LZR-1143: Infection

by Bryan James

The man backed off, shaking his head at me as he did so.

  “You are crazy, you murdering SOB! Good riddance!”

  Ignoring him and the looks his comments brought, I followed the others out the hatch and quickly down the hall. Crewmen rushed past, but our presence went largely unheralded in the commotion. Everyone had a place during the drill, and nobody’s place was checking on us.

  The chopper had been pushed onto the flight deck and the rotors were already spinning slowly, getting ready to start in earnest. Hartliss was in the cockpit, speaking heatedly with a crewman through the open front door. He slammed it shut, still yelling into his microphone. The crewman turned quickly, sprinting past us into the ship. Kate’s head appeared from inside, hand motioning insistently toward us.

  “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time!” The crewman must be alerting the Captain.

  I jumped on board behind Anaru as the rotors spun faster and faster, kicking up wind and sound. I pulled the headphones over my ears as activity from the hangar deck caught my attention. The hatch had opened and Fred came lurching out, having tripped over the edge. Seeing my face from the open door of the helicopter, he sprinted toward me as five marines emerged behind him.

  “Pancake!” he screamed as I felt the chopper lift off. He reached the open door as we hovered inches from the ground. He jumped into the cabin as Hartliss pulled up and back quickly. Fred’s feet still hung precariously out over the side as we moved over the water behind the ship. Marines gesticulated wildly as our headphones came to life and Fred threw his leg over the edge of the floor, pulling himself on board with Anaru’s help.

  “Helo 1, this is Liverpool Actual, respond.” It was the Captain.

  “Cheers, Cap’n,” responded Hartliss over the radio as he rose and banked to the North. “Just taking care of your overcrowding situation, sir. Be back soon.”

  “You will return now, goddamn it. We have- ” It was cut off as Hartliss terminated the connection, leaving the intercom open.

  “I think I bloody well know he’s not a fan of this idea,” he said calmly, pulling us to a level thousand feet.

  Suddenly from the starboard side of the ship, six bright trails of light followed by massive columns of smoke filtering into the night sky.

  “They’re shooting at us!” I screamed into the microphone, having been in enough military movies to recognize the look of missiles being fired.

  “Those are cruise missiles, mate. Ground to ground; not ground to air. They’re firing on a ground target.” Hartliss spoke resignedly. His tone indicated agreement with the course of action but disapproval of the cause.

  “You knew about this?” I asked, incredulous.

  “What better way to get you chaps off the boat than during a live fire?” he said, banking to the left.

  Made sense, I suppose.

  “Orders from the fleet,” he explained, “Take out the heavily infested areas before it spreads. Other countries don’t want your disease, and nobody’s itching to help you folk right about now. Not a lot of friends in the world right now, apparently. ‘Cept me of course,” he finished. His jaunty tone was heartily out of place at a time like this.

  “There were almost a million and a half people in Manhattan before this thing hit,” he explained as we banked slowly away from the ship. “Fleet figured this is a bloody good way to destroy a bunch of those wankers in one shot. Million and a half fewer carriers to worry about.”

  I glued my face to the window, watching the six streaming trails of fire lift awkwardly into the air and arc toward the city, each of the six breaking off slightly in various directions, all staying on target directly into the heart of a city that had already witnessed so much pain and devastation.

  Despite the nagging feeling that this was the right course of action to be taken, I was unable to believe the signals my eyes were sending to my brain.

  “Holy shit,” this from Sam who, ignoring her dislike for me personally, had pressed her face next to mine against the window in a farcical semblance of intimacy.

  It was as if we were moving in slow motion, the glare of the rockets bright in my eyes as they ascended, reached their zenith and turned to plunge quickly and purposefully to their nadir, six streaks of bright light heading for six minutely different targets within New York City.

  Suddenly, six more bursts from the Liverpool in sharp succession. They were firing again. This time, however, the rockets reached about three thousand feet and veered sharply to the South, leaving a trail of fire and smoke in their wake.

