by S. Ganley
The temptation proved too much for Tristan and he proceeded to bypass the alarm systems, although he didn't realize that this would also take down the air sensors in the room as and the adjoining corridor as well as the cameras dedicated to monitoring both areas. Once the alarms were dealt with, Tristan dialed in the correct code to release the pressure in the room and waited until he saw the lights on the door panel switch to all green indicating that the door locks could now be released. In another five minutes he was comfortably seated at the technicians station and entering his network password to turn on the computer system. When the computer booted up he was pleasantly surprised to see that inside the network folder available to him and the other security teams a new folder had recently been added. The properties for the folder showed him that his first line supervisor back in Atlanta had added this folder the night before along with a text file note that said 'I know it can be boring work out there, so here is something to keep you entertained in your down time'. Tristan opened the folder and saw it full of first run movies pirated and downloaded from one of those Russian file sharing programs he knew his supervisor liked to visit. One of the movies in the folder just happened to be a recent release of a comedy he had been looking forward to watching. For the first fifteen minutes of the movie he did a good job of looking back and forth from the computer into the room next door at the two still forms he had been charged with keeping his eyes on. The movie rolled on into a particularly funny scene and Tristan soon lost himself in the film and gave up any pretense of looking back and forth at the bodies in the next room.
Chapter 10
"Sir?" The ranking sergeant manning the checkpoint exclaimed as he gestured towards a crowd of close to fifty civilians rapidly approaching their position from inside the quarantine zone.
Cpt. Cochran had just stepped out of from the back of the command Humvee set up with a small office crammed full of communication gear and the computer equipment necessary to control and monitor their drone mission. He had finished feeding the drone the instructions to continue with the rest of its mission in autopilot mode, it would now approach Browns Mills, begin taking air samples at different altitudes and then stream the results of its analysis back to the computers here and those at the CDC and crisis center. After the sample taking portion of its mission was complete it would then lock into an orbit of two hundred feet and commence to fly a series of geometric patterns over the town while streaming live video out to all monitoring stations. If the drone did not receive new orders after being on station for three hours it had been instructed to retrace its flight path back to its take off point and land automatically. Cpt. Cochran had programmed those last set of orders after he learned from the crisis center that no new orders from his command authority concerning use of force against the refuges would be forthcoming. His own attempts to contact his battalion commander for clarification of his orders had met with a terse response that his unit had been attached to the crisis center for this mission. Any orders related to use of force or otherwise concerning how to carry out their mission would come directly from the pentagon. They were being left on their own and it seemed that no one in his chain of command was willing to stick their neck out to give any orders that could result in injuries to civilians. This left it completely up to him on how to handle this situation. Dr. Woods’ warning of how dangerous these refuges may end up being echoed ominously in his head, he had even used the term zombies in describing their demeanor and methods. While Cpt. Cochran was not quite ready to subscribe to the notion that they were actually about to face a horde of brain eating zombies like the monsters he had seen in the movies, he also didn't want to totally discount Dr. Woods’ warning. He had seen for himself the overhead images of these people and how the thermal scans did not pick up any more than a small trace of body heat from them. He was also well aware of the fact that they were facing an unusual and as yet unidentified viral threat, the long term effects of which had still not been scientifically discovered. He was reluctant to order his men to just open fire on these people, even if command had issued orders to allow deadly force he was sure the caveat to that would be that some form of equal threat to his own men had to exist in order to justify that level of force. His decision would be that they would keep all of their options open, the civilians would be allowed to approach the checkpoint and once they were within verbal range he would have his men issue orders for them to stop and turn back. If they continued on despite these orders and did not attempt to harm his people he would have little choice but to allow them to pass and just notify Dr. Woods and his own higher command of the situation. The drone could always be recalled and ordered to track them until someone finally made a decision on how to handle it. On the other hand, if they did turn violent against his men, he was not going to let them just stand there and take it, he had given orders that in that situation they were to defend themselves but only with force equal to what the civilians were using. This meant that a punch or slap to one of his soldiers did not justify his Bradley's opening fire on the crowd.
Standing at the checkpoint and watching this crowd of people approaching through a pair of high powered binoculars, Cpt. Cochran was now starting to have second thoughts about his decision to have his men hold their fire. He picked out one of the civilians in particular and studied the man closely. He appeared to be in his forties and in fair physical shape, he was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a pullover collared shirt, his clothing was disheveled and dirty looking with a dark stain down the front of the shirt that he thought may have been dried blood or possibly vomit. He could see a smudge leading from the man's bottom lips down his chin and along the side of his neck where some type of fluid may have leaked from his mouth. It was unnerving that the man made no effort to at least wipe away the remnants of whatever had left those marks down his chin. The face had a hollow look as if he was confused or medicated in some fashion, while he could not see the eyes very clearly at this distance he could tell that they looked wrong, as if there was something very different about them. A quick scan across the crowd and he realized that all of the others shared this same faraway and odd look about their eyes. The skin pallor on the man was something else that made him a little queasy inside, even allowing for a Caucasian with a naturally light skin color, this man's color was much different just from that of someone who did not spend a lot of time in the sun. The color had a yellowish hue to it that made the man resemble a wax figurine much more than a living person. It was the same pallor that he had seen before in a dead body before the mortician had his chance to apply makeup and bring back the more natural skin tone for the deceased to be displayed in an open coffin prior to a viewing at a wake. Cpt. Cochran thought that these people certainly at least looked like they were sick, he could even go so far as to agreeing with Dr. Woods in principle that it was not a far stretch to say that they even looked very much like a group of walking dead bodies.
