“At last, a fucking use for the bastards!” he muttered to himself.
He rejoined the survivors as they continued their retreat to the landing zone. Tracer fire hit down the alley, as more insurgents moved in to surround the beleaguered marines. Two of the riflemen were cut down before the rest could take cover. As they returned fire the telltale smoke trails of two RPG rockets blasted towards them.
“Come on!” shouted Sergeant Black as he lifted himself up and zigzagged down the narrow alley and into the open space beyond.
The marines followed, each firing short bursts behind them at the distant targets. As Sergeant Black left the outskirts of the town he slid down behind the first rocks he found. Lifting his weapon he fired repeatedly into the pursuing enemy, now unclear whether they were walking corpses or the Taliban. Either way they needed to die. The rest of the marines tumbled out of the dust and debris filled alley, first Torres, then Fernanda and then a massive blast. The entire alley disappeared in flashes of fire and smoke as multiple RPG rockets peppered the area. More gunfire hit the scene and it looked like nobody else could possibly survive.
Black, Torres and Fernanda all took cover in the rocks, taking pot shots at any targets as they emerged from the many alleys and lanes in the town. They were down to their rifles and M4s, no machineguns now left in their hands.
Sergeant Black lifted himself up carefully, still watching for survivors. The sound of an aircraft, possibly a helicopter could just be heard coming from the south. He turned to see how far away it was, by his estimate they had probably two minutes till it reached them. The LZ was literally thirty seconds jog from their position in the rocks though there was no sign of the marines or the LT.
Another explosion blasted the edge of the town. The three kept low, avoiding the debris and more frequent rifle fire. As the smoke and debris cleared an injured, but still standing, Winchester staggered out.
“Holy shit!” shouted Torres as he ran down to help the man.
Sergeant Black gave Fernanda a grim look.
“We need to get to the LZ, you give Torres a hand, I’ll look for the LT,” he ordered.
Black moved up to the ridge and the LZ whilst the other two marines moved down to help Winchester.
Black scrambled up the ridge, making it to the top in just seconds. He was astonished to find the position deserted. There were no weapons, equipment or marines. He scanned the area quickly but still no sign. As he turned to check on the progress of Winchester he spotted movement in the small blockhouse. He looked carefully, spotting the shape of a man inside. Without pausing he ran to the building and kicked open the door. Inside was the cowering figure of Lieutenant Wade. The Sergeant leaned towards him and grabbed the man, yanking him up and then dragged him out of the room.
“Sir, where is 1st Squad?” he shouted.
Lieutenant Wade muttered something incomprehensible. Sergeant Black, now lacking patience simply ignored the muttering and shouted at him.
“Where the fuck are they, Sir? Where are my men?”
The aircraft was now just a few hundred metres away. It was another of the V-22 Osprey tiltrotor aircraft. It circled the position and gunfire poured from the rear ramp position where a marine manned a machinegun.
The other three survivors were now up with Sergeant Black, watching both the Osprey and the distant town for hostiles.
“Sarge!” shouted Torres, pointing to the main street.
He turned to see a dull red Toyota Hilux pickup tearing down the road. On the bed of the truck were half a dozen insurgents, all heavily armed. The ground around the marines now threw up tonnes of debris as the Osprey came in low to land, its rear facing the marines and the gunner still shooting.
“Get in!” shouted Black as he led the group to the ramp.
In just seconds the marines were aboard and the aircraft was already climbing steadily away from the town. The gunner fired a few more shots then stopped as they moved out of range.
Lieutenant Wade sat alongside Black in the aircraft and had already started to regain some of his composure, now that the unit was safe and leaving the area. He looked around the aircraft and was about to speak when he uncontrollably spasmed. With a heavy cough a mouthful of congealed blood dripped out of his mouth onto the floor of the craft. Winchester and Torres moved back inside the Osprey whilst Sergeant Black lifted himself up to face the officer.
“You been bitten, Sir?” he asked suspiciously.
The officer looked at his left arm, cradling a wounded arm.
“It’s your fault you fucks. You abandoned me!” he cried.
Torres made a move towards him to punch the man, only to be stopped by Fernanda.
“He’s not worth it, man. Leave it for his court martial!”
Wade seemed disinterested by the unfolding drama. He looked around at them all.
“Court martial? Fuck you all, fuck you all, you disobeyed my orders!” he whined.
Sergeant Black pointed out through the open cargo ramp at something.
“Holy shit, did you see that?” he asked.
Wade turned around for a better view, squinting at the bright light from the unrelenting Afghan sun. Black gave a brief look at the filthy and exhausted marines, spotting the nod from Fernanda and with one swift motion slammed his boot into Wade’s lower back, knocking him out of the cabin and down the rear ramp. Wade turned around trying to grab at something, anything that would stop him falling. It was too late though and with one last stumble he fell from the rear of the Osprey, tumbling to the arid Afghan terrain below.
Fernanda watched him fall, shouting as she watched him drop, “Die you spineless fuck!”
