Jaden and Roger slammed the doors of their trucks and the drivers threw them into gear, tossing dirt everywhere as the old clutches engaged. The two pickups roared off, undead scratching the paint as they reached out with hungry, skeletal fingers. The trucks picked up speed rapidly, cresting the leading edge once more of the enormous pack of undead. The lead truck, Jaden’s truck, took the corner fast and wide, and something went terribly wrong.
Kevin didn’t see what precisely triggered it, but when the truck took the turn it must’ve hit something buried just under the surface. The back tires of the pickup were swinging wide, and judging by how the truck rolled, they might’ve caught a rock. The tough as nails old Toyota began tumbling in a barrel roll, counterclockwise. In abject horror Kevin watched as his friend Jaden was ejected forcefully out the window and up in the air, high enough to twist end over end before coming down directly in the path of the violently tumbling vehicle.
“NOOOoooOO!!!” Kevin screamed from the depth of his soul as the truck rolled directly over the prone form of the team leader. Ethan immediately stopped turning their truck, and blasted straight forward the seventy feet to the now upside down truck. Directly in front of the wreckage lay Jaden, hyperventilating, staring into the sky and clutching at the ruined mess of his left leg. Mercifully the truck had only smashed the limb and not his entire body. Kevin saw shards of bone protruding in several places through bright red blood, fat and muscle.
Kevin launched out of the truck as the two men in the front emptied out. Ethan took over immediately, and began to give instructions, “Kevin suppress. Roger assist me.”
Without thinking Kevin obeyed the medic's command and dropped to a knee. He started to light up the oncoming zombies before he realized what he was doing. He squeezed the trigger until he felt the bolt lock back, then changed his magazine in the blink of an eye and did it again. He did this for what felt like forever, but it might've only been thirty seconds. At some point in the fight he realized the woman in the truck was screaming. He stopped and looked at her for a moment, and realized she was absorbing the horror of combat for the first time. Kevin wondered how badly it would scar her. He’d have to figure it out later. He turned back to his biggest problem, and continued to fire.
Less than a minute later he heard Jaden scream lowly, in a brutal and guttural tone that made Kevin’s stomach wobble. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw the two PJs had managed to immobilize the mangled mess of his leg, and had got an IV into him. The two airmen had gotten him up onto his one good foot and were dragging him to the back of the truck as Jaden fired over Ethan’s shoulder. Kevin noticed in the back of his mind that the shots Jaden were letting fly were still accurate despite his ruined leg and the pain he must've been in. He couldn’t believe how superhuman these men were.
The two operators got their hurt leader into the back of the truck as the fourth man in their team fired over the hood of the Toyota, assisting Kevin in keeping the mass of rotting, marching flesh at bay. His name was Joel, and Kevin saw he had a gash across his face that exposed his cheekbone and teeth. The man paid no attention to his own wounds, and was fixated on laying down fire for his brothers. In the flashes of gunfire Kevin could see Joel’s weapon was covered in his own blood. Kevin felt his eyes water as his emotions ran raw.
Ethan barked as he got back into the driver’s seat of the one remaining upright Toyota, “We are mobile!” Joel got into the front of the truck with his ruined face and bloody rifle as Roger leapt into the back to continue rendering aid to the fallen warrior. Kevin scrambled back into the truck next to the woman and two airmen. As soon as they were half secure, Ethan threw the truck in gear and they were gone. The blonde watched the whole of it, screaming through the hand she held over her mouth.
As they sped back towards the safety of the huge bird that brought them there, all Kevin could hear was Roger repeating the same words over and over to his grievously injured boss, “I can fix this. I can fix this. I can fix this.”
“I can fix this.”
But Kevin knew he couldn’t.
The heat of the Moroccan sun was growing in intensity.
