Admiral shook his head at Garrison in disapproval. “Well, you heard the man. He found us a boat, let’s go.”
As we stood from our crouched positions around the platform, the sounds of water lapping on the dock was interrupted by multiple high-pitched screams.
“Damn it. I hoped we wouldn’t have to deal with these assholes. Jet, Arrow, you’re with me. The rest of you, get on that boat and help them get it off the dock ASAP. Go!” I ordered.
Without question, Jet and Arrow both fell to my flanks as the others ran to help with the boat. It felt good to be the squad leader again.
Chapter 21
Christopher Bryant
The chorus of screams from the infected grew louder and closer, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Sweat ran like a leaky faucet down my forehead. Jet, Arrow, and I stood at the base of the platform defending it against an attacker we couldn’t yet see, but we knew was coming.
I felt like a scared kid waiting for the boogeyman to jump out of my closet and eat me. Only these boogeymen were real, and they would most certainly eat all of if us given the opportunity.
Jet yelled out, “Nine o’clock, revenants comin’ in hot!”
I chose Jet and Arrow because they were good soldiers, I also wanted them because they were the two men on Admiral’s crew who still had ammunition.
“Fire at will, boys!” I shouted as I unleashed a barrage of bullets on the incoming super-infected.
My silenced shots were echoed by the unsilenced thunderclaps from Jet and Arrow’s M249 Squad automatic weapons. The undead let out their guttural moans almost like growls as our shots peppered their bodies, dropping some and blowing chunks off of others.
I paused to take stock of the situation unfolding around us. There were approximately thirty infected to our right, fifty to our left, and dozens more coming at us head on. We were not going to be able to take them all out. I turned behind me, looking at the others scrambling to release lines and all the other crap you need to do when launching a boat. They weren’t ready yet, so we needed to give them more time.
I yelled out to my comrades over the blasting of their weapons, “Pull back tighter! I want us back to back, so none of these undead shit for brains gets through! Arrow take out as many as you can at our three o’clock, Jet you take nine, and I’ve got our twelve!”
I raised my rifle, took aim, and fired. Shot for shot strategically placed in the brain of one of the infected. But it seemed that every time one dropped two filled its place snarling and biting the air at me. It was like they were an army of angry wasps pouring out of a hive someone had kicked.
The rate of firing increased to my sides. The crack of automatic gunfire reverberating all around us.
Arrow yelled out, “Reloading!”
I turned to my right and covered his side as well as mine, taking out the closest rotters. Arrow slammed a fresh clip into his SAW and resumed blasting into the thinning number of undead.
I turned back to the threats directly in front of me and continued firing into the crowd. Screams of the undead echoed all around us once again, and the infected crouched in an animal-like ready to pounce pose and froze like someone hit pause on a horror movie. I took the brief respite to reload without taking my eyes off of the strange behavior. Arrow and Jet ceased firing as well.
“What the hell are they doing now?” Jet questioned in his deep southern accent.
Arrow answered him in a matching southern drawl, “I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my ass, what the fuck ya’ll?”
“I don’t know what they’re doing, but they aren’t advancing, so let’s take the opportunity to give ‘em hell, boys!” I yelled as I pulled my sidearm and began firing.
Bullets ripped through the brains of the infected. Black blood and bone splashed all over the concrete. The bang of gunfire amped up, and the sound was deafening, making my ears ring. The smell of burning gunpowder filled the air as I unleashed my own war cry at the undead. Arrow and Jet followed suit, screaming as they fired.
I don’t know what came over me but screaming as I murdered these things made me feel so much better. It was a release I hadn’t known I needed. Everyone is entitled to a small mental breakdown in the thick of the zombie apocalypse. At least I think so.
I took a breath and was picking my next target when I heard Benning yell from behind us. “We’re ready to go! Fallback soldiers!” He commanded.
