by Allen Gamboa
"What the hell are you doing?" Orlac grumbled into his ear. The Russian ignored him.
"Captain?" Newman asked.
"Tie them both up and bring them aboard."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, we can always throw them into the ocean if we have to," Brooks said, staring the commander in the eyes.
"Good call," Arkady said.
Newman searched both men. Orlac had nothing but the biologic case. Arkady had a pistol and a blood-stained K-bar. The Aussie tucked both into his grimy vest then zip-tied them and ushered both men up the ramp. Newman found it strange that the Russian was more eager to get aboard than the scientist. The Aussie escorted the two over to a bench and shoved them both down onto it.
"Don’t fucking get up," Newman growled.
"What about those seats over there?" Arkady jerked his head over to where the presidents sat reloading their weapons.
"This is you," Newman pointed down at the bench with his rifle.
"Five minutes!" Jackson shouted. He had climbed down into the cargo hold to find the captain. "Five minutes."
"I know." Brooks looked at her watch again. "Any sign of the Pit Bull?"
"No, nothing but a whole bunch of anxious deaders headed this way." Jackson pointed a thick finger at the two men on the bench. "Who the hell are they?"
"Assholes. We’re trying to find out what kind of assholes," she said within earshot of the men, already knowing the answer. "Can you open the aft ramp in flight on this plane?"
"Of course, Captain."
"Good." From her peripheral, she saw Orlac swallow nervously. Brooks then knew something was definitely up with the scientist. "Good to know."
"I better get back up top." Jackson smiled sadly as he took in what was left of the small group of soldiers. "Sorry, Captain."
"Thanks, Jackson," she said, nodding somberly.
"Captain!" Sanchez yelled from where he was posted on the ramp. "We gotta close the back door. There are too many deaders out there now."
"Close her up," she said, looking at her watch. Four minutes.
"Rough day, Captain?" Arkady grinned at the fatigued officer. The small, gloved fist to the jaw was totally unexpected and quite painful.
CHAPTER 71: TIME HAS COME TODAY
Crossley could see at least two hundred deaders staggering around the airstrip. Some were walking, some trying to walk, and others were crawling or doing something like crawling. Most were moving toward the plane. Nate finished his last systems check then glanced at his watch.
"Three minutes."
"Yep." Jackson finished up his check. He was breathing a little heavy from just coming from the cargo hold. "That damn song keeps going through my head," he said, thumping the fuel gauge.
"What song?"
"Time!" He said a little too loudly. "You know, there’s like a ticking clock and the dude says, 'Time!'"
"Oh, yeah. Time!" Crossley sang, "Time … something … something … time!"
"That’s it," Jackson said, bobbing his head to imaginary music.
"Yeah, I hate that fucking song."
"Aw, Nate, is there anything you do like?"
"Yeah, but she ain’t here."
"Time!" Jackson shouted.
"Will ya shut up?"
"No." Jackson frowned. "It’s time." He raised his hand, indicating his beat-up watch.
"Shit!" Crossley said, glancing out the windshield.
"I know it’s fucked up leaving …"
"Shut up," Crossley said as he excitedly pointed out toward the nose of the plane.
"No way!" The co-pilot leaned forward to get a better look. On the runway was the Pit Bull, speeding directly for them. "They better hurry up!"
"Tell the captain." Before he could finish, Jackson was out the door and climbing down the ladder to the cargo hold.
"Captain," he shouted, zipping over to where the survivors were assembled. "Captain! The Pit Bull is heading this way!"
"Son of a bitch!" Newman jumped up from his seat and ran over to where Sanchez stood, holding the ramp remote. "Lower it part way!" the Aussie told him excitedly.
"Jefferson, watch the prisoners. Washington, cover the ramp," Brooks said, slapping a fresh magazine into her mini. "Maybe something good will come of this day after all."
As the ramp slowly descended, the soldiers could see a small crowd of deaders gathering beneath. Sanchez stopped the hatchway about eight feet from the ground. The moans and stench of the living dead were starting to waft into the cargo hold.