"I see them Sergeant, just stay calm and stand your ground as we discussed, it is important that the men see us remaining unflustered right now." Cpt. Cochran replied. He thought to himself as he watched the approaching crowd that remaining unflustered sounded good in theory but in the next few moments when they were face to face with these people he hoped that he wouldn't fold and run.
All of his men were out on the checkpoint now, they had been taking shifts to give half of their numbers time to relax in the shade for a couple hours at a time. No one was off relaxing in the shade at the moment, with the exception of two crew members per Bradley and a single air force technician manning the controls inside the command Humvee, everyone was in full uniform, including helmet and rifle and standing tall just behind the row of flimsy wooden stands and tangled concertina wire. Everyone was carrying live ammunition and their weapons were all loaded but on safe and slung over shoulders to avoid the appearance of open hostility.
The first group of refuges that would reach the checkpoint was now less than a hundred yards away. They could h
ear them now, a collective and rhythmic moaning sound rising from the group as if they were incapable of speech and all they could do to communicate with each other was to release this primitive and guttural noise. The sound grew in intensity as they closed the gap on the waiting soldiers, it started to sound like it was taking on an excited tenor as if the proximity of the men standing watch just a little ways in front of them was stimulating them. Up until this point the group had been moving forward at a steady and quick shuffle, now that the men along the checkpoint were within sight of them they picked up their speed to something closer to a medium paced jog and the moaning increased in tempo. With every dozen or so steps that they drew closer they sped up a little more.
"SIR?" the questioning and concerned cry came from one of his lower ranking men and Cpt. Cochran sensed several troops starting to slide back away from the barrier a little bit as if on the verge of making the decision to turn and run for the hills.
"Hold your ground men, do not show fear and do not back away from the barriers." He hissed in reply.
Cpt. Cochran turned towards his senior sergeant and gestured for him to begin issuing verbal commands to the crowd. The man had a natural booming voice that commanded the attention of anyone within earshot and under normal conditions should be more than enough to sway any civilian confronted with it that they meant business.
Bellowing the command for the refuges to halt and not approach the checkpoint any closer, the sergeant clearly and methodically gave his instructions. The verbal commands were loud and concise but they may as well have been given to a brick wall for as much good as they did. The only impact Cpt. Cochran could see from his sergeants orders was that a few of the refuges in the front rank shifted their direction slightly and lined up directly on the sergeant as if the sound of his voice was a beacon designed to focus their attention on him.
They were running now, their feet slapping loudly against the pavement, the distance now down to sixty yards and closing fast. Seeing them up close and their lack of any reaction to verbal commands now made Cpt. Cochran reconsider his misgivings about using force to stop their advance. He could also see their faces much more clearly now, each of them had a milky haze filling their eyes as if they were wearing dull white filters over each eye. Some of them had visible wounds and injuries to their exposed skin with splashes of blood and other body fluids covering skin and clothing. They all also shared another unique feature that he hadn't noticed until they were this close, their mouths were all turned upward in a vicious snarl like an attack dog baring its teeth as it lunged forward to strike its intended target. Those snarls lent even more credibility to Dr. Woods’s warnings that these people were dangerous and would stop at nothing to get their hands and mouths on him and his men.
