The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End

by Jason Kristopher

  He looked over at me as he stopped, and there was again that unspoken bond between us. He’s been in the trenches too, and had to kill those he cared about. I nodded solemnly, a sign of respect from one warrior to another.

  I turned to look out the window as we crossed the Rockies, the mountains lit by the early-dawn light. I felt calm; we were well-trained, prepared soldiers with the latest military hardware. It never occurred to me that we might return with fewer friends than when we’d left.

  It should have.

  Chapter Eight

  Roosevelt, Utah

  I watched as the big plane roared off down Route 191, five miles east of Roosevelt. As it rose higher, it banked to the northwest, most likely headed for Hill Air Force Base just outside Salt Lake City.

  The Humvees were idling in a line headed toward the small town, the barrels of the machine guns glinting dully in the sun.

  This early, there wasn’t likely to be any traffic coming west towards the town, and the sheriff and his men had already cordoned off those coming from it. All that was left was for us to get in there and take out the walkers. The other two teams had dispersed to their vehicles, and I joined Kim and Commander Anderson in the first vehicle in line.

  As I climbed in, our team leader began barking orders. “All teams, One Alpha Six,” she said. “Prepare to move to assigned positions.” She nodded at the driver, and we began to move west. “Roll out.”

  We rumbled down the highway towards the town, checking our weapons and other gear nervously, avoiding at all costs looking each other in the eye. We’d simulated the environment, we’d run the drills, but this was our first live-fire exercise, and it would make or break us as a unit. Each of us needed to deal with that on our own, at least for the moment.

  Suddenly we slowed, a sheriff’s deputy waving us through the roadblock. I wondered what he must be thinking of these troops rolling into his town, and how worried he must now be about what they had seen and experienced.

  A few minutes later there was a slight bump and we came to a stop. The driver looked back at Kim. “We’re here, ma’am. Uintah Basin Medical Center.”

  “Defensive positions. Move out!” Kim was taking to this command thing rather well, it seemed.

  We moved to our assigned guard positions as Kim walked over to the Sheriff.

  The Humvees moved off, disgorging their cargo at the pre-planned locations. The other teams spread out, with the armored transports taking up support positions. I didn’t see any walkers, and there were no reports from the other squads. It looked clear… for now.

  I glanced over at Kim, but couldn’t hear anything. She walked back over and motioned for me to join her as the sheriff walked back to his squad car and left.

  “He says they’ve got about ten to fifteen walkers in the hospital, which they’ve chained shut.” I snorted. That wouldn’t hold them for very long, and I would be surprised if all of them were still intact now. Walkers weren’t super-strong, but they would push past the normal limits of endurance that living humans had — and that made all the difference. Zombies didn’t care if they tore a muscle or sprained something. I started to ask a question, but she shook her head.

  “I know, but he can’t get any of his people to get close enough to really check on the chains, not when it’s still even slightly dark out, anyway. They’ve heard rumors, and some of them didn’t make it out, so they’re not about to go back in. At least, that’s what he says. I told him to check on his people, make sure they’re all where they need to be and that everyone’s staying home.”

  She turned back to the hospital, pulling an overhead photo from a pocket. “We’ve got primary entrances here, here and here, plus side doors, the loading dock, etc. We’ll check the primary exits first, then spread out along the perimeter in teams and look for egress points.”

  I nodded.

  Kim went on, “1st team: Bravo, north side main entrance. 2nd team: Charlie east, Delta west. Verify and secure primary exits, then spread out for secondaries and hold.”

  I whistled, and the other four members of Alpha and I moved forward, Kim at my side. The SCAR machine guns we all carried were held ready as we moved forward in a low crouch. We fanned out as we approached the front of the building, and stopped fifty feet from the front door.

  The main entrance, like most hospitals, appeared to be a sliding glass door, though this one had been disabled and its outer handles chained together. I couldn’t see any movement through the glass, but the chain looked intact.

  Maybe they’re all still in there, I thought, then grimaced. Yeah, like our luck is that good.

  “Alpha clear and secure.” Kim’s voice in my headset was loud and clear, and we waited for similar confirmations from the other squads.

  “Bravo, clear and secure.”

  “Charlie, clear and secure.”

  We all paused, but there was nothing from Delta. Kim tried again. “Delta, report!”

  There was a crackle of static. “…piece of shit! Sorry, ma’am. My fucking radio wasn’t working. I had to… Wait one.” We waited in silence, scanning the still dark interior of the hospital and the surrounding grounds. “Delta here, ma’am. West entrance is not secure, repeat, not secure. I can see the chain, but it’s on the ground and appears to be broken. The door is ajar, and I can see blood on the wall.”

  “Roger, Delta. Mobile Three, move to support Delta and scan that area for movement. Delta, secure that exit.” Her voice was cold and hard, and I glanced at this woman who was my commanding officer. Her jaw was set, she looked pissed, and I knew that if anyone could pull this off, she could. Poor dumb sons of bitches; they’ve screwed with the wrong soldiers.

