Anvil

by Dirk Patton

  He came in slow, losing altitude as we approached the truck. I had time to scan the area for infected and was very happy to not see any. But, I reminded myself, it’s always the ones you don’t see that can ruin your day. In hindsight, I should have had one of the Rangers tag along to keep an eye on my back while I pulled a battery out of the truck.

  The line came down as we lost altitude and I stepped into nearly ankle deep mud with my free boot. Making sure my other foot was clear of the loop, I took a step away before calling the all clear. It quickly disappeared above my head and I ran to the truck as fast as I could through the soupy earth.

  The Dodge was locked up tight so I smashed out the driver’s window with the stock of my rifle after looking into the cab to make sure there wasn’t an infected waiting to grab me. Reaching through the opening, I popped the door open and a goddamn alarm began wailing. Are you fucking kidding me? Someone put an alarm on a beat up piece of shit like this? Well, at least I knew the batteries had some juice in them.

  I fumbled around the driver’s side foot well until I located the hood release, pulling it and feeling the click through the body of the truck when the catch opened. Moving through the muck, I pushed the night vision goggles off my face and turned on my light to see better. It only took a moment to spot the fucking alarm siren and rip the wires out of it. The absence of the noise was almost a physical relief.

  “Dog one, don’t know what you did, but you got company coming. Females at the fence about three hundred yards north of your location,” the pilot’s voice was loud in my earpiece as I began working on the nuts securing the vehicle’s electrical cables to the battery terminals.

  “Copy,” I answered, not pausing or looking up from my work.

  Sweat broke out all across my head as I forced myself to concentrate on what I was doing. My splinted fingers slowed the work, pain shooting all the way to my shoulder, but I didn’t take my attention off the battery. If I looked up or worried about the infected breaching the fence, it would just slow me down.

  “Fence is down. You’ve got a whole bunch of runners heading your way,” the pilot called.

  “Copy,” I breathed as the nut for the positive terminal loosened enough to allow me to yank the cable free.

  It took about the same amount of time to remove the negative terminal, then I had to figure out how the bracket that held the battery in place operated. Several precious moments were wasted as I peered at it from several angles and ran my hand over it looking for a release. I couldn’t find it.

  The Black Hawk came into a hover directly over me as I worked, opening up with its minigun. Short, controlled bursts. I knew they were low on ammo for the weapon and hoped they didn’t run out before I was back in the air.

  With a curse, I gave up on figuring out how to release the bracket. Pulling my Kukri, I jammed it between the heavy plastic arm and the top of the battery and twisted as I pulled up. The bracket bent, but whatever the fucking stuff was that Dodge had used to make it was tough as hell. It didn’t break and didn’t pop free.

  “More runners coming from the north, and south fence is breached. You’ve got about twenty seconds.”

  The Black Hawk wasn’t firing the minigun any longer, rather a couple of unsuppressed rifles began shooting. Were they out of ammo? I didn’t have time to worry about it. This goddamn battery had to come out and I was out of time.

  “Fuuuuck,” I grunted as I used two hands to lever the Kukri up.

  There was a loud snap as the bracket parted. Sheathing the Kukri, I reached in and grabbed the heavy block that was the battery. With a grunt I lifted it free and set it on the ground, whipping the piece of rope out of my pocket.

  “Ten seconds.” I heard.

  Frantically, I wrapped a couple of loops around the battery, pulled them tight and spun the free end of the rope around my left wrist and hand. The same hand with the broken fingers. Looking up for the first time I saw an entire phalanx of females almost upon me. When they saw me, screams erupted from hundreds of throats.

  Lunging, I grasped the extraction line which was dangling five feet from the front bumper of the truck. I jammed my foot in the loop and stepped up, my left arm jerking hard against the weight of the battery.

  “Go!” I screamed as three of the leading females leapt.

  The pilot fed in power and I was yanked skyward so fast the leg that was standing in the loop nearly buckled. The heavy battery came with me, my shoulder feeling like it momentarily pulled out of its socket. Then, two of the three females slammed into me.

  41

  If my foot wasn’t tangled in the loop, the impact from the females would have torn it free of the rope. As it was, I nearly lost my grip with my free hand, which would have left me hanging upside down, swinging by one leg. Spinning and swaying like a pendulum, I began kicking with my free foot. I could tell I was striking flesh with the heavy boot, but had no idea if it was doing any good.

  But giving up wasn’t an option, so I kept at it. Strong hands grasped the single leg that was all that was supporting the weight of three bodies and a heavy ass battery. Those hands were reaching up, trying to grasp my belt, and I got lucky with one of my kicks. As the female was reaching for a better grip, my foot knocked her other hand free and she fell away, disappearing into what had quickly become a seething mass of infected.

  There was still one holding on, and the bitch was wrapped around my leg like a python with one of her arms. With the other, she was reaching, flailing for a higher purchase on my body. She was positioned on the outside of my leg and I couldn’t kick her. Trying to think of a way to reach a blade or my pistol, I was reminded I had a fifty-pound block dangling from my left wrist.

