Army of the Damned (Sky Ghost #1)

by P. T. Dilloway

  “What is this place exactly? Some kind of Noah’s Ark for military personnel?”

  “You might say that. The idea was if the shit hit the fan, we’d be able to have someone hidden away to reclaim the country once the fallout and everything had died out. They didn’t really have a zombie outbreak in mind, but it’s the same principle.”

  “So were you in a frontline unit during the war?”

  “We were in California, getting ready to go over when they pulled us back. Got here and found the place empty. Those Navy guys were supposed to show up, along with a bomber wing from the Air Force. Your boys never showed either.”

  “Outbreak must have gotten them. So what exactly is your plan?”

  Briggs shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess we wait until someone higher up the food chain tells us what to do.”

  “That might be hard. The food chain is dead. We found them in Cheyenne Mountain with holes in their heads. Mass suicide or murder-suicide. No way to know which.”

  “Shit. You’re sure about this?”

  “I saw the bodies.”

  “You could be lying to flush us out of here.”

  “You’re welcome to go there if you want to see it yourself. There are just some kids and a few women to look after them.”

  Briggs lets out a sigh and then shakes his head. “Word gets out, the boys are going to be really unhappy. They’ve been waiting here two years on their asses and now you’re saying there’s no one left to report to.”

  “That makes you free agents now. However many guys you have, you could make a lot of gold or silver selling yourselves as mercenaries.”

  “We are United States Marines, Major. Not mercenaries.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to complete your mission. I know just how you can get started.”

  ***

  From the diagrams Briggs shows him of Facility X, it is a remarkable piece of engineering. Somehow they hollowed out Devils Tower without anyone knowing about it and replaced the mountain with room to accommodate more than fifteen thousand soldiers, along with up to five squadrons of aircraft. The planes would have to be kept in crates, but they would at least be there for when it was time to emerge and reclaim the country. About the only thing they didn’t provide for were ships; apparently trying to dismantle an AEGIS cruiser to stuff into the mountain stronghold didn’t seem practical.

  When Briggs finally decides Hunter is trustworthy enough, he reveals there are only three hundred soldiers in Facility X. Given how many it was designed to hold, there are supplies to last for decades. Unlike the smaller Cheyenne Mountain bunker, Facility X could hold all of the women and children rescued from Utopia for a good long time.

  Given the shape of the mountain, the facility is arranged in concentric circles, some housing barracks, others a mess hall or gym or the infirmary Hunter woke up in. The place is run by geothermic generators that should be able to provide power indefinitely. It’s an amazing setup; it’s a shame that hardly anyone got to use it when everything turned to shit.

  As Briggs gives Hunter the full tour, he asks, “What’s so bad about this Utopia place?”

  “They’ve got sort of the same philosophy as the government did when they built this. Only they’re using the zeebs and that air force of theirs to wipe everyone else out. Then they plan to repopulate with a bunch of women they have frozen underground. That sound like a good idea to you?”

  “Sounds fucking insane to me.”

  “Yeah, exactly. If we can get rid of them, we might be able to finally start pulling things back together. I’m not saying it would be easy, but we’d have a chance. We were already doing it up around Seattle when Utopia showed up.” Hunter gives Briggs an abbreviated version of the destruction of Snowcap Mountain. “They had to get rid of us because we were too successful. Now we need to return the favor.”

  “If these guys are doing what you say, then you can count me in. I’m sure most of the boys would be willing to join you too. After two years of sitting on our asses, we’re looking for a fight.”

  “I’m sure we can give you one. You got any armor with you?”

  “There are some trucks and Hummers, but no tanks or APCs.”

  “That might be a problem. Unless we can even the playing field.”

  A young man hurries up to the colonel and then tosses off a crisp salute. “Commander Wayne’s convoy is here, sir.”

  “Fine. Bring them in. But I don’t want anyone near those civilians. Got it? They are strictly hands-off.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young man hurries off to relay the orders.

  Briggs shakes his head. “I’m not sure how long that will last. Soon as word gets around about a bunch of women here—well, nature will probably take its course.”

