by A. J. Sikes
Gallegos led the remains of her squad past trees that were nothing but charred sticks now. They passed the mounded wreckage of cars, vans, and emergency vehicles. A roadblock had been prepared at the intersection past the hospital, but it was all shoved aside and sent into the buildings by a bomb that had fallen on the street up ahead.
They crossed 1st Avenue, skirted the crater in the middle of 99th, and followed the weak trail of blood that Tucker left behind him. It was only drops now.
Gallegos figured they’d winged him or hit something non-vital. Any hit from a 7.62 would slow a body down, but Tucker clearly had enough stamina and resolve to get through a lot of shit and keep going. He had all the makings of a Marine except for honor and loyalty.
A staccato of footsteps erupted from the street in front of her. Gallegos couldn’t see the runner, but she beat her own rapid pace as she set out in pursuit. The street ended maybe thirty yards ahead, t-boning with a wide road along the riverside.
“You got eyes on him, Sergeant?” Welch called up from behind her. She didn’t take the time to reply, only waved her arm and hoped the others could see her signal in the fading evening light.
☣
Jed and Dom moved out after Sergeant G. She’d gone ahead to the street by the river and was turning the corner.
Shit, she’s going after him by herself. One is none, Sergeant. Shit!
He pushed himself to run faster and slapped Dom in the shoulder to keep the steam on. Matty and Jo stayed with them for a bit, but quickly fell back. Dom pulled up by a smashed car and Jed had no choice but to join him. If the suckers came after them again, they’d need the firepower from the 240.
But she’s out for blood by herself. Dammit, what do I do?
“Dom, wait for Matty and Jo. Cover them. Sergeant G’s on her own. I gotta—”
Small arms fire rattled into the evening air. Jed yelled for Jo and Matty to catch up fast before he sped off.
☣
Rounds came in her direction and Gallegos reeled away from the wall behind her, taking up a crouched position beside a newspaper box that had strangely remained undamaged, except for cracks in the glass. The front page still showed images of a football player that had been convicted of murder.
Gallegos focused on her surroundings again, and duck-walked forward, toward the roadway. She huddled behind a crumpled SUV and smaller car that had impacted head on. The SUV had lifted onto the hood of the other vehicle. A low dividing concrete barrier ran down the length of the road, and the cars were tight up against it. The best cover Gallegos could get in this area was right beside the cars. That assumed Tucker wasn’t up or down the road, but across it somewhere.
The only hint she had about his location was the direction his fire had come from. But that changed with each burst he sent her way. Chips of stone flew off the building at her back and one round pinged into the newspaper box.
Gallegos fired a burst up the street in the direction of Tucker’s fire.
If that’s where he is.
He’d spotted her first and she had no idea where he was hiding.
Bodies of dead suckers filled the street around her. A crater filled what used to be a parking lot at the intersection of 99th and the riverside drive. She slid and crawled over the shattered pavement, keeping low behind the vehicles as Tucker fired at her again. This time the rounds pattered against the hood of the SUV.
Another volley came in, puncturing the SUV’s driver side door with heavy thunks. Gallegos had a better idea where her foe was hiding now. She moved to her left, using the vehicle and dividing wall as cover and hoping that Tucker didn’t have the sense to anticipate her movement. He’d proven his conviction to his cause, but that didn’t mean he could read a battlefield. The insurgents Gallegos had tangled with were just as ready to do or die for what they believed in.
And they’d died just as easily as this motherfucker will.
The evening light had faded to dusk now, and Gallegos knew that meant she was all but invisible if she stayed still.
Unless he’s got night vision.
The blasted and shattered waterfront roadway filled with shadows as the sun dropped behind what was left of New York City.
Just this one last job to do. Just one last enemy to remove from the equation.
Tucker fired again, puncturing the doors of both cars this time. His burst was met with return fire from back the way Gallegos had come.
“Sergeant G!” Welch yelled from the shadows. “I got eyes on him! He’s behind the dirt pile! Covering you!”
