by Vic Sandel
Robyn and her staff spent the night formulating and actually making doses of their promising but untried vaccine. Tomorrow, they would start mouse trials. She had plans to meet Jessie up above at 07:00. Her people were well capable of dosing a few mice.
Dr. Baldwin and Dr. Marco had kept people up all night, getting their vehicles ready to handle the freezing cocktail they would be dispensing.
Bob Eller had also kept a mechanic up a while making some modifications to his “news & traffic” chopper.
Even Jessie had gotten into the idea of seeking out the enemy, and preparing their defense.
At 07:00 people began to arrive on the field where a huge surprise awaited anyone who had not been part of the evening's activities.
Most noticeable was a giant CH 47D/F Chinook. Early Chinooks had seen action in Vietnam, but this was a more modern version built in 1982. Its most notable features were the two giant rotors, with one to the front and another to the rear of the craft. It kind of looked as if someone had glued two copters together, back-to-back. This configuration may have looked odd, but it allowed the Chinook to carry a giant payload. It could easily carry the 4400 pound air separator/liquid nitrogen machine, as well as the giant generator needed to power it. They had pulled that unit from a nearby hospital that had been closed for some time already.
Amy Banks heard about the search and with no other assignment yet, got up early to volunteer. As She observed Bob Eller performing a check over of his craft, she noticed someone waving at her from the doorway of the Chinook. She had to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing correctly. It was her father, and he was waving happily. She returned his wave as Bob approached her.
“Yes, it is your father, and I have to say he's been a huge help. He's been up all night welding all that heavy machinery into the Chinook, and he even had time to help me with some new additions to mine.”
He walked her over to his craft where he proudly showed her the two new weapons systems that had just been mounted on the struts. “Pretty Cool huh? I found these in an area of copters cannibalized for parts. This one here is a Gatling pod. It is like a really fast machine gun. On the other side, we have the standard rocket launcher. Now, if we don't care for the traffic, we can do something about it.”
“That's really nice. I wanted to ask though, if I could come with you this morning? I really want to help, and I have great eyesight.”
“Have you asked your parents?”
“No, but I'm old enough to make up my own mind. Besides, I haven't been assigned any other job yet. I'd really make a good spotter.”
“Tell you what, go ask your dad, and if he says it's okay, you can come. I suspect he might have had a change of heart. Plus, our back seat has been re-installed.”
Moments later, she came running back to the “traffic” chopper with her thumbs held high in the air!
Robyn had been standing on the tarmac with the others, becoming impatient. Where was Jessie? It wasn't like him to be late. Just as she was ready to give up, she heard a high pitched engine and saw a small plane coming her way from the direction of the aviation fuel depot. It slowly taxied almost up to her and stopped. The engine shut down and Jessie emerged.
“Hi hon, look what I found! It seems that this little, old Iroquois was owned by some Lieutenant Colonel. Evidently, he and his family were killed, although they could still be walking around, somewhere. I don't guess they will be flying anymore, and the bank that held the paper is long out of business. I asked the brass in charge if I could have and they said sure. So, I've been up all night, and with the help of a couple of mechanics and we made sure she's cherry. She may be an old timer, like from 1964, but she's better than new. It's former owner updated everything, including removing the old, fixed tripod and giving her retractable landing gear. Hell, she's even turbocharged. So, watcha say? You wanna come with me in my flying machine?”
Whether or not she wanted to go, she would never deny Jessie his moment. He was just so excited. This was the first time she had seen the little boy in him, and she loved it!
“You know how to fly that thing>”
“I learned on one just like it.”
“Now, for all of you fliers I have a surprise. No matter which craft you may be flying, you now have plane-to-plane communications and we have reinstated the old citizens' band so you can reach ground traffic and headquarters if you are not too far out.”
The announcement came over a newly installed PA system, running off a small generator.
“Coordinate your searches together. Go out at least 100 miles from here and in all directions, and then spiral back at different altitudes. In about thirty minutes you will be joined by two Hueys coming back from another mission. Mr. Eller, you are in charge. The Chinook is not yet ready for reconnaissance and we need her ready for combat. Mr. Porter thank you for offering us your services and your new plane.”
Bob watched as Bradley and Amy boarded the ship and spiraled up his engines. He would start on a course to the West.
Jessie helped Robyn step up on the wing and held the door open until she was inside and seated. He crossed over and entered from the other side, strapped himself in and started the motor. He had performed the preflight check-list before taxieing over, so he headed for the runway and his course to the east. At the end of the runway he throttled up his Turbo charged 150 HP Lycoming engine and off they went. They cleared the ground and Jessie retracted the landing gear.
As they took to the sky, she looked at his face, despite the horror they were seeking, it was an expression of pure joy!
They flew for about an hour, keeping fairly low, but certainly not hugging the treetops. Most of what they saw had been either abandoned, or left untended for other reasons. Their airspeed indicator showed they had been moving steadily at one-hundred-twenty-five miles per hour. That would put them over 100 miles from the start point. Jessie keyed the radio.
“Traffic man, this is Jessie's girls, do you copy?”
“Well hello there, Jess, what's your position and what are you seeing?”