We did as ordered in a careful and orchestrated effort. Jet and I ran a few feet as Arrow covered us, then I stopped to cover as Arrow ran ahead with Jet. We leapfrogged taking turns covering each other as we made it to the end of the pier where the boat was slowly pulling away.
The undead seemed to realize what was happening and shrieked madly unpausing from their previous frozen state and advancing quickly. Their cries intensified in their fury, and as I got closer to the end of the pier, I could see what they were waiting for. It appeared they had called for reinforcements. A tidal wave of undead was heading right for us from the north. I couldn’t believe it. The super-infected had paused in their attempts at attacking us to wait for their slower brethren to ensure that they were successful in their assault.
Seeing the sheer number of undead barreling down on us gave me an extra shot of adrenaline. “We’re running out of time, guys. Forget about laying down cover, we have to get this boat off the dock now!” I screamed, pointing over Arrow’s shoulder at the incoming swarm.
Jet looked up, stopping in his tracks. “Well, ain’t I as confused as a fart in a fan factory. Where in the fuck did they all come from?”
I pushed Jet along, so he’d jump on board the drifting boat. “I think that’s why they all froze before. They called for backup and were waiting for it to arrive.”
Arrow looked at me with a confused expression as he helped me jump onto the boat. “Well fuck me sideways. These bastards are getting smart. I never thought I’d see the day when I wish we could go back to them zombies being dumber than a box of hammers, but here we are. Hey, Garrison! How about we get dem engines rollin’ ASAP? We’re about to have company, and they ain’t here for our hospitality.”
“Roger that!” Garrison yelled from the wheelhouse as the engines on the boat roared to life.
Garrison looked happier than a pig in shit behind the wheel, but the rest of us just looked defeated as we watched the oncoming mass.
We were about three hundred feet from the dock when the horde arrived. The undead spilled into the Hudson River like sewage. The smell was eye-watering, and the waves created by the sudden influx of bodies sinking in the water rocked the mid-sized boat making a few of our crew hug the edge of the vessel and vomit into the brown water.
I watched as we pulled further away from the horrific scene, and several dark silhouettes standing on top of a shipping container caught my eye. I pulled my rifle scope up, peering through and wishing I hadn’t. The figures I saw were roughly thirty of the super-infected hunched over, breathing heavily, like rabid panting dogs. They were watching us escape them once again. One infected, in particular, stood out from the rest. He was wearing a bright orange reflective vest like he was out hunting when he was turned. It was hunter orange... this couldn’t be the same zombie I had seen back when we first met up with Admiral and his crew. It just couldn’t be... but it was. I remembered not only the vest but that the infected was wearing a stained red handkerchief around its neck. This one was wearing that same handkerchief.
Chapter 22
Abigail Norrington
I've been locked in this room for hours now. The small window at the very top of the ten-foot ceiling told me it was night, but that was about it. I couldn't see anything else that might give away where I was.
My breasts were painfully swollen, and I needed to pump or do something to relieve them and keep my milk production up for when I got back to my girls. It's not like formula is easy to come by during the apocalypse.
I banged on the door as hard as I
could. “Hey! I need a cup or something in here unless you want me to leak all over the floor!”
I heard a quiet beep as the locks on the door were deactivated, so I backed away, not knowing what I should expect from whomever was going to barge inside.
A tall, brawny, and irate bald man with pockmarks all over his reddened face stomped into the room. “You have got to be quiet, damn it! I have a horrible headache, it's late, and I don't feel like putting up with your shit. It's bad enough they've got me on babysitting duty. Now I have to hear you whining about taking a leak. Shut up, would ya!” he yelled, spittle flying everywhere.
This guy was a hot, whiny mess. How he survived the apocalypse this far, I'll never know. I’m going to assume it had something to do with the fact that he was locked away here in a secure location. I’d bet my last dollar that he’s never even come face to face with the undead. Not that money means anything nowadays.
