Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night

by Guenther, David

  “Sir, Operation Phoenix was a joke. It was an excuse for me to go fly-fishing in Wyoming, and visit my kids from my first marriage. I didn’t think we’d ever have to start over on a clean slate.” Peters argued back.

  “Willy Pete, I want to see your hairy ass off my base in one hour. Try to save as many of our troops as possible. Now, the correct response from you will be…” The general shook for a minute as though he was having an epileptic seizure. He then sat quietly for a minute with his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, the pupils were fully dilated, none of his blue iris was any longer visible. He started to drool while looking off into the space.

  “General Tullos?” Peters asked nervously. He reached his hand out to shake the general’s shoulder. Tullos shrieked, opening his mouth to bite at the hand. A silver-tipped guidon pole slammed into his mouth, breaking teeth as it continued out the back of his skull, pinning him to the chair. The general just seemed to wilt before he lost control of his body.

  An airman stood before General Peters, pulling the guidon pole out of Tullos’ mouth. “Sir, he ordered me to stay by him for when this happened. He knew he only had hours left and didn’t want to hurt anyone. Do you have any orders, sir?”

  Peters choked back the urge to puke as well as the tears for his dear old friend and mentor. “Listen up everybody, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Major General Peters, I was Vice Commander of Space Command. I’m now assuming command. In two hours we will abandon our position here with the exception of those who have been wounded and possibly infected. Those personnel will man their stations until they turn. The rest of us will find transportation, and transfer those supplies in the loading bay to an aircraft and depart for a destination in Wyoming to set up operations again. Chief McMullen, detail people to call the CP (command post), MOC (maintenance operations Center), transportation, the armory, and anyone else you can think of. I want the word spread we are evacuating the base. We will all meet at base ops to find aircraft for the evacuation at 0400 hrs. I want you all to understand why it’s vital to evacuate to the Wyoming location. The whole damn world will turn to shit in the next few days. Large population centers will be the worst. Our evacuation location has a small local population, the ability to produce fuel and has solar panels as part of their local power grid. That’s just a few of the reasons. So, let’s move people!”

  “Sir, I’m Airman First Class (A1C) Bernadette Fowler. I have a question.”

  “Go ahead, Airman Fowler.”

  “What about our dependents? Can we take them with us for the evacuation?”

  “I’m sorry, people. I should not have forgotten the dependents. They will accompany us out on a ‘Space A’ status. If we have room, they will come out with us. If anyone misses the flight out, our rally point is the county airport outside Douglas Wyoming. That is all for now people.”

  Looks like I just kicked over an ant colony. Peters thought as he pulled out his sat phone from his pocket. He was not surprised when it would not connect. Guess I’m not only the commander of space command, but single as well. God, I need a cigarette.

  “Sir, will this draft be acceptable?” A young SrA held out a piece of scratch paper for him to read. “HQ Space Command regrets to announce the death of General Tullos from the pandemic. Major General William Peters assumed command at 0230 hrs local. The first order of business will be the evacuation of Peterson AFB to the county airport outside Douglas, Wyoming. All personnel will assemble on the flight line side of the passenger terminal at 0400 hrs local time. Anyone not able to make it to the assembly area should use alternate transportation to get to the Douglas Wyoming Airport. Those personnel infected from contact with the sick will not be allowed on the aircraft.

  “Sir, I can send that out to all base personnel with government cell phones and to their military email.” The SrA offered, uncertain of the general’s reply.

  “Damn good job, airman. When this is all over, if we’re both alive, I’m going to buy you a drink.” Peters reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a round metal object, (RMO, no longer called challenge coins in USAF) on one side it was engraved with Air Force Space Command shield, on the other side the motto, "Guardians of the High Frontier” “Here, first RMO I’ve given out as commander. Aww shit, my only one too.

  The SrA rushed back to his console and quickly typed in the message. Instead of going out to all local units and personnel, he inadvertently sent it out command wide, all geographical units in CONUS and overseas received the message along with the variety of commands and services affiliated with Space Command.

