Voodoo Plague - 01

by Dirk Patton

  “Alpha, be advised we have a civilian riot in progress in the street to the south of the LZ. Local law enforcement has engaged and shots are being fired.” How the hell could he tell someone over the radio that the zombies were here?

  “Acknowledged, Two Seven. Keep a sharp eye Captain. We’ve located package and am en route to you. Seven mikes – minutes – out.”

  Helm had intentionally left the radio feed switched to the intercom so the whole flight crew could listen in. They exchanged nervous glances as Anderson set a countdown timer on the Pave Hawk’s console to seven minutes, glancing at the center mounted chronometer display and noting the time was 2340. While he was looking at the display a bright red LED started pulsing in the center of the panel. An emergency indicator telling the pilot to switch to a specific encrypted military channel. Helm rotated the dial on the radio and entered the passcode of the day when asked. A click followed by a hiss not unlike a fax machine connecting then a clear voice was speaking in all their headsets.

  “…Condition 1. Bugs Bunny. All units set Condition 1.” The short message started repeating and all the blood drained from Helm’s face.

  “What’s Bugs Bunny?” Anderson asked, almost afraid of the answer. Helm looked like he was about to go into shock and didn’t react to Anderson’s question. “Captain Helm, what’s Bugs Bunny?” Anderson asked again, louder.

  Helm regained a degree of composure and looked over at him with the most haunted eyes Anderson had ever seen up to that point. “A nuclear weapon has been detonated in an American city.”

  The crew was stunned into silence, listening to the pre-recorded message repeat. Finally Helm reached forward and silenced the radio, switching back to the secure comm frequency for the SF Team. Pressing the button he spoke in a calmer voice than Anderson expected,

  “Alpha Team, Cadillac Two Seven.”

  “Alpha, go.” The stress was audible in the SF team leader’s voice and Anderson was sure he could hear the sound of suppressed weapons fire over the open circuit.

  “Alpha Team, we have received Bugs Bunny. I repeat, we have received Bugs Bunny.”

  There was no reply for a few heartbeats, then, “Alpha acknowledges Bugs Bunny. Out.” The voice was as calm and cold as ever and this time Anderson was certain he’d heard a suppressed rifle firing on full automatic.

  Anderson climbed all the way back into the cockpit and strapped in, ready to go as soon as the team returned. Out the windshield he could see Mayo looking around nervously, fingering the fire selector on the M4 rifle in his hands. He turned to see Blake scanning the roof, back and forth, the door gun traversing with him as he scanned. He turned back and started scanning the instruments, making sure the helicopter was ready to go when they were.

  “Contact,” Blake announced over the intercom.

  Anderson and Helm spun around in time to see a small crowd of white coated civilians coming onto the roof through the metal door the SF team had used to access the building. They spotted the helicopter and the man sitting in the door and started a shambling, shuffling walk forward. Two women in the group, one of them blonde with long hair screamed and ran towards them.

  “Sir?” Blake shouted over the intercom.

  “Fire Sergeant. Remember your ROE.” Helm answered instantly.

  The heavy machine gun spoke in short controlled bursts. The M240 is a belt fed weapon and fires a NATO designated round that is 7.62 mm. At any range out to a thousand yards it is lethal, but at less than two hundred feet it is absolutely devastating to the human body and the two women fell to the roof as their bodies were shredded by Blake’s fire. The group of men behind them didn’t pause or disperse, just kept on coming. Blake feathered the trigger and wreaked the same devastation on them. As Blake fired Helm got back on the radio and notified Alpha Team that they were repelling attackers. More people came out of the door, meeting the same fate as the first group as Blake cut them down.

  “Contact,” Mayo’s voice came over the intercom.

  At the far side of the roof another door was swinging open and a small group stumbled onto the roof. Several white shirted security guards led the way, followed by white coated workers. As soon as they saw the helicopter and Mayo aiming a rifle at them they stopped. One of the guards pushed back through the crowd and slammed the door, leaning his back against it and digging his heels into the surface of the roof.

