“Dan, you need to see this.” Lance indicated a ruggedized tablet the Ranger was carrying. Dan paused and studied it. It was a pretty dark scene being shown, but he could make out the details of a suburban neighborhood with lights on and little vehicle traffic.
“The Div must have put some UAV’s up. We can’t control where it is looking but we can get their feed. They’ve been scouting ahead with at least one drone and this town is getting active. Every now and then they flick over to the thermal camera view and we can see a lot – and I mean a lot – of figures moving together.”
Dan couldn’t see any of this on the screen, but he could see the lights of a vehicle convoy. The drone must now be looking down on one of the convoys of soldiers as part of the clearing op – his or another unit in the advance, he couldn’t tell.
“There is a fair amount of what looks like shoving and barging between them, and from their posture, low to the ground and bent over, we reckon they are all the aggro ones. Small groups of them are also setting upon others that don’t respond with any violence back. It looks like if they flee, they’re doomed. Stand their ground, they get accepted and ignored. I haven’t studied animal behaviors before but it looks like one hell of a pack is forming.”
Dan looked around him. The dark suburbs seemed a whole lot more menacing.
“You need to know that loud noise such as gunfire seems to attract them, too. There is an increasing wave congregating in a move towards the units. Every time we see the flash of rifle fire the speed of their movement towards us seems to pick up a bit.”
Dan realized that a nightmare was coalescing around him. This wasn’t the most dangerous course of action his training was orientated for, this was the most horrifying course of action he could conceivably imagine. It might be that the aggro figures were simply attracted by the noise of the gunfire and the vehicles, and they were going to simply sit off and watch. Or it could be... it could be a whole lot worse, he realized.
He yanked open the door to the hummer.
“Get everyone to concentrate, right now,” he said to Fredericks. Most of the squad had just finished crossing a train-track and were continuing to wind their way through the suburbs. “Tell everyone to move to 2nd Squad’s location.” The second squad was central on Dan’s advance. They should, judging from his sketch map in front of him, be passing through a school ground which meant plenty of open ground.
“Make it fast, too. Tell the squads that there are aggros massing, so we’re closing ranks.”
No further incentive was needed. Second squad halted at the edge of the school’s athletic fields, with their vehicles backed into darkened, quiet school buildings. First and third squads were inbound. The Rangers pulled their vehicles up and started to clear the immediate classrooms.
The first Ranger fire-team disappeared into one of the classrooms nearby Dan and instantly opened up with sustained bursts. While most of the Rangers had silencers on their weapons, the gunfire he was hearing was loud and unsuppressed. The squad machine gunner must have opened up. Dan hadn’t heard that sort of firing in a while. Lance cursed and hit his mike switch, swearing into it. “Less noise, fuckers.” He growled. “You’re drawing them to us!”
The Ranger fire-team backed out of the room, shaking. One of the Rangers keeled over and retched, repeatedly, on hands and knees. The others simply stared at the room. Lance ran over and checked in on them.
After walking back to Dan, he said very quietly and tersely, “Don’t have any of your men go anywhere near the buildings. It’s worse than you could imagine inside. Kids and everything, smashed. If there are any evil fuckers inside those buildings, we’ll get them when they come out. We don’t go in there, not now. Its better leaving those rooms alone, for tonight at least.”
Dan grimaced. He didn’t want to imagine what had happened here today. If the sight inside was bad enough to turn one of the Ranger’s stomachs inside-out then he hated to think how bad it must be. The soldiers around him had seen the Ranger team’s response and were clearly nervous.
“Hit the centre of the fields, we’ll form a circle there,” Dan called out to his commanders. They understood. Better to move away from the horrors that were in those room and put themselves in an open field where they could use their weapons at range.
The humvees growled forward and faced out. His third squad turned up and put their vehicles, with some jockeying, into the platoon ring. The hummer’s headlights shone off into the field, illuminating some 100 meters around them. The athletics field’s lights were off, and Dan wished he knew how he could turn them on. While the vehicle headlights barely illuminated the perimeter he could already make out indistinct shadows circling and pacing around them.
