by Allen Gamboa
“Yes sir.”
Morgan glanced back up at the tower and pursed his lips together. Something in his gut wasn't sitting right. The camp had been attacked by herds of dead before and they had been able to repel them without any major losses or damages. Morgan just had a bad feeling about this. The Major turned and quickly walked back into the TOC. Morgan noticed Blackburn’s door was shut. The Major wanted to give Hale a heads up on what was happening so he pulled the door open figuring Blackburn had stepped out for a smoke.
“What the fuck?” Morgan as startled at the sight of the communication injecting himself in the arm with a syringe.
“Aw, shit.” Blackburn looked up from the needle in his heavily tracked arm and said calmly. “I thought I locked that door.”
“What the fuck Blackie?”
“Major…I …I There's something I need to talk to you about.” The contractor said unable to meet Morgan’s eyes.
“Abso-fucking-lutely you do.” The Major said gritting his teeth at the junkie.
“Sir,” Blackburn’s voice was in a thick Krokidil fueled haze. “I fucked up.”
CHAPTER 45: NO BUENO
Nitrex Plant
Hale and Cross found themselves swarmed on both sides by the hungry undead. As the slobbering flesh eaters grew closer and closer, both of the security operators went back to back. For every one Hale shot on the stairs, two more would take its place. He couldn’t keep the ravenous monsters from clawing their way up the stairs and over the re-killed corpses of the others.
“Gettin' a little close here Sarge! You got any ideas?” Cross shouted as she fired off the last round in her M4. A Deader three feet from her collapsed as she dropped the rifle in her sling and drew her Beretta. The red head fired three shots stopping two more of the undead.
“Yeah, don't get bit!”
“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind!”
“Switch with me!” Hale shouted as he slung his rifle and pulled out his sidearm. “Now!”
“Oh, shit!” Like a pair of long time dance partners, the two contractors deftly switched positions, not missing a beat. Cross now faced the stairs and Hale had the hallway full of growling deaders.
“Stick on my back!” Hale said as he shot two more of the approaching Dead. The sergeant figured if Doc and the others hadn’t reached them yet or answered, they were also in trouble.
“I'm pushing forward!”
“Just call me glue Sarge!” Cross said firing on the undead that were crawling up the stairs.
“Now!” Hale shouted as he moved forward through the crowd of moving and unmoving corpses. There was no real choice but to go straight ahead. There were so many bodies on the stairs it would be too easy to trip and then that would be it. Gun up, the sergeant moved briskly through the mass of dead, he could feel Cross’s back against his as they moved. The Beretta magazine quickly emptied and he reloaded. More flesh eaters piled into the hallway grabbing and snapping their teeth at him. With his right hand, he shot those that he could in the head. With a Kevlar gloved left hand he shoved others away. Black blood and flesh splattered his face and jumpsuit. Still, through this nightmarish mess he was making some headway. Right now, he really wished he had some grenades. Hell, right now he wished he was anywhere else but here. Shoving another Deader that had gotten in closer than he'd like, Hale shot the flesh eater in the head then smashed the Beretta across the face of another sending it crashing backwards. Cross tried to keep up on Hale's back as he advanced down the corridor. As she continued to fire at the deaders on the stairs Cross knew she couldn’t stop them all. There were far too many skin bags ahead and behind them to escape. Several of the flesh eaters had been able to get to their feet and sprint in her direction. Cross swiftly changed out magazines in her sidearm and continued to fire. The redhead hoped the others were faring much better than they were.
CHAPTER 46: JOHN WAYNE
Nitrex Plant
“Where do we go now?” Duley asked as he helped jam another big office desk against the thick steel door. Dead hands relentlessly pounded on the other side trying desperately to get in. The four contractors had barely been able to fight their way out of the hallway and into the closets secure room.
“We can’t stay here!” Speedy sobbed. “We can’t stay here!”
“Well, that's the first smart thing you've said since you stopped bawling.” Vannelli said giving the contractor a disgusted look.
