by M. Lorrox
Jambavan tosses down four sets of climbing ropes that he has secured to vent structures on the roof, then he runs along the edge of the building and leaps off, into the courtyard.
At the opposite corner, where over one hundred zombies amass, Korina also leaps off the roof. The two of them, a knight and her squire, fly off the edge of safety and toward the danger below.
“Colonel Costanza, this is Captain Payne. Come in. Over.”
Charlie opens his eyes and grabs the radio handset from above his head. “Go ahead. Over.”
“We’re about to make our descent into Joint Base Andrews. Make sure you’re belted in. Over.”
Charlie smacks his lips as he inhales. “Good to go. Have you heard anything from Bravo team? Over.” He holds his breath. Would no news be good news? Would any news be good news?
If what happened to Alpha Squad wasn’t a fluke, Charlie knows that the vampires on board the other C-130—Tatsu, Schermer, and the specialist, Dr. Penelope Peeters—would have to fight for their lives like he, Tiger, and Aharon had to do. Maybe they’ll be caught even more off guard. Maybe none of them will survive… Tiger, you better have gotten to that chute.
“Nothing yet sir. Over.”
“Understood. Out.” He puts the radio back and looks around the plane. Such a mess. This is a disaster. He rubs his face with his hand, and dried blood crumbles off his skin. He looks across to the weapons storage area, to where his sword stands among assault rifles. He snorts and exhales. Good thing you’re always hungry, you devil.
When Charlie feels the C-130 finally come to a stop, he adeptly unbuckles his harness, rips the sword from the weapons storage, and begins opening the port-side access door. When it swings down, he squints into the light, then quickly pulls himself back into the shade of the cargo area.
“Damn it!” He sighs, then bends down to find his pack. It’s stored with the other packs on a sled somewhere beneath the Armadillos. He pulls on the closest sled, but it doesn’t budge. “Come on!”
From behind him, Burton, the flight navigator, sticks his head into the cargo area and freezes. “Holy fucking Christ.”
Charlie, feeling both benevolence and need, calls over his shoulder. “Soldier! Help me get my pack, NOW!”
“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!”
Burton climbs into the cargo area, slips on the vomit and blood-covered metal grate floor, but catches himself and regains his footing. He lifts a panel door attached to the side of the cargo area, then pushes and holds in a button. A motor hums, and the sleds with the packs on them slide toward the front of the plane.
Charlie tosses each sled without his pack aside. When the sled with his pack is clear of the forward-most Dillo, he grabs his pack and yanks it out. “Good enough Burton, now keep the others out of here. Go.”
Burton lets go of the button—stopping the winch—and closes the panel door. He looks around again at the torn-up starboard side wall, the tossed-aside sleds and battle-packs, and the cards, vomit, and blood that covers the rest of the floor. He turns and fumbles down the steps to the ground outside, lands on all fours, and launches vomit violently onto the tarmac and onto his own hands that shake beneath him.
Charlie opens his pack and finds one of his bottles of blood. He opens it and drinks. Yeah… That’s the stuff.
He puts the bottle back and slings the pack onto his shoulder. He carries the sword in his other hand as he walks down the stairs and into the light.
Wren Riggs finishes her update on the situation in the impromptu press area she has set up. Two dozen cameras are locked on to her, and DSLR cameras click hundreds of frames of her. She smiles. “Questions?” She points to a man wearing a teal polo shirt and white pants. He has a dimple on his chin. “Will? Hi. Go ahead.”
He pulls out his earpiece. “Will Rogers, WNER News. Video of the, quote, recon team, apparently show three teenagers and three adults. Can you tell us who they are and—” He shakes his head. “—and why on earth, KIDS, have scaled the walls of the Pentagon?”
“I’m told their identity is classified, but they are highly ranked and skilled individuals.”
Will shrugs dramatically. “Teenagers?”
“I don’t have any additional information for you.” She motions to a woman with her hand raised. “Ellen.”