“It’s bad, Sir!” Fredericks called out. As if on cue they heard the distant echo of sustained gunfire. It didn’t relent for twenty or so seconds. It sounded too far away to be 1rd squad, who were still moving to their position, so it had to be another, more distant unit engaging. There was more gunfire from another point a few kilometers away. Dan had opened the door to the hummer and could hear the panicked, garbled reports of men in combat. He could see Frederick’s expression from the rebounding glow of the headlights. He was grim, staunchly drawn in his face but very, very afraid. It sounded like some squads had gotten cut off and they had started to lose track of a few men in the darkness. The distant gunfire continued unabated, and the frequent clap of single rounds was punctuated by the occasional burst. Dan felt a surge of relief that he’d pulled everyone onto common ground they could defend. Strung out in the suburbs, being devoid of mutual support from other shooters while surrounded by a lurking, unknown enemy wasn’t working out for some of the squads further to the west.
The distant gunfire slackened off for half a minute, only to suddenly return with a vengeance. The deep, pulsating rattle, as muted as it was given the range, still let him know that someone was holding down the trigger of a M240 machine gun. 7.62mm firepower Dan thought. Someone is desperate, or afraid. Maybe both.
Alongside the echoing gunfire were increased calling of target indications from the squads around Dan. Five there... three over there... two moving there. Small groups, still, but that was only what they could see. Where was 1st Squad?
Gunfire sounded off to his left. Closer this time, only a hundred meters away. That must be his lot. Dan turned to Fredericks but he shook his head. He hadn’t got a contact report or any message over the radio. More gunfire, still single shots but closer together. He could see the distant headlights of the 1st Squad’s hummers as they closed in. They must be 400 meters away now... more gunfire. Repeated single shots and double taps. Everyone was on edge. Gunfire that close created a sense of imminence and anticipation. From behind the school buildings the headlights lurched into view, illuminating the halted vehicles in Dan’s harbor formation. The humvees of 1st Squad rolled in.
There was more jockeying between vehicles as they accommodated their last callsign into their circular harbor. Their perimeter was now 100, maybe 150 meters in diameter. The recently arrived squad commander, a dark-skinned, skinny man in his mid-thirties jogged into Dan. Dan’s vehicle was firmly in the centre of the formation to make it obvious where his command vehicle was. Dan couldn’t remember this squad leader’s background, but he knew he wasn’t infantry. He had done well, though, Dan reflected, to stay as collected and in control as he was, despite the situation being well outside his training. He gave his report, quickly. They had been moving around a golf course when the call to concentrate came. They turned through the course, bumped only a few aggros on the way in and crossed the railway lines. Coming up the other side, though, was where they hit a small congregation of bloodied, hunched hostiles. The figures scattered under the headlights but a few tried to lurch at the vehicles as they went past. Most of them were throwing stones, hard, against the windows.
Throwing things. That means they retain some residual instincts and abilities.
The gunners in the turrets ha
d panicked a little and didn’t respond to calls to hold their fire. Inside their vehicles they seemed safe so long as they kept moving, but the soldiers up top hadn’t acknowledged that and instead went through a few magazines between them. Ammo was becoming a concern for 1st Squad and for the platoon as a whole. The squad commander returned to his men and women and Dan found Lance standing next to him. The Ranger was still, his breathing steady. For a few seconds he remained quiet and then, when he spoke, he kept his voice down so only Dan could hear him.
“We’ve been watching the feed from the drone. The units to the west of us have halted. Some have turned around; others are holding their position.”
“What happened?”