  “Sir?” Mayo asked.

  “ROE has not changed, Airman. If they try to approach you will open fire.” Helm’s voice was amazingly steady.

  “Yes, sir.” Mayo’s voice, however, betrayed his doubt in their orders, but he held the rifle steady, finger on the trigger.

  One of the guards stepped forward a couple of steps, then stopped and cupped his hands around his mouth. He obviously was shouting to them but neither Helm nor Anderson could hear him from inside the Pave Hawk over the idling of engines.

  “What’s he saying, Mayo?” Anderson asked over the intercom.

  “Sir, he’s asking for help. Says they’re coming, whatever that means.”

  Helm and Anderson exchanged a worried look. “Stay frosty, Mayo.” Anderson said while Helm called Alpha Team.

  “Two Seven, acknowledge hostiles and civilians on roof. I have two men down and package is wounded. We’re at your location in thirty seconds.” More gunfire in the background, this time pistol fire that wasn’t suppressed. Had they run out of rifle ammo?

  Helm made sure Blake knew the SF team was about to exit the door when Mayo fired a burst at the crowd he was watching. One of the guards had started walking towards the helicopter and Mayo shot him in the chest. The guard with his back against the door shouted something and the remaining guards drew their pistols and started firing at the helicopter. The impacts of the bullets were audible even over the idling engines and Mayo opened up with the M4.

  Two of the guards went down, but two more were still firing. Mayo had to do a quick magazine change and before he could bring the rifle back to bear the guard holding the door flew forward as the door burst open and a large crowd of people flooded onto the roof. They immediately started attacking the people who were already there and Mayo stared in mute shock as blood and gore stained all the white clothing. Blake also opened up as more hostiles stumbled out of the other door.

  Anderson unhooked the flight harness again and scrambled into the back where he extracted the last M4 from the weapons locker, grabbing the last two magazines and jumping out to go support Mayo. His feet had just hit the roof when he spotted Alpha Team leader emerge onto the roof amidst a crowd that was trying to grab him and drag him down. He had a firm grip on the arm of the man Anderson had seen in the photo and was pulling him along as he kicked people out of his way and fired his pistol into the surrounding bodies.

  Blake had stopped firing for fear of hitting friendlies and Anderson shouldered the M4 rifle and started to run towards Alpha Team. He wasn’t half way there when with no apparent warning the man they’d been sent to evacuate turned and bit into Alpha leader’s neck. There was a spray of arterial blood then both collapsed under the weight of the crowd as it surged inward.

  Anderson stopped and started backing up, turning and running when a woman detached herself and with a blood chilling scream started running in his direction. Her face was smeared with bright red blood, stains down the front of her once pristine lab coat. Anderson dodged out of Blake’s sight line and the Tech Sergeant chopped her down with a brief press of the trigger.

  Back at the helicopter, Helm was frantically pointing at Mayo as Anderson ran up. Mayo had stepped away from the helicopter to fire at the hostiles and had inadvertently unplugged from the intercom. Helm had no way to tell him the mission was a bust and to get his ass back inside the Pave Hawk. Anderson ran to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him with him as he ran back to the side door.

  Helm had throttled up the engines and the rotor was spinning just below take off speed. Blake was still pouring controlled fire into the approa
ching crowd and Anderson was shocked to see Alpha leader, throat gashed open, stand up and stumble forward with the rest of the hostiles. He dove through the side door a split second behind Mayo and slapped Helm on the shoulder.

  The Pave Hawk leapt into the air, gaining fifty feet of altitude in seconds before Helm settled it into a stable hover. Mayo strapped himself into the door gunner support position and Anderson climbed forward and resumed his seat, clicking the flight harness into place. With his crew safely on board Helm pointed the nose towards their home base and fed power to the engines.