It took only a few moments for Wade’s body to hit the ground, the impact on the hard ground instantly breaking his back. Blood spurted from his mouth and he choked on the blood in his lungs. He had just seconds to live and yet he struggled to look up at the bright sky. The mortally wounded officer spotted something approaching, it was the red Toyota.
As it stopped nearby a number of insurgents approached leaning down and pulling at him and his equipment. With a cough and one last splutter he died.
As the Taliban soldiers stripped the officer of his webbing and equipment the oldest noticed movement in the body. He leaned in closely, pushing the head back with his Kalashnikov. The man’s face was pale and blood was dripping from his mouth. Before he realised what was happening the American lurched forwards and sank his teeth into the militant’s throat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bristol, England
Driving through the suburbs of the city was a truly depressing sight. All around them were bodies, both dead and walking. Cars were scattered about the streets, the odd building was on fire, rubbish was scattered everywhere. The creatures were less of a problem now that they were in a car, but they couldn’t drive forever. Gary was driving as quickly as he could, considering the circumstances. Too slow and any chance of saving his family would be at risk, too fast and the danger of a collision or damage to the underside of the car increased.
“Get a fucking shift on, mate!” shouted Matt.
“Don’t push me, I’m going as fast as is sensible,” said Gary.
“Fuck sensible, put your foot down!” shouted Matt.
“Quit whining like a little girl and start taking this seriously!” shouted Gary.
As they approached a four way junction two vehicles raced past in front of them, with no caution for any other potential survivors. They were probably some of the few survivors in the area, but it was now every man for himself. As they passed the junction they could see a large scattering of creatures in the direction from where the vehicles had come from.
The area was eerily silent as they drove down dirty and bloodied streets, evading the creatures they encountered. It was a busy city that they were used to working in, now there was just the sound of the odd car that people were using to escape the devastation. They could hear the odd scream from shops and houses that they drove past, bu
t it was too late for those people.
“We’re just a few streets away now, so be ready,” said Gary.
“For what?” asked Matt.
“Honestly I don’t know, just be alert,” said Gary.
Turning the bend they found a several car pileup. A minibus was overturned and some other cars had smashed into it, there was no way through. Gary brought their car to a standstill, whilst thinking of the best response.
“Go around?” asked Matt.
“No, it’s only a short walk from here, and the car has too little fuel to get us far after we get to the house anyway,” said Gary.
“Fucking wonderful,” said Matt.
“Yeh, well come up with a better solution and we’ll do it,” said Gary.
“Alright, alright, let’s get on with it,” said Matt.
Gary cut the engine and the two men got out with their weapons. It was quite clear that any idiot could outrun these zombies, but the idea of being stuck on foot in a city full of them was a frightful thought.
“Stick close and follow me,” said Gary.
The two men walked up to the crashed vehicles and looked into the wrecked Mondeo that was closest to them. The driver was still sitting in his seat, keeled over the steering wheel. Matt looked in to see if the man was still alive, a natural instinct from their day job. His elbow guard knocked the pillar of the door and the driver suddenly twisted and looked up at Matt. The copper quickly leapt back in shock as he realised that it was a zombie. Fortunately, the creature was firmly trapped within the damaged vehicle, held in place by the steering column crushing its torso into the seat. It pulled in every direction to try and get free, desperate to reach the men.
“Jesus that was close,” said Matt.
“No shit, next time don’t get near to anything resembling a person without prodding them first,” said Gary.
“Fair play,” said Matt.
The two men climbed onto the bonnet of the car and used it as a stepping stone to get over the wreckage before them. Gary hoisted himself onto the overturned minibus to get a better look at their surroundings. He stood up on the chassis of the vehicle. Looking around he could see no signs of life, only a few staggering creatures.
“Mate, what are the chances your wife and kid are alive?” asked Matt.
“Don’t talk that way, we’ll know soon enough,” said Gary.
“And what if they’re zombies?” asked Matt.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Gary.
“You reckon you can handle it?” asked Matt.
“Fuck you, have some faith,” said Gary.
The men’s presence up high and visible was already attracting attention from nearby shamblers, compounded by the racket they’d made clambering onto the wreckage.
“Let’s move on,” said Gary.
They jumped down from the vehicle and headed on down the street, it wasn’t far now to Gary’s home. They were walking at a steady pace, approaching a bend with two creatures on it. Gary punched the first one in the face whilst holding his baton and connecting with the carbon fibre knuckles of his riot gloves. The zombie crashed to the ground, still alive, but at least out of the way.
Matt approached his as if to strike to the head, but re-directed at the last minute, hitting the creature’s knee cap dead on, the joint buckled and sent the creature onto its other knee. Whilst still in motion he swung the baton around and cracked his opponent on the back of the head, sending it face first and dead to the ground. They kept going along the street.
It was quite clear that they needed some better weapons. The batons were designed as semi-lethal weapons, but needed a lot of strength, effort and accuracy to kill a zombie. Not only that, but multiple blows were often needed, wasting valuable time.
“Mate, do you really think that your family could have survived this?” asked Matt.