Bam! Bam! Hands banged against the steel making Speedy jump. Duley slumped down in a chair and took a deep breath. The ex-infantryman had a big tear in the left sleeve of his jumpsuit, the skin beneath it sported some really bad scratches. The contractor was thankful the virus was only spread through bites.
“You got a plan Doc?”
“How many mags you got left?” The medic asked. The medic's jumpsuit legs were almost in shreds. The hard knee pads and shin guards had kept him from sustaining any really bad tears.
“Four,” Duley checked his ammo pouches. “five.”
“You?” He asked Vannelli.
“Uh..six. Two for my Glock.” Vannelli wiped some blood from the many abrasions on his face.
“Good. I say we use these tables as cover and let the bastards in.”
“John Wayne it, huh?” Vannelli chuckled nervously. “Like in that flick ‘The Alamo’?”
“No…” Speedy shook his head.
“That's one-way Doc,” Duley nodded towards the top of the far wall. “Or we can just evac.” The others saw Duley motion to the cheap aluminum air vent cover on the wall.
“Oh yeah,” Doc clapped his gloved hands together. “That'll do it.” The medic slid a chair under the air vent. The dead outside continued their nonstop pounding on the door causing it to vibrate and shake. Doc stood up on the chair and started working on pulling the vent cover loose.
“This isn't worth it.” Speedy covered his face in his hand and started sobbing. “It's not worth it!”
“Speedy,” Duley leaned forward and grabbed him hard on the shoulder. “we'll get outta here brother. Pull it together man.”
Speedy glanced up at him with wet, red rimmed, eyes. “I'm sorry bro.”
“Bout what?” Speedy just shook his head and covered his face. Duley leaned back against the wall and let out a breath. He figured Speedy was sorry about losing his shit. ‘Well, not everyone was built for this shit’ he thought to himself as the dead hands continued to slam the outside of the door.
“Got it!” Doc grunted as the vent cover crashed to the floor. Using his gun light, he checked out the darkened opening, making sure no meat eaters were inside. “Looks clear! I hope you guys aren't claustrophobic?” He asked glancing back at the others.
“Would it matter if I was?” Vannelli asked as he got to his feet.
“Not really.” Doc secured his rifle tightly against his chest then drew his pistol. “Vannelli you follow me, Speedy next, Duley you got rear.”
“Story of my life.” Duley chuckled as he stood up.
CHAPTER 47: THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND
Black's Compound
The bone saw came to a sudden halt in the middle of the screaming man's thigh. The wails of pain were muffled by the thick gag around his mouth. Black cursed as the facilities power flickered on and off. The bone saw again whirred to life and continued to cut through the man's flesh and bone. Angry at the imperfect cut made by the momentary power outage, Black jerked the tool free, splashing blood all over the work table and his apron. The subject on the table screamed at the abrupt cut and removal of the saw. Black impatiently dropped the tool onto the operating tray and placed a gloved finger over the moaning man's gag covered lips.
“Enough!” He grabbed the man's right cheek. “It's just a flesh wound.” Black smirked as he turned back to his tool tray and removed a tourniquet from the clutter of instruments. Annoyed at the recent spate of minor blackouts, the Billionaire hastily attached the tourniquet to the man's thigh. “Can't have you bleeding out on me before we're do
ne.” Black smiled and patted him on the wounded thigh. The phone in his apron pocket buzzed. Black shucked his rubber gloves and pulled the phone out. “Don't mean to be rude but I have to take this.” Black said to the man on the table. “Speak.” He said into the phone.
“Sir,” Kubicek said on the other end. “Can you talk?”
Black glanced down at the man sobbing helplessly on the table. Suddenly a Muzak version of ‘Thank You for Being a Friend’ drifted out of his expensive speakers. The music system had reset itself after the power failure. Black smiled as the Muzak worked its calming powers on him.
“This better be worth my time.” He walked over to the head of his cutting table. The man strapped to it stared at him through wide, teary eyes.
“Maybe.” Kubicek whispered. Annoyed, Black picked up a scalpel. The man on the table whimpered at this.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.” Kubicek said quietly.