Welch’s weapon chopped at the evening air and Tucker responded in kind. Gallegos spun around the rear end of the SUV and brought her weapon up. Rounds impacted on a debris pile in the street and Gallegos stepped into the open, following the line of the concrete dividing wall and making sure Welch could see her as she moved.
Keep up the fire, Welch.
More rounds peppered the earth and concrete. She advanced to the dividing wall and crouched there. Welch lit up the col-lab’s hiding spot with sustained bursts. Gallegos spotted movement, like a leg being tucked out of view around the mound of earth. Welch fired another volley and the dirt pile turned into a spray of pebbles, soil, and chips of shattered pavement.
Gallegos quickly mounted the dividing wall and dropped into a crouch on the other side, weapon up and focus open.
A rifle lifted over the dirt pile and sent a burst in Welch’s direction.
Gallegos stood and circled to flank the debris pile. She took a step to her left and looked through her sights into the eyes of a man wearing faded BDUs, a bandana around his head, and belts of ammunition crossed over his chest. Blood trailed down his neck and she could make out a furrow of angry red along his collar.
The man was aiming an old M16 in her direction.
She squeezed her trigger and felt her weapon kick just as she felt another, stronger kick against her left hip.
Gallegos spun around and fell onto her side. She screamed as searing pain exploded into her gut and down her left leg.
☣
Jed picked up from his prone position and charged forward, roaring with rage. He stopped once to fire a burst at the pile of dirt where Tucker had been hiding, then put everything he had into getting to Sergeant G. She’d fallen in the street and screamed out.
Tucker shot her. He fucking shot her. But she’s still good. She’s gotta be good. She’s alive. She’s not dead.
He all but fell to his knees beside her, setting down in a rush and slamming his weapon onto the pavement next to Sergeant G’s shoulder. He checked her wound. She’d been hit high in her leg on the outside, and it was bleeding like hell.
“Medic!” Jed hollered as loud as he could while he clamped his hands over the wound. She cried out and rolled away, but he held firm, clamping pressure around the bloodied area. He could feel her life welling and slipping between his fingers as he squeezed and he prayed.
Where the fuck is Dom? Why didn’t they stay closer? Shit!
“Did—did I get him, Welch? Tell me I got him.”
Jed remembered where Tucker had been hiding. He grabbed with one hand for his weapon and flashed a look at the dirt pile. A pair of legs stuck out from behind it. They weren’t moving.
“You got him, Sergeant. He’s dead. Medic!” he yelled again, clamping back down on her wound. He no longer cared if the sucker faces were about to come scrambling out of the shadows and eat him alive. Sergeant G’s life was all that mattered and saving it was the only thought Jed would allow in his mind.
Racing footsteps pattered in the street behind him. Matty or Dom was coming.
“Hang tight, Sergeant. Help’s coming,” he said as he pressed his hands tighter around the wound. Sergeant G groaned loud and angry, but she added her own hands to the task, pressing down on Jed’s.
☣
Welch kept pressure on the wound, and Gallegos did what she could to help him. Matty or Dom dropped down beside her head and she heard velcro, zippers, and
pouches being torn and then the pressure released around her hip. She gritted her teeth and growled against the pain as they cut her uniform away from the wound. Cold water splashed against her skin again and again.
She knew the round had tumbled or split up inside her. Her hip and abdomen burned an angry hot, like a blazing knife had been shoved into her side.
Jo shouted, “Get CELOX on it!”
Matty or Dom grunted something in reply. Words and sounds faded in Gallegos’ hearing. All she heard was a constant hum and scraping sound.
Finally a dressing was pushed onto the bullet hole and she realized she’d been grinding her teeth together so hard they hurt. Gallegos forced herself to lie still, letting the pain wash through her in waves.
“Give her some water,” Matty said.
Welch was there with a canteen that he tipped over her mouth, letting a trickle of cold water spill out.
“More,” she said and Welch complied.
