by Allen Gamboa
"Yes, sir!"
"Wickham!" Hale shouted. The compound fire was starting to spread. The tall saw grass and some of the surrounding trees were now rapidly burning. Thick, black clouds from the gas fire were turning the late afternoon dark. Deaders were starting to gather in masses, drawn by the battle and fire.
"Major?" The Australian officer dropped his rifle into the combat carry position and strode over to where Hale and Newman were positioned.
"We need to get back to our vehicles. We’ll try to get as far out of the compound perimeter as we can. The fire and those meat sacks are going to be too much of a hurdle for us to push through. Gather up the teams. We’re moving out!"
CHAPTER 43: KNOCK KNOCK
Captain Brooks gingerly stepped over a pile of freshly re-killed deaders. Lis had slung her mini-14, the barrel warm on her back. She had a sub-compact Beretta pistol drawn and was cautiously approaching the front door of the church. Sergeant Wu was to her left. He had also slung his sniper rifle and had his 9mm pistol out. He kicked at a male deader. It groaned and tried to roll to its feet. He fired a suppressed round into its head. The deader stopped moving.
"Think we got them all?" Wu said, trying not to breath in the smell of decay.
"You have the scope, Sergeant." Brooks smiled as she glanced around. Both of their rifles had been modified with silencers, so the attack on the surrounding deaders had been more time-consuming than threatening. The captain reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, not surprised when she found it locked. Brooks stepped back, pistol still pointed at the door. "Locked."
"Windows are all shuttered," Wu said, looking to the left of the building. "Why don’t you knock, Captain? Deaders don’t knock."
"Deaders don’t knock." She curled her lip and nodded. Brooks stepped forward and, with her free hand, rapped firmly on the wooden door. No answer. She knocked again. Still no response.
"Probably scared shitless." Wu shrugged as he glanced around, making sure more deaders weren’t sneaking or shambling up on them. "Announce us, Captain. That’s the polite thing to do."
Brooks shook her head then rapped on the door again. "Hello," she said. "Hello, U.S. Air Force!"
"Air Force?" Wu whispered.
"If I said Strategic Securities, they wouldn’t know who the hell we were." She knocked again. There was a click from the lock on the other side. Brooks stepped back, pistol raised. Wu did the same. The door slowly opened, and an older man peeked out. Brooks lowered her handgun and raised her free hand. "It’s okay. We killed all the deaders. We are here to rescue you."
"Rescue?" Wu said under his breath. "Shit."
"I’m Captain Brooks, and this is Sergeant Wu." The man opened the door all the way and stepped out onto the porch. He almost jumped back at the sight of all the deader corpses. The man’s hair and clothing were unkempt, and Brooks noticed he was about sixty years old. "Sir …"
"U.S. Air Force?" the man asked in a thick accent that Brooks recognized as French.
"Yes, you speak English?"
"Hmmm." He stuck out his hand and wiggled it. "Little."
"You speak French?" The man nodded. "Good," Brooks said in French. "We are here to rescue you. How many of you are there?"
"Ten children and four adults." The man rattled on. "I’m the school bus driver, Pietro." He smiled nervously.
"Are you in charge?"
"No, no." The man put up his hands. "Sister Anne is!"
"May we come inside?" Brooks asked.
"Yes, yes!" Pietro put down his hands and stepped back into the doorway, waving them in. Brooks holstered her handgun and glanced over at Wu.
"It’s okay, Sergeant. He’s the school bus driver. His name is Pietro. There’s ten kids inside and four adults." She followed the older man inside. "I guess a nun is in charge."
"Went to a Catholic school," Wu said as he followed Brooks in. "Nuns were always mean."
"Well." The door shut behind them. "Thank God they are. This one had the right idea." Brooks followed Pietro into another, larger room. The smell of unwashed bodies assaulted both of them. Suddenly, the room was filled with excited chatter as a wave of children happily greeted Brooks and Wu.
"Hey!" Brooks stumbled back as several children grabbed her legs and waist as if she was going to disappear.
"It’s okay!" Wu said as three kids almost tackled him.
