Land of the Dead (Book 1): The Infected

by Cian Campbell

  The whole city was smoking or burning, especially to the north towards downtown. Nothing seemed to stir. In the few areas where the Ring Road Highway touched the city proper it was elevated a hundred feet in the air over neighborhoods that had stood for a thousand years. Those areas were, as best as Dillon could see through the lights of buildings on fire, swarming with infected.

  It made sense, actually, though the stark horror of it had never truly sunk in. Cairo was a city of fifteen million people. Maadi had been different, an affluent suburb of gated apartment complexes and large villas. Most of the population there had the vehicles to run or the walls to hide behind. In Cairo, it had obviously been very different. Burning barricades were everywhere, almost as prevalent as the infected. It seemed that the locals were lighting the barricades on fire if they were in danger of being overrun. While that may have fixed the problem temporarily, many of the barricades burned out and were compromised. Still more started building fires that spread through the close alleys of the city quickly. It was tragic, but Dillon didn’t have time to process it all.

  “Mikey, come away from the window.”

  Hannah had seen horror, but not like this. Her first instinct, God bless her, was to shelter Mikey from it. Marla was crying, and Doc was transfixed. Dillon was very glad that the highway ran a hundred feet above street level. He noticed that the Lauren had slowed almost to a stop.

  “Lauren, you need to keep going. Not too fast, not too slow, just like I showed you. No sudden gas or break. We want to keep the engines at a quiet hum, okay?”

  “Okay.” Lauren said, slowly increasing speed to around 15 miles per hour.

  “Good that’s perfect. Keep going straight. Remember, the closest on or off ramp is almost two miles from here, outside the city proper. And we just keep going on this road for another half hour and we’ll be there. You’re doing great.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not, Lauren. You’re driving by firelight and leading a convoy full of survivors through the apocalypse so I can keep my head on a swivel and keep radio traffic going. I think you’re doing great.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Dillon felt Hannah’s hand squeeze his shoulder and turned to give her a weak smile. Then, he turned his mind back to the task at hand.

  “Convoy, this is LEAD, check in.”

  “ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. REAR.”

  Dillon had the convoy check in every minute or so until they were out of the area and into the eastern desert, just to help everyone keep their mind off of what they were seeing. He knew that he would never forget it.

  If the view from the highway was horrific, the airport was hell itself. Evidently, the military was still trying to hold out here, though Dillon doubted they would do so for long. The fences were down, and burnt cars had been hastily plowed to the side of the road to form a barrier. It looked like the Egyptian army had used cars and concrete barriers to create funnels and were drawing the infected towards them and into large areas where they could be murdered quickly and efficiently by crossfire. It looked like it had worked for a time, but the infected had obviously either climbed the barriers or simply climbed the piles of dead. Now, there were a few pockets of resistance remaining. The east concourse seemed hard pressed by the infected but was still shooting. The air traffic control tower also seemed to be safe. The rest of Cairo International Airport was swarming. Dillon was sure that they would have been unable to proceed if they had been driving on the west side of the airport. It seemed like all the infected of Cairo were headed west. Dillon knew that Cairo West Airbase was only two miles from Cairo International. The infected would be there soon enough, if they weren’t already.

  A quarter of a mile from the main gate, the convoy ran into a barricade of concrete barriers, hastily parked military vehicles, and razor wire. Dillon hopped out and looked around. Nobody was manning the checkpoint. That was the good news. Moving back to the convoy, Dillon spoke into the hand radio and gave everyone the bad news.

  “It’s the end of the road, everyone. No lights and no talking. Everyone get out of their vehicle except the drivers. Everyone else come to me, quickly and quietly.”

  Once everyone moved to his location, a small clearing near an opening in the maze-like barricades, Dillon started giving instructions to the drivers.

  “Lauren, You need to move off road and park with your front bumper ON that concrete wall. Now, vehicle one will park directly behind you, touching your bumper. That’s right, everyone, form a solid wall in front of these barricades.”

