“Copy that, we have 196 lost sheep we rounded up, we also have vital cargo, if space is available.”
Conrad was more relaxed when he saw the armored cars and buses were keeping good speed and interval. They had obviously maintained their discipline and a semblance of unit cohesion. To the left of them he saw a single vehicle approaching, it was not on an approved drive lane, and seemed to be swerving a little. Only one I know person that could yank my chain just by driving like that is Caleb! “Whitey, Worst Nightmare.”
The radio surprised Caleb; there’d been no traffic for a while on the channel he’d been on. “Nightmare, I’m here.” He smiled when he saw the armored car with Conrad sitting on top wearing his red hat. “Is this the end of the day?”
“Whitey, park your truck out of the way and then report to me, Nightmare out.” Caleb pulled up next to and armored car, wondering if there was time to get to see the inside of it. “Come on, H2, time to go bye-bye.” She opened her eyes dreamily and he began to see her as more than a passenger. He opened his door, trying not to trip over the M4 attached to him then stretched. He went to the front of his truck curious if there was any damage. The entire heavy-duty grill guard was covered in blood; the rest of the truck’s front was turning a brownish black from the blood and body parts. He reached in and pulled out a child’s arm that was complete from fingers to shoulder. He didn’t remember hitting any kids, he looked at it without any remorse and tossed it under the armored car, he looked down on the kid’s blood on his hands uncaring, and went to the back of his truck to get one of his rags to wipe it off. “No! You gotta be fucking kidding me! He shouted, not caring who heard. There were three bullet holes in the side of his truck. “Mother-fucker mother-fucker mother-fucker!” He turned to Henrietta, eyes glazed in anger. “Who the hell shot up my truck back at the dorm?” He balled up his hands into tight fists, not feeling his fingernails digging deeply into his palms, drawing blood. “Aww, just fuck it!” He reached into the bed of his truck and grabbed his rag, wiping the infected blood into his scratches as he tried to wipe it away, he calmed down and could not bring himself to look at Henrietta as he tossed the bloody rag into the bed of his truck. It was probably that loser Rick.
Conrad watched the kid park to the side of an abandoned armored car. I wonder if the kid’s was half as tired as me.
“A1C White, Nice of you to finally show up. I see you are guilty of a missed movement. Under article 87 of the UCMJ you are looking at a maximum punishment of a bad conduct discharge, total forfeitures, and confinement for one year. Have you anything to say in your own defense? Conrad asked from atop the armored car
“I missed you too. But I’m too tired for any crap right now. I ended up diverting not one, not two, but three hordes of zombies. Worse traffic than after any home game I can remember. Then I played pied piper with them until I got them into the officer’s section of base housing, then I left them there.” Caleb smiled when he realized that was in fact where he’d left the hordes.
“Good job son. Pace yourself though, this is actually the first day of the rest of your life. You want it to be a long one. You missed the fun here. The C-130J was only supposed to take like ninety some passengers; they ended up taking one hundred eighty or so. My great grand dad was in Vietnam, he said they evacuated over 450, in a C-130A model. Come on up here, just pop the side hatch and the driver will help you pop the hatch down there. Don’t want any surprises popping out at you in the dark this late in the game.
Rick opened the side hatch from the inside. When Caleb reached for the handle, Rick grabbed his hand and pulled out a flashlight. “Brother, you are so fucked! Look at the palm of your hand. You see those white streaks? Well look at this.” Rick lifted his pants leg where the indentation of a bite mark was visible. Around it, the skin had streaks of white. We’re dead men walking, my friend. Is your hand starting to feel warm yet? Soon it’ll feel hot and itchy. I’m staying behind after the plane takes off, then I’m going to eat a round for my last meal.”
Caleb looked at Rick in shock, and then at his hand It was feeling warm. Oh, bullshit that could be from anything. I didn’t let one things get close enough to really bite me or scratch me. Where in the hell does this asshole get off telling me I’m a fucking infected, especially after the dirt bag shot up my truck? There has to be an answer we’re missing, we just have to think. Caleb looked back at his hand; he touched it with his other hand. Damn, that thing it should be smoking, it’s just that hot. There’s only one thing to do. “How do I get up top so I can talk to Conrad?” Rick walked him through the narrow area to the commander’s seat and pointed to the handle on the hatch above it.