“They’ve been mobbed and surrounded, like us. At least we’re giving the citizens of Colorado Springs a break for the most of it, because the majority of the bandits have flocked to the noise we’ve been making. They don’t seem too keen on rushing a group from afar, but in close we saw things been thrown. And don’t let the boys run. We saw some groups disintegrate and individual soldiers make a bolt for it... It isn’t worth it, there’s too many of them to avoid, and they’ve got an advantage in the dark. They’re light, fast, and not afraid.”
The creeping sense of doubt that they wouldn’t have enough ammo resurfaced in Dan’s mind. He called the squad leaders to him and insisted on tight control of rounds. Orders were given to keep their weapons tight, with the squad leaders only giving fire control orders when one of the figures was properly illuminated by the vehicle headlights. That should keep engagement ranges to 80 meters at most, and with single round engagements, maybe two to three rounds per target, they should preserve most of their ammunition. It was one thing explaining this behind idling vehicles, but the constant echo of gunfire from further to the west only seemed to undermine his instructions. Something over there was causing those units to unleash full automatic fire in large bursts – Dan hoped it was down to panic and the lack of tactics, not due to the threat.
After another ten minutes of target indications from the perimeter, the calling of contacts and sightings abated. There was no point; all around them, just out of sight, an unknown number of bandits massed. Dan checked his watch. Almost 2300. They had over six and a half hours of darkness to hold out for. There wasn’t any certainty that the daylight would help their position at all, but at least it would take away the sense of being under siege, in isolation and unable to see beyond their vehicle’s headlights.
***
It wasn’t very long before a few isolated figures, hunched low, started to creep forward towards their vehicles. The squads responded with single shots, bringing the figures to the ground in short order. One, in front of 2nd Squad, uttered a high pitched squeal after being hit and had to be silenced by another round. Whether it was the screaming or the obvious advantage the soldiers had over the open ground Dan didn’t know, but the figures held back from any further movement into the light. They might be primitively violent, but they weren’t suicidal.
Lance’s Rangers stayed inside the circle, a few monitoring the UAV feed. Lance couldn’t provide any further news or updates, so Dan started to walk around the perimeter and check on his soldiers. Fredericks had called in their position and intent, and it turned out that most of the 4th ID units to the West were now doing the same. Only one or two of the platoons out there had become isolated and forced to flee, and in the confusion of their withdrawal a handful of individuals and small teams were left behind. Perhaps the hysterical, panicked radio transmissions were mistaken but it sounded like a few of the soldiers left behind had become prey to the marauding creatures. The distant gunfire had slackened off and only an occasional shot could be heard in the distance.
Dan was standing with some of 3rd Squad when he picked up a new sound. The last civilian vehicle they had seen was back when it was still light – but now they could hear, unmistakably, the distant throb and whine of at least one vehicle, possibly more. Dan was pretty confident that they were the only military call-sign that had sallied forth on the Eastern side of Colorado Springs, which meant that the inbound vehicle – vehicles, from the sounds of things – were civilian.
“Car, 200!” One of the soldiers yelled out.
“No shit, Sherlock!” a gruff, authoritarian voice responded. “I can see that! Tell me what the fuck it actually is when you can see it, dumb-ass!” There was a pause for the next few seconds, as the soldiers waited for the vehicles to come closer. They were winding their way onto the far side of the athletic field. Dan’s group, with their vehicles arranged in an obvious circle, must have acted like a beacon for anyone who was searching for them. It was obvious that military was out here because of the gunfire; these guys must be running for us, thinking we are a safety net, Dan figured. Which isn’t exactly true, as Dan had no idea how safe they themselves were, at that moment.
“At least six vehicles, maybe more! I can see some four wheel drives and one van!”
As the vehicles swung onto the field and they turned towards Dan’s unit, their headlights illuminated a swarm of low, crouching figures as beastly silhouettes. They didn’t stand still in the light, but surged towards the slow-moving vehicles. Loud, echoing thumping and glass smashing carried clearly across the field.