  It took a few minutes to do, and it was far from perfect, but it would slow the infected down a little more. After it was done, Dillon put Talbot and Donnie in charge of the main group. They had been rear vehicle and now they would be the rearguard of the group. Dillon went ahead by himself, not wanting to juggle up the order or have Hannah in harm’s way. He dropped a few chem-lights in areas that were narrow or where people risked tripping or cutting themselves on the razor wire. The maze of barriers, vehicles and wire was only about fifty feet deep. There were three ways to get in but only one way to get out the other side. As he popped out the other side, he held a chem-light at chest level and slowly waved it side to side in case someone was looking to shoot infected. Dillon radioed back to the group to start moving, and asked Talbot to bury each of the chem-lights after the group passed them. It was the only way to make sure the infected wouldn’t be attracted to the earie glow.

  Dillon knew that he had ruined much of his night vision by holding a chem-light. He also knew that it was the only way he could be sure his people wouldn’t be gunned down by someone waiting for them. It was a devil’s bargain, at best.

  “Tawaqqaf hunak. Waqf 'aw sawf tabadul li'iitlaq alnnar . Hal 'ant ghawl?”

  Dillon almost laughed. He could see two armored personnel carriers now, perhaps a hundred feet away. There were two DSHK heavy machineguns leveled at Dillon and his group. The Egyptian soldiers manning the checkpoint had been smart enough to send a soldier down the small hill to the group, so as not to have to shout. But what Dillon really found funny was that the Egyptian soldier, in addition to telling him to stop, had asked him if he was a ghoul.

  “Basha, Ana last ghawl . Ana ln 'atahaddath maeak 'iidha kunet. Ana min alssifarat al'amrikia . Daeuna fi , eam bik yutawaqqae minna.” was Dillon’s response. (I am not a ghoul, I would not be talking to you if I was. I am from the American Embassy. Let us in, your general is expecting us.)

  Dillon knew that playing the rude, impatient American was the way to impress upon these soldiers just how important he was. In Egypt, the most powerful of people had no respect or kindness for those under them.

  “I don’t believe you. Why should we let you in. You may be carrying the disease.”

  “We aren’t carrying the disease. We are carrying the cure. We have some for the general and his staff, but I think we have some extra for you. We don’t have time to waste. Let us through and we will give you some.”

  “I think you are in no position to bargain, my western friend. Give us the cure or we will shoot.”

  “I don’t think you want to shoot, my friend. The machineguns are very loud, and the noise would attract the ghouls. You can see with your own eyes what happened at Cairo International. Besides, firing those machineguns at us would destroy the cure.”

  The soldier looked pissed that he had been unable to pressure Dillon. Dillon had seen this act in a half-dozen countries, and it was always the same. Posturing and bullying would only stop if you stood your ground on the important things.

  Finally, the soldier made an angry clicking noise with his mouth and trudged up the hill to talk to his people in whispered tones. As he did, Dillon took aim on the gunner hanging out of the turret on the right vehicle.

  “Talbot, aim down on the left gunner. I think we just bargained our way inside in trade for giving these guys the cure. Just in case, though, be ready.”

  After a mi
nute or so, the soldier walked back down the hill, hands in his pockets.

  “I am Rashid.” He said in fairly decent English. “We want the medicine.”

  “We will pass first, then give it to you.”

  “Okay. Good deal.”

  Dillon took the opportunity to do a head count as everyone passed between the two armored vehicles. So far, he hadn’t lost anyone. Then, he looked at Doc and said, “Give it to them.”

  Doc spent five minutes giving each of them a shot. Dillon noticed that Doc used the same needle each time. As they walked away and towards the main gate of Cairo West Airbase, Dillon turned to Doc and asked “What was that about?”

  “I only have thirty doses of the vaccine, and they are going to be the most valuable things we have when we get to our evacuation point. Besides, these soldiers out here aren’t going to make it.”

  “They’re a speed bump.” Dillon said, agreeing.

  “Exactly. So, I gave them all saline. Are you ready to go?”

  “Wow, Doc. Just….wow.”