Caleb popped the hatch and felt the cool air again as it blew past him. Conrad was watching the others loading their gear and people aboard the C-17C. “Looks like it’s time for us to try and get some seats. The ones on a C-17C are more comfortable than flying tourist on any of the airlines.”
He pushed himself up the rest of the way and turned himself around so he was facing the MSgt. He held out his hand so the whiteness was visible. “I fucked up. I won’t be getting on that plane with you. Conrad looked at the hand, trying to find words. Boom, boom, boom, echoed out as the other armored car opened up, then raced to the north, firing to the west and to the northwest.
“Driver, turn us 180, and then head for the fence.” Caleb dropped down in his seat, watching Rick drive, then hearing the .50 cal firing short bursts. Conrad quit shooting after only two minutes. The tinny sound of his M4 replaced the deep chug like sound of the .50 cal.
“Defenders one and two return to the aircraft, we are taking off as soon as you return. Acknowledge.”
“Defender one acknowledges.” Rick said into his head set. He heard the other armored car confirm the order as well. “Caleb, the other car has a full load of ammo; they barely had any trouble getting here. We go back to the plane, drop off the Sarge, then use the other car to hold off the zombies. Then we figure out what to do from there.” Rick spun the wheel and headed parallel to the plane, he didn’t want to get in front of those engines.
“What the hell are you doing down there? I didn’t give any orders to turn around.” Conrad’s face had turned red, contorted in anger.
Caleb replied, “Following orders, they ordered us back so they can close the plane and get out of here. When we get back to the plane, Rick and I are going to take the other armored car and try to hold them off. We’re dead men walking as it is. The least we can do is use what time we have left to cover you guys. By the way, Rick is infected too.”
He almost fell out of his seat when Rick braked the armored car. Both headed for their overhead hatches instead of the main hatch on the side. Conrad was a little slower. The whine of all four aircraft engines was deafening, all three covered their ears as they ran. Each man making sure not to look at the rear of the engines, as sand and pebbles blew back at them with the force of bullets. The concentrated jet exhaust hitting the men made it hard to breathe. Rick grabbed Caleb then turned him towards the other armored car as their crew ran past them towards the jet. Caleb tried to get a last look at Conrad and gave up.
“You get the turret; I’ve seen the way you drive.” The armored car rocked as the plane’s engines increased power.
The loadmaster pulled at MSgt Conrad as he went up the ladder, almost flinging him into the plane. General Peters helped him to his feet, and then helped the men from the other armored car to their feet as well. The loadmaster closed the hatch and spoke into his headset’s microphone. The plane’s engines increased power and they could feel it begin to move.
“Where’s my hero?” I know I saw his red pickup the same time the convoy got here.” Peters looked like he was staring through Conrad, into his soul itself when he replied.
“Sir, he and the transportation troop are both infected. They said they’re going to hold off the zombies until the plane gets away.” Conrad replied, feeling cheap. Peters looked him in the eyes just a moment longer,
and then slapped him on the shoulder.
“Take my seat there. I’m going to ride up top in the flight deck. You did a damn good job today, MSgt Conrad. He felt like a fake as he made his way to the seat, while not falling down. The general had no such problem as he made his way up to the flight deck.
“Move it! Those fuckers are going to drive right into the zombies if we don’t clear a way first.” The aircraft seemed to spin as it turned left as tightly as it could. The armored car got the full blast but continued. The C-17C turned onto the runway then turned left. It held in place visibly shaking as the engines increased their power.
“Screw the zombies to the northwest; we need to get those coming from the west. Put this thing on the runway, the planes blocking my aim.” Caleb bounced around as the armored car moved into a better position to fire, wishing he had a helmet to lower the noise and communicate easier, most of all to protect his head.
“There we go.” Caleb said to himself as he checked out the small display, under it a set of buttons with arrows. He pressed the left arrow button; the result was the turret turning left. The up arrow elevated both the MK19 and M2. To the left was a light gray handgrip with a red toggle switch safety cover on the very top. He grabbed the handgrip with his left hand, then forced his thumb under the safety cover. He then gently pressed the uncovered switch with the top of his thumb. He quickly let go when he heard three rapid thumps as the MK19 grenade launcher fired. He saw on the monitor that the shots landed in the center of the zombies heading towards the runway and the plane. Looking at the control panel, he found the switch he needed; he set the MK19/M2 switch to M2. He used the arrows to line up the crosshairs on the display on the zombies closest to the runway, then grabbed the handgrip before forcing his thumb under the safety cover, then gently pressed the uncovered switch with the top of his thumb. The bullets tore through the zombies as he tried to contain his excitement. He’d heard that it was possible to burn out the barrel with long bursts, so he limited himself to three-second bursts, while swinging the turret to the left and right. The zombies that had been heading in the general direction of the runway now all turned their attention on the armored car instead.
