Serrano’s voice sounded in their earpieces. “Enough showing off, Spider. Get moving.”
Without a word, Spider pulled his legs to the other side of the wall, grasped the top, and dropped down on the other side, landing on the small grass area within the courtyard. He reappeared seconds later at the gate, looking down at a small box which controlled the gate’s locking mechanism. His voice came over the comms. “Gate’s controlled through electromagnetism, but fails to the ‘locked’ position in the event of a power loss.”
Dash responded. “Is there a manual release?”
“Let me check.” He examined the back frame of the iron gate, looking for anything that might disengage the locking mechanism and let the gate swing freely. After a minute, he found a sliding bolt release near the bottom of the gate where its edge met the frame. Pulling it back, he felt a slight give in the gate’s tension. Dash pushed on the gate and it moved backward slowly. Dash slid through the opening, joining Spider inside the courtyard. The gate swung closed and the bolt’s spring-loaded mechanism re-engaged.
They looked at Reed momentarily, raising a hand before turning and heading towards the building’s entrance.
Speaking to Spider without keying the mic for his comms, Kim asked, “Think we’ll find the doctor in here?”
“No. But we gotta check.”
“I know. Just feels like we’re walking into a big-ass trap.”
“Agree. At least the buildings in Iraq are only a few stories.”
Kim looked at the blood leading up the walkway into the building. Where it reached the glass, the shards had been pushed to the left and right, as if something had been dragged through the pile. They stepped inside the threshold carefully, their weapons up at their shoulders in the ready position. There was a counter with a desk behind it to the right. Against the wall was a large splatter of blood, with small grey particles mixed in, sticking to the wall. Looking over the counter, Kim saw a security guard on the floor, next to a fallen chair. The top half of the man’s head was missing, and Kim was pretty certain the majority of it was on the wall.
Straight ahead steps ascended to a bank of three elevators. There, the hallway broke left and right, disappearing beyond their view. The streak of blood continued through the lobby of the building and up the steps.
“See the fire escape diagram?” Spider asked, moving his gun left and right as he searched.
“No, but in a building like this it probably wouldn’t be in the lobby. Building’s owners are probably more worried about aesthetics than fire safety. Let’s check around the corner near the elevators.”
“Roger.”
They slid up the stairs, keeping their rifles at the ready as they hugged the wall, remaining clear of the red streak. There were three low steps, followed by a landing, then three more low steps before the elevators. Pausing on the landing, Dash put his hand up with his fist closed, causing Spider to stop. Dash keyed his mic, speaking in a low voice.
“Hey, Doc, what’s the real risk with stepping on blood? There’s a lot of it in here, and if shit goes sideways, we ain’t gonna be able to worry about where we step.” Spider nodded in agreement.
In their headsets, Doctor Reed’s voice came through. “Skin contact is the main concern. If it gets on any part of your boots or clothing, it’s alright as long as it can’t seep through. We can rinse it off after you get done.”
“Copy.”
Dash looked at Spider, then nodded. They continued up the stairs, reaching the hallway. As Spider predicted, the emergency egress diagram was there. It showed stairwells on both ends of the building. The men each looked to their side, evaluating the way ahead. Both hallways looked like miniature war zones, with dead bodies, torn clothing, and various broken items on the floor. Near the bodies, lamps, vases, chair legs, and knives littered the floor, evidence that the items had been used either in defense or for the assault. Along either hallway, doors were open, allowing light to shine through, providing some visibility, but also introducing risk. From where they were, there was no telling whether or not the condos were empty or still held infected people, ready to attack.
Using hand signals, Dash asked Spider which route he preferred. Both hallways looked equally bad. Shrugging, Spider pointed to the right. Moving slowly and silently down the hallway, they kept their rifles up, ready to engage as they moved. They stayed near the wall as they approached each door, minimizing their ability to be seen. Reaching the first door, Kim held his hand up in a fist, stopping them. He counted to three, then swung quickly in front of the door, rifle out, ready to fire. Inside the space was overturned furniture, broken glass, and blood, but no signs of life.