Gallegos let the squad do their job. She’d done hers. They’d caught up to Tucker and taken him out. He got one last lucky shot in, but that was it. He was dead. The col-labs were all dead.
A loud pop came from behind her head. Then another.
One pair of hands that was holding the dressing over her wound fell away. Matty and Jo both screamed with fury. Gallegos pawed at her M4, trying to get it around to fire back toward the dirt pile, but she couldn’t move it. Something pressed against the barrel and held it down.
Welch had gone somewhere, out of her sight. Gallegos didn’t know where he was or who was around her anymore, and her hip was on fire.
Her vision clouded with shadows. A dull ache spread into her throat and rolled her eyes back until she fell into the darkness.
☣
Jed leaped for Tucker when he fired his first shot. It hit Dom in the chest and he slumped sideways, and then Jed was on top of the col-lab. Tucker got another shot off, but Jed had his hands around the man’s face and brought a knee up into his groin. Jed hit him with every pound of force and rage he’d been holding since he first saw the col-labs giving prisoners to the sucker faces. Tucker folded in on himself, trying to cover his dick, but Jed was faster and brought his knee up again in between Tucker’s hands.
“You killed them!” Jed roared. He lifted the col-lab’s head up and slammed it back down into the earth and rubble.
“You’re a shit! A fucking shit!”
“Jed!” Jo screamed behind him. He kept his grip on Tucker’s head, but turned and looked over his shoulder. Sergeant G was lying still on the ground. Dom was on his face beside her with blood pooling around him. Matty was taking care of Sergeant G, and Jo was holding an M9, aimed at Jed.
“Move out of the way, Jed,” she said.
He did, rolling off to the side and grabbing the revolver Tucker had shot Dom with. Sergeant G’s shot had hit his right arm. Blood soaked his sleeve and he held the arm limply against his side. His M16 was on the ground beside his hip. Jed snatched it away before the col-lab could reach for it.
“Only wanted to protect my boy,” Tucker said. “Only wanted to make sure he survived and—”
Jo shot him in the chest. He slumped sideways and looked at her like he couldn’t believe what just happened.
“We felt the same way about everyone who died trying to stop you.”
“You’re a—medic,” Tucker said. He sucked in a gurgling breath. “You . . . you’re supposed to save me.”
Jo shot him again, in the head this time. She threw the pistol toward the river with a roar. Then she fell to a crouch, slid down on her heels, and sobbed. Jed crawled over and put his arms around her, holding her while she howled and rocked and cried.
Jed laid Dominic’s body down next to Sergeant G, then took a knee and rested his weapon on his raised leg. Jo sat on her hip, next to him, with her rifle slung. She was monitoring Sergeant G’s breathing.
“She seems okay for now. But I’m worried about blood loss. The wound may reopen when we move her, and we don’t know how bad it is. She could be bleeding internally.”
Jed couldn’t get any words out in reply. He maintained his post, guarding his injured squad leader and praying she would be okay.
Matty had dug some keys out of Tucker’s pocket, then offered to go back to the ambulance for a litter. He’d taken an M4 with him, just in case. Jed wasn’t dumb enough to think everything was going to work out, but the suckers hadn’t come after them yet. With all the shooting and shouting they’d been doing, that could only mean the monsters were somewhere else.
Still, he roved the night with the 240, looking into the growing shadows for signs of movement. Empty, dead buildings, and piles of rubble and ruin stared back at him.
You used to be such a great city. I’m sorry we did this to you.
Jed knew he meant the apology for the city itself, but in that moment he remembered Meg Pratt. The firefighter who’d saved his life and whose life he’d failed to save.
I’m sorry, Meg. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more right then. If you’re still alive . . .
He couldn’t let himself hope like that. Whatever chance he had of saving Meg’s life, he knew it was crazy to think he’d ever see her alive again.
Matty appeared at the corner, wheeling a stretcher down the road. Jo stood, holding her injured arm close against her chest. She steadied herself on her feet and walked to meet Matty halfway. Jed kept an eye out, still dreading the hit he wouldn’t hear coming. He watched them come back up the street together, jogging beside the stretcher like they were characters in one of those hospital shows.
