by Lundy, W. J.
“Okay, clear as mud then. Alright everyone, get your gear together. Be ready to move out in two hours,” Sean said as he started to break down his MP5 for another round of cleaning.
Brad leaned back in his chair. He was extremely frustrated and sore from his battle on the deck with the primal. He had no interest in Sean’s plan to clear the building, yet he understood completely the importance of the mission. If they were going to survive, they would have to regain their ground. He wouldn’t argue the decision. Brad knew it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t the easiest.
He dug through his bag, pulled out a fresh set of MultiCams and got dressed. He grabbed his rifle and inspected it. He hadn’t fired it in a few days, but still he removed the bolt and oiled all of its components. He checked and double-checked his magazines. He still had close to a combat load’s worth of ammo, and there were still hundreds of rounds in his rucksack. Grabbing his vest, he made sure everything was secure and then placed his last fresh set of batteries into his night vision goggles.
Once Brad was confident he would be ready for the coming mission, he leaned his head back deep into the chair and pulled his patrol cap over his eyes.
6.
When he opened his eyes, Brad saw Sean trying to look through the glass of the doors leading into the hallway. Brooks was standing behind him, readying his weapons and attaching gear to his chest harness. Swanson was leaning over her boots, tucking in the laces; her M4 was sitting beside her. Both officers were also up digging through their small flight bags.
Even though Brad was far from his normal routine, he still followed a mental checklist when he prepped for a mission. He went through his checklist, physically touching each item. He tightened all of his loose straps and checked to make sure his spare magazines were loaded and snapped in place. His fighting knife was hanging just below his left shoulder, with the handle down. A tourniquet was on his right shoulder, a first aid pouch on his belt. He wore his M9 on his hip, and the holster held two spare magazines.
Brad finished his prep work, drank down an entire bottle of water (never knowing when the next chance to hydrate would come), then relieved himself into the empty bottle and tossed it into a trash can. He was ready to go, so he made his way to Sean and Brooks and leaned against the wall. Sean pulled four small cardboard boxes of 5.56 NATO rounds from his backpack and tossed them to Swanson.
“Load these up, Corporal; you may need them,” Sean said.
He then turned and faced the group. “We’re going to move out in two groups. Brooks, Brad, and I will push forward on the assault team. I want you three to wait until we make the first landing, then move in behind us as support. I want separation in the teams. Only one team at a time on a floor or in a ladder well. We will assault forward; you three will lag back and be prepared to reinforce us if we need to fall back in a hurry or get blocked. Corporal, you are in charge of the support team. Any questions?”
“So we’re supposed to just stand around in the hallway and wait for you to do something?” Mr. Douglas asked.
“Sir, I would recommend you get into defensive positions at every stop. Odds are, if we fall back, we’ll be moving in a hurry. Just please try very hard not to shoot us,” Sean answered.
Captain Bradley moved towards the door and unholstered his M9. “Okay Chief, let’s get this over with.”
Sean looked at Brooks and signaled for him to move out. Brooks slowly opened the door, clearing everything in his vision as it slowly revealed the interior of the hallway. Brad moved forward and took a position inside the hallway and on the left wall. Brooks moved a step ahead and took the right wall, with Sean holding the center of the hallway.
With the door now fully open and the light of the lounge bleeding into the hall, they knelt down and listened for any movement. The hallway was as they had left it, covered with trash and bodies and stinking of death. The assault team moved forward and stacked up on the first office door. Swanson’s support team stepped to the lounge’s doorframe and took a knee to watch Sean’s team work.
Even though the first floor offices had been cleared the day before, they were cautious and had decided beforehand that they would do a one hundred percent sweep of everything. The assault group would clear the room and push forward, while the support team would occupy their previous position to make sure nothing got past them. Slowly they cleared the first floor and stacked on the ladder well at the end of the hall.
Brooks cracked a chemical light and dropped it at the base of the stairs. None of the support team wore night vision, and he didn’t want them to get spooked and pop off a round in the dark. Brooks waited for Sean and Brad to stack behind him. A single tap on his shoulder indicated they were ready, so he crept up the dark stairs. His night vision goggles painted the space a creepy digital green. He paused often to listen for movement, but all he could hear was the creaking of the metal structure and the storm blowing outside.
He reached the top and looked down the long, dark corridor. It looked the same as they had left it; the dismembered Marine still lay in the center of the hallway. The stack of primal bodies was still piled in front of the open office door. He slowly led them forward, trying to be quiet, although their boots slipped and squeaked on the sticky, blood-covered floor; occasionally they kicked spent brass and heard the clinking of metal on metal.
Again they cleared the rooms. The trio made it past the point where they had found Swanson. They moved to the end of the hall and stacked on the door leading up to the unknown third floor. They held up and waited, hearing the rustling of the support team moving up the stairs and taking positions at the far end of the hallway. Brad turned to look at them, barely making out their facial expressions in the hue of the night vision goggles.
He could see the silhouettes of Swanson and Mr. Douglas as the two of them peeked out and down the hallway toward him. The captain must have held back to cover their six. He watched Swanson take a step out of the ladder well and take a knee with her M4 held at the ready, while Mr. Douglas stood at a crouch just over her shoulder.
