“Get on that bird,” I called to Fitzy.
“Fuck you, too,” he replied.
I could see that he was cradling one arm and using his pistol in his left hand. Blood dripped off of his fingers and he was barely keeping from swaying as he stood. He was in no shape to fight. If we had any chance of fighting our way clear of this, there was no way that he’d be in any kind of shape to run. He looked like he might bleed out, long before that happened.
Stepping quickly up next to him, I drove my fist into his face. He crumpled to the ground and looked up at me with a bewildered look on his face. His eyes were losing focus and he was fighting hard to maintain consciousness. Before he could pass out, I leaned in close and whispered in his ear. I told him where to find the compound and what radio frequency to use. Then I picked him up by the body armor and handed him to Shura.
They quickly pulled him on board the chopper and Shura turned to nod at me. He understood why I wasn’t leaving. He might not like it, but I could tell that he understood. I wanted to tell him several things, but there just wasn’t time. They had to go now if they had any chance of getting away.
Stepping back, I gave the pilot the thumb’s up and he returned it. Seconds later, the big Huey began to climb into the sky. As the rest of us on the ground began to prepare to defend until the last man, I glanced towards the other chopper. Just as it was beginning to lift off, one of the soldiers on the line broke free and ran towards it. I recognized him instantly. It was Lieutenant Hadley.
Not only had he ignored his duty and failed to post the perimeter guard, allowing our perimeter to be breached. Now he was running to save himself and leaving the rest of us to die for him. Instantly, my rage burned to the surface and I knew I would not let this coward get away with it.
“Hadley!” I bellowed.
He turned and looked at me with fear in his eyes. He was in the open, about halfway to the chopper. Before he could do or say anything else, I drew the big XVR and fired from the hip. The bullet slammed into his forehead with enough force to knock him over backwards and send a fountain of gore high into the air.
“Fucking coward,” I hissed, putting the big pistol back into my holster.
The Blackhawk lifted into the air and banked away from the compound, heading south to follow the Huey. We had bought them enough time to get away. Now all we had to do was survive the fall of FOB Warhorse. No fucking sweat.
All around us, the dead were pouring into the compound. There were only about ten of us left to fight back. I was running very low on ammo in my M-4, so I switched to my Beowulf. I began picking my shots, watching as the dead came apart when I hit them with the massive .50 caliber round. Off to my left, I saw the big warrior coming towards us. In one hand, he held a massive pistol and in the other was another sword. This one, much different than the one I had taken from him on our last meeting. This one was black and looked ominous with a wickedly curved blade and serrations along the back edge.
In one swift motion, he shot one soldier and then lunged to the side to skewer another through the abdomen. With menacing slowness, he lifted the impaled soldier off of the ground and slowly let them slide down the blade to the hilt of the sword. I could hear the anguished screams of the young soldier as the massive blade tore its way through his body.
As much as I wanted to make the big warrior pay for what he had done to all of us, I knew that this battle was lost. If we remained any longer, we would all be dead. I glanced around and surveyed the carnage and looked for any possible way out. Only one possible solution leapt out at me. If we could make it to where the Humvees were parked, we might be able to get through the breach in the fence and escape.
“Fall back to the vehicles!” I bellowed.
“I’m right behind you,” said a familiar voice.
It was Sergeant Leffingwell.
“You told me to get the Colonel on the chopper,” she said with a grin. “You never told me to get on it myself.”
There wasn’t anything I could say. It was too late for her to get away on one of the flights. Still, it was reassuring to know that I had at least one competent soldier with me. With her help, I might be able to save a few of these kids after all.
“Fall back,” she screamed. “You heard the man. Move!”
We began to fight our way towards where the Humvees were parked. All around us, the undead were savagely tearing into the flesh of both the living and the dead. They were in a feeding frenzy, feasting on the buffet of carnage that had been our safe haven only minutes before. The base was lost. We either escaped or we became part of the slaughter.
A Sprinter took down one of the PFC’s to my left. He had been one of the ones who had been with the Lieutenant when they tried to take my weapons away. I shot him in the head as we fell back, ending his suffering. The Sprinter seemed to not notice and continued to take chunks out of his flesh.
Glancing back, I saw more of the dead emerge through the opening. These walked differently than the others and moved in a crouching walk. There were six of them and they took up position around the giant warrior, crouching like hunting dogs at his feet. When he turned towards our group and lifted his finger, they launched themselves at us with leaps and bounds that covered the distance with startling speed. It only took my mind a moment to register what they were.
“Stalkers!” I bellowed and began firing at them.
The others followed my lead and poured on the fire. The speed of the creatures was frightening as they managed to dodge the worst of the fusillade. Even the mighty Beowulf only managed to take down one of them before they were close enough to leap at their prey. Five more soldiers went down screaming beneath their teeth and claws.
By the time we reached the vehicles, there were only four of us left. There was Sergeant Leffingwell and two privates whose names I didn’t know and myself. One of the privates was practically carrying the other one. I wasn’t certain how badly wounded he was, but I wasn’t willing to leave him behind. Not so long as we had a shot at saving him. We dove inside the Humvee and locked the doors. As I fired up the engine, the big warrior began running towards us, firing as he ran. The bullets impacted the armor with tremendous force but didn’t penetrate.