"When you see the Pit Bull, lower the ramp," Brooks told Sanchez . "The rest of us, kill as many of those dead fucks as you can." The men nodded. A few seconds later, they could see the roof of the Pit Bull. Sanchez dropped the ramp all the way down. Several deaders climbed up but were quickly taken down by a hail of gunfire. The fuel truck was sitting in the way of the tactical vehicle. Whoever was driving the Pit Bull slowly pushed the fuel truck aside and squeezed the big vehicle up inside the ramp. The team continued to fire on the big crowd of deaders, but a few fast movers made their way inside the plane despite all the rifles.
"Ramp lights off!" Jackson shouted.
"’Bout fucking time!" Crossley said, starting to move the plane through the crowds of deaders. The heavy tires of the aircraft squashed the flesh eaters beneath them. "Hold on!"
"We have deaders inside the plane!" Newman shouted as he ran toward the Pit Bull.
"Poncho, secure the Pit Bull." Brooks shot a deader that was hanging on the back of the vehicle. The cannibal's head vanished, and it fell to the deck. As the plane started to shake and vibrate, Sanchez and Washington quickly tried to strap the Pit Bull down. Jefferson ran over to help them. If the heavy vehicle wasn’t secure, they could have some big problems. Another shot rang out in the hold. Newman had put down another deader.
"Help!"
"Fucking zombie!" Arkady shouted. A couple of the deaders had found the zip-tied men and quickly set upon them. Orlac screamed as a zombie took a big bite out of his arm. Blood flowed all over his dingy white lab coat. Arkady head-butted his attacker and tried to kick it away. The zombie grabbed at the Russian's legs and tried to bite him. The sharp end of a tactical machete sliced into the dead man's neck, taking the head clean off and stopping the attack. Another swipe of the machete decapitated the zombie feasting on the unconscious Orlac. Arkady stared up at the female captain, who held the bloody weapon in her hand.
"Thanks, Captain." Arkady grimaced. He had too many injuries to keep track of. Brooks just looked down at the two corpses and wiped her blade on one of the deader's backs, then turned back to her team.
"Clear?"
"Clear," Newman said.
"Let’s get everyone secured," Brooks told him as she hurried over to the Pit Bull. The side doors opened, and Wu and West climbed out. "Good to see you, Sergeants. Let’s get everybody strapped down. We’re still not out of the woods yet."
CHAPTER 72: TENTACLE PORN
"Here we go," Crossley said, pulling back on the aircraft's yoke.
"Goodbye, zombie island," Jackson said as the big plane shuddered and lifted off the deader-filled runway. The plane rocked a little and powered up into the late afternoon sky. Suddenly, an alarm klaxon sounded.
"What the hell?"
"Nate, we have incoming," Jackson said, glancing down at their radar. "Two planes. Wait … fucking drones!"
"Shit. Give this baby some gas!" Crossley said, pushing the throttle forward. “We can’t get caught in the shock wave.”
“No, no,” Jackson said, watching the blips get closer on the radar. “Come on, baby!”
***
As the big plane lifted into the sky, two small drones came from out of the clouds behind them. The two flat, black, unmanned aircraft flew in perfect formation, oblivious of the cargo plane and all the hungry dead below. From thousands of miles away, two college graduates, who had never flown any real aircraft, sat behind a simulator, controlling them.
Both drones dropped
their payloads and quickly zipped away. Seconds later, Eller Island and all its inhabitants ceased to exist as two gigantic fireballs cleansed the land of the evil virus.
***
The cargo plane's engines were pushed to the limit as Crossley tried to beat the shock wave from the island. He almost broke the throttle as he willed the plane higher and faster. The plane shook and rocked as it caught the tail end of the shock wave. The plane quickly lost altitude as one of the engines suddenly died.
"Lost number one … and two!" Jackson shouted, flicking several switches.
"Got it! Got it!" Crossley said, frantically trying to restart the engines. The plane started to lose more altitude. He knew it wasn’t an EMP burst because other systems were still working.
"God, please," Jackson said aloud as the plane dropped more. "I’ll give up tentacle porn if you save us."
"Tentacle porn?" Crossley continued to try and start the engines. "Is that a thing?"
"Please," Jackson said, still praying.