  “Delta, moving to secure.” We heard a sharp intake of breath. “Walker spotted.” A pause, and then a whispered “Walker down. Door secure.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and saw Gaines doing something similar to my left. We’d passed our first hurdle; somehow everything was just a bit more real, now. Even with our training encounters with Chauncey, we hadn’t really gotten used to the reality of what we were up against.

  Kim whispered into her mike. “Good work, Delta. All teams, move to secondary positions and then regroup.” Reynolds, Barnes and I split off and moved to the right, looking for other doors or broken windows that might indicate a zombie had escaped the facility. Not finding anything, we returned to our prior position and were met by Martinez, Gaines and Eaton, who shook their heads as they crouched.

  “Alpha, clear.” The other squads reported in as they also cleared their sides of the medical center.

  “Charlie, clear.”

  “Delta, clear.”

  “Bravo, clear.” As this last transmission came in, there was the distant crash of breaking glass, and a quick gasp from the radio. “Scratch that, multiple walkers, northeast corner.”

  Kim swore softly and keyed her mike. “Mobile Two, move to intercept and support. Charlie, assist.”

  “Roger, Mobile Two moving to engage.”

  As the strong wind shifted our direction, we finally heard the moaning of the zombies, loud enough to be heard even over that distance. Moaning that was swiftly cut off, followed by a laugh into the mike by Powell, the Bravo squadleader. “Ma’am, all targets down. Mobile two… well, she just ran them over, ma’am.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at the idea, and the others joined me, except for Barnes. “Stay frosty, Bravo Six. Mobile Two, fall back to support position. Bravo, neutralize targets on the ground.” Zombies would get back up again unless the brain was destroyed, and despite a half-ton piece of military hardware rolling over them, something was bound to get missed. A few moments later, we heard again from Bravo Six. “Targets neutralized.”

  “Charlie team, reinforce Bravo. Delta, Alpha is headed your way. Mobile units, set up rolling perimeter and activate REAPRs.”

  I looked down at the REAPR strapped around my forearm to make sure it was on and functioning. The indicators o
n the device showed green across the board, meaning it was in contact with the base units attached to the big M-2 machineguns on the Humvees.

  In simulated combat, we had discovered that it was the single best invention AEGIS had ever had to determine quickly whether a soldier had been turned, completely aside from its usefulness as an overall health and status indicator for the troops in the field. Zombies had no pulse, hence anything walking around with a REAPR and no pulse could safely be counted on to be a walker. This system, combined with motion-sensing and infrared imaging that indicated moving, cold targets, boasted a 99.8% accuracy rate in the identification of soldiers that had been turned.

  We moved forward to the west to join Delta squad as we prepared to enter the hospital. “Delta, be advised Alpha inbound at your three.” No sense in having us round the corner only to get shot by our own troops.

  “Roger, Alpha. Welcome to the party.”

  We grouped at the entrance Delta had re-secured. There was a small metal-inlaid security window next to the door, or what had once been a window. The safety glass had shattered and lay on the walkway, presumably broken by walkers trying to escape the facility. The metal door had been bent and twisted by the force of the blows that it had sustained from the inside, and the cheap metal lock had given way. The chain that someone had locked it with was now wrapped around the door’s handle and the steel window frame, allowing only a small space between for anything to enter or exit. Through the window, I could see one crumpled form, and I assumed it was the zombie they had taken out to secure the door.

  We crouched there in the now-bright morning sun, with the Humvees moving in their rolling perimeter around the hospital, churning up what little grass there was. The .50 caliber M2 machine gun swiveled atop their turrets, checking for targets in 360 degrees. The rest of the squad and I looked at Kim, ready for her orders.

  “Bravo, Charlie, report status,” she said.

  Powell responded. “Bravo and Charlie are go for entry.”

  “Initiate sweep and clear. By the numbers.”

  “Wilco.”

  I ran forward, staying low as Reynolds moved up beside me to open the door as Martinez opened the lock. Eaton and Gaines covered me while Barnes maintained a rear-guard.

  “On three,” Reynolds murmured quietly. “One, two, three!” He yanked open the door and I quickly scanned for targets as he and Gaines stepped to my side.

  “Clear!” I whispered, hearing similar reports from Bravo and Charlie teams as they moved into their own entrances. I slowly entered the building, carefully rounding the corner of the hallway on my right as the others moved up. A shambling figure caught my eye at the end of the hallway, a flickering light betraying movement just before the signature moan reached us. “Walker spotted,” I said quietly, and then fired a three-round burst at the target.

  The suppressor on my FN SCAR-H battle rifle softened the shots to nothing more than a few muffled coughs, and at least one of the bullets connected, showering the wall behind the zombie with blood and brain matter. “Walker down.”