I yanked the transmission into drive and punched the accelerator to the floor, angling for the nearest opening in the perimeter. I drove over numerous bodies as we shot away from the carnage behind us, crushing many of them beneath our wheels. Not all of them had been undead. Some of them had been the bodies of our own men, lost in the battle.
My last glimpse of the chaos behind us as we shot through the opening was of total destruction. I felt remorse for anyone inside there that might still be alive. FOB Warhorse and all who were inside now belonged to the dead. There was nothing more we could do for them. Our only salvation lay in escape.
As we sped away from the area, I saw the big warrior silhouetted in the moonlight. He was standing atop one of the conex boxes that had formed the perimeter, watching us go. He was holding his sword aloft in his right hand and in his outstretched left hand was a severed head. I could still see the ragged flesh of the neck. The big warrior had thrown his head back and was bellowing something to the heavens. Deep down inside, I knew it was my name.
“Next time, motherfucker,” I vowed. “Next time, I’m going to kill you.”
Chapter Nine
Difficult Choices
“Listen to the sound of dead men dying,
March as they flee but exiled bound.
Their ship once sailed no longer anchors,
For gone is the green and their hallowed ground.”
-Flogging Molly
- The Kilburn High
I slid the Humvee sideways onto the blacktop and accelerated down the highway, away from town. We needed to get as far away from any population centers as possible, since we were dangerously low on ammo and had nowhere safe to run to. We were completely cut off and on our own. I checked the SINCGARS unit, but it didn’t work. That meant t
hat we had no way to contact the choppers to let them know that we’d made it out. It also meant we had no way to call them to come get us.
“What the fuck was that?” screamed a Private. “Where did they come from?”
“Calm down,” I snapped. “Hadley didn’t set a perimeter guard and they took out our fence. We’re lucky that we made it out of there.”
“No shit, sir,” he snapped, sarcastically.
“What’s your name, Private?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the road.
“Fullbright, sir,” he replied.
“Alright, Fullbright,” I said. “Stop calling me sir. Call me Wylie, or Major Grant if you must. You can knock off the ‘sir’ shit.”
“What’s our next move, Major?” asked Leffingwell.
“Get the map out of my pack and see where the next river crossing is at,” I said, shrugging my pack onto the center console.
“On it,” she replied, reaching for my pack.
“Fullbright, how bad is he hurt?” I asked, jerking my thumb towards the other Private that was slumped over in the seat.
“He’s bleeding all over the fuckin’ place,” whined Fullbright. “Looks like a bullet or a chunk of shrapnel took a chunk outta his arm.”
“Is it a bite?” I snapped, glancing back into the seat.
“I can’t tell,” he replied. “I ain’t no medic. It looks pretty ragged to me.”
“Fuck,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Watch him close. If he starts to turn, we might have to put him down.”
“I went to Basic with Hernandez,” replied Fullbright. “I ain’t going to shoot him.”
“If he turns,” I replied, “it won’t be Hernandez anymore.”
Fullbright didn’t argue, but I could see the anger on his face. That was fine with me. At least he was alive to be pissed off. If Hernandez did turn, we weren’t going to have a choice in the matter. It would either be him or us. Fullbright could either accept that, or he’d be the first one to die. After all, he was sitting right next to him.
After a few moments of searching the map with a flashlight, she began shaking her head. I could see from the look on her face that she wasn’t happy about what she was looking at. We really needed some good news right now, but I had the distinct feeling that we weren’t going to get any. That would probably be too much to ask from the Gods. With everything that was going on, I’m sure that they had their plates full. One way or the other, we were on our own.
“We’re screwed, Major,” she said, turning to look at me. “The nearest crossing is at Washington, Missouri on Highway 47. After that, the next closest one is St. Louis. That is, unless you want to try to backtrack to Hermann.”
“What’s wrong with Washington?” I asked, glancing at the map as I drove.
“We dropped a Thumper there right after everything kicked off,” she said, frowning. “The Zoomies[17] bombed the shit out of it. I don’t know if the bridge is in good enough shape for us to try to cross it. Last time we flew over, it didn’t look so good.”
“We might have bigger problems, anyway,” I said, sighing.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“We don’t have enough gas to get us very far,” I explained. “I’d guess no more than fifty miles or so. We either find some diesel fuel or we’re walking.”
“Then I guess we’d better find some fuel,” she replied, grinning.
We drove in silence for about another half an hour. I kept my eyes on the road, but I tried to steal a glance back at Hernandez every so often just to be on the safe side. Fullbright had put a pressure bandage on the wound, so I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see any blood dripping from the bandage, though. That could be good or bad, depending on which way you looked at it.
I had been keeping my eyes peeled for anything we could scavenge some diesel fuel from, but I wasn’t even seeing many abandoned cars. We were in an area with a lot of nothing. The road was curvy with a lot of trees, so I couldn’t see a long distance ahead of us. It also meant that I had to keep a close eye on the road to avoid anything that might suddenly appear.