Suddenly the engines both roared to life, and the plane bounced then steadied itself. Crossley smiled and wiped the sweat from his face. "Hot damn, Jackson. The Lord does love ya!"
"Uh huh." Jackson sighed. "Thought that was it."
"Me too. Thankfully, we beat the EMP pulse. Damn!" He slapped the yoke with his hand. "This was a hard way to make five grand extra."
Jackson nodded and unstrapped himself. "I’ll go check on the passengers."
"Good idea. Hey, what the hell is tentacle porn anyway?"
"You don’t want to know," Jackson said, opening the cabin door.
CHAPTER 73: NOT EVEN IN COLLEGE
Once they had been in the air for little bit, Sister Anne was able to calm down the children and parents. Sanchez passed out a stack of MREs and a case of bottled water to the curious and excited little ones. The hungry kids cheered, thinking MREs were the greatest thing in the world. Sanchez laughed and thought, Wait until that’s all you have to eat for six months, but he just shook his head, happy to be alive and knowing they had at least been able to save these children. He finished distributing the chow and grabbed up a water bottle for himself. He popped the top and sat down in one of the jump seats.
"Gator," he said, raising up the bottle, "miss ya, partner. Hope you’re up there having a good time, driving around with the General Lee and that Daisy Dukes chick!" He took a drink then lay back in the seat. Hot, salty tears soon filled his eyes.
***
West had stripped off her blood-encrusted tac vest and harness. She pulled off her Strategic Securities shirt and tossed it in the pile with her other dirty gear. West still wore a sweat-drenched tank top, but it sure was a helluva lot more comfortable than everything else she’d been wearing.
"Here, Zoe." Jefferson handed her a pack of baby wipes. "Got a shit load of them in the medical locker."
"Cheers, mate," she said, taking the package. "I usually have one of these tucked in my kit." She ripped the seal open. "Didn’t think it would be one of those days." West quickly wiped her face and neck with the disposable cloth. She looked down at the wipe in her hand and couldn’t tell if it was black or dark red. Crumpling it up, she grabbed another and again wiped her face and neck.
"No one did." Jefferson pulled off his dirty shirt and dropped it to the floor. He reached into his pack and pulled out a clean Giants T-shirt. He glanced down at his stained and torn BDUs. "Can’t plan for everything."
"Sure can’t." West reached down and removed her right prosthetic. "Now, that feels bloody good."
"What the hell happened today, Zoe?"
"A lotta bullshit, mate." She pulled her other leg off and sighed. "I sure would like a go at that Russian bastard though. Let him hurt somethin' bad."
"I feel ya, Zoe. Someone needs to pay." He stood up. "I guess it won’t do much good stewin' on it right now."
"It won’t, Jeff." West started to rub some cream on her swollen legs. "Try and get some sleep before we hit stateside. It’s been one long and terrible day."
"Thanks, Zoe." Jefferson walked over to where Washington sat trying to sleep. His partner had a clean boonie hat pulled over his eyes. The big grunt was shirtless but still wearing his gore-encrusted pants. Jefferson sat down heavily in the jumpseat next to him. Washington pushed his hat back so he could see who had sat down. Hoping against hope that it was the nun, the shirtless soldier sat up, a little disappointed.
"Jeff, you okay, brotha?" he asked groggily.
"Hell, I don’t know. Guess I’m still spinning from all of today's shit."
"Yeah, it was a real number ten. I think this here will be my last mission, bro."
"What?"
"Yeah. Hell, they can’t pay me enough to do this shit again." He slapped Jefferson on the knee. "Think I’ll go work mall security or somethin'. Shit, ain't no deaders in a mall!" He chuckled.
"Well, we did a good thing today," Jefferson said, nodding over to the kids and parents.
"Did we, bro?"
"Shit, Wash, we probably saved the fucking world too."
"Well, hell.” He laughed. "If that is true, then I think I'm gonna use that line to get laid. Think it'll work?"
"Sure, Wash." Jefferson popped a stick of gum in his mouth. "Except we can’t tell anyone."
"Of course. Hey, can I get some gum, Jeff?" He leaned forward. "My mouth tastes like I’ve been sucking cock all day."
"Huh?" Jefferson sat back, a puzzled look on his face. "What?"