*****
Logan swapped the magazine on his rifle and continued to fire into the office doorway as the undead poured out. It was like the little Dutch boy had yanked his thumb back and the dam was leaking out undead. He took a moment and spoke into the microphone on his headset, “Hey out there, we need a hand in the hangar, there’s a shitload of the bastards coming out of the woodwork in here and Dale can’t get the fucking fuel truck started.”
“FUCK YOU LOGAN!” Dale yelled from the truck’s interior.
Kyle came back over the radio immediately, “Enroute. Eta thirty seconds.”
Logan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to firing. He looked over at Dale, still under the dash of the old truck, still trying to cross wires in a vain attempt to get it started. He could hear Dale cursing at full volume, even over his deafening gunfire in the huge airplane bay. Just as he smiled at the ridiculousness of their plight, he heard a second gun come into play from behind him. Over his shoulder Kyle was firing now, and with the increased rate of fire for even just a few seconds, the river of dead bodies came to a screeching halt.
“What the fuck is going on in here? Why isn’t this pig started?” Kyle asked as he dipped the barrel of his rifle, taking a moment to ask the question.
“Don’t ask me, ask the asshole ripping the wiring in the truck apart.” Logan leaned his head towards Dale and went back to firing. More undead were appearing. Kyle snapped off another shot in the growing light coming through the massive tiled windows of the structure, and slid the rifle to his hip. He walked over to the diminutive Dale and grabbed him by the belt, yanking him out of the truck.
“Help your friend, buy me a fucking minute,” Kyle said to him. Dale looked pissed, but Kyle caught a flash of relief to be done with the piece of shit African truck. Dale drew his sidearm, and walked to the front of the truck, assisting Logan by popping off a few rounds.
Within seconds Kyle discovered that Dale had hotwired the radio to the blinkers. He laughed quickly, and freed his Leatherman from its pouch, and snipped the few wires that actually would start the vehicle. Thirty seconds later the diesel truck angrily belched a cloud of black exhaust, and started. The two airmen cheered Kyle, and Kyle grinned, pulling the truck out of the hangar, and towards the hungry plane that desperately needed a meal.
*****
Kate left the cockpit to assist her crew in getting the bird fueled. She was distracted by the constant snapping of gunfire nearby. Harold had grabbed one of the PJ’s sniper rifles and was picking off the leading undead that had turned around and were coming back at them. She was thankful for the fire support, but goddamn that rifle was loud. Each booming shot made her permanently deafer. She did her best to ignore it and hoped the eardrums were tougher than she thought.
As she and the crew got the fuel moving from the truck into her baby, she saw a single truck pull up, filled to the brim with her people. One had failed to return. Kate noticed the leggy golden haired blonde immediately, and her heart skipped a beat. A pretty girl here in Morocco? This might turn out to be a good day after all.
Her heart sank when she saw poor Jaden carried from the back of the Hilux, fighting a scream the whole way. His left leg was a ruined mess of twisted bone and bloody raw flesh. It looked as if it had been pinned against a wall and one of the trucks had smeared it doing sixty miles an hour. The leg was history. Jaden’s face was a wrinkled mess of agony as his two men carried him into the back of her plane to a cot where they could give him some serious medical care. One of the men helping him, Joel, had his own face slashed open, and was acting as if nothing was wrong. She was thankful for the excessive amount of medical training the PJs got. Each of them was practically a doctor.
Kevin assisted the blonde lady out of the back of the truck, and the two of them strode wordlessly towards the back of the plane, stopping when t
hey reached Kate. Kate looked Kevin in the eye, and she saw the pain and guilt of Jaden’s injury on his face.
“Shit happens," she said.
Kevin nodded somberly. “Yeah. How long until we’re out of here?”
Kate did the math in her head and hoped it was right. “Two minutes maybe. Who’s your friend?” She looked at the blonde.
The woman came to out of a daze and looked at Kate. Kate was stunned how pretty she was, even covered in filth and blood. “I’m sorry. I’m Michelle," she said. "I can’t believe you all made it. I’m shocked that this is really happening.” She smiled, and Kate felt a rush of warmth. She had known this girl thirty seconds and was already falling in love. Fairly typical for her.
