The Last Line Series One

by David Elias Jenkins

  Usher nodded and readied to jump out of the wreckage. “Well if anything rings a bell in that encyclopaedic mind of yours, let us know.”

  Ariel nodded and extended his good hand. “Best of luck Major.”

  Usher tapped Santiago on the shoulder and they both readied to leap down onto the soft forest ground. As he was about to leap Usher heard Brock call from behind.

  “Don’t want to send you out on a downer boss, but if you need to use a firearm I’d be sparing with the rounds.”

  Usher sighed. “Don’t tell me. The spare magazine containers got lost in the crash.”

  Brock pointed to a gaping hole at the rear of the chopper. “They were strapped in at the back there. Unless they’re in the vicinity, then we have the bullets we already carry and that’s it.”

  Usher smiled at Santiago, who wore his usual expression of nonchalant readiness.

  “Marvellous. See you when we get back.”

  The two soldiers jumped down from the wreckage and into the mist.

  The ground was spongy and thick with pine needles. It squished slightly under Usher’s heavy combat boots. Once they had advanced a few feet the red fog seemed to close in, absorbing and distorting all sounds. Santiago stuck close but even at a few feet away his outline was hazy and vague. Usher’s footfalls sounded deafening in the cloying gloom. He strained ahead to the fuzzy silhouette of the other stricken chopper.

  “Santiago. You hear that?

  Santiago’s dark eyes narrowed and he strained into the murk.

  “Sounds like voices. And something else. That weird sort of burrowing sound. Like uprooting something.”

  “Yeah that’s exactly what it’s like. Bears?”

  “It’s a sad day boss, when we are relieved that the thing out there waiting for us is a bear.”

  Usher smiled, although he felt his palms sweaty and heart racing.

  “Voices. Has to be the other team. We got survivors at least.”

  They trudged on, every sense straining out into the fog. The droplets of moisture clung to their clothing and skin, greasy and metallic smelling.

  “What is this stuff boss? Think Ariel was right, it is like blood. Pretty disgusting if I stop to think about it.”

  “Well let’s not think about it, soldier.”

  The wreckage of the other helicopter was coming clearer into view, its outline like a huge crushed wasp. Usher chanced calling out.

  “Hey! Cavell! Empire Two! It’s Major Usher! Any kickers left in there?”

  They stopped and stood still around fifteen feet from the wreckage. Thick limbs of fog clawed at its husk. Usher glanced behind and could only see the vaguest outline of their own helicopter, unsettlingly far away. Santiago gestured ahead.

  “Boss. Movement.”

  Usher pointed his weapon and took a stable stance as he saw the outlines of several figures approaching them through the mist. He didn’t want to give away their position but he couldn’t risk a blue-on-blue.

  “Identify yourselves!”

  The figures advanced. Usher shook his head. As well as the auditory distortion, the fog seemed to play tricks with perspective and movement. It was impossible to tell if the advancing figures were walking or running, or even how close they really were.

  “Santiago, hold off until you have a positive ID, and if it’s an X-ray then go for the head and count your shots.”

  Santiago knelt on one knee and took up a stable firing position.

  “Si, jefe.”

  They waited agonizingly long seconds as four figures came clearer into view. Usher’s finger slowly moved into the trigger guard of his weapon. He slowed his breathing down and prepared.

  Suddenly a group of familiar faces burst out of the mist in front of them. They were terrified, ragged and injured but it was unmistakably several of the team members of Empire Two. The lead soldier jumped back startled when he saw Usher and raised his arms. Usher saw the fear in his eyes and lowered his barrel.

  “Hey hey it’s us! It’s Usher. You guys ok?”

  The lead soldier took a second to recognize Usher, and then he jerked around and peered behind his men through the fog. His wild face spun back and stared at Usher in horror.

  “Major. They’re all around us. They’re coming out of the ground. For God’s sake run!”

  Usher suddenly realized that these men were too scared looking to just be reeling in shock from the crash. He peered behind them and saw other outlines lurching jerkily through the bloodmist. They were under attack already.

  Marvellous.

