by Mark Tufo
“Anyone bring a weapon?” Lynn asks. Their heads swing back toward her, and they all shake them answering no. “Great! Specialist Taylor, take someone with you and gather all of the emergency flashlights. And don’t make any noise.”
Nodding to the other specialist and private, Lynn says, “You two, I saw lights on through the windows outside. Go turn them off and make sure the windows are locked. I want this building secure.”
They both give a “Yes, sergeant” and head off. Lynn sits at the desk and ponders over this bizarre day. Thoughts and ideas run a blitzkrieg through her head. She tries the security shop again but gets no response as a faint volley of gunfire sounds outside.
“Sounds like that’s coming from zone two,” she says softly.
“I think so, sergeant,” the private remaining with her says.
“Okay, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but we’re treating this as an attack and going on lockdown. No one goes in or out of the TOC unless they identify themselves and show their ID. Clear?” Lynn says, once the two groups gather, having completed their assignments.
“Yes, sergeant,” they respond in unison.
“Private, you man the phones,” Lynn orders one of the privates. “Specialist, you get on the phone and try to raise anyone, starting with the security shop.” Both respond with a “Yes, sergeant” and seat themselves at adjoining desks.
She turns to the other three to give them assignments when a terrific knocking comes from the front door. The specialist pauses in mid-dial and all eyes turn toward the sound.
“Specialist Taylor, you’re with me. The rest of you stay alert,” she says, starting toward the pounding at the door.
She walks to the locked, steel door, arriving just as the hammering resumes. She stands in front of it with Taylor off to one side.
“Identify yourself,” she calls.
“Sergeant Connell? It’s Drescoll,” a voice responds from the other side. “Hurry, they’re right on my ass.”
Lynn bumps her hip against the latch bar running horizontally across the door, cracking it slightly, but keeping her hand on the bar, ready to close it again quickly.
“I need to see your ID,” she says once the door opens and a thin stream of light pours in from the lights outside.
However, as soon as the door cracks open, she loses her grip. It flies open as Drescoll pulls on it and darts into the entrance running past Lynn and into Taylor knocking them both off balance.
“Close it, hurry, close it!” Drescoll says breathlessly as soon as he is inside.
Lynn grabs the door and begins to pull it closed. The picture outside imprints itself in her mind like a snapshot. The wide sandy avenue, the tan, convex buildings across the way with their entrances lit by lights over the doors, spreading circles of illumination on the ground, the avenue itself lit by pole-mounted lights. She hears the faint sound of generators and the sight of approximately ten people running directly for her from across the way freezes in her mind, each member of the group frozen in a different part of their stride.
The picture is cut off by the closing door and disappears entirely with a click. There was a pause as the door was closing during which she contemplated holding it open for them, but given what she has seen and the fact that she issued a lockdown order, they need to ID everyone coming into the operations center. Followed closely by the sound of the door shutting comes several loud shrieks from those running toward it as if frustrated. That is accompanied by the sound of many feet striking the ground, which grows rapidly louder by the second.
“Holy shit that was close. Thanks,” Drescoll says between gasps of breath.
He is bent over in the semi-darkness of the entrance with his hands on his knees. A loud thud sounds as something slams against the door in front of them startling the three of them. Something else slams against the door right on the heels of the first.
“Identify yourself,” Lynn calls out and is only to be met by a loud shriek and another large slam against the door.
“Or don’t,” she says more quietly.
“I think they just did,” Drescoll says just as quietly, having caught his breath and standing upright.
“Specialist Taylor, remain here, but don’t open the door and stay quiet. I’m going to send one of the privates up with you,” Lynn says, turning from the door and starting back to the open area with Drescoll on her heels.
“Private, go up with Specialist Taylor at the front door and keep watch,” she says once she returns to the central open room.
Turning to Drescoll, who is leaning against one of the desks, Lynn asks, “So, what the hell was that about?”
“Fuck, I don’t know exactly,” Drescoll answers, getting a rather faraway look in his eyes. “I was in the Intel shop when about twenty people suddenly stormed into the building. They immediately began attacking everyone, jumping on them and literally tearing them apart. I tried to help, but they were overwhelming and it became apparent very quickly there wasn’t anything I could do. Everyone in the shop was down just that quickly. I headed out the back, but some of them apparently saw me and chased me all of the way here.”
The faraway look vanishes, and he focuses on Lynn staring intensely into her eyes. “They were our own people, Lynn,” Drescoll adds, his shock apparent by the use of her first name.
Releasing his gaze and staring at the floor, he goes on, “I recognized some of them. Only, they weren’t really the same. They were just, well…crazed and out of control. All they did was shriek and howl as they tore everyone apart. And, they were pale and blotchy. Christ, it was a mess in there. Thanks again for opening the door,” he finishes, looking at her once again with the slamming and shrieks almost continuous outside.
“No worries,” Lynn says and looks at the others in the room. They are alternating their wide-eyed stares between her and Drescoll. “Continue your calling,” she says to the specialist, and he turns back to the phone in front of him, the mesmerization broken.
