Cale couldn’t quite make out the next target, but adjusted his sights just below where the muzzle flashes would appear. He fired off two rounds, and the muzzle flashes stopped.
“That’s two,” Zach said behind him.
Cale didn’t turn to look at his friend. Instead, he found himself another target. There was a man leaning out the window, shooting down at one of the women who’d taken cover behind a dumpster. His weapon rattled off a volley of rounds, and the woman fell back as her head exploded. Cale witnessed it in slow motion. The way the crimson liquid sprayed out, and her body seemed just to float backwards, seemed almost artistic.
Cale reoriented his thoughts, and, aiming at the man, landed a round to his head. He fell backwards from the window. Angry shouts came from within the building. “Three,” Zach continued his count.
“Stop,” Cale pleaded with him as he looked for another target.
The men in the windows focused fire on his position, shattering the vehicle’s windows and flattening a tire. Cale ducked out of sight.
“Fuck!” he shouted.
Cale looked to see how the medic was doing. He’d applied a dressing of some kind, and was readying an IV for the Irishman. He didn’t even flinch at the rounds peppering the area.
“You’ll have to get into that building and clear it,” advised Zach.
“I know,” Cale hissed.
“I informed QRF to provide support as you’re extracted. They’re coming with the big guns,” Blair’s voice came over on the radio.
“Roger! I’m going to see if I can flank them!” informed Cale.
“Do what you have to. Help is on the way,” Blair assured him.
“Cover me while I move!” Cale ordered his team.
In unison, they began pummeling the building with rounds, and Cale quickly moved to the base of the structure. He was now out of the line of fire.
“You!” Cale pointed to the man with the shotgun, “Follow me!”
The man hesitated a moment, but then ran to Cale’s position. Cale noticed the female getting ready to follow.
“Stay put and focus fire up there!” he told her, pointing up to the windows.
Without argument, she did as instructed and continued to engage the men in the windows.
“Let’s go!” Cale said to the man, as he climbed through a broken window.
Tables and chairs filled the building. At one time, it had been a restaurant. Their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and they began cautiously moving through. Cale stepped over toppled chairs and dead bodies. He didn’t bother to make sure of their status, given the loud firefight outside. If they were still animated they’d have been up by now. Together, they passed through a set of metal double doors that swung in both directions. They were in a kitchen now, where more bodies lined the floor.
“You’re looking for the stairs, right?” Zach asked.
Cale didn’t reply to his imaginary friend.
“Keep your eyes peeled for stairs,” Cale said to the man with the shotgun.
“Okay,” the man whispered back.
Cale took point, and lead him on a zigzag path through the kitchen. He could see the opening to a hall in the far wall to the north. He motioned the man to follow. There was a door with the word ‘Gestionnaire,’ and a flight of stairs to the right. He crept carefully along the wall toward the stairs. Cale could hear shouting from the second floor and moved rapidly around the corner, pointing his weapon toward the top of the stairs. He began a slow ascent to the next level. Weapon’s fire echoed through the narrow space.
“I think there’s one coming,” Zach said from the top of the stairs.
“Shut up so I can listen,” hissed Cale.
The man following him looked surprised at first, then wondered what he had done wrong.
Cale listened. His ears were ringing, but he could definitely hear the thunder of footfalls getting louder. Zach stepped out of the way and let the man take his place at the top of the stairs. Without hesitation, Cale shot the man, who then fell toward them. They moved aside and let the insurgent fall down the stairs.
“They’ll know we’re here. Get up there and shoot anything that moves,” Cale ordered the man with the shotgun. Given the confined space, his weapon would prove to be far more effective. He did as commanded, slowly moving up the stairs. The shouting on the second floor had stopped along with the gunfire. They were focusing their attention on the interior. At the top of the stairs, Cale indicated to the man to go in the direction their attacker had come from. Together, they flattened against the wall and moved toward an open door. Another man stepped out and attempted to fire, but the shotgun turned him into a bloody mess. The man with the shotgun was aiming at head height. It dawned on Cale that they’d been trained to fight infected, not the living.
“Still gets the job done,” Zach whispered. “Twelve gauge solves everything,” he joked.
Cale waved him off, accidentally catching the attention of his point man.
“Keep going,” whispered Cale.
The two of them entered the next room. It had been used as storage, and cardboard boxes were stacked all over. The light from the window revealed another kid on the floor. It was the one that Cale had shot in the side of the head. He looked to be sixteen or seventeen.