"Children!" A stern voice came from the back of the room. "Children!" A young, brunette woman dressed in jeans and a red plaid shirt shooed some of the frantic kids away. Wu expected an old woman dressed in penguin gear, but instead he got an attractive woman in her early thirties. Wu smiled and relaxed.
"Sister Anne?" Brooks asked.
"Yes, yes," she said in a Texas drawl. "I’m Sister Anne Calloway." She held a machete in her left hand and extended her right to Brooks. "Are you two Air Force?"
"I’m Captain Lis Brooks, Strategic Securities. I only said that so you would let us in," she said, shaking the sister's hand. "This is Sergeant Wu."
"Thank you all for saving us," Sister Calloway said, shaking Wu’s hand. "We were prayin’ mighty hard."
"Any of you infected … er, bit?" Brooks asked.
"No, we are all good. I have three of the kids' parents and Pietro here. Father Romero, well, he perished when the dead first attacked." She shook her head. "This is all we could save," she said quietly.
"We need to get you all out of here," Brooks said, glancing around at the motley group of children and adults. "The situation is bad all over the island. We do have a plane, and we can get you all aboard, but we have to move now."
"Captain," Wu whispered in her ear, "the major’s not going to like this."
"He has no choice. We can’t leave them here," she replied almost inaudibly. "You know they are going to sanitize the island. We can’t leave them."
"I know." Wu hung his head and nodded. "I know. Let’s do it."
Brooks patted him on the shoulder. "Good call, Sergeant." She turned back to Pietro and the young nun. "Does the bus run?" she asked in French.
"Yes," Pietro replied proudly. "Like a top!"
"Sweet. Sister, we need to move everyone to the bus. Can you get them ready?"
"Yes, I can!" Anne turned to the others and told them in that same stern voice that they would be leaving and to line up. The kids cheered loudly, and the Sister quieted them down again. Once they were ready, Anne told Brooks.
"Sergeant Wu, would you clear away some of the bodies?" Brooks said so the children couldn’t hear her. Wu nodded and headed outside. "Pietro, can you help the sergeant?"
"Yes, Captain." Pietro saluted her smartly and grabbed one of the male parents to help. As the two other men went outside, Brooks pulled the nun aside and spoke to her in a low tone. "When we get outside, have the children look straight ahead. There’s a lot of bodies out there."
"Thank you." Anne turned to the remaining group and repeated Brooks’ orders to the children. The kids seemed a little confused, but the parents seemed to understand the meaning behind the Sister’s words.
"Everything will be fine, Sister," Brooks told her.
"Anne. Just call me Anne."
"Anne." Brooks smiled. "I’m Lis. We have a good-sized cargo plane and a bunch of badasses with guns, so don’t worry."
"Best news I’ve heard all week." Suddenly, they heard the school bus roar to life.
"That’s our cue, Sister. Let’s go!"
Brooks drew her Beretta and pulled open the front door. The ragtag group of survivors started to fall in behind the captain and the nun. Wu was standing outside between the church and the bus and quickly signaled it was clear. Brooks gave him a thumbs up then turned to the group and spoke in French.
"Remember, children, look straight ahead at the bus. Do not look around." She stepped outside, knowing that Hale would be pissed, but she also knew that he would get over it.
CHAPTER 44: NOTHING PERSONAL
They were crawling through the tall grass. Arkady wat
ched as several zombies hungrily pulled themselves along the ground towards the mercenaries. The Russian commander noticed most of them were burned or still smoldering from the lab fire. Orlac had also seen the group of advancing undead and had stopped to gape at them. Arkady shoved him hard. The scientist let out a low whimper, glanced back at Arkady, and continued forward.
"Do not stop, Doctor." The Russian smiled. "They look very hungry."
"Smells like pork," Nico chuckled as he grabbed the female doctor by the hair. She screamed in pain as he gave her a good jerk then let go. "Quiet, love! We don’t want any more company.” He grabbed her by the waist. She tried to pull away, but he grabbed her tighter.
"Nico, later," Arkady said. "We need to keep going. We have a plane to catch."
"Da!" Nico grabbed let go of Doctor Moreno and pushed her ahead of him. "We will have plenty of time later, love!" He licked his lips. "It will be fun, my dear.” He laughed sarcastically.