Brad felt the pat coming from Sean to his front and knew it was time to move again. He tapped Sean back to indicate he was ready, and they moved forward to the doors leading to the third floor. Brad watched Brooks reach for the handle of the door. Unlike the others, this one was in a locked position but it had been bashed in, twisted at its hinges, allowing one of the sections to be forced inward off of its frame. There was an imploded gap where the creatures had breached the doorway, and the metal edges were covered with ripped pieces of clothing and skin.
Brooks wrapped his gloved fingers over the edge of the door and applied pressure to open it. The door started to screech as the twisted steel pieces pulled against each other. He immediately stopped and stepped back. He moved back to Sean and whispered, “The door is completely jammed up. I can open it, but it’s going to be loud.”
“Okay. We’ll rip it open, but use the rope and give us some standoff distance,” Sean whispered back.
Brooks reached into his butt pack and pulled out a length of heavy corded rope. He lashed it around the handle of the door, then they backtracked down the hall, letting the length of the rope out behind them as they went. They stopped just in front of the support team. Sean and Brad took a knee on opposite sides of the hall and aimed the IR lasers of their weapons at the battered doors. Sean nodded to Brooks to pull the rope.
Brooks yanked the rope and the door let out a wailing screech of twisted sheet metal, but the door didn’t give. He pulled again, making a lot of noise but no better results. Without instruction, Bradley moved forward from the ladder well and grabbed a section of the rope from Brooks. Together they strained and pulled, the door screeching all the more. Brad watched as the door began to give under the weight of the rope, but the handle section buckled and the rope sprang free.
Brooks shook his head and pulled the rope back towards him, coiling it as he reeled it in. “Hold position and cover me, I’ll tie it back on,
” Brooks whispered. Sean nodded his acknowledgement and Brooks started to slowly make his way back to the door. Only two steps into the walk they heard a crash coming from the third deck’s ladder well. Brooks froze in place, dropping the rope and readying his weapon. Then they heard the first of many moans …
“Ahhh shit, there goes the neighborhood,” Brooks said as he stepped back and returned to the assault team’s formation.
“Captain, get back to your team,” Sean said.
Just as Bradley turned to move, the first primal crashed into the set of battered doors. Brad raised his rifle and watched the doors heave. Sean fired carefully placed rounds that pierced the metal doors, but the commotion on the far side continued.
“Concentrate your fire on the doors! Let’s kill these fucks while they’re trapped on the landing,” Sean said.
Brooks and Brad acknowledged the order by firing shots in groups of two into the doors at shoulder height. They saw more rounds pierce the door, but the pounding continued and the intensity of the moaning grew. Soon the hall was filled with smoke and the visibility had dropped. They continued to fire straight down the hallway into the moans, filling the doors and landing with a wall of lead.
Brad felt the bolt in his rifle lock to the rear and called out, “Reloading!”
He quickly dropped his magazine and fished a fresh one from his vest. Brad pushed the bolt release and slammed the forward assist with the palm of his hand. Before he could tell the others he was back online, they heard the crunch of the doors giving way and the frenzied charge of the primals.
They broke from the smoke and quickly closed the distance, rushing at them in a thick pack, filling the hallway and moving fast. The assault team fired at them, knocking down the first rank and slowing the charge as the falling primal bodies impeded the mass. Without being asked, Swanson moved her support team forward. They took up a standing position behind Brad. He could hear the officers’ 9mm pistols join the fight and he could feel the brass from Swanson’s rifle bounce off his shoulder as she fired into the mob.
One of the creatures broke through and dove at the men, landing on top of Brooks. Brooks pushed up his forearm and pressed the creature’s face against the wall as he was forced over and onto his side. Captain Bradley stepped forward and gripped the primal by the back of its collar to pull it away from Brooks. With Brook’s forearm still pressing it tightly against the wall, Bradley shoved his pistol against the primal’s temple and fired.
Brooks rolled from under the creature and forced himself back into a firing position, returning his weapon to action. Brad focused his attention forward as another wave moved at them en masse. He fired nearly point-blank into the mob, smoke and the flash of the weapons washing out his night vision.
Sean yelled “Weapon dry!” and seamlessly pulled his sidearm, pumping heavy .45 caliber rounds into the charging primals. The front rank’s heads exploded as more pushed them forward and into the team. Then the fight fell apart. Swanson screamed that she was out of ammo and she started backpedaling into the stairway. A primal leaped from the mob’s ranks, hitting Brad square. Another jumped against the wall, skirted the fire and bounced into Sean’s blind spot.
Both men were knocked off of their feet and began fighting for their lives in the confined space. Swanson and Douglas had both pulled back. Bradley leapt forward to help Sean while Brooks focused his fire forward, trusting his brothers to regain their position and knowing if he stopped firing to help them they would be completely overrun.
Brad was crushed against the floor and could feel the primal gnawing at the sides of his helmet. Brad released the grip on his rifle and strained for his pistol with his right hand but it was jammed under his thigh. He forced his left arm between the creature and his chest and pulled his fighting knife, then forced it into the primal’s arm pit.