Major Nicole Donner had just noticed an anomaly on the Multi function Display (MFD) reporting a low Engine Pressure Ratio (EPR) on number two engine when the Warning Annunciation Panel (WAP) chime began to go off. She looked down at the WAP in disgust. She was momentarily distracted when three grenades went off in rapid succession not too far from the plane, as she noticed the zombie hordes were getting closer. Looking back at the WAP, the display was showing a fuel flow problem on number two engine. Looking over at the fuel panel it showed no problems. Controlling her nervousness, she looked over to the Mission Computer Display (MCD) when she was distracted again, this time by long lines of red tracers pouring into the front of the horde closest to the plane; she looked away as bodies disintegrated before her eyes. Realizing time was getting short, she looked over to the left seat, “Col Austin, I’m going to call our FCC (flying crew chief) up here, this is looking bad.” The Colonel made the call himself.
“TSgt Ryan to the flight desk ASAP!” Ryan looked up from where he was helping strap down passengers who did not have actual seats.
“I got this. You better beat feet.” The loadmaster went back to his work, not bothering to watch Ryan leave.
Entering the flight deck, Ryan noticed for the first time the Major General in the jump seat. He immediately ignored the general when he heard the chimes going off. Rushing to get behind the Major, he quickly scanned the WAP, then the MFD before looking at the MCD. Ryan reached up and pulled the number two engine Fuel Control Unit (FCU) circuit breaker. Then rotated the engine shutoff switch to the ‘off’ position and then back to the ‘on’ position. All faults immediately cleared and the EPR for number two engine matched the other three.
“Ricky, it looks like we got popular fast. Drive across the field a half mile towards the city airport.” Rick headed west as ordered, while Caleb rotated the turret to his left. Those zombies closest to the runway were already running towards the armored car, thinking it was trying to flee. The sounds of the plane’s engines finally hit a crescendo. The plane rapidly bounded, forward using the entire available runway before slowly rising, slowly ascending higher into the sky. Damn, I expected something more dramatic.
“Hey Rick, I could really kill for a case of beer. What do you say?” Just get comfortably numb, then pull the trigger.
“OK, I drive, you run in and grab it. But it’s too early for the Class VI Store to be open.” Rick laughingly replied back.
“No problem, we got it under control. I even know a safe place we can sit and drink it. Now move out, I’m done killing unless they fuck with me. The war is over, they fucking won.” Rick didn’t reply as he turned the armored car around, taking the direct route to the Class VI Store.
Driving past the passenger terminal, Rick turned onto Peterson Boulevard, then stopped after a half mile. “Uh, boss, do you see this ahead of us?” The intersection of Stewart Avenue and Peterson Boulevard was solidly packed with zombies, just standing in confusion. Two great hordes did not know where to go after being intermingled. The zombies west of the base had entered at the west gate and then followed the path of least resistance on Stewart Avenue. The hordes from north of the base did the same by following Peterson Boulevard. All of these were new arrivals after Caleb had managed to reroute many into the base housing area.
“Hell Rick, I spent my night having those things chasing me up and down the streets. Shit, I only had my pickup truck and an M4. Turn off the road here and go through the trees to Suffolk Street. Then we’ll turn left on Stewart and go until we run into them. I’ll fire them up, then turn around; we can lead them straight out the east gate. There ain’t shit out there. Then we can just break through the fence up by Vandenberg St. and head for the Class VI store.
Caleb tried not to laugh at Rick as he drove slowly and carefully through the trees and grass before getting back on the road. “Okay Rick, sometime tonight before we turn into fucking monsters!” Caleb was taken by surprise when the armored car began to whiz by buildings and the occasional zombie, then did a hard left turn onto Stewart Street without warning. He made it a quarter mile before the zombies were too thick ahead of them to continue.
