Zombie Uprising Series (Book 3): The Citadel

by Robbins, M. A.

  Mark faced her, his upper lip curled back as he spat out the words. "Remember those four soldiers that were kept hostage by the Taliban and were beheaded one at a time over six months?"

  Jen's stomach soured. "No telling what that asshole would do to us."

  Zeke finished his soup and put the bowl down. He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Lucky for us we'll be gone in a week." His face clouded. "But not Grant."

  "Don't you worry about that," Jen said. "I've got leverage with Cartwright and I'm going to use it. I'll get Grant out of here."

  Howell strode into the chow hall. "I'm glad you took my advice."

  Jen caught Mark's eyes. They'd have to be more careful where they talked freely. Howell could've walked in during their conversation.

  Mark gestured to an empty chair pulled up to the table. "Join us, Sergeant?"

  Howell put his hands on his hips. "Not this time. You're going to join me and Colonel Butler."

  "What for?" Jen asked.

  "Colonel's taking you on a mission. We're to meet him at the helipad in ten minutes."

  "We get to ride in a chopper?" Zeke asked.

  Jen winced. Yeah, we'll ride out in it, but will we come back in it?

  5

  Howell stopped at a metal door just inside the lobby. He banged his fist on it and yelled, "Howell here. Need ammo loads now."

  A small door opened and closed, then the metal door swung open. A shirtless soldier stepped to the side and let them in. "Whatcha lookin' for, Sarge?"

  Howell positioned himself at the center of the room and Jen stopped next to him. Weapons lined every wall. Racks of M4 Carbines against one wall, with pistols and machine guns along another.

  "Need M4 and 9mm loads for each of these folks," Howell said. "Going shopping in the city."

  Jen walked over to the machine guns. "These look pretty nice."

  "M60s," Howell said. "Sorry, but you're not authorized."

  The armorer stacked the ammo on a desk. "Here ya go."

  Zeke stood across the room admiring the flamethrowers. He glanced back and jerked a thumb at the rack in front of him. "Mind if I take one of these instead?"

  The armorer looked at Howell.

  "Fuck, no," Howell said. "You all get standard load out. Get your ass over here and grab your rounds."

  Zeke shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying." He took a sling of 5.56 ammo for his rifle.

  "You know how to handle that weapon?" the armorer asked.

  "I have a master badge on my M4 Carbine. I love this gun."

  "Master badge?" The armorer squinted. "Never heard of that before. Where'd you get it?"

  "FPS," Zeke said.

  "FPS?"

  Zeke slung the rifle over his shoulder. "First Person Shooter."

  Mark took pistol ammo from the armorer. "You don't want to know."

  "Load it all up," Howell said.

  Jen followed Howell outside. It had cooled and dark clouds had rolled in, covering the base in a dusk-like shadow.

  Howell climbed into the driver's seat of an extended cab pickup. Jen and the others joined him.

  As much as it was an understatement, Zeke looked awkward—a skinny kid with a rifle, pistol, and sword. "How are you going to manage all of those weapons?" she asked.

  Zeke winked at her and lowered his voice. "Once we get into any real action, I'll hide the rifle and take out Betty." He patted the scabbard.

  Jen rubbed her face. "For your sake, I hope this zombie apocalypse doesn't end too soon. I don't know if there's room for you in the place called normal."

  Howell put the truck in gear and took off.

  The muffled whump whump of helicopter blades signaled they'd arrived at the helipad. The truck stopped ten yards from the helicopter and they all got out.

  "Follow me," Howell yelled. He hurried to the helicopter, bending over as he got closer. Jen mimicked his movements.

  "This is a Blackhawk," Mark said to Jen.

  The colonel sat in the front seat with the pilot, his headset on. Howell seated each of them and made sure their belts were secure, then gave the pilot a thumbs-up.

  The helicopter lifted a few feet off the ground, then tilted and flew forward while it gained altitude.

  Butler turned and yelled over the helicopter's racket to Jen. "Dr. Cartwright wants you to observe. We've got a roundup in progress and I thought it'd give you a chance to see what we've been doing. At the same time you can observe the zombies."