  In the confusion of activity, no one noticed Airman Asher Brown and AIC Caleb White sneak out of the center. Both young men, excited about being in the zombie apocalypse, felt the need to take action. They ran to the loading area. A lone SF was manning the entry control point for the building, watching through the door window, the lights near the door turned off.

  “Two to go out, we need to get a bus or something for evacuation. My pickup is in the second row away from the building” White lied.

  The SF looked at the pair before him, each carrying a bloody spear. “Okay, it’s been quiet out there. Let me just confirm with the center that they sent you out and I’ll open the door.” When the SF crooked his neck to speak into his radio, White pushed him as hard as he could, taking him by surprise, then sprinting out the door, both airmen laughed madly as they ran to the pickup truck. “You damn fools, no way in hell I’m going out there to save your little asses!”

  The pair climbed up into Caleb’s baby, a classic 2009 Ford F350 with off road lift kit, 35-inch tires pickup. The twenty-year old cherry red paint job didn’t have a blemish. “Where’re we going to first Caleb?” Asher asked, his head constantly moving as if on a swivel, looking for the infected, while at the same time trying to find music, instead of all the emergency alerts, on the radio until he hit hard rock. “Ah, that helps!” He shouted as he cranked the music up.

  “First let’s cruise the base and see if we can score some guns. Then we’ll head for the dorm and see if we can find anyone trapped there. After that, we’ll head for the transportation squadron see if we can get some wheels to help evacuate the squadron before they try to get out.”

  “Cool, we’ll need to get at least a one ton for all the crap we need to take with us too.” Asher added. “Hey, I know, turn left on Vandenberg and head for the North Gate. If the cops took any casualties we might be able to pick up a gun or two.”

  “Alright my man, I knew I kept you around for something.” Caleb turned left heading for the gate. “Damn it all to hell! The pop-up barriers are up.”

  “Well, drive around onto the grass. I have it on good authority you can do that during the ZA!” Asher replied snarkily.

  “Huh?” Caleb gave Asher a dirty look.

  “The ZA, you know, the zombie apocalypse!”

  “Sure dumbass, except they have the barriers in the grass so you don’t do that. Come on it’s less than a hundred feet. We can run over there and back before any of the zombies see us.” Caleb picked up the trash bag from the back of the cab and stuck it in his left thigh pocket before exiting. Once out of the truck, they could hear sporadic gunfire and the haunting sound of the infected shrieking from every direction that the truck’s stereo had masked while they’d been driving.

  “Fuck this! Let’s get some!” Asher charged towards the guard shack, holding the spear above his right shoulder, as if he was ready to throw it on the run.

  Caleb tried to keep up carrying his spear across his chest at port arms like a rifle. What the hell am I doing out here! “Asher, there’s zombies coming out of the trees to your right!” Caleb veered right against his better judgment and speared the closest infected, aiming for her chest, and instead going in under her chin before getting stuck as she fell back. He jumped on her chest and pulled with all his strength until it popped out. He was able to get it up in time to stick the next zombie through the eye before he noticed it had
been a SF. The creature still had his full gear including his M17 Sig Sauer in the holster.

  “Help me, Caleb! I missed.” Asher cried out as he stood still, watching a zombie run towards him, past his spear, stuck in the tree.

