A Glimpse Of Decay (Book 1): Red Storm)

by Santiago, A. J.

  “Yeah, we need to hurry,” the crew chief agreed. “They’re closing down the airspace to all civilian flights. We’ve only got twenty minutes to get out of the no-fly zone, so we don’t have time to hang around here. But before we do anything else, I need everyone to get onboard first before you load up that thing. If anything happens, I want that woman right next to the ramp so we can throw her ass out.”

  “Okay, okay,” Massimov said in a resigned tone. He turned to the group, yelling over the rotors, “Let’s get going, people!” The doctor then ran up into the chopper without looking back at the others. He wasn’t waiting around any longer as he sought safety inside of the aircraft.

  Roberts tapped Michael on his shoulder. “Let’s see if we can get up close to the pilots so we don’t have to be too close to that thing.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Michael answered. The three of them rushed onto the helicopter and they were followed by the rest of the group.

  The guards pushed the gurney up the ramp as the crew chief hurriedly raised it. Once inside, the gurney was dropped down and it was secured to the deck and to the walls. The woman snapped at the guards as they nervously eyed her. After getting the final okay from the crew chief, the chopper lifted off and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. As the craft gained altitude, Michael peered out of one of the portals and was shocked at what he saw in the darkness down below.

  Most of the northern part of the city was ablaze and the roads leading south and east were choked with the headlights of hundreds of fleeing vehicles. Roberts leaned next to Michael and also looked out of the small window. “Looks like the populace is trying to run,” Roberts said, moving forward to get a better view.

  “Looks like it.” Michael tried to envision the terror and fear that all those poor people were probably feeling. He closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought.

  “Did you notice the roadblocks?” Roberts asked, motioning to his right with his head.

  Michael opened his yes, readjusted his position and looked down at the illuminated veins of traffic. Roberts was right. Each visible highway was choked with the bright lights of the fleeing vehicles, but each of the illuminated streams all came to an abrupt stop, as if they had run into invisible barriers. “God, they’re actually keeping the people from trying to escape?”

  Irene heard Michael and she leaned back on the bench, drawing her arms up into her chest. She was feeling scared and vulnerable. She wished that she could call her parents. She really wanted to hear their voices. More than that, though, she wished that she was back at home, away from this hell that was threatening to overwhelm them all. Closing her eyes she tried to shut out the shrieks from the reanimated woman.

  After ensuring that the gurney was properly secured, the crew chief made his way up to Massimov. He retracted his visor back up into his helmet and he angled the boom mic away from his mouth. “What is the latest you’ve heard?”

  “We haven’t heard much. We were up in the hospital trying to observe several infected hosts when this lady came in,” Massimov said, pointing back to the gurney. “It all happened so fast. One minute we’re trying to deal with one subject, and the next minute, the city is falling apart.”

  Roberts craned his neck as he tried to listen in on the conversation between Massimov and the crew chief, but the two were speaking in Russian. Damn you, speak English! Roberts thought to himself.

  “It’s spreading like a wildfire,” the crew chief said. The soft red light illuminating the cabin interior casted an eerie shadow over his face. He curled his top lip under his teeth and stared down at the deck. “Things are getting bad out there. Rudnny is lost and there are reports of an outbreak in Zhailma.”

  “Good God,” gasped Massimov.

  “Also, the Army was forced to fire upon a Russian train carrying almost a thousand refugees from Kurgan. It derailed just outside of Petropavl. It was bad. Real bad.”

  “The train made it that far in?”

  “Yes, the conductor refused all orders to stop, and by the time the President authorized the Army to halt the train, it was already that far into the country. We transported a combat team to Petropavl right after the train was stopped. One of the Militsiya on the ground there told me that the train had some infected people on it and the Army was trying to cordon off the crash site. They’re even talking about making preparations for evacuating Astana.”

  Massimov covered his eyes with his palms, slowly drawing his fingers down over his mouth. Roberts saw the doctor’s reaction. “What’s going on?” the major asked in a concerned tone.