  They flew over the wall and across countryside to the highway. Nothing moved below, the cars and trucks parked at weird angles and looking like toys.

  "What's a roundup?" Jen yelled back.

  "You'll see, Miss Reed. You'll see."

  Jen didn't remind him to call her by her first name like she'd done with everyone else.

  The helicopter flew over the city. Abandoned cars littered the streets, along with a few shuffling undead, but it was mostly just a graveyard. Butler pointed off in the distance and looked at the pilot. The pilot nodded and the chopper shifted to fly in that direction.

  Mark sat quiet, almost trance-like. He's flown these things plenty of times, so it's no big deal to him.

  They slowed as they came to the larger buildings in the city. The helicopter descended toward the top of the tallest building ahead of them. Jen braced herself for it to hit hard, but it landed so smoothly she almost couldn't feel it.

  The pilot flipped some switches on his console and the blades slowed down. "You can remove your restraints at this time."

  Howell unlatched his belt, pulled the door open, and stepped onto the rooftop. Jen and the others followed him out.

  Butler led them to the edge of the roof and pointed below. Several shorter buildings flanked the one they stood on, lining up to create a U shape, with their building at the bottom of the U.

  Jen looked at Mark, but he didn't break his eyes away from the troops assembled on top of the other buildings. Set up with machine guns and other small arms, they faced the inner part of the U.

  "This is our roundup," Butler said. "We had a recon unit go out and stir up the meat bags. They're leading them here as we speak."

  He pointed to the streets below. "Every side street is blocked off with vehicles, except for that one directly below us. That's where the recon vehicle gets out after luring them here."

  "What keeps them from following your men out of there?" Mark asked.

  Butler shaded his eyes and scanned the area. "You'll see."

  Jen shifted the rifle on her shoulder. "Then it's shooting-fish-in-a-barrel time."

  Butler smiled. "Exactly. So you see that we're taking care of business here. Eliminating the threat a few hundred and a few thousand at a time."

  "Sir." Howell pointed to the left. A Humvee drove up a two-lane street bordered by an open park on one side and a lake on the other. A horde raced after it. Several zombies strayed, and the Humvee honked its horn, keeping them locked on the vehicle. The deluge of zombies kept coming. There had to be several hundred.

  Butler pulled a handheld radio from his belt and brought it to his mouth. "Command One to all units. Targets in sight. Prepare to engage."

  The soldiers on the rooftops, who had been lounging and smoking, gathered their weapons and set up.

  Zeke had wandered off, exploring. He gets bored easy.

  The Humvee paused at the opening of the trap, then traveled down the street between the buildings, the hungry horde clamoring behind it. Just before it would've hit her building, the vehicle took a sharp left and zoomed down the open road. A moving van parked on the side of the road roared to life and pulled across the road, blocking it. A soldier hopped out and scurried away.

  The horde hit the dead end and stopped. Having no prey in sight, they milled around.

  Butler put the radio to his mouth. "Commence firing."

  The immediate blast of gunfire made Jen cringe and take a step back. The troops on both sides poured rifle and machine gun fire into the zombies and they fell
like flies.

  Five minutes later, commanders shouted to cease fire. Not a zombie moved.

  "Shit," Jen said, her ears ringing. "There had to be five or six hundred of them."

  Butler turned to her. "This is what we do, Miss Reed. We take out the enemy. It's just a matter of time before we have them all."

  "But you still have the virus to deal with," Mark said.

  "Dr. Cartwright and her team will take care of that." Butler smirked at Jen. "Did you observe any behavior you need to report back?"

  Pompous asshole. "Not much to observe if they're all dead."

  "Precisely why you're wasting your time here," Butler said.

  Would it be too obvious if I accidentally tripped and knocked him off the roof?

  "Jen," Zeke called from behind.

  She glanced over her shoulder, then spun. Zeke stood over two headless zombies. "Where the hell did they come from?"

  Zeke wiped his katana off on their ragged clothes. "Door on the other side of the roof. It opens facing the other way, so we didn't see it when we got here."