“So far, not much. A lot of empty and unattended real estate, but no big horde of zombies.”
“Same here, I'm about one-hundred-fifty miles out. I think we should run to about two-hundred, and then turn north. I'll go northeast towards you. Do the same to the northwest and we'll meet somewhere in the middle. Just keep that middle point one-hundred-fifty miles, or so, out from our start point. I still haven't heard anything from the Huey drivers.”
“Roger that, traffic man. In about another half hour, I'll turn north towards the western side of Cleveland.”
They flew for another half hour, due east and then began the turn. Jessie adjusted a couple of controls and announced that they were on a course for Cleveland.
She put down the binoculars she had been staring through, and rubbed her eyes. “The flying is nice but all this staring is giving me a headache.”
“Just lean back, relax, and watch the scenery go by the window. Use the binoculars only when you need to see something up close.”
Thirty minutes passed before they began to see groups of zombies moving along in a fairly straight line. Jessie marked the coordinates on a pad he was carrying. As they moved closer to the abandoned city, the clusters became thicker and more congested. They were all moving in the same direction. Again, he recorded the coordinates.
“Traffic man, this is Jessie's girls, we've got movement, all moving southwest.”
“Roger that, we are beginning to see some, also. All moving toward Dayton.”
“Traffic man, we are going to swing a big circle to see how big this thing really is.”
“Roger Jessie, we're going to do the same.”
Jessie banked slightly right for a few miles, and than began a long slow turn to the right. Everywhere below were the zombies, crawling limping, and dragging whatever parts of themselves they could, all in one direction.
Mile-after-mile, whatever direction they flew in, they saw
the creatures below. Eventually, Jessie had marked out the entire cluster.
“There must be tens-of-thousands down there.” Robyn says.
“Maybe millions and this is just one sector.”
“Traffic man, this is Jessie's girls, we've marked out the infestation. It is huge. We're going back to the barn now. By the time we get back my little engine will need to be fed.”
“We're having similar results, just finishing our plots, and then we'll see you back at the ranch. Fly safe!”
Jessie marked the compass and GPS, and they turned back to Wright Patterson.
Robyn lightened the mood. “Jessie's Girls. Quite a handle. One's the plane, I get it, but who's the other?”
“I think you know by now.”
They flew the next ninety minutes back to Wright Patterson in silence, both thinking about what they had seen and what it meant for their future.
When the little plane touched down it was only a bit away from sucking fumes. A radio talk with the brass confirmed that there had been no contact with the Hueys. Much as he loved flying his little plane, Jessie was too tired and down to think of doing it again tomorrow. He sent Robyn to check on progress in her lab and went to headquarters with his plots and some photos he took with his useless cell phone.
A few minutes after Jessie sat down with Wright's commanders, Bob entered with a similar story. As they were going over the data, there came a wump, wump sound from outside. It was the Hueys. As it turned out, they were not around to be fitted with the new radios. The story they brought in from the North and South was very similar.
Millions of the undead were coming their way. Unless they could be slowed down, Wright Patterson had about 18 days!
Chapter 22
The Best Defense
“As you can see from the map of U.S. air installations, we're pretty much alone here.” Lieutenant Colonel Dickerson, who had joined the command staff at Wright Patterson a few weeks earlier, pointed to a large map on the wall.
Major McCaffrey, who had been at this post almost his entire career spoke up. “The grid you see always protected one another. We never foresaw a situation with almost a total lack of communications, few working aircraft, and zero manufacturing and refining.”
Aaron, who had been contacted by Bob, flew in from Langley to attend the meeting spoke up. “So, what have you got?”
“What we have is a load of underground hangars full of F-18s, with some 16s and even 14s, too. Just about all of them are operational, except for three things. We don't have the jet fuel to keep even a couple of them in the air. Second, we have only a couple of pilots who are able to fly them, and even if we had the pilots and fuel, they are the wrong craft for this fight. Rockets, machine guns, and even napalm are wrong for the task. We're not going to be dog fighting. These birds are just too fast to terminate a bunch of brainless, slow moving targets. Choppers, that can hover while they neutralize an area, and are, slower, gas-fueled, lower-octane users are perfect for this task.”
“So, the bottom line is simple. What have we got? What can we get? How soon can we have it?”
“That would certainly seem to sum it up beautifully, Mr. Eller.”
Bob continued, “ We know that they are moving at a speed that will put them here in about two-and-a-half weeks. What can we do to delay their arrival, and lessen the odds? It seems to me, we need to attack their most forward movers continually.”
“So, what usable resources do we have at our disposal?”
“Major McCaffrey opened a legal pad that had painfully little written upon it. “You've got to remember, we never expected to be directly under attack. It was always predicted that any attack on a U.S. Air Force Base would be by missile. That's why we have such a concentration of underground facilities.”
“Can you skip the canned speech and tell us what we've got!” Colonel Dickerson was getting impatient.
The Major looked down at his meager list, wishing somehow he could make it grow before he delivered his report. “Well first we have the two Hueys you see out there, as well as the Chinook, which is also obvious. The Chinook is currently being fitted out as a delivery system for Liquid Nitrogen, in a project designed by Drs. Marco and Baldwin.”