Except this is real, and they’re not actors.
Jo and Matty stopped beside Jed. He stood aside as they lowered the stretcher and lifted Sergeant G, with Matty doing most of the work. They slid her on and Matty tightened two straps to hold her legs and chest still. The other straps were too ripped up to be useful, but Matty tied them in a knot over Sergeant G’s chest. He and Jo raised the stretcher together, making sure it stayed steady on the uneven ground.
“Got Reeve’s tags,” Matty said to Jed. He pulled two sets of the slender chains out of his pocket. “Mahton’s, too.”
Jed accepted them, put them in his pocket, and turned around to look at their path ahead. The riverside drive stretched into darkness, winding along the edge of the dead city like a failed suture. Here and there, Jed could make out debris, vehicles, and bodies that spilled off the roadway and into the water.
“The boat’s supposed to be up this way. Let’s move out.”
Jo gave him an Errr and they all set off at a trot, with Jed quietly damning Tucker’s memory as they left the dead col-lab behind them.
☣
The boat was at a covered pier half a mile up the road. They wheeled Sergeant G the whole way on a footpath that ran along the riverside, dodging carefully around rubble and corpses that littered the area. At the pier they had to navigate around bodies of dead sucker faces and the people they’d killed before the chemical bombs came down.
Graying vines crawled over the pier roof, making Jed think of the sucker faces and the way they would scramble and slink along every surface like a swarm of ants that would kill you as soon as look at you.
And so many had died to get him to this point.
Every step made Jed wish he’d done better by the people around him. He couldn’t stop thinking about times when he hadn’t aimed well enough or been fast enough or alert enough to stop someone getting hurt or killed.
But you got there for Sergeant G. We found the boat and now we can get the hell out of this city. I don’t know where we’ll go, but anywhere has to be better.
The boat was a long sport fisher type with an open cabin. Stacks of boxes and cases of water lined the walls. Jed let Jo and Matty get Sergeant G into the vessel. They had to move slow because of Jo’s arm, but they managed by dropping one end of the stretcher and sliding her down head first. Jo controlled her movement from above while Matty caught her shoulders and brought her
onto the boat.
Jed snapped his attention back to his surroundings and scanned the pier for signs of the monsters. The vines hung on the pier cover, winding tight around the poles supporting the roof and drooping from above. Nothing moved in the still early night air. For a moment, only the steady beat of the water against the boat’s hull told Jed he was still alive.
Sergeant G was safely on board, and Jo was with her. Matty came back to offer Jed a hand onto the craft. He turned away from the pier, climbed aboard, and took a seat next to Sergeant G. She was breathing steady. Her eyes were closed, but she was conscious. She muttered a weak Thanks as he settled himself near her.
“I’ll get us into the water,” Matty said, moving to the console.
The motor coughed at first, then grumbled into life. Jed cast them off and then they were on the water, leaving New York behind them and heading toward the East River.
Jed sat on his ass, with his back against a stack of boxes on the port side. He stared at the deepening night, watching it for any sign of threat. But he knew he was too numb and exhausted to stand much less fight back against anything that came their way.
Matty pushed the boat at a good pace. New York vanished into the darkness behind them as they came around Randall’s Island. Jo had laid down beside a stack of boxes and was snoring lightly. Jed let the night take care of itself and kept vigil over Sergeant G while Matty steered them through the dark water. The bulk of Rikers Island appeared off the starboard side, above Jo’s sleeping form. Jed looked behind them at their wake and watched the water cascade as nightfall finally came like a final note of loss.
Took our people, took our city. You took everything, even the light. But you didn’t take us.
Sergeant G’s eyes fluttered open and she instantly cried out, clutching at her side.
“Sergeant!”
Jed was next to her in a flash, looking into her eyes for some sign that she was okay. She flicked her gaze side to side and didn’t focus on him when he stared right into her eyes.