She clears her throat. “Ellen Kountupes, DC Daily. Who will be in charge when the military takes over command?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have that information.”
“Why are they bringing war equipment?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Tanks, they’re bringing tanks.”
Wren swallows her concern and doesn’t show it. “I’m sure it’s a precautionary measure or the standard procedure for this situation.” She looks back into the lenses of the cameras surrounding her. “I’ll say it again: the public has nothing to be concerned with, the Pentagon is completely sealed off, and any threat they’ve identified is contained.”
There’s murmur in the crowd as whispers spread. Radios in the background buzz with activity. Wren looks over to where Captain Rojas was standing, but he’s frantic and grabbing another officer who looks shaken.
Wren glances across the top of the pool of reporters, careful not to make eye contact. “Thank you, we’ll have another update in—”
Will shoots one hand into the air. “Wren! We’re getting reports of zombies in the windows.” He holds his earpiece. “We’ve got live images of zombies in military uniforms in the windows of the Pentagon.”
Silence sweeps over Wren’s audience as they stare at her and wait.
She blinks. Then, she blinks again.
Jambavan surveys the ground as he falls. He sees the injured elders, and he notes that they have set up a perimeter around the prime minister and another person. He glances to the little area of the courtyard that he can see, and he counts a dozen zombies rushing toward the elders.
The rope he tied himself to the roof with runs out of slack, and he exhales with the jolt it sends through his body. It pulls him in an arc, swinging back in front of the area above the doors the elders entered the courtyard through, and toward the wall. He twists and aims his legs. When his feet connect with the wall, he runs, sideways along it.
He yells to the vampires below, “There’s ropes by the door!” Then, he unclips a pistol with a silencer already attached to it from a holster beneath his arm, and he uses both hands to aim while he runs.
-thwoop- He drops one. -thwoop, thwoop- Then the two that were near it. He’s out of room with his rope, so he jumps off the wall, straight toward the courtyard. He twists around, lands, and runs back in the other direction.
He can see an elder pointing to him and moving her lips. Good. Another zombie comes rushing into the clearing near the door. Jambavan doesn’t have a shot, but an elder is moving to intercept it. There’s another zombie to the side. -thwoop-
“Get to the ropes! I’ll cover you!” Eight left in the mag.
-thwoop-
Seven. I can switch at the next turn-around. He’s above the doors now, and he glances down. Some elders are climbing. It’s working! He looks back out and sees two more zombies rushing in. -thwoop, thwoop-
Across the giant courtyard, Korina also meets a quick jolt when she reaches the limit of her rope, but for her it comes at a higher personal cost. She needs to get closer to the ground, so she is using more rope...a lot more rope. While Jambavan dips as low as forty-five feet from the ground at his lowest point along the wall, Korina can almost touch the ground.
She fell over sixty feet before being jolted out of her plummet.
She rests and hangs against the wall just a few feet from the ground. She rubs her left side, where she thinks she has broken a few ribs. She takes some breaths and studies her symptoms. She attributes her difficulty in breathing to soreness, and she is relieved. Nothing perforated,
should be okay. Might have to rebreak ribs later, but right now…
She winces as she uses her core muscles to twist herself around and look out into the courtyard. She twitches when she sees the mass of zombies charging toward her.
Come and get it.
She reaches up as far as she can and grabs the rope. She grips hard and pulls herself up with one hand while she lifts her legs up at the hips, again, with a wince. She grabs the rope above her with her other hand, and again, lifts herself up with ease. She looks down. The zombies have reached the wall, and they’re clawing and jumping to try and grab her.
One of the zombies falls. The others trample it in their haste to reach her.
Korina places her legs against the wall to stand sideways. She grabs a portion of the rope she’s hanging from, while below her, a frothing sea of arms reach for her. She makes a loop, then folds it over, rolls another loop through it, then tightens it down, making a lineman’s loop. Now she has a nice hand-hold if she needs a quick escape.