“Are you ready to entertain your friends again?” Rick shouted as he cut over the median, hardly noticeable as they rode over the curbs. Caleb only laughed in reply as he rotated the turret and used the Mk19 to lob a couple grenades into the crowd. “Let’s try this.” Rick engaged the public address system followed by a local classical radio station, Ride of the Valkyries, blasted out, stimulating the zombies to move even faster towards them.
“Turn the damn channel, man! Keep playing that crap and even I’ll fucking bite you! There’s got to be some rock and roll out there.”
“I drive, I choose the stations, besides, that’s the only station playing music; I think it must be an automated station. Now you just enjoy man. After all, you could use a little class.” Caleb didn’t reply, instead he sat and watched as the zombies diligently followed behind them.
The east gate was wide open, no vehicles, or any other sign of an earlier fight. Caleb was at the end of his straw when The Nutcracker, began to play. “Hang a left after the gate and speed up for a couple hundred feet then stop.” He rotated the turret to ensure they were all alone with the exception of the zombies following them. He tried not to smile when Rick stopped the vehicle. “Great, now come over here and take my place. I’ll let you bust some caps into the zombies. When will you ever get the chance to shoot a grenade launcher or heavy machine gun again?” He fought himself from doing a facepalm when he realized what he said. Rick sat down in the seat, then adjusted the display, zooming in on the zombies, obviously familiar with the equipment. He let off the first burst of .50 cal when he felt the vehicle moving. A moment later, Highway to Hell, was blasting from the Golden Oldies station.
“Like you said, I drive, I choose the stations!” Caleb accelerated, enjoying the power of the armored car. I got the sons a bitches moving off the base, it’s time to knock off for the day! “Hey Ricky, next stop beer!”
He jerked the wheel hard as he turned off the road and accelerated over the uneven field, driving even faster as he approached the base fence. Ramming Speed! The vehicle seemed to hesitate for a microsecond and then was through the fence. There was only a little bounce and some cursing from Rick.
Rick made his way to the commander’s seat, figuring he might be safer there with the way the nut behind the wheel was driving. “At least turn off the damn radio. We don’t want them following us anymore.” Caleb made a grumbling noise as he turned off the radio, then turned into the Class VI parking lot. He then continued to drive around the building taking down some bushes and small trees on the way, before stopping by the loading dock.
“Sorry about that, wanted to make sure we didn’t have any zombies too close by. We’re hidden pretty well here between the building and trees blocking any view of us. You hop up into the turret and cover me. I’ll be back quick as quick as I can.” He moved to the side hatch and retrieved his M4 from the rack there before opening the hatch.
I can’t believe I’m being a party to this. Rick rotated the turret, making sure there were no surprises. He’d better find some food while he’s in there.
Caleb wound himself up to kick in the door, then stopped, he could see light leaking through where the door was already opened a crack. He shoved open the door and was almost blinded by the bright lights of the storeroom. He listened for a moment not hearing anything. He went directly to the entrance to the walk-in cooler, letting his M4 hang by the sling, then grabbed cases of Budweiser and Coors. Hell, I’m not going to have a hangover, might as well get a couple bottles of Jack. Leaving the cases stacked next to the exit door, he tried to psych himself for what was behind the door. The lights were even brighter, making his eyes sting. He rushed to the bourbon row, then stopped instead he headed for the front of the store and got a cart. Gripping the cart, he started to feel his palm starting to itch and burn, it was even whiter now. Returning to the bourbon row, he grabbed a couple gift bottles that included decorative glasses, then for good measure he grabbed a dozen different types of alcohol in case Rick wanted something else. He moved on to the food section and grabbed a half dozen frozen dinners then on to junk food, before getting a case of Mountain Dew and Coke. The next thing that he thought of was a bag of ice. Can’t have warm drinks! One last idea came into his head and he laughed as he headed to the register. Not a cigar smoker, he figured it was a great time to start, and grabbed the most fancy looking and expensive he could find. Heading back to the storeroom, he glanced to the side and saw a zombie running as fast as it could for him, then hit the glass door and fell back unconscious. Okay, it’s time to go now! He rushed through the doors stopping to throw the cases of beer on top of the cart. He forced himself to be alert as he walked the few feet to the armored car then opened the hatch. He threw the cart in with a little difficulty, gratefully pulled up the lower half of the hatch then the top, locking it down.
Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night Page 7