  Shifting the angle of my body, I began trying to swing the battery. I hoped to be able to gain enough momentum to smash it into the female and knock her off. As I struggled with the ungainly weight on the end of the rope, she managed to get a fingertip grip on my belt. Shifting her weight, she inched up my leg and began biting. Only the tough fabric saved me from being torn open, the pain from the bite pressure dumping even more adrenaline into my bloodstream.

  I finally got the battery swinging, its weight causing me and the female to twist on the end of the extraction line. She was snarling and tearing at my leg, and I panicked when I felt and heard fabric tearing. She was getting through and about to sink her teeth into bare flesh!

  Twisting harder, I swung with the momentum of the battery as it came around us. In slow motion I watched it slam into the female’s ribs, the impact substantial enough that I felt it in my leg. She was knocked free from her grasp on my leg, beginning to fall. Her arms reached out and I watched as she began to drop away, crying out in pain when she succeeded in wrapping an arm around the battery.

  Her entire weight suddenly came on the rope secured to my wrist and I felt my shoulder come completely out of its socket. She screamed as she dangled beneath my feet, looking up at me with rage burning in her red eyes. I screamed back, the pain radiating from my shoulder intense enough that I would have dropped the battery if I could. But the rope was thoroughly wrapped up and there was no way I could let go until the weight came off and gave me some slack.

  I had time to remember that this was the same shoulder that had been dislocated twice when I was a much younger Soldier. Did that make it more susceptible to popping out of the socket? It sure made it ache when the weather was damp and cold, and right now all I could hope for was that the joint wasn’t being permanently damaged.

  Quickly, but not quickly enough, we were over the roof and I looked down to see the Rangers waiting for me. The pilot came down fast, then paused about twenty feet above the surface.

  “Shoot this fucking bitch!” I roared in pain.

  TJ raised his rifle and fired a single shot. A moment later her weight dropped off, only the battery swinging from the rope still dragging on my arm.

  “Put me down!” I shouted.

  The pilot did just that, lowering the Black Hawk
quickly. The battery hit the roof first, giving me a fraction of a second’s warning that I was next. My boots thumped onto the surface and I stumbled, saved from going down when Drago wrapped me up in his big arms. Hands fumbled with the extraction line, freeing my foot, then the helicopter moved away.

  Drago held me until I had my balance, then removed his hands but stayed close behind. Chico was already working on the rope that connected my hand to the battery, gently unwinding it from my bleeding wrist. When it came free, he grabbed the battery and moved it a few feet away.

  “Ready for this?” Dutch asked, standing in front of me and looking into my eyes. He already had his hands in place and I felt Drago grab me from behind.

  “Oh, fuck me not…” I started to say, but Dutch didn’t hesitate.

  With the right pressure and a sharp, hard pull, he popped my injured shoulder back into place. I might have said a few choice words about his lineage and his sexual proclivities towards animals, but when the joint snapped he took a quick step back and smiled. Drago released me, also stepping away.

  My shoulder throbbed, but at least it no longer felt like a molten knife was being inserted and twisted. Cautiously, I moved my arm to assure myself I still had use of it. It hurt like hell, but now it was a six on the pain scale, not a ten.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, looking up at Dutch.

  He nodded and seemed like he had something to say, but apparently thought better of it. Glancing around, I saw that Chico already had the battery at the parapet and was pulling up the rope so it could be lowered down to ground level. Looking at Drago, I nodded my thanks for his help and walked over to where Chico was busily working.

  Stepping to the edge, I glanced over. A small sea of infected was pressed up against the fence around the generators, and in several places it was beginning to bow inwards. I quickly stepped back so they didn’t try to push in harder to get to me.

  “Ready?” I asked Chico when he pulled the knot tight.

  “Hold on, sir.” I turned to look at Dutch who was shrugging out of his pack. “I’m going this time.”

  “The fuck you are,” I said.

  “Sir, your arm was just out of its socket. I don’t care how tough you are, it’s weak. You aren’t going to be able to climb down that rope and move a heavy battery around.”

  “Like hell I’m not,” I said, rolling my shoulder and nearly gasping in pain.

  “See?” Dutch said. “Mission first, sir.”

  I stared at him for a long moment, seething. Not because he had called me on being injured, but because he was right.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked, acknowledging to myself that I needed to sit this one out.

  “Chico educated me while you were out swinging with the local ladies,” he smiled and held up two lengths of heavy wire. “Stripped these out of that AC unit over there. Should do the trick.”

  I nodded, still not happy, but feeling pride that these guys hadn’t just sat on their ass waiting for me. They’d thought about what needed to be done and come up with what was needed to make it happen.

  Dutch smiled, adjusted the rifle slung on his back and walked to the parapet where Chico had just finished lowering the battery.

  “Watch your ass, Top,” Drago mumbled as Dutch grabbed the climbing rope and turned to begin his descent.

  I took up position with the three Rangers and we began picking off more females as Dutch scampered down the outside of the building. The infected became frenetic when they saw him, the fence groaning under the weight of their constant push.

  “Sam one-niner, Dog one. Any pellets left in your minigun?”

  I shot two females off the fence as I made the call.

  “Negative, Dog. Used them all up protecting you from the skanks.”