  “Get behind us, tactical retreat to our chopper. Is there anyone left in your bird?”

  The shocked soldier shook his head, the grief written in his face. “No one alive, Major.”

  Usher gestured them to move and he retrained his weapon on the nearest blurred target.

  “What are we dealing with soldier? What are they?”

  They shocked Empire Two soldier trained his pistol past his three teammates and shook his head. “Corpses major. They’re fucking corpses!”

  The soldier took a blind step back and Usher suddenly noticed that he was about to step on a small raised mound of earth. Usher’s first thought was that it was a buried landmine.

  “Hold! Don’t move lad, I think you’re next to a…”

  Suddenly the ground beneath the soldier’s feet gave birth to an arm that shot upwards and sunk filthy clawed fingers into his knee. The soldier screamed and fired his pistol downwards into the ground at the emerging thing that clawed its way up his legs and sunk teeth into the flesh of his waist. The screaming soldier emptied his pistol into the emaciated thing but it had already severed important blood vessels in his hips and thighs and he was pouring blood down onto its face.

  Usher leapt forward and with the butt of his carbine smashed the creature’s skull in with two firm strikes. Santiago grabbed it by the arms and wrenched it off, throwing it onto the ground and fired two shots into its ruined head. The young soldier staggered in shock for a few moments and then fell backwards into Usher’s arms, his shredded thighs gushing blood. Usher gazed at the twitching thing on the ground. It looked like a month old corpse, horribly emaciated with protruding nobbled spine and decomposing flesh. On its fingertips were long curved shards of bone like filthy claws and its teeth were like a piranha’s. It was a rancid and diseased looking thing, lean and hungry.

  Santiago leaned in and severed its head with his Soulblade then scooped it up by its lank hair. Usher raised an eyebrow at him

  “Trophy?”

  Santiago winked. “Evidence boss, for Ariel.”

  Usher looked ahead as at least twenty more of the gaunt flesh-rending corpses walked out of the mist towards them. Usher hooked the stricken soldier under his armpit with one hand then rested his carbine over his other shoulder. It wasn’t ideal but it was more stable than nothing.

  “Cover on! Moving!”

  Usher dragged the wounded man as Santiago and the three other soldiers of Empire Two retreated steadily backwards across the sodden earth towards the other helicopter. Every time a creature lurched out of the mist towards them they put a round through its skull. Usher noticed quickly that bullets hitting anywhere else slowed them down but didn’t have stopping power. “Stick to headshots!”

  More and more of the creatures began emerging from the earth, bursting upwards in a shower of earth and stones. Usher suddenly realized that this was the sound they had been hearing through the fog. The birthing of the dead.

  “Watch your footing, they’re coming up everywhere.”

  Santiago dropped to his haunches and punctured the skull of an emerging creature with his Soulblade. It sank back down with an unpleasant gargle.

  “Boss I think it’s the noise. The vibrations that are setting them off. Just like land mines.”

  Usher put a round through the milky eye of another walking corpse that lunged at him from the gloom, baring its tiny jagged teeth. He was hit by the terrible stench from the creature a
s it fell. Beside him the three soldiers of Empire Two were emerging from their initial shock and their training was kicking in. Rather than wild desperate shooting they were taking aim and placing careful shots into skulls. Usher knew they were close to panic, but like him they would keep a lid on it and just sink quietly down into trained responses.

  Santiago called across.

  “They’re coming up faster than we can put them down boss. We need to up the pace.”

  Usher was strong but he was physically struggling to drag the wounded soldier and operate his weapon at the same time. There was no option of ever leaving a man behind, so he just pistoned his legs and increased the pace as much as he could. He was sweating and his legs were burning. Santiago slung his carbine and drew his pistol, using his free arm to help Usher carry the man while slotting anything that came within five feet with a 9mm through its skull.

  Usher nodded his sweating head in gratitude.

  After what felt like an eternity, Usher glanced behind and saw the outline of their own helicopter in the mist. He heard Brock and Stromberg calling out, telling them to veer left. They did as instructed, firing at the creatures in the mist all the way, and watching as more burst from the ground in front of them.