"We need to hurry, or there won’t be a later," Kata said as she watched the furrows in the grass from the zombies that were trailing them. "They don’t get tired."
"But they are slow," Yuri said, walking behind his cousin.
"You are foolish, Yuri." Kata turned her eyes forward. "Speed does not matter sometimes. Those things are hungry, and sometimes, being hungry is an advantage."
"Kata is right, Yuri," Arkady said, picking up his pace a little. "Sometimes, motivation outweighs superiority." He pulled out an old K-bar knife he’d gotten on some mission years ago. "Here is motivation." Arkady, with a speed none of them knew he possessed, stabbed Doctor Henstridge in the stomach.
"Niles!" Orlac screamed, surprised.
"Nothing personal, Doctor." Arkady frowned and twisted the knife in Henstridge’s gut. The doctor tried to say something as he grabbed at the Russian's hand, but nothing came out. Arkady pulled the K-bar out of the Doctor and shoved him to the ground. Sensing or smelling the blood, the zombies began to crawl faster through the grass. The group could see several furrows in the high grass heading for Henstridge. Arkady wiped the bloody blade on his pants and shoved it back into its sheath. "Let us hurry now. The good doctor will only stay warm so long."
"You animal!" Orlac growled, but did not make a move at the mercenary.
"Animal?" Arkady grabbed Orlac by the right cheek. "Animal. I have just bought us some time. Do not waste it, Doctor!" He squeezed Orlac’s cheek hard then pushed him away. The doctor almost tumbled into the grass but caught himself. He didn’t want to be anywhere down there right now. Cheeks stinging, eyes watering, he looked over at Doctor Moreno. Nico was shoving her along and rubbing his crotch. Orlac found her eyes and saw that she had gone somewhere else, far away from this insane island. Defeated, the doctor quickly followed his captors away from the undead that would momentarily be feasting on his friend. Right then, Orlac didn’t know which was worse: the mercenaries or the zombies. As they double-timed it away from the area, all that could be heard was the horrible tearing and chewing noises coming from the grass.
CHAPTER 45: WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL THE SLOW ONES?
Hale and his team moved swiftly around the burning compound. All the buildings and vehicles were now consumed in flames. Black, thick smoke rolled upwards into the sky. Over four hundred deaders roamed around the inferno. About half of the undead were on fire or burned. Some of them were walking, burning skeletal figures. The group made their way to the holes in the fence they’d cut earlier in the day and began exiting through them.
"Mac, Winger, keep cover. Everyone else, through the fence." Mac and Winger turned at the rear of the group and raised their rifles. Six of the undead were running fast at them. The two men fired on the rapidly approaching deaders.
"Go! Go! Go!" Newman shouted. Wickham and Diamond were the first ones through, followed by Zoe West and the German. "Come on, mates, we ain’t fuckin’ around here!"
Gonzo, Cord, and the presidents both made it through the opening and headed down the trail to where the vehicles were parked.
"Shit!" Mac shouted as he slammed another magazine into his rifle. A crowd of thirty or more of the undead were running at them. "What the hell happened to all the slow ones?"
"Son of a bitch!" Hale turned back from the openings in the chain link. He brought up his mini-14 in time to fire off a couple of rounds into the crowd of runners. At this point, they would be overrun. He grabbed Newman by the harness and shoved him roughly through the opening.
"Aye, Major?" Newman stumbled to his feet on the other side of the fence. Hale grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and pushed him towards the hole in the fence line.
"Get down the hill!" he shouted. "Mac, Winger, let’s go!"
"Fuck it!" Mac fired several times as he moved backwards. "Fucking assholes!"
"Shit!" Winger dropped a magazine and jammed another in his rifle. The crowd was getting closer as the soldiers fired and stepped backwards in the major’s direction.
"Fire in the hole!" Hale yelled, and in a last-ditch effort he tossed a fragmentation grenade in the middle of the rushing mass of hungry dead. As the grenade exploded, Hale turned and squeezed through the opening in the fence, followed by Mac and Winger. The grenade stopped a few of the deaders, but those that hadn’t lost their legs continued after them. Bodies crashed into the chain-link fence in a frenzy. The fence groaned, creaked, and rattled as more and more of the needy mass grew and grew. Several of the undead found the openings in the fence line and aggressively pushed their way through it.