  We moved slowly through the medical center, carefully checking closed doors and open rooms. A small knock on a closed door would tell us whether it was populated by one of the ghouls or empty, and we put more than a few rounds into walkers that suddenly erupted from nooks and crannies. Fortunately, we had all trained well and knew what we were getting into, and we had no injuries.

  This is too easy, I thought. We’d only killed four zombies at this point, and Bravo and Charlie had put down another three. We’re missing something, here. Where are all the walkers?

  “Roberts, stand fast!” We all heard the voice of Commander Anderson on our radios, and froze where we were, our training having ingrained in us an immediate response to orders from a superior.

  “It’s alright, commander, I knocked,” came Roberts’ voice. A second went by, then two, and suddenly we heard a piercing scream echo down the empty hallways, followed by a crash. The scream was abruptly cut short, and all was quiet once more. We were left looking at each other wondering what had happened.

  “Bravo team, report.” Kim kept the fear and agitation she must be feeling out of her voice.

  A pause, and Powell responded. “Ma’am, Roberts is down. Repeat, Roberts is down.”

  “Understood. Mark for retrieval and neutralize.”

  “Already done, ma’am. Bravo and Charlie teams are continuing sweep.”

  I looked back at Kim and she motioned for us to continue. We moved through the rest of that section of the hospital, Eaton marking cleared rooms with her phosphorescent paint-stick. These were specially designed to apply paint that would fluoresce in night-vision goggles as well as glow brightly during the day. These were a god-send to the sweep teams, allowing them to avoid having to retrace their steps.

  As we moved toward the reception area and our planned rendezvous, we found two more zombies and put them down. At the entrance to reception, we paused at a signal from Kim, then crouched down as she indicated more than ten targets were in sight. I crept up beside her and counted.

  Well, this is where they all are, I realized. I wondered why we hadn’t seen them from outside but realized they happened to be far enough back in the shadows to avoid direct sight-lines from the exterior. There had to be at least fifteen zombies standing still and quiet at random spots throughout the reception area — deadly terror given form and shape.

  How I hated them.

  “Bravo, Charlie teams, report,” Kim said.

  “Bravo and Charlie clear and moving to reception.”

  “Be advised, multiple walkers in reception.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  We waited motionless until we saw the dark forms of the other teams come to a halt in the shadows across the reception area. Kim signaled again, and we activated the laser sights on our guns, each targeting a walker. Fortunately, the zombies didn’t seem to notice the glowing red dots on the sides of their heads.

  “Fire,” Kim whispered, and a sort of wet crackling noise enveloped us all as the silenced and flash-dampened muzzles of the machine guns sent their deadly cargo into the zombies skulls. Gore splattered the front door of the hospital, and I began to realize how little I envied the AEGIS clean-up crew.

  “All teams, reception clear. Split into fire teams and make a final sweep. Commander Anderson, sir, you’re with me.” Anderson split off from the other group and came over to our side of the reception hall as the others split up to double-check hallways and doors as we headed back out the way we’d come in.

  “Mobile units, Alpha Six; the hospital is clear. Report activity.”

  “No activity, ma’am, though we did have some movement just after you went in. No hostile contact.”

  “What sort of movement, soldier?”

  “Ma’am, it appeared that we might have a walker to the northwest, but the movement wasn’t sustained and if it was really there in the first place, we lost it. It might have been nothing, ma’am.”

  “Very well. Maintain scans of that area, just in case. Mobile Two and Three maintain patrol. Mobile One prepare for retrieval to north side.”

  “Acknowledged, Mobile One moving forward for retrieval. ETA 1 minute.”

  We left the hospital, ensuring that the facility was clear. There were no surprises, and we exited through the metal side door, leaving it unchained and open.

  “Mobile One, patch me through to Sheriff Warren in his car.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Patch coming up… now.”

  “Hello, Sheriff Warren? Yes, sir, the hospital is clear, sir.” Kim paused, listening as we maintained our alert status, scanning the parking lot and open areas of the middle school across the street for any sign of walkers or infected people.

  “No, sir,” Kim continued. “We didn’t find any survivors, sir. Yes, sir, we did a thorough search. Sir, I have to ask — have there been any reports of walkers anywhere else in town, sir? Okay. Okay, I see. No, sir, stay where you are. Thank you, sir.”
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br />   She rolled her eyes as she looked back at Anderson and I. “Like I wouldn’t look for survivors. He said there’s a small farmhouse to the northwest just past those trees. The Millers live there, and he hasn’t been able to get a hold of them. A deputy sent out there to collect them didn’t return, and he can’t get him on the radio, either.”

  Anderson and I looked at each other, and then back at Kim, who shrugged. “They’re dead by now; you both know it and I know it. We’ve got a job to do, though, so let’s get it done.” Keying her mike once more, she turned to face northwest. “Mobile units, retrieve the teams and proceed northwest on Mobile One’s six.”