“Okay, we’re going to continue to man the TOC and try to get contact. Any questions?” Lynn adds.
The privates and specialist answer with a “No, sergeant.”
Lynn turns to Sergeant Drescoll, “I want to get a look outside. Do you mind waiting here and overseeing this for a bit?” she asks, waving her arm to indicate the room.
“Not a prob,” Drescoll responds.
Lynn walks to where Taylor and the private are standing by the front door. The shrieks have grown less frequent, but the sounds and reverberations of something slamming hard into the building are no longer confined to the door. There are things slamming against the building walls as well. Between the howls and pounding, a continuous growling seeps into the building from outside. The sporadic gunfire heard in the distance earlier is now either non-existent or overshadowed by the closer sounds.
“I’m heading in the office for a look outside. Have you heard anything different than, well, this?” she asks, indicating the obvious noises with a nod of her head, barely visible in the gray darkness.
“No, sergeant,” Taylor responds, and Lynn heads into an office on her right.
In the office, the window is at shoulder height and looks out to the front of the building. She steps up to it and gazes out over the wide avenue. The building is raised so she is significantly higher than the ground outside. Looking left and right, the avenue is clear with the exception of about twenty people crowded in front of the TOC. The pack consists mostly of fatigue-clad soldiers, but mixed in are people in shorts and t-shirts. A couple are darker skinned and dressed in jeans and button-down short-sleeve shirts. They are milling about but definitely focused on the building she is in. A few take short runs and slam into the sides or up the steps and into the front door with their shoulders. Some attempt to run and jump at the window on the other side of the door, but it and its small ledge are too high for them to reach.
As she continues to look at the crowd, Lynn notices one detail prevalent in all of them by the li
ght streaming down. That is the paleness of their skin. It appears to be pale gray with both small and large darker gray blotches. Several seem to have blood on their faces and hands, and their clothing is soaked in dried or drying blood. A very large chill crawls up her spine and a surreal sense steels over her.
Oh my fucking God, are those freakin’ zombies? she thinks, shaking her head and not believing what she is seeing outside. No, they can’t be.
A memory passes through her mind as she recalls the many zombie discussions she and Jack had in the past. They talked about what they would do in the event of a zombie invasion and discussed the various zombie books they had read.
The trip down memory lane is broken when one in the crowd notices her in the window and shrieks. She looks down at the figure leaning toward her with its mouth open. The others pause in whatever activity they were doing and focus on her, running toward her window. The one who discovered her runs at her, launches itself up, and slams into the side of the building. She notes all of them have focused on her and that a distraction could possibly work in the event they need to hastily exit. The shrieks and pounding increase in intensity with their having discovered that someone is definitely inside. Lynn backs away from the window and out of the office.
“You holler if anyone or anything breaches the front of the building. Watch out for the windows,” she says, passing by Taylor and the private once more.
“Will do, sergeant,” Taylor responds.
In the open area once again, she signals Sergeant Drescoll to her rather than joining the small group. She relates everything she saw, although not her thoughts. Their voices don’t carry past their position.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks after hearing her report.
“I have no idea,” she replies. “We need to keep away from the windows and maintain silence though. We’ll just hole up here and see what the morning brings. In the meantime, we’ll stay on the phones.”
Drescoll nods in agreement. “What about the lights?”
“We’ll turn on a couple to indicate to anyone outside, well, the ones that haven’t gone crazy, that the TOC is manned,” she answers. He nods and Lynn steps over to the others and informs them of the plan. Next, she heads to the front to notify Taylor and the private.
The remainder of the evening is spent with little change in their situation. There is no response from any of the telephone calls outbound and none of the lines ring with anyone calling in. The sounds outside become more sporadic with the exception of the constant muted growling. The only change occurs a little after 02:00 when the occasional pounding and growling begins to occur along the side of the building under the windows where their lights are shining outside. After turning the lights out, submersing them in almost total darkness, the sounds along the side eventually transition to the back door. With everyone keyed up and facing a very confusing situation, there is no sleep to be had.
Little is said during the rest of the night. Lynn ponders whether this is an isolated incident, but the fact that they cannot raise anyone inside the camp or any of the other bases in country, leads her to believe this may be on a much larger scale. Calls to other bases within the States or Europe also go unanswered.
Could this be happening worldwide? she thinks, staring through the window from her position near the center of the room at the star-speckled sky. I hope Jack is okay. Her heart both tightens and warms at the thought of him.
With the coming dawn, the sky not yet lighting, but promising it is near, something happens that draws everyone’s attention. Or really, it is more like the lack of something happening that draws their attention. The sounds outside suddenly, and without warning, cease. Complete silence ensues. In the dark gray of the building, Lynn walks into the front office once again and peers out of the window, careful not to draw any attention. The buildings, avenue, and lights remain the same, but there is no one to be seen. To the east, she barely makes out the sky beginning to light up. She sees a form on the ground under one of the lights far down the avenue to her left.