He shoved the blade all the way to the hilt, feeling it grind against the bone. The creature continued to fight, so Brad reversed his grip on the blade and pushed the knife deeper, twisting the handle as he shoved through muscle and bone. He felt the primal’s grip weaken. Brad took advantage of the opportunity and forced his right arm up, rolling the primal off of him and to the side. He drew back the knife and shoved it forward at a deep angle into the primal’s neck, piercing its brain stem and skull.
With the primal down, Brad looked forward and saw two more closing on him fast. He regained control of his rifle and fired quick shots to knock them down. He turned just in time to see Sean finish the creature he was wrestling with two rapid shots to the skull, the heavy rounds blowing chunks of bone and blood into the wall beside him. Bradley dropped back against the wall into a sitting position, breathing hard.
Then it was quiet; nothing but the sounds of post-firefight breathing and sizzling brass on the bloody floors. Brooks reloaded his weapon before reaching down and pulling Brad back into a kneeling position. Sean climbed to his feet and looked down the hallway, using the beam of his laser to probe the fallen pile of primals. The sound of boots behind them indicated that the support team was moving back to the hallway.
Brad was breathing hard; his hands and knees were shaking from the rush of adrenalin. He was still feeling the high of the fight when he heard the sounds of boot treads on the stairs. He turned just in time to see the support team getting back into position behind them. Sean looked back and asked Captain Bradley if he was okay. The captain gave a nod and climbed back to his feet.
Sean stared at Swanson and Mr. Douglas. “Captain Bradley, I appreciate you coming forward in the middle of that for me; I saw you help Brooks as well. Thank you.”
“I’m just trying to show you my old ass isn’t completely useless when it’s not strapped to a helicopter.”
“Everyone check yourselves and get me a thumbs up,” Sean said.
Brad looked himself over, finding his armor was covered with blood and gore. He had burnt through half his ammo in the small engagement and he knew they wouldn’t be able to keep up this tempo without resupply. He pushed himself to his feet and stretched, noting he wasn’t injured, just sore. He looked over at Sean and gave him a thumbs up.
The hallway ahead now had a mound of bodies covering it; the dead were everywhere and the stench of blood and cordite was still heavy in the air. It was dark again, and the only sound was that of the storm outside breaking the silence. Sean started to push forward with Brooks on the opposite side of the hallway; they were both stepping carefully over the dead primal bodies. Brad fell in behind them, carefully watching where he placed his feet, still wary of the creatures covering the floor.
The double doors leading to the third floor stairway were now completely opened. Broken, bent, and twisted from their frame, but open. Brooks approached the landing and peeked inside. He signaled back that the first approach was clear, and Sean signaled for him to proceed. Sean fell in behind him with Brad taking the rear position.
The stench in the stairway was overwhelming. Brad pulled his shemagh up over his face but it did little to filter the smell of death and human waste. Brooks made his way to the top of the stairs and cut the angle, carefully making the turn to the next set of stairs. The team stayed tight, following him to the top. At the landing to the third floor they found another set of doors. It was no surprise that they had also been pushed in off their frame.
The room beyond the doors was lit in low light from the emergency floodlight box hanging on the wall. Sean gave a signal and they moved into the room, dividing it into sectors, and verifying it was clear. They found themselves in a lounge identical to the one downstairs, except this room had been torn apart. The walls were covered in gore; pool tables and furniture were overturned and piled as if they had been used in a hasty barricade. There was just the one emergency light left, located high up on the wall; the rest had been torn from their boxes
“What in the hell happened here?” Brad whispered.
“Looks like they made a last stand before they were overtaken,” Sean said.
Broo
ks made his way to the back wall where the double doors exiting the lounge at the far end of the room were still secured. “Maybe not,” he said. “These doors are still locked.”
Sean and Brad stepped forward and examined the solidly locked doors. They discovered that these doors were the same as the ones on the first floor: two heavy steel fire doors designed to contain three thousand degree fires for hours, not just to divide spaces like the other flimsy sheet-metal doors. The wire-reinforced safety glass was shattered and impossible to see through.
The support team crept up the stairs and made their way into the low glow of the emergency lighting. Swanson moved forward into the room. “They locked us out. This is where we tried to fall back to before …. The bastards locked us out and left us to die.”
Sean looked away from her and back to the sealed fire doors. He pounded a fist against them and heard nothing. He picked up a piece of broken metal from a table leg and began tapping against the steel frame of the door. He tapped a rhythmic beat that in no way would be confused with the pawing of a primal. Sean paused, then shook his head. “Fuck it.” He pounded on the doors. “Hey assholes, open the damn doors!” he yelled.
7.
There was a rustling of noise on the other side. Sean pounded and yelled again, “I can hear you in there, now open this door!”
“Get away from here or we’ll open fire,” came a frightened voice on the other side of the door.
“The hell you will! Now open this door before I place a charge on it and blow it off of its hinges!”
“We aren’t letting anyone in. You’re all infected.”
“No, we came in on the helicopter; you had to have heard it. We landed on the helipad above the building. Now open this door! That’s an order!” Sean roared.