  “Run to me and I’ll kill it. I can’t get to you in time.” Asher heard him, then turned and bolted directly away from the trees as more zombies came out of the trees, ignoring Caleb and joining the chase. That explains why he’s a career E1. Caleb thought bitterly as he bent over the dead SF and pulled out his 9mm, before he emptied the pouches of the spare magazines, stuffing them in his pants pocket. No more zombies were coming out of the trees. He turned his attention to Asher. Maybe I should just shoot the dumbass instead of the zombies. Taking careful aim, he fired on the zombie closest to Asher. From fifty feet away, he centered on the middle of its back and softly squeezed the trigger, the explosion of the round leaving the barrel was almost as shocking as watching the zombie fall and not be able to get up because it took the hit on the left knee. He aimed at the next one, again aiming for the center of the back. He forced himself to stop, let out part of a breath, then softly stroked the trigger. The creature’s skull exploded, and then the zombie seemed to fly before landing on his face. The last zombie turned towards Caleb and shrieked louder than anything he’d ever heard before. He brought up the automatic and could not steady it. He fired twice missing each time before he made himself hold his breath. The zombie was now less than fifteen feet away. Caleb put himself into a perfect weaver stance, watched the automatic seem to make a figure eight in his hands as he held it and let out a little of his breath. He then fired twice, both shots entered the forehead, making two small holes above the eyes, then leaving two huge holes where the back of his skull had been. Caleb noticed the infected had once been a SF, too. He quickly bent over it, noticing the weapon was gone but the ammo pouches were still snapped shut. He grabbed the two mags, dropping them in the trash bag from his pocket. He stopped when he heard and sensed something coming up on him. He rolled over onto his butt, and bringing up the automatic, he checked fire at the last second when he realized it was Asher. He almost puked at the realization of what he’d nearly done.

  Caleb lifted his left hand up towards Asher so he could help him up out of the grass. Asher yanked him up roughly. Asher began to speak when Caleb threw a roundhouse connecting with his cheek, knocking him to the ground. “You dumb son of a bitch! Do you work at being this stupid or does it really come natural to you? If I fucking say ‘jump’, you jump! If I tell you to run, you run where I tell you to run! Now, go get your damn spear. We need to check out the guard shack. Caleb went back and grabbed his spear, then walked the rest of the way to the guard shack. A line of empty cars sat facing the gate, their engines still running, one still had a driver who’d turned, he was thrashing around trying to escape from his seat belt. Some cars were smeared with blood and a few had bullet holes. Bodies covered the ground around the vehicles. The ground around the shack littered with piles of empty 9mm brass and 5.56 brass. Caleb found an M4 and another M17 Sig Sauer, both empty. He shouldered the M4.

  “Hey, gimme one of those!” Asher whined from behind him. Caleb handed the 9mm to him. The action still locked back. “That’s not funny, man, give me some bullets.”

  “You drop the empty mag from the pistol, and I’ll give you a loaded one.” Asher surprised him when he not only released the magazine, but also then caught it and stuffed it in his pants pocket. Caleb handed him the full magazine. Asher surprised his friend again when he turned the weapon partly to the side when he let the slide release forward, making it possible to see the round go forward.

  “C’mon, let’s get moving. We don’t have much time. I’m going to head for the SF armory and see what we can get there.” Caleb started to jog back to his pickup, not waiting to see if Asher was with him. When he got to within twenty feet of the truck, he saw dozens of infected surrounding it. Their shrieking didn’t begin to cover-up the sound of his stereo thumping through their supersized woofers. Can’t I get a fucking break?

  “Caleb, you turn the truck around and pick me up. I’ll draw them away from the truck.” Asher bolted towards the center of the grassy area. Once away from Caleb he started to shout, “Come on you ugly fucking shits, who wants to party? I got some nice tasty 19 year old dick for you to chew on.”

  Aww crap, here we go again. The infected instantly took off for Ashley. Caleb got to his truck and was disgusted at the smears on the paint job and doors from the infected rubbing their dirty, bloody bodies against it. Bastards, I just washed it yesterday.

  Dropping the spear on the floorboard, he quickly buckled his seat belt out of habit. A shudder went down his back as he thought of the zombie still strapped into his seatbelt at the north gate. Caleb gunned the engine as he turned sharply to the left, bouncing as he went over the curb; he winced as he ran over a dead body, then some small bushes. Asher was almost a hundred feet away and pulling away from those chasing him. Caleb pulled up alongside the last one following his friend and let the truck veer over him. The rear of the truck bounced as he went over the infected runner. He repeated the trick seven more times, and then honked the horn to signal Asher that he was safe.

  Pulling up to Asher, he was amazed to see him totally dripping in sweat, yet still grinning. “That was a fucking rush!” He then saw the infected laying and thrashing on the ground where they’d fallen. “Man, you fucked them up. The landscapers are going to go after your ass, too. Look how torn up the grass and bushes are.” Both laughed as he turned the truck to head back towards the fallen infected.