“We’ve got hostiles are in their way! Rocks are being thrown!” Dan had trouble making out any further details as the lights of the incoming vehicles prevented him focusing on the activity, but he could see that the ghouls – ghouls seeming the beast term for them right now – weren’t going to be able to stop them. The vehicles accelerated once they had cleared the curb onto the field and were heading directly for them.
“Sir, what do you want us to do?”
Dan wasn’t sure who had asked the question, but that didn’t matter. He needed a plan. And fast.
“Hold them forward!” He called out, hoping his voice carried over the throb of the idling Hummers. “We’ll push forward and clear around the vehicles, drivers will push the perimeter out another 50 meters on 3rd squads side, so we can move them in central.”
It was a pretty poor plan all up, and Dan hadn’t given tasks to anyone. His military training had insisted on something, though, and that was the best he could come up with. A poor plan, if it was simple enough and properly executed, is all that is often needed. His plan was certainly simple. It seemed to be working, too, as the squad commanders started to take the initiative. Dan saw a few men glide past him – Rangers. Dan knew that they were perfectly suited to sweeping up to the cars with their night vision equipment, and since they seemed to be moving anyway, he thought he’d adjust him plan.
“Change to my last, squad commanders keep your men on the perimeter. We’ll let the Rangers clear around the convoy.”
The Rangers had their Night Vision Goggles, or NVGs, lowered and a warm green glow that could just be seen around their eyes up close. Dan realized they must be using the latest generation night vision that would auto-adjust between the vehicle lights and the dark night, otherwise they would get blinded looking from one to the other. Putting night vision on gave them the advantage that they could use their weapon aiming lasers, visible through night vision, to see their point of aim. Move the weapon’s beam onto a target and you can be 90% certain you’ll hit it, assuming you had zeroed it all together. It was fast and efficient, and when used in a well trained squad everyone could see where everyone else was aiming. Less confusion, more lethality. These Rangers could own the night, Dan thought. They were currently his best hope for keeping control of the situation.
While the Rangers swept forward the Humvees crawled forward to their new positions. The Rangers with suppressed M4’s led their fire-teams forward. The machine-gunner had slung his gun over his back and had drawn his pistol – which was longer than normal, due to it also having a suppressor attached. Lance must have ordered silenced weapons only.
As the first of the Rangers moved in-line with the first vehicle Dan heard the quiet pop of a suppressed w
eapon firing. A crack followed an instant later, and then there were more, muted reports of their suppressed weapons opening up.
While it was common to call weapon suppressors ‘silencers’, they didn’t completely silence the weapon. A properly silenced weapon needed to be designed specifically to mute all sound and it had to fire subsonic ammunition to avoid the supersonic ‘crack’ that would otherwise give away every shot. Dan could hear the working parts of the carbines mechanically sliding back while re-chambering rounds, and the constant crack for each round gave away that the Rangers were using their normal, supersonic rounds. Instead of sounding like a 5.56mm assault rifle going off it instead sounded like two pieces of wood getting smacked together. It was still noisy, but nowhere near as bad as an unsuppressed gunshot. And, right now, the less noise they made the better.
One of the soldiers ahead of Dan directed the first civilian vehicle into their harbor position. It edged in slowly before stopping near the command hummer. The car, an old and battered station wagon, was packed with a family and the boot was full of hastily packed household equipment. The next vehicle in, the van, stopped and the door slid open. It was full of teenagers. On the side of the van was an emblem – a school sports team, it looked like. One of the soldiers waved them back into their vehicle. The last thing they wanted was the harbor becoming a rodeo of panicking families and high school lacrosse players. Everyone obliged the soldiers, but van’s sliding door was left open. Dan could hear sobbing coming from inside it. He tried to shut out their distress and focus on the situation at hand.
Four vehicles were now in, and it looked like the Rangers were pulling back with the last car. It wasn’t until the headlights of the fifth vehicles swung away from him – at least dim those lights, for Christ-sake he thought – that he took a deep breath.
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