It was beginning to rain and from the lightning in the sky to the west; I had the feeling that it was going to be a big storm. Already, the raindrops were heavy and striking the windshield with considerable force. Within seconds, it went from heavy sprinkling to a downpour that made it difficult to see the road ahead. I immediately began decelerating to give myself some extra reaction time should something appear in the headlights.
“Hey, Hernandez is waking up,” said Fullbright, excitedly.
I started to glance back to check on him when a large lightning bolt split the sky and nearly blinded me. It had struck a tree not fifty yards ahead of us, sending sparks flying and pieces of the tree falling into the road. The massive report of the thunder was nearly deafening, but I heard Fullbright’s urgent voice behind me.
“What the fuck!” he screamed.
I turned my head quickly and saw Hernandez lunge across the seat, sinking his teeth into the side of Fullbright’s neck. Blood erupted from the wound and Fullbright’s scream became a strangled gurgling sound. I started to reach for my pistol when Fullbright shook and discharged his weapon. The report of the M-4 inside the close confines of the Humvee was massive. The muzzle flash ruined my night vision and I heard the high velocity projectiles striking surfaces inside the vehicle.
The three shot burst took out the dash instruments, the SINCGARS radio and gouged a hot path down my right cheek. Out of reflex, I tried to get out of the way and felt the Humvee begin to slide. Before I could grab the wheel and regain control, we were sideways in the road and hydroplaning wildly. I mashed the brake pedal to the floor and fought to keep us from crashing. Now, all of my attention was on regaining control.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bloody face of Hernandez appear and savagely bite into the neck of Sergeant Leffingwell. She screamed and I drove my elbow into Hernande-zombie’s face, knocking him back into the backseat. I could see blood all over the side of Leffingwell’s throat and face, but didn’t know if it was hers or from Fullbright.
Before I could do anything else, I felt the passenger side front tire dip into the ditch and the bumper bit into the soft earth of the embankment. Then I felt the sickening lurch in my stomach as the vehicle began to flip over in a flurry of groaning steel and crunching metal. Time slowed to a crawl as the Humvee began to flip over and over, rolling into the muddy field next to the road.
My world was spinning and I was fighting to overcome the disorientation that I felt. At some point, I had cut my scalp and blood was running down my face. It took me a moment to realize that we were lying on the roof of the Humvee and our gear was scattered everywhere. The windshield had been knocked out and I could see the muddy ground just inches from where I had come to rest.
Crawling out through the opening, I reached back and pulled Sergeant Leffingwell out with me. Her eyes were fluttering and I could see the ragged wound in her neck. It was seeping blood, so I knew that the carotid artery hadn’t been severed. That meant she wasn’t going to bleed out quickly, but she was going to turn into one of them and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
The Humvee was settling into the mud and one of the front tires was still spinning. Above the smell of damp earth and the rain, I could smell another acrid odor wafting through the night. It was the unmistakable scent of diesel fuel. If the fuel reached a hot piece of metal, the entire Humvee would go up in a ball of flames.
“How…bad,” stammered Leffingwell.
“It’s bad,” I replied, cradling her head in my lap.
As much as I wanted to reassure her, I didn’t want to lie. She deserved to know the truth.
“He…f…f…ucking bit me,” she said, sobbing softly.
“Yeah,” I said, gently stroking her hair and brushing the rain out of her eyes.
“I don’t…,” she said, beginning to cry.
“I know,” I replied. “
I’m so sorry.”
“Please,” she gasped. “Please don’t let me turn into one of those things.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said, feeling the tears begin to well in my own eyes.
“Please!” she pleaded. “I want to die as myself. Not one of them.”
I understood exactly how she felt. I had felt the same way when I thought I was going to turn. The strain of recovery had nearly killed me, despite my usual rapid healing. I didn’t turn because I was Einherjar. She was not. There was nothing I could do to prevent it. She was going to turn.
“Alright,” I whispered, softly. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” she said, sobbing.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered into her ear. “Where are you from?”
“St. Louis,” she replied, her lip trembling.
“Are you a baseball fan?” I asked, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I used to go to games with my dad, all the time.”
“Then close your eyes,” I began, softly.
Her eyes fluttered and closed. I noticed that her breathing was becoming more erratic and I could feel her skin was beginning to radiate heat, despite the cold pouring rain. The fever was coming and it wouldn’t be long before she turned. A bite in the neck like that let the poison go right into the brain.
“You’re at the game with your father,” I began, trying to visualize it myself. “It’s opening day and the stadium is filled to capacity. You’ve got great seats, right on the left field foul line.”
She shuddered and smiled at the thought. I could see her skin was growing mottled and turning a sickly shade of grey. The Reaper Virus was burning through her system with frightening speed.
“Who are we playing?” she asked, starting to shiver.
“Chicago,” I replied without hesitation.
“Go St. Louis!” she rasped, her lips beginning to turn blue and quiver.
Ragnarok Rising Page 19