  Flowers of fire blossomed between buildings, illuminating the early morning skyline. Between one second and the next, vast swathes of the city were transformed into raging infernos of roiling heat and destruction. We could make out very little detail from our vantage point, but as we turned upriver, we were afforded a front row seat to the final destruction of the center of the world.

  Buildings bearing the initial brunt of the explosions toppled against one another, causing a series of collapsing structures. Dust, debris and fire fell from above, blanketing the ground and infusing the air. In the streets below, creatures boiled out from the shadows of the demolition, ignorant of the fires burning around them, but pushed out by the sheer force of the blasts and the pressure of other zombies.

  Avenues full of cars, trucks, buses and bodies became moats of flaming death as the city now destroyed itself from inside, the proximity of its structures now condemning itself to incineration. Flaming bodies could be seen running, shambling or collapsing in mute supplication, marked as undead by the speed with which they fled from the flames and debris.

  The reasoning behind the strike was clear as we moved along the shoreline, crossed over where I knew the Holland Tunnel to be, and moved West, away from the inferno. There was no sign of life in the pre-dawn hours-no humans running for cover or crying out in agony. It was a city of the undead, and it was now burning in a hell befitting its occupants.

  Over the intercom, no one spoke. There was nothing to say. We knew that this was only the harbinger of more to come.

  From my side, a hand sought my own and I squeezed tight, knowing it to be Kate. We flew away from the light of the rising sun in silence.

  Chapter 19

  We flew over city and then suburbs, all touched and infected by the same plague that had decimated Long Island. Buildings burned as testament to human fear and folly.

  Kate was the first to speak, more to me than anyone else, although there were no secrets over the intercom. Her voice crackled over the headphones. “He was able to get us some weapons from the Royal Marine stash on the ship. Only side arms and a rifle each with some ammunition, but you know…beggars and choosers and all that.”

  From across the cabin Anaru handed me a pistol in a holster attached to a thick, military belt, followed by a short, stocky semi-automatic rifle and several additional clips for it, which fit handily into pouches attached to the belt.

  “SA-80,” he said briefly, referring to the make of the rifle.

  “Better than an ax from the sporting goods section, huh?” I said to Kate, holding the rifle up and examining the stock and barrel. She nodded in agreement, concentrating on and handling her pistol with more than a modicum of familiarity.

  “You know how to use those?” Sam asked me from across the cabin, the sneer as evident in her voice as it was on her face, “Or are you going to shoot yourself in the ass before you can cap one of these zombie fucks?”

  Although the make was unfamiliar, the rifle was similar to ones I had handled in previous films and I knew the basic handling procedures. Enough, at least, to prevent myself from serious harm. Voiding the chamber and sighting the piece in demonstrative fashion, I looked up at her, sounding more confident that I felt.

  I had been trained in several different types of weapons, although rarely using live ammunition. As an action movie star, one was rather compelled to know the workings of the tools of the trade. A friend of mine from college lived in Montana, and althou
gh I rarely ever saw him anymore, when we were just out of college, he forced me to go hunting with him in Canada.

  I had never been so cold and miserable in my life, but I learned how to fire a gun with real ammunition. Come to think of it, that was one of the reasons I jumped on my first action movie part. It was kind of exhilarating. I know that as good Hollywood liberal type I wasn’t supposed to enjoy the phallic American obsession with guns, but God help me, I liked shooting. Although, truth be told, when I saw a moose, I aimed high. Couldn’t bear the thought of shooting something so fuzzy.

  Didn’t think I’d have much of a hang up about wasting any of these flesh-eating ghouls, though.

  “I’ll be fine. If I shoot myself in the foot, you have permission to finish the job. But until then, try to play nice.” She smiled a fake smile, venom dripping from her gaze. Jesus. I wondered if she’d ever be laid. I wondered if she liked guys.

  Better warn Kate, just in case.

  From beside Kate, a meek, quiet voice. “Pancake?”

  Fuck! Fred! I had almost forgotten him!

  What the hell did he think he was doing, following us out like that?