  Shit!

  “OK. Got anything else that’s close and will make a big boom?”

  If I couldn’t get direct fire support for Dutch, maybe another distraction would buy him some breathing room. I wanted to look down and check on his progress, but there were just too many females trying to scale the fence. I couldn’t let my attention waiver or one of them would make it over.

  “Stand by, Dog,” I heard in my earpiece, then a moment later another voice that it took me a moment to realize was Edwards.

  The Lieutenant didn’t have a rifle, so he was at the edge of the roof watching Dutch work. He must have realized none of us could spare a glance, so he was reporting on the progress.

  “He’s got the two batteries connected to each other and is running the jumper cables to the generator.”

  The infected were surging again, hands reaching for the top of the fence around the entire perimeter. I had stopped going for kill shots, settling for anything that would slow their advance. Arms and shoulders were weak points that didn’t require the precision of head shots. Less precision meant I could send more lead into the bodies below.

  I heard the Black Hawk fire, surprised the pilot had found a target so close. An instant later there was a brilliant flash as the missile detonated, then a fiery explosion a few hundred yards out in the parking lot rocked the night. There was a momentary pause in the assault on the fence by the infected as hundreds of males turned and began shambling towards the new noise.

  But this didn’t have the effect I had hoped for. The females could see Dutch and weren’t about to be pulled away by a loud light show. They had him cornered and were determined to reach him. As the males pushed through the tightly packed bodies, more females surged forward and filled the gaps they left behind.

  “Everything’s connected,” Edwards said, excitement making him sound like a junior high school kid.

  A couple of beats later I heard the whine of a large, heavy duty starter. The big diesel engine coughed, sputtered and went quiet. The starter whined again, for a long time. The engine finally began sputtering, this time continuing on in a very rough idle. It kept stuttering as the air in the lines was pulled to the cylinders.

  “Don’t let it die,” I repeated in my head several times as I shot three more females.

  If the engine stalled, it would probably be necessary to pull the fuel filter and prime it again, and there was no time for that. Also, the fuel line was outside the fenced area in no-man’s land. Holding my breath as I kept shooting, I heard it cough a couple of more times, then the idle slowly smoothed out. When the controller software detected the engine was ready, it revved the motor to a higher speed, holding it there to spin the big generator. Lights on the exterior wall of the building came to life.

  Females were screaming and charging in at a fever pitch. Just a few minutes ago we’d been able to knock them down as they reached the fence and began climbing. Now, with their renewed push, we were shooting them off the fence. Some of them were getting hands on the top rail, and I killed a couple that made it all the way up and thrust their heads above the barrier.

  “Dog two, fall back. You don’t have time to start the second one,” I shouted without slowing my rate of fire.

  “We don’t know if we have power to the servers,” he shouted back.

  I spared a glance in his direction, noting he was frantically yanking cables free as he prepared to move to the next generator.

  “That’s an order, First Sergeant,” I bellowed.

  “Sorry, sir. Your transmission is garbled,” Dutch replied.

  I shut up and kept firing. He was doing pretty much the same thing I would have done. We all knew this was critical, even though we didn’t know what it would accomplish. That’s life in the military. You don’t always know why something is important, you just know that it is.

  Three more females went down under my fire, one of them so far up that when she collapsed her body came to rest draped across the top rail. There was another groan from the fence but I didn’t have time to look for the spot it was coming from.

  “He’s got the batteries moved and is connecting them,” Edwards shouted.

  As soon as the Lieutenant finished
speaking, there was the loudest groan yet from the fence. This time it wasn’t just a complaint, it was a full on protest from the overstressed metal posts. It grew louder as two thick poles and the chain link stretched between them began bending inwards.

  TJ and Chico both switched to full auto and began hosing down the bodies that were frantically climbing the sloping path into the generator area. They were no longer trying to kill individual targets, rather hoping to damage the attacking bodies enough to buy a few more precious seconds for Dutch. Drago was still pouring fire onto the left side and I the right, but there were just too many infected.

  “Dutch, the fence is failing. Get out now!”

  Part of me knew it was pointless to shout the warning. He wasn’t going to budge until that second generator was up and running. But time ran out. With a horrific screech, the already compromised section of fence collapsed. Infected immediately began pouring in, reminding me of how water sluices over a barrier that has failed.

  As the first infected made it inside the fence, a starter whined. It kept whining as all four of us poured as much fire into the breach as possible. Females were killed, maimed and shredded, but we barely slowed the tide. The engine coughed once, twice, sputtered, then kept limping along, barely running.

  “He’s running for the rope!” Edwards screamed.

  But so were the females. They had Dutch spotted, and even though he was only a few feet away, he had to grab on and start climbing. He got both hands wrapped around the rope. Despite withering cover fire, multiple females slammed into him and pulled him to the ground before he was high enough to escape.

  More rushed in and in an instant I lost sight of him beneath the mob. Everyone stopped firing, staring in horror at the pile of bodies. Females were screeching their delight, but we all clearly heard the screams escaping from Dutch’s throat as they tore into his flesh. I kept my rifle aimed at the pile, waiting for a shot.