Both men nodded in the affirmative.
Colonel Dickerson posed a question. “ I understand it is your hope that you will be able to douse the creepers with this stuff and instantly freeze them solid. Then you are going to have men just break them in little pieces like China Dolls?”
“That is the theory, yes.”
“To be giving up a valuable piece of equipment, I'd sure like more than an untested theory.”
“It works in the laboratory.”
“Good for the laboratory. What else have we got?”
“We have an Apache attack helicopter exactly like the one at Langley, except theirs is operational.”
“So, it's not really like the one at Langley. What does it need to make it fly?”
Major McCaffrey was really getting into the soup. “To be honest sir, it can fly now.”
“So what's the problem?”
“It can't land.”
“Oh, I just know this is going to be good. Go on Major, enlighten us as to why a forty-five-million dollar helicopter can't land!”
“You see sir, about a month ago, one of the Hueys took a hard landing. The skids and struts were bent, so we decided to adapt the structure from the Apache, along with her armament pods. That way, we had an armed, multi-purpose unit, fully operational rather than a two seater.”
“And there is nothing you can adapt to the Apache to make it functional?” It seems to me, Mr. Eller here was just able to turn a traffic unit into a combat equipped aircraft. I would think, with a little effort, you can turn a highly efficient combat helicopter back into some semblance of what it was meant to be, wouldn't you?”
“Yes sir, I'd like to think we could!”
“Glad we agree. What else have we got?”
“As far as aircraft goes, nothing other that Mr. Porter's Piper Cherokee, but it's not armed. It is a good spotter though.”
“Well, find a way to arm the damn thing, and give Mr. Porter some offensive capability. I understand he is just the man to know what to do with it.”
“Our next problem is personnel sir. Currently our full complement is about one-hundred-fifty. This number includes mechanics, teachers for the children hidden below, guards, some administrative staff, cooks, and machine operators. Currently, we are also housing about three dozen scientists, laboratory assistants and the like. Besides the freezing project, they are developing a vaccine to prevent people from dying and turning when bitten.”
“Now that sounds great. How far along are they?”
“As far as I know, they began mouse testing yesterday.”
“Well, let them know that we're not interested in FDA approval here. If they even have a hope of it working, I want everyone on this base inoculated within two weeks. He pauses to look around. With all you told me, I don't see any pilots or combatants.”
“No, sir, like I said there are a few guards, Mr. Porter here and Tina Pearson, who has been guarding the children's area, Mr.Eller and the CAG-1 trainee he brought along.”
“So, we need to look for help. The only military facilities near here are Coast Guard. They should have both helicopters and pilots, as well as trained soldiers. Find these units. I don't know if their headquarters in the city survived, but the mobile units are on the water and should not be too hard to locate. Just follow the lake's shores. Once you find one, they'll lead you to the others. Now what about the CAG's Mr. Eller? Any chance of help from that direction?”
“Colonel, I might be able to get a couple of CAG teams here but that's ninety members. Based upon the odds we are looking at, it would not make any difference if it was nine-hundred or nine-thousand. If they are allowed to continue on their path unchecked, we will be overrun, an that's that! We need to hold up their advance on all fronts with stra
tegic strikes, just like someone mentioned, earlier. If during that time we can come up with something very big, we have a chance. The other choice is to nuke them. That will take care of the local group, but do little to solve the world problem. So, I'll get you some CAG teams, and with a vaccine against bites we might kill off a couple hundred thousand, but without some super weapon we still lose.”
“Very concisely put, Mr. Eller. Now it's my turn to offer some hope. When Dr. Baldwin and I arrived here, we said there were two fronts we were working on. One is to slow them down and save lives, the Liquid Nitro. The second was a plan to rid the world of the blight once and for all. It will involve directed microwaves, for which I will need a few zombies as test subjects. The preliminary work is already finished. If you have some people with advanced engineering backgrounds and a couple with high frequency radio or radar experience, we may be able to give you your miracle. It would be most helpful if you can keep the wolf from our door a few extra days or so.”
“And you actually think you can kill them off with this?”
“Colonel Dickerson, I know I can kill them with this. The problem is not killing everyone. We need to find a frequency that will just do damage only to the zombie brain tissue and not everyone else, too. If we can do that, the creepers are finished and we don't even damage a flower garden.”
“So we're clear? Develop weapon, get pilots, help, and copters from Coast Guard, round up other CAG groups, and launch harassing attacks to slow down the advance. And one more thing, we should also find Captain Pete and his C-113 to ferry in our help and any other men and supplies we can get our hands on. I want that Chinook in the air tomorrow so we can see how effective this freezing is. Follow it with a Huey full of guards, or whoever else can swing a sledge hammer.”
He pauses, and looks at Jessie.“Oh yes one more thing. Mr. Porter, do you think you might take Ms. Pearson and run along the shores looking for the Coast Guard Stations? I know you'd prefer Miss Winters, but she has some vaccine to make.”
Jessie stood and whipped out an exaggerated salute. It seemed the whole base was aware of his budding relationship with Robyn.