She looks again at the zombies. One jumps up and grabs for her, but it’s still too low. It falls back to the group, then slips and is trampled down. Other zombies step on it, and they reach a little higher.
Korina lets out the slack in the rope and lets go of the loop. She drops toward the zombies and starts running along the wall—in an arc, up and away from them. She reaches her hands behind her, one low to unlatch her stowed weapon, and the other high—behind her neck—to grab its handle. When she grips it in her fingers, she smiles.
She decides to make an attack run before reaching the end of her long swing, so she twists around and changes direction. She grabs onto the loop above her with one hand, while she swings her weapon out and in front of her with the other. She looks at the logo printed on the side.
Nobody makes ’em like Louisville makes ’em.
She notices Enrique running along the roof on the side of the Pentagon that she’s facing. Behind her, she knows Eddy is running along that wall. They’re yelling and screaming, trying to attract as many zombies as possible from Jambavan and the elders. She looks out into the courtyard. It’s working. Damn, that’s a lot of zombies. She approaches those closest to the wall and she swings.
-CRRRK!-
“Line drive!” She runs another ten yards, switches hands on the loop and the bat, then flips around to head back for another pass.
Above, Sadie holds onto Korina’s rope and watches. She’s ready to pull the knight up if she needs. Sadie lifts and wraps the rope around her fist. That pile is getting taller. It won’t be long before they can reach her.
“Okay, Elder Costanza, are you good here?” Flying Eagle stands facing into the wind. His fingers rub his palms like he’s itchin’ to draw a pistol in an Old West shootout while his leather jacket hangs loose at his shoulders.
“All set, Eagle. Go get the elders.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turns and sprints away, the thick, heavy jacket held out behind him like a cape, his hands and feet blur through the air as he runs across the edge of the roof.
Sadie raises an eyebrow as she watches him. Now THAT is fast.
Charlie waits in the shade below one of the giant wings of the C-130 while the Armadillos are removed from the cargo area. Specialists are inside the cargo hold, taking samples of the deceased and assessing the damage to the plane. Charlie grips the sword in his hand. Soon.
He hears a vehicle approaching; he turns to see a black sedan. That better be Sky.
It is. She jumps out of the car and stands at attention alongside it as Charlie jogs over.
“Sky, you got my message. I hope you’re ready for a mission.”
“Aye sir, I am.”
“Good. I—”
-chrunk-
A man in a suit stands by the driver’s side of the car—a man who is smiling at Charlie.
“JD?”
JD smiles and removes his sunglasses. “Jack Diamond, FBI. Sorry for the secrecy before.”
“Uhhh, that’s okay, Jack. Are you just dropping her off or are you able to help?”
Jack clicks a button on the car’s keys, and the trunk opens. He walks toward the back of the car while slipping his coat off. “I’m happy to help if you let me, just give me a second.”
Charlie turns to Sky. “At ease, Sky. Tiger needs your help.”
She falters for a moment as she steps out of her stance, then she bolsters her courage and stands up straight with her fists at her side. “Aye, sir. What trouble is he in?”
Charlie puts a hand on her shoulder. “A lot. This is going to be very dangerous.”
She looks back and forth between his eyes. “Of course it’s dangerous. If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t need my help. Please, sir, what’s my mission?”
Jack jogs over beside her, slipping on a shoulder harness filled with a pair of huge silver pistols. “What’s our mission?”
Sky looks to her side and realizes how much bigger her new partner is. She smiles up at him. Sheesh, he’s a bruiser!
Charlie swallows. “Tiger and a parachute left the plane at altitude. The navigator’s best guess is that he landed within thirty miles of Memphis—”
Jack lifts a hand and interrupts him. “I’m sorry Charlie, I’m in the dark here. Who’s Tiger, and why is it a guess about where he landed?”
“He’s one of my men. Do you know my role in all of this?”