  Ah, yes. He wasn’t thinking. Mind of a child. Right. I looked at him and smiled, trying to reassure him. As I smiled, I spoke into the headset, “Hartliss, can you give Fred here a ride back to the ship after our drop?”

  “Can do, but you have to make sure he stays put. Can’t babysit and fly at the same time.”

  I wound the belt around my waste and made sure my weapons were loaded. I examined the rifle, finding the switch and selecting semi rather than full automatic. From what we had seen, we needed to take them in the head or not at all. Spraying twenty rounds into the torso wasn’t as effective against the undead as it was against their human counterparts.

  I looked out the window, watching interstate and suburbs turn slowly into forest and towns. We rarely saw signs of human activity. What little we witnessed appeared frantic and panicked. No organized fighting, no fortresses of holdouts. Merely a week after the outbreak, the land appeared calmly destitute and abandoned to the undead. I sighed heavily. It may already be too late.

  I heard Kate shift behind me.

  “I was 19.” Kate said suddenly, peeling my headset from my left ear and speaking to me directly.

  I chuckled, not understanding at first. “So was I. It was a good year.”

  She made a face. “That first night on the ship, what I told you. You had a look on your face like you were confused. I had her when I was 19. Her father and I met when I was in college. A one night thing, but then nine months later… We share custody, every six months.”

  “Good thing it was his turn,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Yeah, good thing.” She turned away, looking out the window.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, realizing only after I had said it that I hated that question.

  “You just did,” she said, smiling crookedly without turning around.

  Yep, that was why. I smiled anyway.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why what?”

  “You have a daughter who I know you care for. Why go with us on this crazy jaunt? You must realize as clearly as I do that the cards are kinda stacked against us. Even if I weren’t crazy, this plan definitely is. Hike off into the mountains through zombie hordes to find and break into a secret government lab where there might be a cure to a disease that appears to have won already? Definition of bat-shit crazy if you ask me.”

  She looked into my eyes, face serious. “There are a lot of people out there that don’t have a chance to do anything to save their loved ones from this-not to mention from four thousand miles away. They may lock their doors, stockpile food and load their guns, but you and I both know that this kind of sickness gets exponentially worse. In two more weeks, the planet could be irretrievably overrun, and humankind-at least the humankind we know-could be very close to extinct. No one can hold out against that forever.”

  She turned away, looking out the window. “The only hope for anyone, my daughter included, is finding a cure.”

  Suddenly, the radio came to life, a frightened voice coming through clearly, the sounds of commotion and shouting loud in the background.

  “Mayday, mayday. This is the HMS Liverpool. We are anchored in New York Bay and have been hit by an inbound freighter. We are taking on water, and abandoning ship. I repeat, we are taking on water and abandoning ship.”

  This was incomprehensible. We all looked at each other in shock as Hartliss spoke rapidly in response.

  “Liverpool, this is Lieutenant Hartliss, what the hell happened?”

  “Inbound freighter, loaded with zeds. Must’ve killed the crew or something. They’re all… what the bloody… Jesus!” his voice escalated to a frightened tenor, ending in a shrill scream, as the radio squealed, transmission cut off suddenly from the ship.

  They drive boats now? What next?

  “Liverpool? Liverpool, come in!”

  He tried several times, urgently trying to evoke a response. His pleas were met with the empty retort of static and dead air.

  Hartliss cursed and checked his GPS read out, punching buttons and turning two dials quickly.

  “I have to get back. There may be something I can do. Sorry, but I’ve got to let you down.

  Before we could reply, the chopper jerked as it was buffeted by a gust of wind. “I’m going to drop you in a town about thirty miles South of the facility. According to the GPS, it’s called Kearney. I can’t take you the rest of the way. It’s a medium sized town, but if you clear the inhabited area quickly, you might have a chance.”

  We started toward the grown, and I caught myself wanting to vomit as we dropped hundreds of feet within seconds. Small buildings flashed by below, and we crossed small town streets packed haphazardly with cars. Creatures meandered aimlessly below; some looked up as we passed. Not a good sign.