That must be the guy who was attacked by those first two, she thinks and withdraws from the window.
“You two with me,” she says to Taylor and the private as she passes them and proceeds back to the other group members. Drawing the group together in the center of the room, she notifies them of the situation out front.
“When it gets fully light, you two will continue to man the TOC,” she says, pointing to the specialist and one of the privates. “The rest of us will draw weapons and head over to the security shop. I’m not sure what happened, so we need to stay together and alert. This facility will remain on lockdown and you ID anyone trying to come in. No ID, no entrance. Any questions?”
Drescoll shakes his head and the others respond with, “No, Sergeant Connell.”
The sun crests the horizon transitioning from night to day. The transition in the desert comes quickly. One moment night holds sway, and the next, the land stands bathed in daylight. After checking through the office window once more and verifying that nothing is moving outside, Lynn opens the front door and steps out into the morning light, squinting against the sudden change in brightness. The chill of the night quickly turns into the heat of the day but is moderately comfortable at the moment. With Sergeant Drescoll and Specialist Taylor at each shoulder and slightly behind her, and the two Privates behind them, she starts through the sand toward the armory to draw their weapons.
On the way, they pass by the form in the avenue. It is indeed a soldier, or rather, what was once one. A field cap lies on the ground by its head. The gender is unidentifiable. The tissue on the face is completely removed, leaving only the facial bone structure staring up at the blue sky lighting up with the rising sun. The uniform is shredded and almost completely removed from the body. The only piece remaining is the belt and a small section of the pants just below it. That piece and the shreds of uniform lying on the ground are covered in dried blood. The rest of the body appears to have been almost completely eaten with the bones only having small pieces of sinew and flesh. Blood is soaked into the sand around the body, which is churned up denoting a frenzy of activity. One lung and chunks of internal organs are the only things remaining within the torso and chest cavity.
One of the privates leans over and throws up the little in his stomach, dry heaving once everything has been expelled but unable to stop. Lynn looks over at Taylor, who guides the private down to the avenue removing him from the proximity of the body. Lynn reaches down and removes one of the dog tags sticking one in her pocket and leaving one with the body.
“Okay, let’s move on,” she says.
The only sounds in the area are of generator motors running both near and far. The usual morning activity of people heading off on assignments and errands are non-existent. A little farther away from the TOC and the body of the soldier in the road, a figure steps out from behind a building ahead and steps into the roadway. The small group freezes in place, ready for anything that may come. Stopping in the road, the figure ahead looks anxiously to the left and right before sighting the group. Appearing startled by the sight of her group of five, the figure walks warily toward them, tensed and ready to run. Lynn turns her head over her shoulder and tells everyone to remain in place. As the figure draws near, Lynn observes the wariness and tension from the fatigue-clad soldier.
“Identify yourself,” Lynn calls out once the soldier closes in to where they can hear without her broadcasting their location.
The tension visibly leaves the soldier as she replies back, “Corporal Horace. You’re the first ones I’ve seen today, sergeant,” Horace adds as she steps up to the group.
She then relates her story of the evening, detailing how she headed to the latrine in the middle of the night and was chased repeatedly until taking refuge in one of the buildings. She was over by zone two and listened all night to the shrieks, howls, and apparent running gunfights with the sounds of the gunfire dying around 02:00. Watching from the wi
ndows of her building, she saw several soldiers attacked and taken down.
Heading over to the camp armory, the group encounters more bodies of soldiers and civilian contractors lying in the sand in various positions, but looking like the first body they encountered to some degree or another; bodies stripped mostly to the bone.
“What in the world could or would do this?” Taylor asks quietly without really expecting an answer as they pass two more bodies lying in the warming desert sun.
As with the first soldier she encountered, Lynn removes a dog tag from each one, adding them to the growing number in her pocket.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to have to assume the camp has been overrun at this point,” Lynn replies, noting the very distinct lack of people or the noises normally associated with a large group of people assembled in one place.
Stepping around the corner of a building and onto the roadway leading to the armory, Lynn sees a larger group standing in front of the armory a short distance ahead. She signals the others with her to hold up, not knowing if the group ahead is friendly or not, and draws to a halt as well.
“I think we should head between the buildings,” she says, pointing back in the direction they came and a pathway, “until we can get closer and find out their disposition.”
Retracing their steps and still unseen by the larger group, they turn left and walk down the pathway keeping the buildings between them and the other group. As they draw closer, voices begin to penetrate the mostly silent area. They squat behind the building directly across from where the other group is gathered.
“What do you think, Sergeant Connell?” Drescoll asks quietly as they gather in a circle.
“I don’t recall hearing any of those affected ones speaking, and they’re not attacking each other, so I think we’re going to have to assume it’s okay to go out there,” she says, squatting in the shadow of the building. “I’ll go out and make contact. The rest of you stay here. Sergeant Drescoll, keep an eye on what happens. If it goes bad, get out of here. If we become separated, the rally point will be the TOC. Everyone clear?”