  “There has to be some way to keep them safe. I didn’t bring them all the way from Utopia to let them get raped by a bunch of horny jarheads.”

  “I hear you, Major. There are some levels near the top that are unoccupied. We can put them up there and lock them in.”

  “What happens when someone breaks the lock?”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Hunter nods. It seems like the best they can do at the moment. They’ll just have to hope the Marines have more self-control than Briggs credits them with. Still, he’s planning to keep a very close eye on Casey. Again he wishes she had stayed at Cheyenne Mountain with Polly; it would be a lot safer there.

  The three vehicles are rumbling into the underground parking garage when Hunter and Briggs get there. A half-dozen armed Marines are there, their weapons at the ready. Briggs motions for them to stand down. He goes to the lead Hummer. “Commander Wayne?”

  “Other Hummer, sir,” Trip says. “I’m Lieutenant Gray George III, sir.”

  “Good to meet you, Lieutenant.” Briggs nods to him and then goes back to the second Hummer to talk with Wayne. Hunter doesn’t listen to their conversation; he hops up into the truck to find Casey.

  She gets up to wrap him in a hug. “Thank God! When we didn’t hear from you last night—”

  “Sorry. I was climbing down the mountain. Then a Marine introduced me to the butt of his rifle.”

  “You poor baby,” Casey says, running a hand over his face. “You don’t look too bad, all things considered.”

  “Must be my hard head.”

  “You’re so funny, Mr. Sky Ghost. So what now?”

  “There’s plenty of room here for everyone. We can bring the kids along later, when we’re sure it’s safe. There’s just one little snag.”

  “What?”

  “Well, there are three hundred Marines here. They’ve been here for two years. By themselves. Without any women. If you catch my drift.”

  Casey rolls her eyes. “You think they won’t be able to keep their hands off us?”

  “That’s what the guy in charge is worried about. We’re going to keep you guys locked up for a little bit. Just until we’re sure it’s safe.”

  “So from one prison to another, eh?”

  “Casey—”

  “I know. You’re doing your best. Don’t worry. We can take care of ourselves.”

  “I’m sure you can.” He kisses her on the lips, glad to taste them again. He just hopes no one else will be tasting these lips for a while.

  Chapter 32

  The women volunteer to take turns guarding their barracks to make sure no men get ideas. Hunter, Trip, and Wayne take a turn at the watch as well. For ten days everything has gone better than expected, though the tension is palpable whenever Hunter goes down to see Briggs. He’s not sure how much longer before there’s an incident, maybe even a wholesale riot.

  That shouldn’t be a problem in the next week. That should be when most of the soldiers finally emerge from the facility to venture to the staging area for the assault on Utopia. That staging area is Colorado Springs since they’ve already cleaned out the city of zeebs and it’s not extremely far away from Salt Lake City, well within range of their aircraft.r />
  To get there will require going through Mile High again. They’ve scraped together every bit of gold, silver, and jewelry they can find to pass the roadblocks, if three hundred heavily armed Marines isn’t enough incentive to let them pass. Briggs and his men will claim to be a mercenary group new to the area if anyone wants to know what they’re doing.

  Having gone over the plan several times, Hunter still isn’t sure it will work. Everything will hinge on knocking out Utopia’s air force. Even if all the Hornets from the Washington get put into service, they’ll still be outnumbered by Utopia’s Russian planes. Though it might seem arrogant, Hunter is hoping he’ll make enough of a difference to tip the balance.

  He studies the maps, trying to look for anything he might have missed. It’s a pretty simple plan: engage the Utopia air force and keep them busy while a couple of the Hornets bomb the zeeb pens to break them open. If the wranglers blow the collars on the zeebs then it’ll eliminate them as a threat. If not, then the zeebs will run amok, creating a panic like during the duel in the football stadium.

  From there, the Marines will be landed to either clean up the zeebs or take on Utopia’s security forces. Provided Utopia’s air superiority has been negated by then, the Hornets can be used to take out Utopia’s armored vehicles. If the Marines can gain control of the city, then Misuko and the rest of the frozen women can be brought out of hibernation.