  Massimov took a deep breath, turning to face Roberts. “I think I should be asking you that question. Just what is going on here, Major Roberts?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Deep down inside, the major knew that Massimov had every right to pose that question. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the doctor and the others began to look at him with suspicion, but he also knew that he had to keep up his ‘I’m just here to help’ story until he was able to get a better idea of what was going on.

  “I can understand why your civilian colleagues are here, but why does your country send a military representative along with them?”

  “I explained this earlier to Doctor Mamani.” A hint of annoyance could be heard in Robert’s voice. “I work with infectious diseases...just so happens that I work for the Army. We have more resources than most of our civilian agencies do. If we can figure out what’s going on here, maybe we can use those resources to battle this threat. Believe me, this isn’t about nationalism or exploitation.”

  Michael bit his lip and struggled not to speak his mind. He wanted to blurt out what he knew, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure what the Kazakhs would do if they figured out Roberts’s true intentions. Hell, who knew, maybe they would just throw all three of them out of the helicopter? He decided that it was best to keep his mouth shut…at least while they were still up in the air.

  “I think the only reason you’re here is to find out what the Russians are up to,” Massimov said, resentment building in his voice. “We all know that this whole calamity originated in Ozersk, and we all know that Ozersk is one big cesspool of nuclear and chemical weapons. My best guess is that something happened over there and something was accidentally released. And now your government wants to find out what little secret the Russians were working on. That’s what I think. I’m sorry Major, but you can’t convince me otherwise. I know that we briefly spoke about it back in the lab, but from the very beginning, I’ve had my suspicions about you.”

  “Doctor Massimov, let’s be realistic for a minute,” Roberts said as he gestured with his right hand, “we’re here to try and organize a combined response to this. The quicker we can get a hold on what’s going on, the quicker we can calm everyone down. If we can do that, we won’t have to worry about closed borders and mobilized armies, we won’t have to worry about failing economies, possible wide-spread panic and military confrontation. Unless we work together, we run the chance of losing control. Also, once the rest of the world sees what we’re doing over here, the better the chances are that they will get onboard with us in this fight.”

  “Well, Major, I’m just not sure our responses are built around the same intentions,” Massimov said in a lowered voice. He refrained from saying anything else and chose to remain quiet, nervously rubbing his hands together as he mentally replayed the conversation he had just had with the crew chief earlier.

  As the copter flew through the night sky, all conversation dropped off and the only thing that could be heard was the rhythmic thumpa thumpa of the rotor. Amazingly, even the infected woman rode in silence. Everyone was quietly reflecting on their own situations as they pondered their personal responses to the disaster that was unfolding before them. Even the usually confident Roberts was feeling a twinge of uncertainty and he could feel his hairs standing up on the back of his neck. A feeling of impending doom was weighing heavily on him and he couldn’t shake i
t. He liked to consider himself savvy, always in the know and never in the dark, and he always saw himself as being one step ahead of everyone else when it came to situations like this, but not even in his wildest dreams would he have guessed at the Russian response that was looming in the dark sky just outside of Ozersk.

  ***

  Russian Bomber Approaching Ozersk

  The lumbering bomber roared through the night sky as it made its approach towards its target. Its silver body gleamed in the moonlight as it climbed above gray and ashen clouds. The giant turbo props gave the craft an antiquated appearance, making it look like some ghost from the past that had flown into the present.

  The crew traveled in silence, only uttering the required verbalization needed to pilot the giant bomber through the frigid air. They knew what they were about to do, and the horrible reality of it numbed them. Fighting against doubt and uncertainty, each crew member attempted to focus on his own task as they tried to purge their minds of any distractions. As the weapons officer prepared to release his deadly payload, he whispered a prayer to himself and he quickly made the sign of the cross over his chest. In the next instant, a sleek white missile was darting away from the bomber, the tail of the weapon glowing bright hot white as it streaked through the dark sky. With the missile gone, the rumbling behemoth pulled away, its engines roaring in protest as it made a violent turn towards its base.