Jack nods. “I wasn’t just spotting you at the gym, buddy.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow and would have smiled if there was time. “He’s a vampire on the Council Guard, he’s her knight, and he fell from the plane when the soldiers with us were turned to zombies. Burton, our navigator, used a time estimate to gauge where he may have landed.”
Jack clears his throat. “I see.” Rescue mission in Memphis? No problem.
Charlie turns to Sky. “You need to go get him. He was injured when he fell, but I threw a chute after him. If he got to it—and he had plenty of time to get to it—he’ll need rescuing.”
She nods. “Memphis isn’t too far past The Line; the zombies won’t be too dense. I’m confident that—”
Charlie shakes his head. “No, not Memphis, Tennessee; Memphis, Texas… It’s in the panhandle. There’ll be millions of zombies there.”
Sky, a teenage vampire with Scottish heritage, was already extremely pale. Now she’s as white as salt. Oh, Pa…
Jack’s skin is a lot darker, but with this shock, his eyelids draw back and the whites of his eyes compete against Sky’s skin. On second thought.
“Breathe, you two, I have a plan.” Charlie takes a step to Jack’s side and places a hand on his shoulder. He turns around, facing the plane. “I’d like to introduce you to your ride, the Joint Light Tactical Vehicle, anti-zombie edition.”
While Korina smashes zombie heads with her bat and screams out catch phrases, Sadie pulls her up and keeps her just beyond the zombies’ reach. So far, Sadie has pulled her up ten feet. The pile of zombies is growing, and more and more keep climbing up just to get knocked off the top by Korina.
Eddy runs along the roof to where his mom is. When he reaches her, he grabs the rope behind her. “The elders are on the roof; we can pull her up.”
Sadie jerks the rope to alert Korina.
She glances up for a moment, then back at her next target. “Bottom of the ninth—two outs—Sarkis at the plate…”
-CRRRRICK!-
“Woohoo! Going, going…gone!”
Eddy watches the head fly onto the roof of the section to his right. It bounces once and rolls off and down the other side. He scratches behind his ear. “I feel like I should say something funny.”
Sadie groans as she begins pulling Korina up. “Don’t encourage her.”
When Korina is back on the roof, she uses the bloodied baseball bat as a walking stick. Eddy approaches her and
raises his hand. “You have earned the highest of fives.”
She laughs and slaps his hand HARD, and Eddy struggles not to wince.
Sadie drops the rope. “Listen, we’re not done yet.”
“Right, sorry, Mom.”
Korina unties her harness. “Yes, you’re right, we still have to get the elders to safety.”
“There’s more. Come on.” Sadie starts running along the roof.
The elders are sitting in shade cast by a structure that juts above the rest of the roof. As Sadie approaches, she banks toward them. Korina runs slower, following behind.
As he runs along the roof, Eddy can see Jambavan climbing up his rope. Eddy smiles and turns on the speed. He’s right there with a hand extended down to Jambavan when he reaches the top. “Great work, man!”
Jambavan takes Eddy’s hand and steps up onto the roof. “Great plan, man.”
When Raúl sees Sadie on her way over, he struggles to his feet to meet her. “My dear, Mary is badly hurt.”
Sadie runs straight to him and engulfs him in a hug that nearly flattens him.
“Easy!” He winces. “I’m weak.”
She pulls back. “Sorry. Mary’s hurt?”
He nods. “She’s lost an arm and a lot of blood.”
“Oh my...”
“She’s unconscious.”
Sadie looks at the others. She sees Flying Eagle kneeling beside the laid-out prime minister. “And Hamid?”
“Also unconscious. He carried Mary and protected her through…” He holds back tears. “It was hell in there. We barely made it to the courtyard.”
Sadie holds him by the shoulder. “But you made it.”
He nods. “In pieces. Philip’s arm was almost severed, and Vincent can no longer walk or stand.” He shakes his head and looks toward his feet.