo had left the gun loaded. Seeing Cherry Berry in the turret, the crowd of flesh eaters started to become even more frenzied, rocking the vehicle even harder than before.
“Eat me you bitches!” Cherry Berry screamed releasing all of his pent-up fear and humiliation. The green contractor pulled back the charging handle of the big gun then fired on the surrounding deaders. Cherry Berry screamed a whole thesaurus of profanity as he rained lead hell down on his undead attackers. Hot brass filled the interior of the Humvee as he unloaded round after round on the flesh eaters. Body fluids, bone fragments and flesh splattered the outside of the vehicle. Black blood and pieces of skin splashed Berry's face and hair. Once the M240 was empty, Berry, still cursing and screaming, grabbed up the old M-16 that Banjo had kept in the turret and finished off any of the deaders that still moved. Once the bolt on the M-16 locked back, Cherry Berry dropped the empty rifle to his side and carefully peered out over the turret. As black blood dripped down his cheeks Berry could see he'd been able to re-kill the group of deaders that had attacked him. Unmoving corpses lay across the rear and hood of the Humvee. Body parts and entrails were scattered all over the sides of the rig.
The whole world smelled like a slaughter house. As he looked closer Berry could see the rest of the flesh eaters were splayed all around the road beneath the vehicle. All of them were re-dead.
Wiping the Deader blood and flesh from his face Cherry Berry slid back down inside the Humvee and quietly started to sob. The adrenalin that had prompted him to live suddenly came crashing down hard.
CHAPTER 44: HERD MENTALITY
Camp FedEx
Morgan sat outside on the steps that led to his office staring thoughtfully at the burning cigarette in his hand. It had been several years since he'd stopped smoking, in fact he'd quit right after he got the call that Ginger had died. A simple fucking surgery gone wrong had taken the life of the women he loved. Morgan took a long drag savoring the taste, then quickly dropped the butt down by his feet where he crushed it out with his well-worn Danner. His first instinct had been to field strip the remains but fuck it. He wasn't a lifer. The security contractor glanced down at the bag that lay next to him. Doc's whole supply of smokes were contained inside the blue plastic bag. Nowadays the stash inside the recycled sack was worth a lot in money and trade.
Morgan finished grinding the cigarette into a black smear and glanced out into the well-lit compound. When Ginger died, he stopped smoking and fell into a bottle. Linwood Morgan never really thought of himself a weak man but the loss of his first wife had almost destroyed him. Climbing out of the bottle was the best thing he'd ever done.
“Hey Major, “Blackburn leaned out of the open office doorway. “Redwood’s team is in the air.”
“ETA?”
“Aw, crap, I’ll find out.” The communications man slapped himself on the forehead.
“Thanks.” Morgan shook his head in frustration. Why the Colonel kept him around was a mystery. “Any word from Uribe’s team?”
“No and I've been trying.”
“Keep on it.” Morgan stood and scooped up the bag. “If you need me I’ll be at the Colonel's office.”
“Yes sir.” Blackburn said as he disappeared back into the building. Morgan stepped down into the halogen lit courtyard and walked over to where a big dumpster was positioned. A couple of other contractors passed the officer as they headed towards their posts at the barriers. Both men acknowled
ged the Major with a curt nod. Even though it was a paramilitary outfit, no one saluted. Morgan liked it that way. As he lifted the heavy dumpster lid he heard the loud boom of a .50 caliber rifle. Dropping the cigarette bag inside the garbage can, he slowly closed the lid so to not make a loud clang. Another boom from the .50 cal defeated any attempt at being quiet. Morgan grabbed the small two-way radio off his harness and clicked it on.
“Command 2, SitRep?” He spoke into the radio.
“Tower one.” A female voice crackled across the tiny speaker. “This is Sergeant Williams sir, I had two deaders over near the north barrier.”
“Had?” Morgan frowned and glanced over to where Tower one was located.
“Yes Major, ‘had’.” Morgan heard Williams pull back the bolt on her sniper rifle. “Had?” The commander smiled to himself. “Anything else?”
“Copeland just rolled in, he said they saw a good-sized herd of dead about ten miles out.”
“They headed this way?” Morgan asked, concerned.
“He said they were stumbling about all over the place not in any particular order.”
“Keep me posted. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll pass us by.”
“Roger that. “Williams said.
“I want Holmes up in the tower with you. An extra set of eyes can't hurt.” Morgan knew the 4’11” sniper didn't need any help. Hell, she was the best sniper the company had. Holmes was no slouch with a rifle either. If something was brewing outside, those two would be on it.
“Sir, what about Todd?” Williams asked.
“Get him up on the wall with the 240. Those meat sacks decide to take us on I want Todd to help thin ‘em out.”