  The pilot choked back a sob as tears ran down his cheeks.

  ***

  Just south of the Kyshtym Military Complex

  Captain Kozlov’s tank sped north along the empty highway. He balanced himself in his hatch as he hung onto the antiaircraft gun. An APC followed closely behind. It was the only other vehicle from his company that had survived the massacre at the Mirnyy. The numb captain swayed back and forth as he tried to clear his mind of what they had just experienced.

  ***

  Although Kozlov’s column had been able to reach the aid station at Mirnyy, they had gotten there too late. The soldiers were horrified to find that the station had been overrun by the infected. Many of the aid tents were engulfed in flames and when the surviving civilians saw Kozlov’s vehicles approaching the station, they ran towards them in an attempt to seek some kind of protection from the rampaging horde of infected and reanimated that were close on their heels.

  Like a raging river rushing over rocks, the attacking mob swarmed over the tanks and armored troop transports. Some of the APCs were quickly overtaken as the infected—soldiers and civilians alike—pulled frightened and screaming troops from the opened hatches. Quickly flooding into the troop compartments via the exposed hatches, the helpless and wounded civilians inside were quickly killed, only to reanimate later on.

  Seeing this, several tanks had actually turned their main guns on those APCs, obliterating them and their attackers. In all of the confusion, the infected quickly mixed in with the fleeing civilians, savagely attacking them. Some of the bewildered troops had no choice but to fire indiscriminately into the crowd, their fear taking control of their reasoning and their emotions. At the time they didn’t realize that they were only creating more and more reanimated and revived corpses.

  During the chaotic madness, Kuzma looked up from his seat to Kozlov and yelled, “Sir, what are we going to do? We’ve just fired on fellow comrades!”

  Kozlov took a minute to regain his composure. He was trying to gather his thoughts as the battle raged around him. The screams and the chatter of the guns were enough to drive a man insane, but he had to keep his composure if he was going to make it out of this living hell.

  “We’re heading back to Kyshtym, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Captain, I don’t mean to be contradictive,” Kuzma said, “but Kyshtym is off the air. There is a good chance it’s been knocked out.”

  “I know that, but Kyshtym is the closest place where we can refuel and rearm. I’m sure there’s no one left guarding the supplies, so we’ll probably have to fight our way in, take what we need, and then haul ass north…maybe towards Moscow. I’m positive we will run across one of the other regiments coming down this way.”

  Kuzma and Radimir exchanged nervous glances in the dim light of the tank. Radimir then looked at his rifle and realized that he only had a couple of magazines of ammunition left. He looked up at his commander and said, “Sir, please allow me to grab some rifle ammunition from one of the stricken A.P.C.s. We’ve used up most of our magazines and we’re down to our side arms. Look, I can see Yuri’s A.P.C. is deserted. I’m sure there is ammo in there.” He pointed to a motionless APC not more than fifty feet from them.

  Knowing that Radimir was right, he said, “Ok, we’ll pull up alongside Yuri’s. You get in there and see what you can find.”

  “Yes sir,” Radimir replied as he checked his pistol.

  Kozlov’s tank rumbled up next to the APC. As Kozlov manned the machine gun, the gunner crawled out of the turret, jumped down to the engine deck and hopped over to the APC. He peered into the darkness through an open hatch for a brief moment and then raised his head to look back at his captain. “Looks good so far,” he said, grinning. As he looked back at Kozlov, he didn’t see the bloody pair of hands that reached out from the hatch.

  The hands quickly clamped down onto the gunner’s collar, yanking him down towards the hatch. A second set of hands reached out of the hatch and began to claw and scratch Radimir. The young man screamed as he fought to tear away from the hands that were attacking him. He drew his pistol and began to fire wildly into the hatch.