  “I know. I even surprised myself with this.”

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  The airbase was a quiet hum. A captain controlling the main gate decided to let them in after a bit of negotiation, but acted like it was killing him to do so. It looked like there was most of a mechanized infantry brigade on the perimeter, but things inside were chaotic enough that nobody stopped them as they headed towards the northwest hangar complex. That was where the U.S. contractors worked, and where the Osprey’s would be coming in. As they moved through the airbase, the number of civilians sheltering within was alarming. The infection surely had to already be inside the perimeter. Dillon told everyone to be on their guard and moved as fast as he could until he saw the first Americans standing behind two hastily constructed rows of chain link fence.

  “Hey, you must be Mr. Shay.” said the long haired guy with the M-4 at the ready. He had a full beard and wore his hair in a ponytail under a non-descript ball cap. Everything about him screamed Blackwater.

  “Sure am. Do I know you?”

  “I think we played around in the same sandbox a few times. You were SF, right? 5th Group?”

  “Yah, 2nd Battalion. You?”

  “Second as well, Echo Company.” He said, opening up the gate.

  “Bravo. How many guys you have here?”

  “Three. I was the guard force commander. My deputy and my logistics guy are here, too. The locals guards…well, they stopped showing up to work.”

  “I know the feeling. I can’t blame them. How are the landlords?”

  “The Egyptian Army? They ain’t half bad. Of course, when those C-130s land, the general is going to want a ride. I suspect you’ll have to give him one, since it will take twenty minutes or more to land them, get them loaded, and take off.”

  “The plan has changed. They’re sending three Ospreys. We’ll be up and out before they know it.”

  “That’ll work. Got room for six more?”

  “Six? I thought you only had three?”

  “Three from BW, another three techs that were working on helicopter avionics.”

  “We have room.” Dillon said, hoping.

  “Well, we’ll squeeze on somehow. My name’s Jimmy.”

  “Dillon.”

  The two men shook hands, but Dillon had the idea that Jimmy would kill for a seat on one of those Ospreys. It took most of an hour to get everyone into three lines; one per arriving Osprey. Dillon hoped it would expedite loading. Hannah and Mikey were going to be on the first Osprey.

  The birds came in fast. Osprey’s are like that.

  Dillon had everyone clustered in three lines, though they had started to blur into one gaggle within a half hour. The Ospreys were loud, and kicked up a lot of dust as they came in.

  The beautiful thing about Ospreys is they land like a helicopter but fly like a plane. It allowed the Osprey to land, or take off, from places a plane couldn’t. They couldn’t hold nearly as much cargo, or personnel, as a C-130, but they definitely had their uses. Dillon saw the ramps come down and the crew chiefs hop out. They had M-240 machineguns mounted in the rear, which told Dillon they were U.S. Marine Marine Corps birds. That was good news. The Marine Ospreys were more reliable, and their pilots had more experience. The bad news struck Dillon like a lightning bolt. There were only TWO birds.

  The closest crew chief was motioning towards the group, urging them to start boarding the first Osprey. Dillon watched as Jimmy and his contractors took their place at the ramp. They were providing security, but they had made it clear that they were boarding. The second Osprey’s crew chief motioned for boarding to start, and Dillon made sure more people started loading. The three lines had become two groups. Everyone wasn’t going to get on. They had a total of 82 passengers to get on two Ospreys that held 24 passengers each. The noise prevented all semblance of coordination. Worse yet, it seemed like the Egyptian Army had decided to visit.

  Dillon cringed as the Egyptian vehicles rolled through the chain link fence. Somewhere, a shot was fired. Had it come from the Egyptians or from one of Dillon’s people? Regardless, the first bird started to close ramp and lift off. Dillon saw Mikey out of the corner of his eye and moved to him, pulling him close so the people moving from the first Osprey to the second wouldn’t trample him. He couldn’t find Hannah. He picked up Mikey and began running towards the other bird. More shots rang out, and the second Osprey’s gunner opened up on the Egyptian trucks.