  “I’m going to drop you in a football field. From there, you’re on your own, but it looks like there’s a car dealership across the street. Should be able to find transport there.” Hartliss’s normally calm voice was bordering on the frantic.

  Mentally grappling with the potential loss of the Liverpool, I made sure my gear was in place. Across from me, Anaru read my mind, “Any idea how many of those things might be down there?”

  “Negative. It’s a medium sized town, but no way to know. Not as many as the city, but you should anticipate that they’ll be drawn by the noise from the chopper, so be alert.”

  “What about Fred,” Kate asked, grabbing my arm urgently. “We can’t send him back to the ship if it’s infested and sinking.”

  “We don’t know that it’s overrun or that it went down. They could have stopped the leak and could be mopping up the zombies as we speak. Either way, Hartliss has enough fuel to find somewhere safer than where we’re going.” It wasn’t the best plan, but I believed it was true. There was no promise of safety in either direction, but at least by air, he had more options. “There’s no way for us to keep him safe in this, you know that.”

  She looked into my eyes, doubt and uncertainty warring with her concern for Fred’s safety. She finally nodded and turned away, grabbing Fred’s hand and holding it tightly.

  From the cockpit, Hartliss’s tense voice. “Here’s the drop. Get ready.”

  Out the window to my right, I could see an empty football field, surrounded by bleachers. On one side of the field, a banner hung limply from the stands, espousing support for the high school team. Behind the field, the school itself sat in dark, stolid silence. A Toyota dealership, bright sign illuminated brightly across the street from the field, corroborated Hartliss’ satellite imagery.

  As we banked and descended, I caught movement in the parking lot beside the field, and from behind the school. We definitely weren’t alone here.

  In a gut-wrenching change of altitude and pace, the chopper dropped suddenly to within twenty feet of the ground, blea
chers disappearing behind us as we lowered the last fifteen feet. Then the last five, as the wheels touched the soft grass and the wind from the spinning rotors blasted off the ground and into the cabin.

  “That’s it. Everyone out. Good hunting and Godspeed!”

  Sam jumped out, rifle up, head down but alert. Anaru followed, weapon similarly raised, then Kate. I was the last, and as I exited I turned quickly to Fred, who had been poised to follow. From behind me, I heard Sam’s voice rising, Anaru yelling in response, and the sharp report of a single shot. I held my hand up and spoke quickly and loudly.

  “You’re staying, Fred. We’ll be back, I promise!” Disliking the lie I heard in my voice, I kept my hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture, and brought the door shut in front of him. His face stared out the window, his hand pressed against it softly, as I slammed my hand against the metal wall three times in sharp succession and sprinted under the blades to where the others stood, backs to me and the helicopter. Another single shot rang out, as Hartliss made a thumbs up gesture and lifted off the ground immediately, obviously concerned about the ship.

  I turned to see Sam crouched on the ground, sighting carefully over the barrel of her rifle toward a group of six zeds making their way across the field toward us from the open gate behind the far goalpost. Two bodies already lay sprawled awkwardly on the grass, limbs askew, proof of Sam’s marksmanship.

  From above and behind us, there was a sudden sound of metallic snapping and the arcing of electricity. We all looked back in time to witness Hartliss pull the helicopter back from an almost invisible line of electric wires that stretched between the announcer’s booth and the main grid on the far side of the field. He had clipped one of the wires, which had struck the side of the chopper after briefly tangling with a rotor blade. He was perhaps thirty feet from the ground, and the chopper yawed wildly before coming to an even keel. Sam turned back to sight the incoming creatures, as the rest of us helplessly watched the progress of the ship.

  He achieved a couple hundred feet in altitude before smoke started to pour out of the engine compartment directly below the spinning rotors. The engine whined loudly as the smoke got thicker and came faster. He kept the chopper moving forward, out of the field, past the outskirts of where I knew town ended and forest began. The tail suddenly skewed sharply to the side, and the chopper lost twenty feet in altitude. It disappeared from sight over the closest hill, smoke still streaming from the tail and descending fast.