  “I thought I saw at least one cop chasing you. Yeah, that one by the bush, take your spear and finish him before you touch him.” Caleb stopped ten feet from the infected and looked around as Asher jumped out carrying his spear. He stepped on its back and thrust the spear into the back of its skull before trying to kick it over and failing. He grabbed its arm and slowly flipped the heavy body over. Caleb almost jumped out of the truck to help when Asher fell to his knees and violently began to wretch and heave. After a minute he stopped and stripped the one remaining magazine from the body, then as an afterthought, pulled the radio as well, after wiping as much blood and gore from it as he could.

  “Son of a bitch! That was Junior, that works at the gym part time. I just impaled through the head!” Asher was fighting back tears as he slammed the door shut behind him.

  “Check this out!” Caleb shouted over the music blasting from the radio as he revved the engine, dirt flying, as he did a donut on the lawn before aiming for the road twenty feet away. “I’ll take Peterson Boulevard” he shouted as he bounced up onto the road, then crossed the median strip, taking out a small tree and a bush.

  Pulling up to the armory, light was visible coming through the metal door where over a dozen bullet holes gave testimony to an earlier battle. The parking lot was littered with 5.56, 9mm, and 7.62 fired brass. “You still sure you want to go in there?” Asher asked.

  “Hell, no! I want to go back to the dorm, lock my door, drink beer, eat a pepperoni pizza and forget this whole night. However, the guys back at the squadron are counting on us, or would be if they knew that we were stupid enough to do what we’re doing. When we get to the door, you open it slowly, and get out of my way. Then follow me in, just don’t get too close to me. If I holler, ‘run’ beat feet for the truck. Got it?”

  Asher slipped on the brass getting out of the truck and caught himself at the last moment. Caleb looked at him and did an exaggerated facepalm, then shook his head ‘no.’ Caleb waited for Asher to grab the door. On his signal, the door was pulled open. Adrenaline pumping, he took three steps inside, immediately tripping over a body, and losing his gun as he fell. The hallway before him was filled with dead bodies, wall to wall the entire length that he could see, he nervously looked for where his gun had fallen when three infected turned the corner, shrieking as loud as they could. They charged as best they could over the body lined floor, at t
he hapless A1C. Six rapidly fired shots boomed out from behind him. Asher managed to hit each of the infected twice, each one with a bullet to the chest and head. Caleb found his weapon and managed to stand back up, having to stand on the slick bodies, his entire uniform now covered in blood and gore. Thank you, God for that miracle!

  “Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that? Sure the fuck wasn’t in the Air Force” Caleb didn’t wait for an answer as he picked a piece of flesh off his shirt; he thought it might be part of a brain.

  “Shit, I shot junior competitive back in Texas before I enlisted. Most of the kids I hung out with were as good as, or better than me.”

  “Well fuck this then, you go first and I’ll cover you. Here’s two of the mags I found. Armory is just around the corner, where those two came from. Wait! Half these guys on the floor are armed, let’s police their weapons and ammo, Caleb pulled the trash bag from his pants. Make sure they’re dead before you touch ‘em.”

  “Hey Caleb, how did you know where the armory was?” Asher asked while pulling an empty magazine out from under a pile of guts.

  “They won’t let me keep my guns in the dorm, so I have to sign them out here, when I want to go shooting.”

  “Cool, they won’t let me bring my guns from home here until I’m twenty-one. What do you...” Aieeeeeeeee, an infected was under another dead infected and tried to bite Caleb, but couldn’t get past the dead infected atop him. Caleb pulled out the automatic from his waist with shaky hands, then put the barrel against the infected’s forehead.

  “Don’t do it, Caleb!” Asher shouted, too late. Caleb squeezed the trigger and immediately was rewarded with a face full of blood and brains from the blowback. “Caleb, keep your eyes and mouth shut, let me wipe your face off. You don’t want to get infected.” Asher produced a clean hanky from his back pocket and carefully wiped his buddy’s face clean. “Done, now don’t do that again!” He looked at the bloody hanky and dropped it on the pile of bodies.