Kevin looked at her, vaguely surprised. “Were you expecting us?”
She smiled again and nodded. “Definitely. You’re The Warden. You were sent here to save my life.” Her voice was full of conviction. Not the false hope and certainty of someone who has lost touch with reality, but the genuine knowledge of someone who knows they are right.
“Warden? Odd choice of words.” Kevin looked at her. He was skeptical, but inside he felt her words ring true.
“You are the protector. My protector. You were sent here by a greater power to save me, and help us unite The Trinity. You, I, and one more are part of the solution to ending this,” Michelle said.
“Are you saying Warden because of my hat? It says Warden Protective Group on it.” Kevin pointed at the front of the white cap he perpetually wore. His company’s logo was centered on the cap.
Michelle looked up at the white cap suddenly, as if she hadn’t seen it yet. She smiled again, pleased. “Wow. You will know The Warden by his garments of white. That’s so funny.”
Kate looked at Kevin, and when she saw the seriousness on his face, she suddenly became frightened. Her fear and uncertainty grew when Kevin spoke again.
“Have you dreamt of a white room? Have you spoken with the dead?” Kevin asked her, interrogated her. He seemed desperate to hear her answer.
Michelle nodded slowly once more, and both Kate and Kevin felt like they were in the presence of very wise person. “I have spoken with the dead in The White Room. I know what’s happening. I was there when it started. The first undead. Once we’re away from here, I’ll explain everything, but I have the feeling if we stay here much longer, we won’t see noon.”
Kate and Kevin gave the blonde woman hard looks. Kevin nodded in agreement, conceding, and he led her into the wide bellied aircraft where it was safer.
Kate had no idea what was happening but was very afraid.
*****
The plane was in the air minutes later, and once they leveled out at their cruising altitude, heading towards the Azores, Kate put the autopilot on and made her way back to the bay to listen to the story Michelle promised she’d share. It was still loud in the plane when she got to the back. Everyone not caring for Jaden or operating necessary equipment to keep the bird in the air was gathered around the radiant blonde. She had a following already.
Michelle was seated on a small crate of ammunition in the center of the gathered men. She looked very small, and very much out of place surrounded by the rough and ready warriors. Despite their softened visages, blood soaked and tired bodies, they were still quite frightening people loaded down with their guns, blades, and bullets. Even at rest they exuded potential violence.
Michelle took a deep breath, and in a voice loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of the prop engines, she began her tale, starting with the village in the Congo, just before that fateful meeting the glade.
All told, her story took an hour, and not a single word was uttered by anyone else as she told it. They were transfixed by every moment of her tale. They listened as she told of the cold voice in the glade, the sick taste of blood on her tongue, and of little Oudry leading her. They listened to her tell the story of her father in The White Room, and of the smell of lilies and the sweet flavor of honey. The gathered warriors listened to her talk of The Trinity, and her role in it, as well as the role of Kevin as The Warden.
In the end, most of them believed her immediately. They’d seen enough in the past 24 hours to find very little in the realm of the impossible. Those who were skeptical were brought to bear by Harold.
Kyle was the person most against her tale. He believed she was a fool, a lost religious nut wandering in the African sun for far too long and he had no qualms about sharing his disbelief. “I don’t buy it. It’s bullshit. Crazy dreams, sun stroke, peyote, whatever. Sounds like Latter Day Saints rapture bullshit.”
Hal looked up at Kyle and shook his head. “Mate, remember the priest in Mildenhall? Bloody bastard KNIGHTED Kevin. Then he sank that sword six inches into the concrete like it was sand. Why the bloody hell were all those dead fuckers carrying bladed weapons too? They never done that before so why start now? I'll tell you why; they were sending a goddamn message. Kevin is the protector, he’s the warrior. He’s the Knight in shining armor. He’s the one sent by God to ensure we have a chance to redeem ourselves.”