"Come on!" Hale shouted to the other two as he ran towards the trailhead. Mac followed, almost tripping in his hurry. Winger wasn’t so lucky and stumbled, crashing face first into the ground. Before he could get up, two of the fast deaders were on him. His rifle lost on the ground, he batted one of the hungry dead away with his free hand and kicked at the other while he tried to draw his Glock-19.
"Aw, shit!" Mac glanced over his shoulder and saw Winger on the ground, trying to fight off a couple of deaders. More of them were heading his way. "Major!"
Hale had almost started down the trail when he heard Mac yelling. The major turned to see Mac running back to where Winger lay struggling with the deaders. A whole lot more of them were pushing through the fence line. Hale raised his rifle and fired at the crowd.
"Fuck me!" he said, trying to stop as many as he could. Mac had made it to where Winger lay fighting the two flesh eaters. He smashed the one on his legs in the head until it slumped over and stopped moving. He swung his rifle like a bat, connecting with the second deader's head, sending him flying into the dirt, dead again.
"Winger!" Mac bent down.
"Shit! Shit!" Winger was grabbing his neck. The deader had taken a big bite out of it. Blood pulsed from between Winger’s fingers as he grabbed at the wound. Mac noticed the Australian had several bites on his arms and legs.
"Come on, Winger. I gotcha."
"Too late …" Winger groaned. The deader had torn into an artery. "Go, mate …" Winger let out a deep sigh, and he was gone. Mac could hear the approaching footfalls of the deaders. He looked up just in time to see a sprinting undead woman's head explode.
"Mac! Now!" Hale shouted from the trailhead as he shot another sprinter.
"Yeah, yeah." Mac stumbled backwards then ran at the trailhead full speed, followed by twenty or so runners. More deaders staggered behind those. Mac reached Hale’s position, and both men bolted down the trail, careful not to trip. The deaders tried to follow, but the path was too steep for their limited balance. Most of them fell and tumbled, breaking inelastic limbs. As the dead fell and crashed down the trail incline, the only noise they made was that horrible moaning. No grunts nor of groans of pain, just that unnerving, hungry moan.
CHAPTER 46: NOBODY STEALS OUR BABY
"That makes twenty," Sanchez said, dropping the binoculars to his chest. "Not bad for twenty-two shots."
"Eat me, beaner," Knox said as he stood up on the aft ramp. Crossley had lowered the ramp halfway so the soldiers could use
it as a sniper hide. "I got the sun in my eyes on those two I threw. Still hit them," Knox said, reloading his rifle.
"Your mind wasn’t in it, Gator." Sanchez bent down and scanned the airstrip with the binoculars. "Probably thinking about your favorite sheep back home." He squinted. "Looks clear, amigo. You definitely earned third-best sniper."
"I just got a little overconfident, Pancho.” He smiled and wiped some sweat from his brow. "Besides, who’s counting?"
"You are." Sanchez slapped him on the back. "Don’t worry. I won’t let any of the others know." He laughed.
"Fuck, Poncho!” Knox spat some chew onto the ramp.
"Just kidding, Gator. Chill, bro. That was some good shooting. Let’s close up the ramp. It’s hotter than hell out here."
"Right, right." Knox smiled and walked back into the cargo hold of the plane. Sanchez grabbed up the ramp remote and pressed the button to close. The aft ramp slowly rose up and shut. Both men could feel the cool air from the plane's air conditioning system start to kick in. It still wasn’t cold because of proximity, but it was a lot better than the tropical heat outside.
"Get them all?" Crossley asked, climbing down the ladder to the cargo bay.
"Yeah," Knox nodded as he popped open a water bottle. "We shouldn’t have to worry about any deaders for a while."
"Until more show up," Crossley said as he stepped to the deck. He glanced at his watch. "It’s getting late, guys. Any word from the general?"
"The major?" Sanchez was unwrapping a power bar. "Not yet."
"Probably wrapping shit up." Knox took a swig from his water bottle then wiped his mouth. "We should be heading home soon."
"I hope so." Crossley opened up a locker and reached inside. Sanchez took a bite out of his power bar as his headset clicked to life.