Stone-faced, Washington said, "You ain’t ever sucked dick before?"
"No. Hell no!"
"Not even in college?"
"Wash." Jefferson stood up, holding his palms open in front of him. "I seen some horrible, weird shit today, but … damn. Just damn!" He shook his head and walked off.
"What about the gum?" Washington laughed. "You’re too easy, Jeff!" He shook his head and pulled the hat down over his eyes.
CHAPTER 74: IRONY
"I don’t think the doctor's going to make it," Arkady chuckled as he watched Sergeant Wu bandage Orlac's bite wound. The scientist was still unconscious and laid out on a blanket on the floor. Brooks and Newman stood over the sergeant as he worked. The captain slid one of the biologic cases next to Wu.
"The anti-virus is in here. We just need him to tell us which is which," Brooks said, crossing her muscular arms. She was wearing one of Hale's clean, oversized company shirts. Brooks was glad it had never been worn by the major. It would have broken her heart to smell him on it.
"Captain, my captain." Arkady shook his head. He was now zip-tied by one cuff to an alloy railing. The Russian was starting to look a little pale, and more blood was soaking through the dirty bandages. "I told you, I have something important to tell you, and I do. May I have some water first?"
"Arkady …"
"Please. Pavel. Water?" Newman shook his head and handed him the bottle he had just been drinking out of. Arkady took it and simply shrugged. Germs. What did it matter now? He quickly downed the water and handed the empty back to Newman. "Thank you."
"So what is so important, Arkady?" Brooks asked.
"Do you really know what this mission was about?"
"Sure.” She nudged one of the cases with her boot. "The new antidote."
"No, no, that is not it at all." He sat up straight and leaned forward. "You have heard of the Blackthorne Corporation, I am sure."
"Yeah, it’s owned by that billionaire, Ian Black. So?"
"Mister Black loves money probably more than he loves his own cock. Black has a lot of money, but he wants all the money. You know where Mali is?"
"Yes?" Brooks nodded, intrigued.
"A vast new oil field was discovered there earlier in the year. More oil than has ever been discovered in the past ten years. Russia was in talks with them to buy it. Mister Black wanted it for himself, so he devised a plan to get it."
"What the hell are you saying, mate?" Newman asked.
"This whole thing was a power play. Black has powe
rful government friends who owe him big. They came up with a super strain of the zombie virus that was immune to any antidote." Arkady smirked. "Matol Industries is owned by Blackthorne. So is Strategic Securities, along with this shit bag on the floor."
"You’re lying, Arkady," Brooks said impatiently.
"Am I? Listen, they wanted to release the virus in Mali so they could have their private army sweep in and sanitize the whole country and steal its new wealth of oil reserves."
"Sounds like a lot of money going out," Wu said, watching the unconscious doctor.
"It is," the Russian agreed. "The reward would be billions of dollars and power into Black's pocket. A small country in quarantine. You know with the UN laws after the undead outbreak, it would be open to unquestioned invasion and occupation."
"So what is your hand in this?" Brooks asked.
"We had a money-loving rat on the inside." The Russian kicked Orlac in the side. "Well, not at first. Orlac was all about the money and his new super virus. Black and Orlac lied to all their investors and partners about there even being an antidote." Arkady coughed. "Orlac's scientist didn’t even have a clue there was no cure. The deeper Orlac got in, the more he grew afraid of Black. He was pretty sure once the billionaire got all his research and could replicate it on his own, he would be killed. And …" Arkady frowned and bobbed his head, "he was right. The scaredy cat came running to my government for help and of course money."
"So your country wanted the virus."
"Not the virus. Well, the virus and the doctor. See, we had an interest in Mali too. Only it was a profitable one for both sides. Black wanted to just take it for his own. Virus outbreak be damned." The Russian coughed again.
"The virus in anyone's hands is …"
"Is not safe, Captain. See, Mother Russia was hit harder than most countries during that terrible outbreak. Many, many good people died. We wanted to destroy the virus and the good doctor and his research so it never happens again. My country, my people, paid too high of a price for it to happen again. You, see I am a bastard. I am a bad man, but …" he waved a finger and coughed, "above all, I am still a patriot."