  37

  I had kept a vigilant watch on the tree line, frequently checking on the young Airman I’d sent to the cabin cruiser while the Lieutenant had told his story. Rachel had returned quickly with the small zippered package, disappeared inside for a few minutes then joined us in the open air to hear the story. She had placed herself on the rail next to me, so close that her shoulder and hip were touching mine. This was the first and only ‘intimate’ contact we’d had and I knew she was sending a subtle message to these men that she was not available. I noticed both of them noticing, their eyes quickly sliding off of Rachel and focusing on me. Choosing to use me in her deception didn’t bother me at all.

  “So how did you wind up here?” Rachel asked.

  “We were on our way back to our base. Captain Helm got on the radio to let our CO know that the SF team and our passenger hadn’t made it and that we were returning to base. We were told that our base was under attack by rioters, a fence had already fallen and the administrative and support staff were all that was left on the base and were being evacuated. We were told to continue on to Fort Campbell in Kentucky, even though we didn’t have our passenger.

  “We changed to the new heading and just a few minutes later we started getting an over temp warning from the rotor shaft. Sometimes those warning are false alarms so we continued on when the temp didn’t climb any more. We made it out over this lake when the temp suddenly shot up. Captain Helm aimed for the shore but before he could set us down the shaft seized up and we spun in where you see the helicopter now. Captain Helm was trapped and it took us hours to bend and pry enough of the metal away from him to get him out.”

  “Where did the houseboat and ski boat come from?” I asked, enjoying my cigarette and checking on Mayo. He stood with his back to me, binoculars raised to his eyes as he scanned the open water.

  “They were here just like you see them now. There was no one here when we crashed, and no one has returned. We’ve got no idea where they went or what happened to them.”

  I had a pretty good idea what happened to them. “So you’ve been here since you crashed? We saw you yesterday coming back from the south in the ski boat. Did you do something to stir up our friends, or were they just dropping in to say hello?”

  “We were running low on supplies and hadn’t heard much in the way of news, so we headed across the lake. There was a big marina and a bunch of stores we saw the night we flew over.”

  Lieutenant Anderson talked for another fifteen minutes, telling us about finding an armed camp at the marina huddled behind hastily erected barricades. They had traded one of their M4 rifles for food and were making their way back to their boat when they were jumped by two men who wanted their packs full of food and their other rifle. They had fought back, killing one of the men but losing their rifle and half the food in the scramble to get away as more men started chasing them. They had made it to the boat and thought they’d made it back across the lake without anyone knowing where they had gone.

  “OK, so now you know our story. How about telling us how you wound up here?” I agreed in exchange for another smoke. Blake handed me the pack and lighter with a smirk and Rachel stole a cigarette from me as I lit up and started telling an abbreviated version of our story. As I spoke their expressions went from cautious optimism to depression. They knew a lot of the shit that had happened to the US; knew about the nukes and had seen the infected firsthand, but they didn’t realize the infection was so widespread. When I was finished both men were wide eyed.

  “It’s amazing you’ve survived,” Blake spoke up. I had glossed over several details, especially where Rachel’s abduction was concerned. “You had to be Army or Corps, am I right?”

  “Army,” I answered with a grin. “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.” I got blank looks from everyone, Rachel included. None of these people had ever seen Star Wars? Really?

  “So, Lieutenant, you’re a pilot?” I asked.

  “Rotor wing qualified, yes sir.” He answered, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Well, the map I have says there’s an amphibious plane facility to the south of us. If we can find a plane do you think you could fly us out of here?”

  Anderson stood up, the first sign of a smile on his dirty face, “I sure as hell can. I was flying single and twin engine light planes when I was still in high school. Never done a take-off or landing on water, but I’ve read about it and it shouldn’t be a problem, just need more room to get into the air than a normal runway.” His excitement was infectious and Blake got to his feet also.

  “Don’t get too excited,” I warned. I haven’t seen a plane, just a reference on a map.

  “It’s worth checking out,” Blake said.

  “I agree,” Anderson chimed in. “But where would we go?”

  I told them about Max, and the report I’d heard that Nashville was safe, at least for the moment.