  Suddenly Usher felt strong hands under his arms and he was dragged upwards onto the helicopter. Santiago helped secure the casualty on board and Stromberg assisted the other three soldiers onto the platform. Brock readied his carbine next to Usher and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Got all your fingers and toes boss?”

  “Think so.”

  Brock set his square jaw and slotted the first creatures to get too close to the chopper. “Dra til helvete you fucking pond scum!”

  Danny Stromberg took a kneeling position next to him and began firing in short bursts into the huddled creatures advancing upon them. His face was mask of disgust.

  “Fuck sake mate, you guys start a blue out there? Can’t you just introduce yourself and get along?”

  Usher propped himself up and tried to catch his breath. Ariel had rushed across and was applying first aid to the bleeding soldier, who was writhing a screaming until Ariel injected a shot of morphine into him. Santiago jumped up onto the chopper and slung something at Ariel’s feet.

  “Ok professor, what the fuck are we dealing with?”

  Ariel looked down in horror at the severed head that had landed next to him. He quickly recovered and his look of shock became one of professional curiosity. He adjusted his broken glasses on his face and reached a finger out to gingerly touch the head. After a few moments he spoke.

  “It’s a Carrion I think. A necromantic foot soldier. I read about them in the arcane library at Hereford. Don’t think there’s been anything like this on Earth since about the fourteenth century.”

  “That’s all very interesting Ariel, but how do we avoid them? They just keep coming the more we fight them off.”

  Ariel watched in disgust as the next wave of Carrion lurched out of the fog with their disease ridden fangs bared.

  “From what I’ve read they remain dormant until disturbed. Vibrations or loud noises will wake them up. They’re like a trap for advancing armies. The crash probably set the first wave off, and our guns aren’t helping.”

  Usher crouched at the edge of the platform and took careful aim before taking a crawling Carrion’s head clean off in an explosion of filth.

  “The cat is kinda out the bag in bag in that respect Ariel. I don’t think putting our slippers on now is gonna help.”

  Ariel looked at the advancing hordes creeping out of the mist towards them, jaws gnashing in anticipation.

  “You know Major, I think you may be right. We just have to take out this wave and pray that we get to a point where we haven’t woken any more up.”

  “Well if that’s your scientific opinion Ariel, get shooting, son.”

  Ariel took out his pistol and readied it. He took careful aim at one of the advancing Carrion and pulled the trigger. His first round hit it in the shoulder, causing it to walk it a twisted gait but it did not slow down. His second round skiffed across the creature’s protruding cheekbone, sending a lump of bone flying off into the mist. Usher placed a hand on his back and spoke calmly.

  “Breathe Ariel. Remember your training.”

  Ariel was no true soldier, but he had undertaken a number of intense courses in order to qualify for field ops with the teams. He relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath and then squeezed the trigger.

  His next round went right through the skull of the nearest Carrion and it dropped limply into the mist like a puppet with cut strings.

  “Good lad Ariel. Keep that up, and don’t waste any, we’ve none to spare.”

  Usher was counting his rounds and firing in short bursts but he was acutely aware that there were potentially hundreds of these dangerous and disgusting enemies out there in the mist. The team had only the most basic cover of the helicopter wreckage and extremely poor visibility any more than ten feet in any direction. He was becoming aware of the likelihood of them becoming surrounded.

  “I got poor viz up front here boys. Worried they’re gonna flank us or come from the other side. Who’s got eyes on?”

  Usher heard several short bursts of automatic fire then Isaac’s strained voice from the other side of the helicopter.

  “I’m not dead yet, Thom. Rear is covered. Not as many of them but enough to strip us to the bones I’d wager.”

  Usher glance behind and saw that Isaac had positioned himself at an angle, with his splinted leg supported.

  God he must be in agony even with the morphine. Still shooting straight too. You’re a trooper Isaac. When the shit hits the fan I’m glad you’re with us.