  “Radimir!” Kozlov screamed. He was about to leap from out of the turret in an attempt to help his man, but he knew that the gunner was as good as dead. A blood smeared head had emerged from the APC’s hatch—a long-haired woman with her left eye torn from out of its socket. She pulled Radimir’s face down towards hers’, sinking her teeth into his neck. Radimir, kneeling down on top of the APC, fought to keep from being pulled down into the hatch. The blood from his wound was pouring out over the deck of the personnel carrier.

  Kozlov yelled down for Kuzma to pull away. At first, Kozlov’s orders fell upon deaf ears. There was no way Kuzma was going to leave Radimir behind, but a swift kick to the back of his shoulder quickly made the driver realize that he had no choice. “We can’t do anything for him, so go!” the captain yelled.

  The tank lurched forward and as it pulled away, Kozlov spun the turret mounted machine gun around and let loose a burst at Radimir and his attacker. In a splash of sparks and blood, Radimir’s body was blown into several pieces. The lower portion of his right leg was left grotesquely standing upright on top of the carrier.

  ***

  Kozlov realized that he had drifted off with his thoughts and he knew that he needed to focus on what was happening right now. The past was the past and there was nothing he could do about it now. Standing in his hatch, he turned and used his night vision to look at the following APC. As he was about to relay an order to Kuzma, he heard a loud roar in the dark sky above. The emotionally battered captain looked up and saw a blinding explosion that turned the dark heavens into a bright flash of white. He immediately knew what it was. It was an airburst.

  Under normal circumstances, all electronically operated devices, including vehicles, would have stopped working due to the electromagnetic pulse created by the burst, but the military vehicles had been outfitted with circuitry which protected them from such an occurrence. It really didn’t make a difference though. Kozlov knew that in the next instant, he and his driver would be baked alive inside of their vehicle as soon as the nuclear warhead detonated.

  “Fucking bastards!” Kozlov yelled up at the glowing explosion. “You created this, and now you’re going to kill everyone to cover it up!”

  Kozlov ignited like a match as the air around him turned to fire. His tank and the trailing APC were sucked up into the roiling mushroom cloud that was now reaching up into the heavens.

  ***

  Helicopter Approaching Astana Intern
ational Airport

  “What did you just say!” shouted the helicopter crew chief into his mic boom. “They did what?” The surprise in his voice caught the attention of all who could hear him over the beat of the rotors.

  Massimov could hear the crew chief’s exclamation and he made his way over to his station. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  The crew chief flipped up the boom and said, “You’re not going to believe this, but the pilot just received word that the Russians have used a nuclear weapon on Ozersk.”

  “Oh my God!” Massimov gasped. “You can’t be serious!”

  “I am dead serious.” The crew chief placed his hand to the side of his helmet and said, “Hold on, the pilot is telling me something else.”

  Roberts and the others could see the animated conversation taking place between Massimov and the crew chief. “Looks like something is up,” Roberts said to Irene.

  “Yeah, it does.” She turned her neck to look out of one of the portals and she could see the lights from the airport. There was a distinctive blue dome in the center of the terminal, and it was brightly lit up.

  Roberts stood and walked over to Massimov. “What’s going on?” he asked the doctor as he tried to balance himself.

  Massimov looked back at Roberts and scowled at him. “The Russians used a nuclear bomb on Ozersk.”

  “Holy shit!” Roberts exclaimed. “When?”

  “Just a little while ago.”

  The crew chief leaned over to Massimov and said, “There is an American transport waiting for your guests.” He gestured towards Roberts and the others. “We’ve been ordered to transfer the woman over to them, and then they are going to take her somewhere else.” The crew chief was intentionally speaking Russian.

  Responding in Russian, Massimov asked, “On whose authority are we to release the subject to the Americans?”

  “Our president’s,” the crew chief said. “The pilot just received a transmission telling him that an agreement between our country and the United States has been reached and they are going to take the lead in the investigation on The Ozersk Syndrome. Astana is set to be evacuated and there won’t be any facilities left to handle any kind of long term research effort.”