  “Hell, yeah!” Anderson was excited. “Nashville is maybe an hour away in a light plane, and it’s only another half hour to Fort Campbell.”

  “OK,” I said. “Tell me about everything you saw on your excursion south.”

  They filled me in and we pulled out the maps and identified that the seaplane facility was far enough away from the marina that they might not have seen it if they weren’t looking for it. They were pretty sure it was outside the barricades the survivors had erected, so we would likely have to deal with hordes of infected to get a plane.

  We talked over the maps for most of an hour then started working on a plan to get a plane. Rachel checked in on Captain Helm who was out cold with a weak dose of heroin in his veins to relieve the pain of his injuries, then took Mayo’s place on watch aboard the cabin cruiser. Mayo and Blake went swimming, recovering the M240 door gun from the crashed Pave Hawk and three OD green cans of ammo belts. We were pleased to see the cans had remained dry inside when Blake opened them on the deck of the houseboat.

  Blake sent Mayo back into the water to scavenge tools and parts while he stripped the machine gun down for a thorough cleaning and oiling. While we didn’t have any gun oil we did have a can of WD-40 that I had found in the cruiser. Not perfect, but you make do with what you have. At least it would provide enough lubrication to keep the gun from seizing up at the wrong time. I hoped.

  Mayo kept surfacing next to us, bringing back tools, a large assortment of thin walled aluminum tubing and a good length of flex hose. Blake would stop cleaning the gun every time Mayo made a delivery, checking the items and giving him instructions on what else to look for. I had to give the young Airman credit, he never once complained or argued, just kept going back under and finding what Blake asked for.

  Machine gun cleaned and reassembled, Blake set it aside and started working on the speedboat that Rachel and I had ridden over to them. First he used the flex hosing to extend the exhaust pipes down over the stern of the boat and into the water, securing them to the hull of the boat with metal straps and screws. He accomplished this with a lot of splashing and cursing, but when he had me start the engine after his modifications I was amazed at how quiet it was.

  Next he set to work with several lengths of the aluminum tubing and a large steel plate. First he mounted the plate to the deck of the speedboat in the bow, between two thickly padded benches that lined each side all the way to the pointed nose of the boat. Plate firmly bolted to the deck he and Mayo started attaching the tubing, tubes spread out at the bottom
but meeting about four feet up from the deck and forming a crude teepee shape. They punched holes through the tubing with a hand drill and gallons of sweat in the hot Georgia sun, then bolted the whole assembly together and to the plate.

  Blake spent another two hours working on a piece of metal that he finally attached to the top of the teepee, then hoisted the M240 onto the makeshift pintle he had created, securing it with two nuts threaded onto a thick bolt and tightened against each other. This arrangement would allow the machine gun to move freely, but not come off the pintle without the nuts first being removed. Work completed he dove into the water to wash off the sweat.

  “Outstanding work, Tech Sergeant.” I stuck out a hand and helped him climb back aboard the speedboat.

  “Thank you, sir,” he grinned and wiped water out of his eyes.

  “One thing guys,” I said. “Please stop siring me. I was a Master Sergeant, not an officer.”

  Anderson looked as surprised as a virgin on his wedding night and Blake let out a short bark of laughter. I had not bothered to correct their assumption earlier that I had been an officer when I was in the Army, but I just couldn’t take all the “Sirs” any more. Anderson had shown himself to be one of those rare officers that actually listened to his more experienced men so I didn’t think I was going to have a problem with him trying to assume command. If I did I’d deal with it. We were about to try and penetrate a hostile facility and make off with an airplane. This was my world, and I’d done something very similar before, minus hordes of infected that wanted to eat me.

  “All right, let’s get something to eat and then get some rest.” I said, watching Anderson out of the corner of my eye to see if he was going to have a problem with me still giving orders. When he didn’t make a peep I continued. “We’ll take two hour watches and I’ll take first watch. We’ll review the plan at 0100 hours and launch at 0130. Everyone good with that?”