“Don’t talk like that,” said Gary.
“I’m serious, what happens if we get there and find only zombies?” asked Matt.
“Then we’ll deal with it, just shut up!” said Gary.
“Great plan,” said Matt.
“Fuck you, just keep doing your part,” said Gary.
“So I’m just along to kill things?” asked Matt.
“For now, yes,” said Gary.
“So you got any weapons at home?” asked Matt.
“Oh yeh, I’ve a sawn off under the bed and a handgun in my sock drawer. What do you think?” said Gary.
“Alright, seriously though, what have you got?” asked Matt.
“A machete and a katana, that’s it,” said Gary.
“Well that’s better than nothing.”
The two men reached the corner of the street where they could see Gary’s home. Their hearts sunk as they could see a number of creatures going in through the smashed front door. There were likely to be more already inside the house. Gary’s attention was drawn to movement in the front window on the upper floor.
“Chris!” shouted Gary.
“What?” asked Matt.
“It’s my son!” said Gary.
Gary ran towards his house.
“Hang on mate, this is a shit plan,” said Matt.
“Just follow me!” shouted Gary.
It was indeed a terrible strategy, running into a house full of enemies, but Gary was thinking single-mindedly and Matt could not reason with him. Matt knew all too well now that splitting up could be the end of both of them, so despite the awful plan of attack, he could only follow and do his best.
They reached the front door. Gary hit the first creature from behind with his shield, smashing it into the door frame. He smashed his truncheon multiple times into the back of the zombie’s skull until the creature slid down the doorway, dead. Gary was no longer acting with the cool, calculated head he normally would, but as if in a frenzy. Going through the doorway he punched the face of an incoming creature, kicked it in the stomach, kneed it in the head and finally hit it to the floor with his shield. Before the creature could recover he smashed his truncheon onto the back of its skull with full force, trapping it between the weapon and the floor. The impact was hard, sending pain through his arm and especially his elbow.
It was already clear to them, that whilst they were quite capable of winning in combat against these zombies, they would quickly tire. Gary stepped over the body of the latest zombie and into the hallway of his house. It was narrow, only wide enough for one man, but it was already clogged by several creatures. The house was infested, and they were here for a reason. It was hopeful that at least one of Gary’s family was still alive, as the zombies showed such drive to get into the place.
Gary continually drove his way through the creatures before him. Several turned to face this new threat, or potential for blood. He kept them at bay with his shield, whilst continually striking until they were down on the floor. Matt struck the bodies as he reached them, just to be certain. Both men had witnessed the risk of not ensuring these beasts were fully dead.
The living room and hallway were now awash with bodies and blood. Gary finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Looking up he could see a zombie beating on the door where he’d seen his son. The creature turned as it was alerted by the policeman’s presence.
Gary finally realised what he now faced, the bloodthirsty creature before him was his wife. Blood dripped from her jaw, her clothes were torn and dirty, her flesh ripped and cut. Gary couldn’t move or speak, he was in too much shock.
“What is it, mate?” asked Matt.
“That’s Sandra,” said Gary.
“Your wife?” asked Matt.
Gary nodded slowly as the creature began to stagger down the steps towards him. He was still unable to move, his weapons hanging at his sides.
“Mate, you’re going to have to do something,” said Matt.
“Like what?” asked Gary.
“Kill the bitch,” said Matt.
“That’s my wife!” shouted Gary.
“Not anym
ore, she’s a zombie who’s stopping you getting to your son!” shouted Matt.
His former wife was now halfway down the stairs but Gary had still made no move at all, completely stunned and shocked by the situation. He’d gone from utter frenzy to depressive nothingness.
“Then get out the way and let me do it,” said Matt.
“No, this is my job,” said Gary.
“Good, you’re doing her a favour, she would never want to be this way,” said Matt.
“That doesn’t make it any easier,” said Gary.
“It should do, you’ll be doing the kindest thing, now man the fuck up and do what you know you have to do!” shouted Matt.
Sandra was just two steps from the bottom of the stairs where Gary stood as he lifted his baton. He could not bring himself to kill his wife, even if she was now a zombie. She reached him and grabbed at his shoulders. The creature was desperately trying to pull him closer in order to bite him, but he was keeping her at a distance with his shield pushed into her chest.
“Do it!” shouted Matt.
“No!” shouted Gary.
Matt stepped in closer and smashed his truncheon down onto the creature’s head, knocking her flat onto the stairs. He grabbed Gary’s chest armour and heaved him out of the way before finally smashing the baton down on the zombie’s head to finish her off. Gary, having regained his footing, ran at Matt, shoving him against the wall.
“What the hell are you doing?” shouted Gary.
“It had to be done and you know it,” said Matt.
“That was my wife!” shouted Gary.
“Not anymore!” replied Matt.
Gary released his hold on his friend and looked down at the bloody lifeless mess of his wife sprawled at the bottom of the stairs in their home. Gary had longed for action and adventure in his life, to break away from the boredom, but this was not at all what he’d anticipated.
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