“So why weren’t the dead people in Morocco carrying anything? What message were they trying to send?” Kyle asked in a sharp retort.
“There was no message to send today,” Michelle said quietly, interrupting their argument. The men turned to her, listening. “That’s not true actually. The dead in England you were speaking of I believe were sent by good—not evil—to tell Kevin he was special, and a member of The Trinity. They only reverted back to the control of evil when they were attacked. Good can only borrow the dead from evil for so long. These undead here just now were always under the control of evil. This was evil’s moment to break The Trinity and condemn humanity in one fell swoop. The message today was simple: Die.”
Save for the rumble of the props, the plane went silent.
“She’s telling the truth,” Kevin said, his face lowered to the floor, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I’ve dreamt of the same white room. Corey and Nate visited me there and told me about stuff. They told me about the rule of three. The zombies in Mildenhall, they all arrived at 0333 remember? And when we came here, I saw the three flames from the air. Now she’s talking about a Trinity. We need to look for things in threes. Anything conspicuous. I don’t know where we all fit in, but she’s telling the truth about it.” Kevin looked to Michelle, lifting his head for the first time since she started speaking. “Where do we go from here?”
Michelle thought long and hard. Everyone knew she had no idea. “I don’t know. We are meant to find the third. The Soul. He’s the key to this all. If he fails, I think we all fail. We need to find him before evil gets to him, and either kills him or corrupts him. Where were you heading anyway?”
Kate answered her, “We’re now heading to the Azores for a final refuel. From there we’re headed to the eastern seaboard. We’re aiming to land somewhere in New Hampshire, or Maine, or maybe Massachusetts. It really depends on the headwinds. We might wind up ditching in the fucking ocean a hundred miles offshore. In which case, we’re headed for a long nap with some lobsters.”
Michelle smiled at Kate’s pessimistic outlook. “To the Azores then. Whatever happens will happen. We all need to understand that there are grand powers at play right now, and we are a part of the story. If we are meant the find the Soul, then we’ll find that person. One way or the other our paths will cross, unless evil gets to him or her before we do. Until then, we push on.”
Kevin asked a question that popped into his mind, “How will we know they are the third? You said you’d know me by my what? Garments of white? Any idea on how we figure out who the third is?”
Michelle shook her head, unsure. “I don’t know yet. But I suspect that when we meet them, we’ll know who they are soon enough.”
Kate swallowed. “Let’s hope we catch a tailwind then. I’d hate to have the world end with us on our way to rescue our unknown hero. I really don’t want to be late to that prom.”
; “Amen to that,” Kevin said.
July 5th
Busy beavers once again Mr. Journal. But, we are productive and lucky beavers. Lots going on here on and off campus, and once again, it seems to be largely all positive. The Jinx Fairy appears to be on vacation right now. I’m sincerely hoping I can shove that bitch down the drain with my big toe when she comes back, but she’s an elusive cunt.
That sounded really bitter. I’m not even bitter today. I’m very positive. One might even describe me as being… happy.
I typed that and ducked. Usually when I say shit like that I get hit in the fucking face with a brick, or a dog bites my crotch. That's just how I roll.
Yesterday we broke off into two groups again so some of us could hit some houses near that welding shop again. The street it’s on had maybe ten houses on it, and we all felt like it was unfinished business just leaving them be. Plus I wanted to try and find more food and God forbid another generator so we could get the hydro set up operational. Once that was done, we can worry about staffing MGR as the observation post we were talking about. Of course, who is gonna staff it?
Cross that bridge when we get there I suppose.
Abby, Angela and I did the trip downtown yesterday while everyone else stayed behind. We wound up doing four houses, which was a neat coincidence, seeing as how it was July 4th. (No fireworks either which sort of blew.) Most of the houses had little to nothing of use inside them, but we did manage to find a small gas generator. It was a tiny one though, and I’m really hoping in conjunction with the other generators we’ve gotten it’ll be enough to keep our hydro operation working.
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family Page 5