  Howell pushed the corpses with his toe. "Good job, soldier."

  Zeke pulled his hood off. "I'm a ninja. If I was a soldier, I would've been over there with you guys, not hearing these zombies coming because of all the gunfire."

  Mark smiled. "He's got a point."

  Butler grunted and stalked to the helicopter. "Back to base. Cleanup crews will take care of the bodies."

  Jen peered down to the street. Dozens of soldiers with flamethrowers had already begun.

  After landing at the base, Butler drove off in a staff car without a word.

  Fine with me.

  Howell dropped them off at the HQ building. "You're safe to get some rest for a while, unless there's an attack on the base."

  "Are we free to walk around?" Mark asked.

  Howell shrugged. "Sure. Everywhere except the restricted areas designated by Colonel Butler."

  "Where are those?" Jen asked.

  "Here and there," Howell said. "They're clearly marked and have guards posted."

  Zeke squinted at Howell. "Why would you have restricted areas here? There's only soldiers on the base and the zombies aren't going to try sneaking in."

  Jen chuckled. He sometimes acted odd, but Zeke had it together.

  "Even soldiers have varying security clearance levels," Howell said. He climbed into the truck, rolled down the window, and stuck his head out. "Just stay away from those areas. The guards are armed and take their jobs seriously."

  He put the truck in gear and drove off.

  Jen propped her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. "If it's something Colonel Butthead doesn't want us to know about, then it must be worth looking at, if only to piss him off. Who wants to go find some restricted areas with me?"

  6

  Jen stopped on a corner. Several soldiers and an airman passed her, ignored Mark, and stared at Zeke.

  Jen nudged Zeke. "I guess that sneaky ninja stuff works better at night."

  Zeke sniffed. "I could make myself invisible during the day, too. Just no reason to do it now."

  Mark shook his head, smiling.

  Jen frowned. A large, square building stood on the corner lot behind them, its sign indicating it was the supply warehouse. Across the street from it lay an identical building, its large doors open. Armed soldiers drove forklifts amid stacked pallets.

  The base fire department sat on the third corner, and on the last one was a small medical clinic.

  "Haven't seen anything restricted," Jen said. "Were they just screwing with us?"

  Mark shaded his eyes and peered down the street. He pointed. "There. See that?"

  Several buildings down there was a gap, then barbwire-topped fencing wrapped around a building. "Ah. Where there's a fence, there's something interesting," Jen said.

  She strode down the sidewalk, with Mark at her side and Zeke trailing behind. As they got closer, the full building came into view. Square, five stories, and with no windows, it seemed familiar.

  "Looks a bit like our facility in Anchorage," Mark said.

  Jen nodded. That was it. But the Anchorage building didn't have a fence.

  The only visible door faced the sidewalk they walked along. A gate with an armed guard stood between the door and the road.

  As they neared, a car stopped and a short man with balding gray hair and glasses hopped out. His cheap-looking suit was a size too big and the jacket fluttered in a gust of wind.

  "Wonder who that is," Jen said. "First non-soldier I've seen here." Didn't Butler rant about not wanting civilians on base?

  The guard opened the gate, nodded at the man, and closed it after he entered.

  Jen slowed as she passed. The man put his hand in a box next to the door and a green light came on as the door opened. Before it closed, she caught sight of a long lit hallway with several soldiers standing along it.

  "You need to move along," the guard said.

  His voice grabbed Jen's attention. She looked at him, then realized she wasn't moving. Mark and Zeke had gone a few yards past the gate and turned around.

  "Sorry," she murmured. "Lost in my thoughts."

  The guard glared as she caught up with Mark and Zeke. When they were out of earshot, Mark nudged her. "What did you see?"

  She shook her head. "A hallway and some guards. No telling what the hell's going on in there."

  They turned at the corner, heading back toward the HQ building.

  "Who do you think that guy in the suit was?" Zeke asked.

  Mark stopped and put out his arms, causing Jen and Zeke to halt.