“Then why are you whispering?” Black slammed the scalpel down next to the man's face. The man managed a muffled scream.
“Sorry.” Kubicek said in a normal tone.
“Sorry doesn't mean shit to me.” Black pulled the scalpel free from the table. “Now what is it?”
“The Nitrex plant was attacked and looted.”
“What happened?” Black asked staring at the scalpel blade.
“Probably gangbangers from what I could gather from Mallini’s call. An outside element came in play. Anyway, that doesn't really matter. Problem is we lost all that product.”
“Well, “Black stabbed the table near the man's ear. “I guess we can expect some losses. We can always make more product. How about Dolans team?”
“No answer. We have to assume they are still in pursuit.”
“Okay,” Black slammed the scalpel down again. “Okay. Assume is not an answer Kubicek.” Black jammed the scalpel down, blood squirted across his face. “Did the plane go down?”
“Yes.” Black could hear him swallow nervously. “We have reason to believe the package is safe, though.”
“Hmm. Any idea where?”
“Yes, we have coordinates within two miles.”
“Good. Call Baasch and give him the information. My men are driving around with their thumbs up their asses right now.”
“Yes sir.”
“Any word on the other trials?”
“No, the CDC flopped on their test.” Kubicek told him. “Hawaii might have something but I wouldn’t trust it. No really good news.”
“Now, if you still want to be a Senator, in the near future, don’t call me unless you have some good news.”
“Yes…”
Black clicked off the phone and dropped it back into his apron pocket. Blood, dripping from his cheeks, he glanced down at the moaning man on the table. “Forgive me. Business.” As Black yanked the scalpel from the man's left cheek it made a horrible sucking sound. The man strapped to the table made a feral whimpering noise, his mind lost to fear and pain.
“Now let's get back to it, shall we?”
CHAPTER 48: SOUNDS LIKE A PERSONAL PROBLEM
Nitrex Plant
When Hale had fired the last round in his Beretta he slammed the handgun into the mouth of the Deader that was trying to bite his chest. Teeth and bone and flesh were shredded by the hard metal of the handgun. Hale Shoved the pistol deeper into the flesh eaters putrid mouth, knocking the Deader onto its back. Smoothly drawing the tactical tomahawks from each side of his belt, the big sergeant smashed the Deader on the forehead re killing it. Hale slashed another across the mouth. The cut caused the top part of its head to flop open. The Deader made a weird hissing sound as it continued to blindly swipe at Hale. The sergeant kicked the meat sack in the gut sending it to the floor where it's damaged head was squished into a black paste in the feeding frenzy of its undead brothers and sisters.
“I'm empty!” Hale growled as he continued to hack and slash at the attacking deaders. Black blood splashed his face as he fought back against the ravenous crowd.
“Sounds like a personal problem!” Cross nervously grinned as she used her sidearm to blast the encroaching dead. The red head knew she was running low on ammo. Once her ammo was out she was down to her machete and she sucked with the machete. “Better find us any exit Boss!”
“Thought had crossed my mind!” Hale shouted as he uses the tops of his tomahawks to shove a Deader back against another flesh eater. Both of the slobbering dead tumbled over each other and ended up in a small pile on the floor. Hale slashed both in the head and moved forward, Cross close behind. The large mass of deaders were starting to thin out. The big sergeant was starting to grow tired as he hacked at more of the unforgiving cannibals.
CHAPTER 49: REALLY BAD GUYS
On the Road
“No joy guy!” Martone said as he leaned out of the open door of the downed Lear jet. Through his night vision gear, he could see the grainy image of Dolan and the others. The Armenian swore he could see heat rising from the angry lead mercenaries head. “Nothing guy, all gone.”
“Shite!” Dolan cursed as Martone descended the plane’s stairway. “Fucking bloody ‘ell!”
“Still warm Dolan.” Digger said patting the battered fuselage. “Can't be far.”
“Well no shite Digger!” The mercenary commander raised his hands in frustration. “But where the ‘ell are they?”
“Look for the easiest route outta here guy.” Martone said glancing around the broken landscape.