  Hunter tries not to think about what will happen then. Will Misuko still want him? And what will he tell Casey? He shakes those thoughts away.

  A messenger runs into the room, his face red and sweaty. “You’re the Sky Ghost, right?”

  “That depends. Are you after the reward?”

  “There’s someone on the radio for you, sir. She says it’s urgent.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  The kid starts to run, so Hunter follows suit. From the messenger’s urgency, something bad must be happening. Utopia might be attacking Cheyenne Mountain. That seems most likely since no one else knows about Facility X.

  He gets to the radio room and is immediately handed a microphone. “Hello? This is the Sky Ghost. Over.”

  “About time,” Alice grumbles. “Thought you’d take all day.”

  “How’d you get this frequency?”

  “I keep telling you—”

  “It’s your job to know things. Right. What’s the problem?”

  “It’s your friends in Utopia. They’re on the move.”

  “Any idea where?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but they’re going south.”

  South means they’re probably going after Davis-Monthan. That’s where the Hornets they need are being assembled. It’s also where Val and Nation are recovering from their injuries. If Utopia dumps their zeebs on the place, Val and Nation are sitting ducks.

  “You’ve got to get a warning to Jimmy DiMarco at Davis-Monthan. They need to get everyone out of there as quick as they can. You got it?”

  “I got it. Good luck, Mr. Ghost.”

  “Thanks.”

  Hunter turns to find Briggs behind him. “I’ve got to go,” Hunter says. “Utopia’s going to hit Davis-Monthan. I have to try to stop them.”

  “That’s a pretty long ways away—”

  “I know. I have to try.”

  To keep the Harrier from giving away the facility’s location, Hunter had to climb back up the mountain to bring the plane down about a mile away and then cover it with a tarp and some brush. Briggs takes him in a jeep out to where the Harrier is still waiting under its tarp. “These things aren’t very fast,” Briggs says as they uncover the Harrier.

  “I know. I have something a lot faster in Colorado Springs.”

  “It’s still going to take a while to get there.”

  “I can’t just leave them. I have friends there.” Besides Val and Nation, there’s Jimmy DiMarco, the maintenance crews he worked with, and Tammy. He owes it to all of them to try to stop Utopia.

  “Well, good luck, son. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  “Thanks. We might have to move up our timetable. Or cancel it entirely.”

  “If you don’t make it back, you’re about the bravest son of a bitch I’ve known who isn’t a Marine.”

  “And you’re about the best jarhead I’ve known,” Hunter says. He presses his helmet on over his head and then brings down the canopy. Briggs sprints away from the plane before Hunter starts up the engines. He goes through the checklist as fast as he can to get the Harrier airborne.

  He pushes the throttles to maximum, having no time to waste. It still seems painfully slow. He does the mental calculations to figure how long it would take for planes from Utopia to get to Tucson. It should only be about ninety minutes for the Candids; the fighters would need far less time at full speed. Jimmy’s defense force can slow them down, but if Utopia is coming with everything, it won’t be nearly enough. How many of the Hornets—and their pilots—are ready for action?

  The most likely scenario is that he’ll get there far too late to prevent Utopia from dropping loads of zeebs on Davis-Monthan, but he might be able to catch them on the way back. That would let him avenge the fallen, not that that thought provides much comfort.

  He streaks over Mile High, not bothering to acknowledge the airport controllers. He hopes Alice got a message to Jimmy to let him get his defenses mobilized. That’s the only way to keep it from being a slaughter.

  He’s still going almost full throttle as he approaches the Colorado Springs airport. He drops in quick enough that the Harrier bounces a few inches when it comes down. The landing gear remain intact and he doesn’t crack his helmet on the canopy, so it’s a good enough landing.