  "Let's not get all tinfoil hat about this." He pointed past them. Jen turned. On the roof of the restricted building stood a tall, heavy antenna.

  "Communications," Mark said. "Always restricted."

  Jen put her hands on her hips. Was that all it was? She felt like an ass.

  She pushed past Mark. "I don't know about you guys, but I could use another meal and some sleep."

  A week later she turned off the shower and toweled off. Funny how you miss the little things when you don't have them.

  Her dresser had more military clothing her size, so she put on a fresh set and headed to the chow hall.

  The place was almost full, but she spotted Zeke at a corner table with one plate stacked with pancakes and another brimming with eggs, bacon, and home fries. The smell of the bacon made her mouth water.

  She grabbed some scrambled eggs and bacon and joined Zeke. He had just drowned his pancakes in half a bottle of fake maple syrup. "What's our plan today?" he asked.

  Jen swallowed a mouthful of eggs and picked up a piece of bacon. "I figure I better check in with Cartwright. But after that we need to get out in the field. I'll talk to Howell about getting us a vehicle."

  Mark strode into the chow hall looking more relaxed than she'd seen him before.

  He made a beeline straight to them and sat down. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice, barely audible over the mixture of conversations and clinking silverware. "Found out more about that restricted area."

  Jen swallowed what she had in her mouth, then downed her juice. She glanced at a nearby table, then whispered, "What do you have?"

  "I got up early this morning," Mark said, "and went for my run. When I was done, I went to the gym and lifted some weights. There was a guy next to me and we spotted for each other. We started talking, and I just happened to mention the restricted area."

  He scooted his chair up a bit and looked around before continuing. "Guy said his barracks roommate was picked for duty at the restricted area. The troops call it Area 51. His roommate moved over to the special barracks for people who work in Area 51. He didn't see the guy for a month."

  Mark licked his lips. "When he ran into his buddy again, all he could get out of him was a 'Hey, how are ya doing?' The guy kept his mouth shut and walked away."

  Zeke stabbed a sausage patty and held it up, examining it. "Definitely soun
ds like something strange is going on there."

  "It does," Jen said. "And everyone here knows it. Why else call it Area 51?"

  Mark shrugged. "Could mean nothing. There's no place on Earth where rumors fly more freely than a military base."

  "I'd ask Cartwright about it," Jen said, "but I need to feel her out a little bit more. I'm not sure yet what I can trust her with." She pushed her plate away. "In the meantime, we need to get into the city and see what our zombie friends have been up to."

  Zeke pointed his fork at two greasy pieces of bacon on Jen's plate. "You going to eat those?"

  Jen shook her head. He stabbed the bacon and shoved it into his mouth. Where the hell does this skinny kid put all that food?

  "How do we get to the city?" Mark asked.

  Jen put a finger in the air. "For that, we need to see the good Sergeant Howell. Rather than getting a vehicle, I think it's safer if we can hitch a ride on the helicopter. Ready?"

  Mark stood. Zeke let a quiet belch out and pushed his chair back from the table.

  Jen led them out of the chow hall and to the HQ building's lobby, where a disinterested looking guard sat at a desk.

  "Where can we find Sergeant Howell?" she asked.

  The guard looked them over, then jacked a thumb over his shoulder at a hallway. "Fourth door on your right. Word to the wise: if his door isn't open, make sure you knock."

  Jen strode past him and into the hallway. The fourth door stood open, and Howell sat at a desk studying a sheaf of papers.

  "Sergeant Howell?" she said.

  He looked up and laid the papers down. "Miss Reed and company. What can I do for you?"

  "It's Jen," she said. "Do you have any roundups scheduled for today?"

  He leaned back in his chair and pointed to a whiteboard. "Schedule's there. Got one in about two hours, and another midafternoon. Why? You didn't get enough of them yesterday?"

  Jen raised an eyebrow. "As entertaining as it is to see hundreds of dead people torn apart, we do have to move on to other things. I'd like to get a ride into the city on the helicopter."

  Howell rubbed his chin. "Sure. Do you know where you want to go?"