Looking at the open door, he realized they had a dilemma. Closing the door would help keep their presence from anything or anyone, should they still remain inside the condominium, but it would also reduce the amount of light in the hallway. If they closed each door along the way, by the time they reached the end of the hallway, the space would be completely dark. They could switch to Night Vision Goggles if it got too dark, but moving from dark to light with NVGs on got dangerous as sudden overexposure to light caused temporary blindness as the pupils tried to readjust.
Although it would add time, he decided to clear three of the seven condos with open doors. That would allow them to leave those doors open, providing light for the hallway. Motioning for Spider to follow, he stepped inside the condo, immediately placing his back against the wall. He moved forward slowly, sidestepping as he did to ensure his feet would always be firmly planted should he need to engage an enemy. Spider followed him into the space, sidestepping as he maintained his combat posture. The door opened into the living room with a large picture window looking out onto the courtyard. The couches were knocked sideways, lamps and end tables had been thrown aside, breaking as they fell, and the coffee table’s glass top was shattered. Dash saw no signs of blood, however, and he wondered if the occupant had managed to escape.
To the right, a small hallway led to the bedrooms, while to the left, the space opened to what they assumed was the kitchen area around the corner. He motioned for Spider to check the bedrooms while he worked around to the kitchen.
Swinging around the corner he faced an empty kitchen that looked weirdly normal. Nothing was out of place. The counters were clean, the sink empty, the floor spotless. It shouldn’t have been the surprise that it was, but times had changed.
Normal now was death and destruction.
He stepped over to the refrigerator and opened it, only to be greeted by the smell of rotting food. Seeing a handful of water bottles, he grabbed two quickly before closing the door. Returning to the living room, he saw Spider return from the bedrooms, giving him a thumbs up. He held out a water bottle, which the man accepted. They each drained the bottles, then tossed them on the couch before returning to the hallway.
They continued down the hallway, clearing three of the living spaces while simply closing the door for the other four. In the last open condo before the stairs, the pair huddled in the condominium’s kitchen, checking in with Serrano. Dash had already keyed the mic on two occasions to indicate they were occupied, so they decided to use this opportunity to communicate more openly.
“Serrano.” Their lead responded.
“Dash here. We’re in a condo right near the stairwell. Place is a mess. Lots of signs of struggle, dead bodies and broken shit everywhere.”
“Copy. Any hostiles?”
“None so far.”
“Copy.”
“Moving on. Out.”
Dash pressed the button on his headset, turning off the mic. He nodded to Spider and the two men moved out. They left the condo, looking both ways before crossing over to the door to the stairwell. It had the standard push-bar opening mechanism, which was annoying loud, but Dash pressed it as slowly as possible until he felt the mechanism release. He pushed his shoulder against the door, opening it slowly, while Spider aimed his rifle past him towards the opening.
&nb
sp; Finding no resistance, Dash stepped into the stairwell, looking up towards the landing as he held his hand out to hold Spider in place while he searched. He ascended to the first landing, looking up to the second floor entrance to verify there were no hostiles close by before motioning for the man to join him. Spider stepped into the stairwell, quietly closing the door behind him. He climbed the steps to fall in behind Dash, tapping the man’s back to let him know when he was in position.
Together the two men climbed from the first floor to the eighth, passing dead bodies along the way. A few of the dead looked to have been infected; like the victims, their bodies were torn, twisted, and bloodied, but unlike those they’d killed, their hands, mouths and neck were covered in the blood of those they’d attacked, their faces frozen for eternity in a snarl as their lives had left them.
When they reached the eighth floor, they again checked in with Serrano to pass on their status, not bothering to relay what they’d seen. It was as expected.