  The engines are still winding down as he scrambles down from the plane to run for the hangar containing the X-29. At best there’s a half-hour before Utopia’s cargo planes reach Tucson. The fighters are probably already there if they used their afterburners. By now they might have already disposed of the defenses. As he climbs into the X-29’s cockpit, he imagines Davis-Monthan’s runways and hangars up in flames as Flankers and Fulcrums mercilessly strafe them.

  This is his fault. He led Utopia to Davis-Monthan. Even if he can excuse himself for not checking for a tracking device, he should have known Utopia would go after Davis-Monthan sooner rather than later. He should have made Jimmy evacuate the place, or at least the injured capable of being moved. Maybe there wasn’t an ideal place to move them to, but it would be better than letting them become snacks for a horde of trained zombies.

  As soon as the X-29 roars off the runway, Hunter kicks in the afterburner. They can probably feel the sonic boom in Cheyenne Mountain as he breaks the sound barrier. The X-29 continues to move until it’s past Mach 2.5, the acceleration pressing Hunter tight against his seat.

  New Mexico flashes by in a blur. As he enters the Arizona desert, his radar screen fills with blips. The larger ones are the cargo planes, a half-dozen in all. The smaller ones are the fighters, four around each of the cargo planes. That still leaves about a squadron free to deal with Jimmy’s defense force.

  In part to give his mind something to focus on besides thoughts of apocalyptic destruction, Hunter inventories his weapons. He has six Sidewinders under the wings, one on either wingtip, and then the cannon pod under the belly with a full load. That will have to be enough.

  He locks onto the cargo plane at the back of the group and then fires a Sidewinder from maximum range. It’s a low-percentage shot, but it will let them know he’s here. That might help to scatter them, if not abort their attack altogether.

  A couple of the Fulcrums escorting the cargo plane break off to challenge them. Hunter no longer has the nimble Harrier, but the X-29 has plenty of maneuverability too. He snaps it into a barrel roll to the right. The Fulcrums follow him, or at least try to. Before they can get a lock, he quickly changes direction on them. Since he’s coming straight at them, he snaps off a burst from the cannon pod. He shears the right wing off one and lea
ves the other trailing smoke.

  Hunter kicks the afterburner in to catch up to the convoy again. He launches another Sidewinder, this one hitting a Candid in one of its left engines. The cargo plane starts to lose altitude, its wing engulfed in flame and smoke. That’s one load of zeebs that won’t be hitting its target.

  He plunges deeper into the convoy, letting his instincts take control. It’s like a fever gripping his body, his conscious mind taking a backseat. He darts in and out, avoiding cannon bursts and missiles before the opposing pilots can even fire. In a few cases he manages to make them hit each other, saving him ammunition and missiles. Never, not even in the skies over China, has he flown like this—like a man possessed.

  The fever doesn’t abate until he hears the warning for bingo fuel. The X-29 is over Tucson now, only a few miles from Davis-Monthan. He can’t see any cargo planes left on his radar. The remaining fighters are turning tail for Utopia. Is it because they finished their mission or did he scare them off?

  The answer comes a few minutes later when he finds Davis-Monthan in flames as he feared. Despite this, he doesn’t see any zeebs milling around or chasing anyone. That probably means he got to all the cargo planes in time. That’s a small comfort now.

  “Davis-Monthan, this is the Sky Ghost. Can you hear me?” he calls, his voice thick like he just woke up from a two-day nap.

  There’s no response. He tries again with an identical result. The tower must be out of operation. He checks the fuel gauge. With the liberal use of the afterburner, he doesn’t have enough fuel left to get him to Phoenix or any other field close by. He’ll have to put down here and hope for the best.

  The runway doesn’t look fouled up from what he can tell. They were probably hoping to keep it intact so they could use it later, after they’d cleared out their pet zeebs. There’s no way to know if there’s any fuel left for him to use; he could end up stuck here until he can scavenge fuel from somewhere.

  He circles around to set his approach. He still can’t see anything wrong with the runway. The X-29 bounces as its back wheels touch down on the runway. There’s a jolt as the front gear comes down. He hits the brakes and puts the engine into full reverse to stop himself as quickly as possible.