  Dillon ran away from the aircraft. Those running toward it started dropping. Anyone between the second Osprey and the distant Egyptian vehicles was in the middle of the crossfire. All Dillon knew was that Mikey was safe and he had to make him safer. As both of the birds lifted off, he kept running, knowing that nothing in the immediate area was heavy enough cover to stop the kind of rounds that were flying. Dillon ran until he was reached the back of a hangar. There was nowhere left to run. He turned his flashlight on and used it, and his hands, to check Mikey for holes. Mikey was shaking, but alright.

  “You’re alright, you’re alright.” Dillon said, hugging him tightly. The sound of gunfire had died down outside. He knew he had to find a way out quickly. The Egyptians would be looting this place soon enough, and wouldn’t be kind to any American’s they found. Dillon heard a noise and raised his rifle in his right hand. It was Jimmy, holding one hand in the air.

  “Jimmy, we need to get out of here.”

  “Yep. There’s a door cut into the hangar back in the break room. It leads outside the fence.”

  “Thank God for poor security decisions.”

  “Yah, the locals like to smoke but know we won’t let them do it in the hangar or on the tarmac.”

  “What’s happening out there?”

  “Looks like the Egyptian’s are rounding up your people and shooting them.”

  Dillon let go of Mikey and performed a quick function check on his weapon. He did it out of habit, as he hadn’t fired a single round yet.

  “Boss, you don’t want to go out there. There’s at least fifty of those boys, and just two of us.”

  Dillon knew Jimmy was right. He didn’t have to like it.

  “Besides, you have to take care of this little man. This your boy?”

  “Yah, this is Mikey. I need to see if Hannah…my wife…made it on board.”

  Jimmy gave a wry smile. “That cute little thing with the medical bag? I was hoping she was single. I helped her up onto the ramp right before the shooting started. She looked pretty frantic, but the crew chief was pulling her into a seat and strapping her in himself. She’s okay.”

  “Thank God.” Dillon said, fighting back tears. “You hear that, Mikey, your mom got out okay.”

  “I left her to come looking for you. I didn’t want you to get left behind.”

  “Well, now we’ve both been left behind, so we’re going to have us an adventure.”

  “We sure are.” said Jimmy. “For now, though, I think we need to find a hole a
nd hide in it.”

  “Well, we need to hide or run. Do you have a place in mind?”

  “I just might. I know this corner of the airbase better than those Egyptians do. There’s an old bunker under this building – we kept it up just in case.”

  “Lead the way, Jimmy.”

  A trapdoor led down a ladder about ten feet. The walls were bare, but the place was larger than Dillon expected. There were three rooms, each about ten by thirty feet. Jimmy quickly found a number of battery-powered lamps and lit the central room up.

  “Any reason we shouldn’t look around?”

  “Nope. This place is safe enough.”

  “Great.” Dillon turned to Mikey. “Hey, how about you and I start the adventure by checking this bunker out.”

  That seemed to shake a bit of the shock off of Mikey, and he smiled at the prospect. “With you, right?” he said, wary to walk around alone.

  “Of course.” Dillon grabbed one of the lamps and started with the room on the left. It was full of old metal shelves, partially rusted but still sturdy. They held box upon box of MREs. Dillon handed the lamp to Mikey and clicked on his flashlight.

  “I wonder how old these are. Here we go. This top shelf is four years old.”

  “The bottom shelf is from 1995, dad.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to risk eating anything in those. The pound cake and freeze dried fruit might be okay, but I wouldn’t risk the entre. But these, up here, I think they’ll be just fine.” Dillon put his flashlight away and grabbed a box from the top shelf. “Hey Jimmy, where’s the bottled water, and how old is it?”

  “I just grabbed a case. It’s about four years old or so. We stored it on cardboard to keep it from touching the concrete, so it’s good.”

  “Okay then. We eat and then we make a plan.” Dillon opened the cardboard box and pulled out a packet. “Ravioli?”

  “Sure.” Mikey said.

  “Jimmy, you have a preference?”