Pulling the door to the eighth floor hallway open slowly, they were again met by the sight and smell of death. On the floor directly in front of the door was a woman, her hand still outstretched, reaching for the entrance to the stairwell. The back of her head had been smashed in by a blunt object.
Beyond the woman’s body, the hallway looked much the same as the first floor hallway. Like the first floor, there were bodies and broken household items littering the floor, and like the first floor, a number of doors had been left hanging open, though the number was less on this floor, only six as opposed to seven.
Stepping around the woman, Dash and Spider made their way down the hallway, clearing half of the condos as they went, closing the door to the other half.
In the last apartment they cleared, they found a number of dead infected people. From the position of the bodies and the injuries each had endured, it was clear they’d turned on each other, fighting amongst themselves until each had been dealt a fatal blow. There were twelve in all, their bodies strewn about the apartment as if thrown about by a hurricane. The battle had been horrific, as evidenced by the broken couch, dining and coffee tables, and chairs. Even the large LCD television mounted on the wall had been unable to escape damage, its screen broken, a spider web-like crack extending in all directions from the point of impact.
“Shit.” Spider said, shaking his head. “These things are without reason once they turn, aren’t they?”
Dash nodded. “Just like Doc said.”
They checked in with Serrano, letting him know their position.
“Keep moving, the building next to you is burning fast.”
“Roger.” Both men switched off their microphones, stepping back out of the apartment into the hallway. Looking to their right, they could see the burning building outside the window. Serrano was right, of course. The building was fully engulfed in flames, long orange and red flames extending from the windows, reaching skyward.
“Let’s go.” Dash said, leading the way back down the hall.
When they reached 823, they paused and knocked, which seemed silly given the circumstances. Nevertheless, if the man was holed up in the apartment, fearing for his life, who knew how he would react when two armed men in combat fatigues came bursting through his door?
Dash knocked a second time, waiting patiently while Spider kept a lookout. After a full two minutes from the first knock, Dash pulled his right leg back and pistoned it forward at the point just inside of the doorknob. The door gave way, slamming open, the portion holding the doorknob and lock hanging from it loosely. The two men made their way into the apartment, scanning left and right as they did. They cleared it first, checking each room to make sure neither Doctor Roberts, anyone, or anything else was lying in wait, then made quick contact with Serrano to let him know they were in.
Down on the street level, Serrano’s earpiece sounded. It was Dash’s voice.
“Chili, we’re in. No sign of Roberts.”
Serrano looked over to Doctor Reed, making sure he’d heard. The doctor nodded, looking disappointed.
“Copy. Search the place for the items Doctor Reed mentioned, then — oh SHIT!!!”
A loud CRACK! Sounded as the support beams in the neighboring building gave way. Doctor Reed rushed out onto the street to join him, temporarily forgetting the security measures the man had implicitly laid out, but Serrano had no time to correct his actions.
Together, they watched as the building began to fall, tipping sideways. It seemed to happen in slow motion as they watched. Burned beams, bent steel, and crushed concrete shot outward from the lower part of the building as it toppled sideways - into the building that housed Doctor Roberts. It crashed into the other building, striking it on the seventh through eleventh floor with a massive force, rocking the building on its foundation.
Serrano and Reed watched as Doctor Roberts's condominium building began to lean away from the point of impact, tilting awkwardly.
What they saw next was worse.
The infected that had been cooped up inside the burning building, unable to fight through the fire, flew out of the upper part of the burning building crashing through windows as they flooded into the other building. There were dozens and dozens of them, flowing into the other building like a crazed colony of ants.
Serrano shouted into his mic: “Dash, Spider, get the fuck out NOW!!!”
“—-oh SHIT!!” Was the last thing Dash and Spider heard from Serrano before they were knocked off their feet by the impact of the adjacent building crashing into the one they were in. Pictures fell from the wall, glasses fell from cupboards, furniture toppled as the building was rocked sideways. The two men tumbled, falling to the floor as they used their hands to keep hold of their weapons. Trained as they were, they knew how to fall, and avoided any major injuries as they did. Within seconds, they were on their feet, looking at each other in bewilderment.