Armed with only a pistol, Cpt. Cochran now drew the automatic from the holster at his side and worked the slide to chamber a round. It was a spur of the moment decision made only after he saw face to face the actual threat that they were really dealing with. Dr. Woods had been correct all along and he had been a fool to put his career over his own personal safety and that of his men. He pointed the pistol at the ground a few feet in front of the closest refuge and fired twice into the asphalt. Several men down the line from him jumped and backed up several feet in response to the sudden and unexpected report of gunfire, their attention had been so steadfastly focused on the approaching mob they had not noticed their commander making ready to open fire. The mass of sickly looking snarled mouthed people rushing headlong towards them did not respond in the least to the gun fire, if anything, Cpt. Cochran thought they had actually sped up. He was suddenly awestruck by their speed, looking as sickly and ragged as they did and considering the several miles they had already covered on foot he would not have thought them capable of suddenly breaking into a dead on sprint like they were, and before he knew it they had cut the distance to barely twenty five feet and the entire front rank had spread itself open as individuals started focusing their attention directly on specific soldiers on his side of the barricade. He adjusted his aim to center mass of the man closest to him and without further hesitation fired off a double tap into the man’s chest. He had no doubt his aim would be true, the distance was too close to miss and his marksmanship with a pistol was unmatched in any unit he had ever served in. A pair of ragged holes materialized in the chest of the man providing him evidence of his accuracy, but that was the only thing that happened in response. The man did not waiver, did not slow nor did he show any outward indication of having just absorbed two steel jacketed 9mm rounds through his heart and possibly a lung. There was also a noticeably absence of blood coming from either wound. Those hits should have bled profusely and also sent the man tumbling face first onto the ground at his next step where he would have been dead a good two or three seconds before his body struck the pavement. He could feel a sudden panic building up inside of him, even though he had told himself that he would not allow them to resort to the use of firearms to quell this disturbance the fact that they had that as a last ditch alternative always gave him a sense security. Now that he was seeing the impossible reality that even firearms were not having an effect on these people that deep down sense of security was crashing into a sea of utter fear and oncoming panic. Gripping the pistol tightly with both hands and concentrating to keep his hands from shaking any worse than they already were, he loosed another salvo of four rounds directly into the chest of the same man now down to fifteen feet away from him and closing fast. Even with six holes stitched across his chest, his advance didn't slow for a second, he didn't even flinch as the rounds ripped through him.
Cpt. Cochran started back pedaling as he moved to distance himself from this admonition racing towards him. There was no rational explanation how that man could have absorbed six rounds directly to his chest, including vital organs, and still be on his feet. They had reached the flimsy wooden barriers and concertina wire now and were pushing the obstacles aside as they rushed onward towards the ranks of soldiers just beyond.
"FIRE, OPEN FIRE!" Cpt. Cochran yelled to his men in a last act of defiance that would hopefully spark a more effective response than his own attempts. He turned to yell the order to fire to the two armored Bradley fighting vehicles parked just off the roadway nearby by but the order did not have a chance to escape his lips before he was knocked to the ground by two of the first refuges to make their way past the barricades. Their strength caught him off guard and even though he was in prime physical condition he was completely outmatched by his two opponents. The best he could do was to keep throwing his arm around in front of his face to prevent the man he had already pumped six rounds into from clamping his snarling teeth down on his face or throat. It was like he was fending off an attack from a rabid dog intent on biting down for a kill shot, but in this case he had the horrifying notion that they were more interested in the taste of his flesh and muscle, they wanted to eat and not necessary kill. Any hope he had for assistance from any of his men was shattered as he listened to shouts of fear, pain and sheer terror as the rest of his men were overrun and brutally attacked as the bulk of this first group of deranged and sick people pounced on them. A few scattered gunshots rang out but not enough to make much difference and the sounds of gunfire lasted only a moment before more of his men could be heard crying out as they fell. Realizing that help would not be coming, the panic returned and gave him an extra boost of adrenaline, mustering all his available strength he pushed his attacker with six bullet holes drilled through his chest off to the side. With his attention focused on this single attacker he lost track of the second man who had tackled him, a mistake he realized when a shot of white hot pain rocketed threw his thigh. Launching a solid punch that caught the second attacker hard in his temple, Cpt. Cochran was sickened when his punch brought the man’s face into view as it pulled free of the inside of his thigh. The man had managed to use his teeth to rip a hole through the saggy layer of pants in that area of his body and expose the bare skin underneath, h
anging from the side of his mouth was a long, wide flap of thick hair covered meat glistening with a sheen of warm and wet blood. Making the scene even more morbid was that the entire flap was still attached to the underside of his crotch. Recovering from the punch, the man started whipping his head from side to side in an attempt to rip the morsel free. Cpt. Cochran was overcome with agony as each turn of the man’s head caused the wound to tear open further into his crotch. His reflexes snapped into autopilot and the arm he had raised against a resumed attack from the bullet riddled man dropped to his ruined thigh and pressed hard against the growing wound in an attempt to keep the man from ripping free any more of the tender meat between his legs. With his attention now focused on the attack on the lower part of his body he missed the open mouth of his fist attacker as it shot forward and latched hard onto the side of his neck. In a fraction of a second a quarter of his neck was ripped free, releasing a river of blood and sent him spiraling into a hazy fog of unconsciousness at the sudden catastrophic loss of blood to his brain. His strength bled from his body as fast as his blood and he collapsed backward onto the ground while his two attackers pressed forward with their brutalization of his now defenseless body. His last conscious vision was a view of one the younger soldiers in his unit laying on the ground several feet away, his head was cocked to the side and his eyes wide open, just before the blackness consumed him Cpt. Cochran realized that the head of this soldier had been separated from the rest of his body which was a foot or two behind the head with three people angled over top of it with their heads pressed deep into the open torso and feasting on the rich bloody internal organs.