  Usher, Santiago and Ariel were firing in the direction of the other helicopter where the heaviest attack seemed to be coming from. Isaac and Stromberg had the other side, and Charlie and Brock took front and rear. The three soldiers of Empire Two floated between the positions where needed as the attack peaked and troughed in various directions. Jeter had climbed up on top of the helicopter with his sniper rifle and positioned himself across the broken rotor bolt, giving himself a panoramic view of the emerging creatures in all directions. He was carefully swivelling around and providing support wherever the onslaught seemed heaviest.

  Every soldier on the downed helicopter was acutely aware of their situation. They all knew an Alamo scenario when they saw one. Injured and compromised, low on ammunition, minimal cover, unable to pinpoint the enemy until it was almost on top of them. Beneath their training, their hearts were racing, sweat lashed from them and only adrenaline stopped their injuries from overcoming each of them.

  Brock called from the rear.

  “They’re increasing on this side. Getting closer by the second boss.”

  Charlie called out from the smashed cockpit.

  “In a right fuckin two-and-eight up front too. These dirty bastards don’t wanna go down. They’re gonna be on us in about two minutes at this rate, boys.”

  Isaac groaned in pain as he shifted to take out a cluster of Carrion that had managed to clamber onto the strewn wreckage only a few feet from his position.

  “Major. I don’t think we can hold this position. There’s too many. Bug out and go, I’ll buy you time.”

  Usher slotted two more hissing Carrion then turned his head to Isaac.

  “Fuck. That. Soldier.”

  “It’s some of us or all of us Thom! Gather what you can and go!”

  Isaac’s right, we can’t hold them off. But I am fucked if I’m gonna hand any of my men over to these walking corpses. We go down together or not at all.

  “I’m not being sentimental Isaac I’m being practical. We need you, and every good shot that we have if we want to get out of this. No heroic sacrifices, not yet. Ok, ready yourselves, which side is the attack the weakest?”

  Isaac called out. “Seems thinnest on my side, but it’s no picnic.”

  Usher pointed to
the badly wounded soldier they had rescued from the other chopper.

  “Ok Stromberg, if there’s a mobile stretcher intact under the med-box, grab it and get this guy on it. Santiago, help get Isaac to his feet and get him moving until we can find something for a crutch. Charlie, can you safely get the pilot out of that seat?”

  “Not bloody likely boss. He’s passed out. If I move him it’ll probably kill him. That wreckage is all that’s keeping him together right now.”

  Usher cursed under his breath but knew there was little option. “If we leave him here he dies anyway, we have to chance it. No way can we get an evac here anyway. We need to get to high ground above this fog, we’ll have a better chance to defend ourselves there too.”

  In between bouts of firing, the team gathered the equipment they needed and any spare magazines they could find. They secured their positions and waited for Usher’s signal.

  Suddenly the smash of glass was heard from the front and Charlie shouted out.

  “They rushed us boys, they’re on the chopper!”

  Usher turned to see several of the creatures shattering the remains of the cockpit window with their dirty claws and start to crawl inside. Charlie held his ground, protecting the stricken pilot Jim Taylor, and slotting each Carrion that appeared at point blank range. He gave a battle cry of rage with each round.

  Jim Taylor suddenly woke up. His eyes were as wide as saucers, staring terrified at the unholy creatures climbing in the broken window only feet from his face. In a panic Jim reached for the pistol strapped to his thigh but his hands were weak and uncoordinated. He raised his weapon just as the first Carrion reached him and desperately emptied the magazine into its body.

  “Keep back. Holy Jesus keep them back!”

  One of the undead predators reached in a grabbed Jim Taylor by his flight suit, slowly dragging the crippled man forward and out of the window. Jim beat the creature with his pistol but its claws dug further into his chest. “Help me. For God sake somebody help me!”

  Charlie slung his carbine and in one swift motion drew the Soulblade from his thigh and severed the creature’s arms in one stroke. It fell back out of the chopper but more clambered over it and in seconds Jim was lost beneath a writhing carpet of rotten bodies and clawed limbs. Charlie continued to hack away at the creatures swarming the poor pilot but when he saw one of them tear out his throat with jagged teeth he knew the game was up.