“What the fuck?” Spider said, looking around.
“Hold on.” Dash held his hands out, trying to steady himself as he felt the floor underneath them beginning to tilt.
Their headsets crackled as Chili’s voice came through. “Dash, Spider, get the fuck out NOW!!!”
Spider and Dash both heard the sounds of glass breaking all along the side of the building, followed by the sounds of thumping and scratching. “Shit!” Dash said, lunging to the door. He opened it, intent on checking to see if the path to the stairwell was clear. Smoke and dust filled the air in the hallway, making it impossible to see. He stepped out into the hallway, feeling the heat coming from the burning building that leaned against theirs. He brought his free hand up, trying to shield his face from the heat.
Thumping and scratching increased into a crescendo as the infected rushed him, appearing suddenly out of the smoke. He barely had time to bring his rifle up, pulling and holding the trigger as he aimed it at the rushing mass of bodies. The barrel spit out 30 rounds in less than fifteen seconds, puncturing muscles, shredding organs, and shattering bones.
It wasn’t enough.
Petty Officer First Class Henry Kim, aka Dash, went down under the mass of infected that overpowered him. Hands grabbed at him, ripping away his weapon, helmet, and goggles. His head was slammed into the thinly carpeted floor again and again until he lost consciousness.
The beating didn’t stop until sometime after his final breath left him.
Spider slammed the door, wishing the lock still engaged. “Shit!” He threw the couch in front of the door, blocking it, then tipped over a massive bookcase to add to the weight. Realizing the balcony was his only way out, he rushed to the sliding glass door, keying his mic. “Dash is down! I repeat, Dash is down! They’re in the fucking building!”
Serrano’s voice came back. “Can Dash be rescued?”
“Negative! They got him. About ten or twelve of them!” Opening the slider, he stepped through onto the balcony.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m on the balcony. Gonna climb down.”
; “Copy, I see you. Head to the right, you’ll be jumping down.”
“I got it. Piece of cake. That’s why ya’ll call me ‘Spider’, right?”
“That’s right. Hurry, though, buddy.”
“Will do.” Spider keyed off the mic, stepping to the four foot wall that enclosed the balcony. Looking over, he saw the adjacent balcony lower, about six feet away. If he could make it there, he could hang down and then drop to the balcony below. Repeating the process, he’d be able to descend the building.
The door shattered, sending bits of wood flying into the apartment as the infected poured through, climbing over the sofa, bookcase , and each other in a mad rush to get to him.
“Here we go.” He climbed onto the metal rail that topped the wall, setting his feet directly underneath him, then leapt forward. Open air surrounded him momentarily as he felt the wind ruffle his fatigue jacket before he crashed into the wall and railing of the adjacent balcony , taking the brunt of the impact with his Kevlar plated vest. His hands immediately grasped the railing tightly, holding on with trained efficiency, stopping him from sliding downward. As he looked down at where his legs dangled, he heard the screams of the infected behind him on the balcony he’d fled.
Remaining focused, he saw what he needed below him: a metal tube that extended outward from the edge of the balcony underneath. It was the crossbar that supported the extendable awning, and each balcony had one. He’d have to let go of the railing, slide downward freely, and catch the bar in his hands to stop his fall. From there, he could drop down onto the balcony, then repeat the process again and again until he reached the ground.
“Piece of cake.” He muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. He let go, sliding against the stucco covered balcony as he descended rapidly, feeling the pipe slide by his right leg. His eyes widened as he saw the pipe rapidly approaching and he brought both hands down, grabbing the pipe firmly, stopping his descent. His legs swung underneath him as he hung there, held in place only by his grip and the strength of the pipe, over one hundred feet from the ground.
Surviving Rage | Book 1 Page 55