“We don't have a whole lotta time ya know.”
“Fraid of getting fired like Diego?” Martone smirked.
“Fuck your airbag!” Dolan nervously scanned their surroundings. “We fuck up we're all gonna end up like Diego!”
“Hey!” Cutter, another of the mercenaries, approached the wreckage pushing a small group of people with him. “I think I got something.”
“What the bloody ‘ell is this?” Dolan asked as he shoved the group forward with the barrel of his rifle.
“Found them hiding.” Cutter grinned as he slid the camouflage cowboy hat back on his head. Dolan frowned as he casually walked over to where Cutter held the four at gunpoint. The mercenary could see three young girls and an older man.
“Look,“the man said raising his hands in supplication. “we don’t want any trouble.”
“Neither do we.“Dolan told him. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello ladies.” Digger said as he lewdly grinned at the young girls.
“Keep it in your pants Digger.” Dolan glared at the Aussie. “Now what are you doing here?”
“Look man, we don't want any problems!”
“Hmmm.” Dolan impatiently rolled his eyes. ‘Why can't anything ever be easy?’ He thought to himself before he jammed the rifle barrel under the man’s chin. The girls screamed as Dolan gripped him by his shirt collar.
“Now…again…what…are…you…doing…here?”
“We…” The man swallowed nervously, eyes wide in fear. “We broke down on our way to the Southern Safe Zone. Th…these are m..my daughters! Please, please don't hurt them!”
“How old are they?” Digger eagerly asked.
“Shut up guy.” Martone warned. “We don’t have time for your bullshit.” Digger looked hurt at that but continued to hungrily eye the three teenagers.
“Did you see the plane here crash?” Dolan asked.
“Yes!” The man looked over at his daughters who were huddled together, shaking. He knew he should have left for the Safe Zone months ago, but they'd seemed to be safe on the ranch.
“Come back to me! “Dolan jerked the man out of his thoughts.
“We ran out of gas and pulled off to siphon some when the plane flew overhead and then crashed.” He anxiously looked over at his frightened daughters. “Please don't hurt them! It's my fault!”
“Enough.” Dolan tightened his grip. “What did ya see?”
“By the time we got to…to the crash site they were leaving. I think there were
six of them.” He swallowed. “Soldiers mostly, they got into a black SUV and headed west. We tried to catch up with them…”
“Six soldiers. “Dolan looked over at Martone and frowned. “The more the merrier.”
“At least we have some actionable info, guy.”
“Ye,” Dolan released his grip on the man and turned to the others, the irony of their discarded SUV being used as the instrument of escape totally lost on them. “Let’s go!”
“What about them?” Digger asked as he licked his lips. Dolan glanced over at Martone and gave him a curt nod. The Armenian mercenary drew his Glock and pointed it in the girl’s direction.
“No! Run girls!” The man shouted as he made a last-ditch attempt to save his daughters by trying to tackle Martone. Dolan shot the man in the back of the head before he could reach the other mercenary. The teenagers screamed and tried to run away from the mercenaries. Martone took quick aim and casually shot all three.
“Damn Martone!” Digger walked over to where one of the teenagers lay moaning with a bullet wound in her back. “You got ice in your veins. Ya coulda saved one of the girls for me.” He smirked and bent down pushing a strand of hair out of the dying girl’s face. “Well, hell. This one is still breathing. Give me five minutes’ fellas.” The wounded girl screamed and stabbed Digger hard in the foot. The Aussie screamed in pain as he reared back and kicked the girl in the head, pulling out his pistol. “You bitch!” He shouted as he fired three rounds into her head. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
“Guy,” Martone bent down and started to rifle through one of the dead girls’ backpacks.
“you going to let a little girl kick your ass?”
“I…I just wanted a bit o fun!” Digger groaned as he pulled the blade from his boot. Blood spurted out across the leather. “Aw, fuck it hurts! “
“Come on ya fucks! Quit dicking around and get moving! “Dolan shouted as he watched Cutter and the Armenian strip the dead girls of their possessions. “We fuck this up Martone, someone else will be stealing your shit!”