“I wasn't saying I had to take a leak, Einstein. I said I am leaking. I need a cup or something to squeeze my breastmilk into if that's not too much trouble. And maybe you've got a headache because you've got your head so far up your own ass you don't know which way is up. You're complaining about being locked up in a secure building with easy access to food and water... there are people outside these walls who are being torn apart and eaten by the dead. Have a little respect.”
“Listen, Missy...”
My head snapped to attention at that comment. I hated being called Missy. It's one of my most deep-rooted pet peeves. “I know you did not just call me Missy,” I interrupted him.
“Yeah, I did. What are you going to do about it... Missy?” he snarked.
I snapped. I marched up to the pock faced twat waffle and got right up in his face. He stood a good five or six inches taller than me, but with the rage boiling inside me, I couldn't have cared less if he was three feet taller. This douche bag was going to get it.
I stared up at him, and he stared down at me, his stinking breath filling my nostrils, fueling my anger even further. He moved ever so slightly to turn away from me, I heaved the palm of my hand up quickly into his face connecting with a satisfying crunch.
The guard doubled over in pain, grabbing his face as blood poured from his now broken nose.
“You bitch!” he managed to mumble before I brought my knee up fast and hard to connect with his hand covering his face bashing him in the nose again, and as I brought my leg down, I did so with the heel of my foot onto his instep. He crumpled to the floor, groaning and bleeding.
I grabbed the gun and key card from his belt along with his radio. I used the butt of the firearm to crack him in the temple sending his body into a rigid pose. He must have been having a seizure from the blunt force trauma to the head. Oh well. That's what you get for being a complete bag of dicks.
I took the extra clips of ammunition from him and kicked his legs out of the way before exiting the room and closing the door behind me.
I looked down the hallway checking left and then right. The coast was clear. My training from Chris on being stealthy and quiet kicked in immediately as I deliberately rolled my feet forward, barely bringing the front of my shoes to the ground and walking on the outer edges of my feet.
I checked the little rectangle window of each room as I walked past it looking for Stuart and Troy. I hoped they were in bed asleep in one of these rooms instead of in the lab with Peter because I wasn’t leaving here without them.
I continued to look as my adrenaline faded from the altercation with the guard, and my abdominal walls began to ache from the exertion. It wasn't as bad as I would have expected, but it was annoying. I found a safe corner to hide and pulled up my shirt to check if I had popped a stitch, and what I saw amazed me. The thick incision below my navel was barely a thinly visible line. The sutures were still there, but they were pointless because the wound had already closed, and it was surrounded by small black veins like the ones I had under my armpit from when Liam's goon dosed me. Even after all I had been through, seeing this still surprised me. I wonder if I will ever know the full extent of what the Antivirus 1015 has done to my body.
There was a commotion at the end of the hall, and I froze. It was the elevator doors opening, and I could hear muddled talking. “Get out. Let's go,” a distinctly male voice ordered.
I heard three pairs of soft footfalls heading in my direction, and I held my breath as to not make a single sound.
There was a soft beeping noise, and I heard a door open, the same voice that spoke before spoke again, “Get some rest guys. Dr. Martelle wants you back up and at it bright and early at 0600. I'll make sure that Hawke brings you something to eat.” I heard the door click shut. “Where the hell is Hawke anyway? Fucking lazy asshole is probably on the roof for another cigarette.” The man huffed, and I heard the elevator open and close again.
I glanced around the corner as I heard the doors close, and I could see the hallway was empty again. I looked at the elevator, and the numbers were going down. The guard appeared to be heading back down to the tenth floor. The sign on the wall told me I was on the twelfth. We had to be in a big building somewhere. Crap. We weren’t in Brigantine's old compound. I had no idea where the hell I was. That guy did say there was a roof the moron I knocked out would go up to. That was my best bet to figure out where we were and be able to brainstorm a plan of escape from the building. First, I needed to make sure the two prisoners that guard put in the room by the elevator were indeed Troy and Stuart so we could all get out of here together.
I held the handgun at my side, ready to fire if needed, and crept further down the hall, checking each of the rooms until I found Troy and Stuart.
I slid the keycard through the scanner, and the lock beeped back green. I pushed the door slowly and held my finger to my mouth while poking my head inside, indicating that Troy and Stuart should be quiet.
The surprised look on their faces as I entered the room was priceless. I have never seen Troy so happy, well maybe the first time when he tested his serum, and it worked, but his smiling face was still a welcome sight.
“What the hell, Abby? How did you get out?” Stuart whispered as Troy hugged me.
“I may or may not have killed that jizz-tissue guard Hawke. He called me a name I didn't like, so I broke his nose and bashed him in the head with his gun. I left him locked in my room seizing, so he might be just fine,” I chuckled quietly, laying the sarcasm on thick.
Troy let me go, and Stuart embraced me next. “You are one tough chick, you know that, Abby?”
I smiled at Stuart. “And don't you forget it. Sorry to cut our reunion short, but I have no idea when or if more guards are going to come up here, so we need to get the hell out of here. The guard that brought you in went down to the tenth floor, so I'm thinking we get up to the roof, figure out where the hell we are and then make a better plan as to how the heck we're going to get out of here and back to the cabin.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Troy agreed as Stuart nodded in approval.
I slid the card back through the reader, it beeped back green, and we exited the room into the dark hallway.
We used the stairs to get to the roof of the building. I didn't want to try our luck with the elevator, and to my surprise, the roof was only one more floor up.
“I would have thought this building was much taller,” I said as I slid the key card through the slot to the roof access door. “When I got here, the elevator ride down to the lab was pretty long. I guess this building is just old as hell, and the elevators are slower than shit.”
Stuart stifled a laugh. “Oh, silly, Abby. This a covert black site building, the twelve floors above ground are all office spaces for the regular day to day stuff the government let the civilian population see. The real building is all underground. This place has a full hundred stories underground. That's where the lab Dr. Peter Martelle works out of is,” Stuart said as we walked out into the cold dark evening looking out over a city.
Troy sneered, �
��Yeah, that's where he's been forcing us to work on his new project.”
I stopped dead in my tracks at Troy's reveal of new information. “What do you mean, his new project? What is Peter the Pedophile up to now?”
Stuart stopped, turned, and hugged me tightly. “I'm so sorry, Abby. Peter is planning on using your daughters to make more of the Antivirus 1015 and use a modified version of the Perdition Virus to make the super soldiers the government contracted him and his ex-wife Dr. Brigantine to create in the first place.”
I pulled away from Stuart, looking him in the eyes. “What? That sounds insane. It's like the plot of a bad science fiction novel.”
Stuart pulled me into a half hug. “Is it any crazier than the dead coming back to life?”
“Well... when you put it like that, no. Not so much.”
Troy grabbed my shoulder to pull my attention to him. “Peter said the Antivirus 1015 had special properties that would give the people it was administered to better healing capabilities and superhuman strength. Have you experienced anything like that, Abby? You’ve been exposed to the antivirus for months.”
It all made sense to me now. I had been thinking there was something different about me... well, other than being invisible to the infected. I’ve had way too many injuries to not be permanently disabled. And each of those injuries all healed much quicker than expected, but it seemed like the longer the antivirus pumped through me, the faster I healed. I also wouldn't expect someone that's only 5'5 and just shy of a hundred and twenty pounds to be able to do as much damage as I had done to Hawke. He was an idiot, but he was a big guy and a trained soldier for that matter. Now that I really took stock of everything, I did feel like I was getting more powerful, especially after having the girls. Maybe the pregnancy stalled the developments, and now that I had given birth, my abilities were cultivating at a more significant rate.
“I had a c-section a few days ago, does this look like I have improved healing abilities?” I responded as I lifted my shirt, showing them my almost completely healed surgical site accompanied by the tell-tale black veins of the antivirus.
Z-Strain (Book 3): Fallout Page 14