“Good God. They’re just kids,” Zach exclaimed.
“They engaged us,” Cale argued.
His point man looked at him, again confused. He’d have to do a better job of ignoring Zach. Cale shook his head and ordered the point man to keep going. Before they got to the next door, someone began firing on the other side. The rounds penetrated the wall and struck the boxes around them. Both men got down and moved to adjacent walls. In the other room the insurgents continued to fire wildly. Cale had an idea.
“Ah, Fuck!” he shouted.
He moaned in agony, as if he’d been hit. The man with the shotgun caught on to his plan instantly, and readied himself to blast whoever came through the door first. From the other side of the door their attackers began to talk. One of them cheered, excited to have hit their target. Cale’s ploy worked. The door swung open, and his team member blasted the armed girl that tried to enter. Someone began to scream, as the rest resumed blasting away at the wall.
“Put down your weapons and surrender peacefully!” a voice from outside demanded.
Someone was using a bullhorn, “If you continue to fight, we will have no choice but to return fire!”
Whoever was left in the next room began to argue. Their screams grew louder, until all sound culminated into a single gunshot. A few seconds later, there was another. Cale heard the weapon fall to the floor, and he looked at the man with the shotgun. They’d both come to the same conclusion.
“QRF, this is Elite. All hostiles are neutralized, how copy?” Cale spoke into the radio.
“That’s a good copy, Elite. You guys are gonna want to hurry and get out here. We passed a lot of infected on our way,” a woman responded.
“Roger that. We’ll have two coming out of the building in just a second,” informed Cale.
The two of them stood and prepared to depart. Cale peered into the room where the body of two girls and another boy were lifeless.
“They were just kids,” Zach stated.
37.
Confessions
“I’m not ready,” stated Cale.
“It was your first mission,” Blair replied.
“And someone died,” Cale said. “I don’t even know her name!”
Blair wasn’t sure what else to say to him. Cale was clearly upset.
“Her name was Claire. She taught at the elementary school back in Kaiserslautern. Her husband died at the beginning of all of this,” Blair informed him.
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” asked Cale.
Blair had encountered this problem before. Most of the time his tendency to let his mouth run before checking with his brain was limited to conversations with Amanda..
“A
lright. Let’s start over,” Blair took a deep breath. “This was only the first time you’ve lead a mission. You have the skills, but you’ll need to practice.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re wrong,” Cale said.
He removed his rank and offered it back to Blair, who just stared at it.
“It’s not that easy. You can’t just hand that back and quit,” Blair said to him. “What would McGregor think?”
“McGregor?” Cale laughed, “What does that matter? He’s dead. They’re all dead. And the longer I’m around, the more people will die.”
“We’re counting on you here,” Blair told him.
Blair’s office was stuffy in the summer heat. The only light came from the window in an effort to save the generators.
“You know who else counted on me?” asked Cale. “Zach. Zach depended on me.”
“That couldn’t be helped,” Blair interrupted.
“What about Matthew and Adam?” Cale continued.
“Matthew and Adam?” Blair was confused now.
“Two little boys I found in Tel-Aviv. They counted on me too, until I killed them,” Cale was on the verge of yelling now. “They were just kids. Kids! God Damn it! Just like the ones I killed today!”
Maybe Cale was more broken than Blair had thought, but he was sure he could be salvaged.
“Sometimes you’re asked to do things in the line of duty. You did what you had to in order to keep the rest of your team safe, and if you hadn’t, you’d all be dead now.” Blair explained.
Cale just sat, shaking his head.
“We need good soldiers. Soldiers like you, who don’t hesitate, and who get the job done. We need soldiers who feel remorse when they have to take a life. That’s the difference between a soldier and a killer,” lectured Blair.
“You don’t even know me,” Cale objected.
“But I do. I’d go streaking through the streets of Baghdad for you, and I know you’d do the same for me. I need leaders who care about their people. Who don’t see them as simple assets to be sacrificed if the situation warrants it.”
Cale could see his point, but he knew that he wasn’t fit for a leadership role.
“I hear what you’re saying. You need people. I’m not one of them. I don’t want to be here. I just want to go home. Point me in the direction of the nearest port and I’ll go. I don’t even care if I die trying. I just want to go home!” exclaimed Cale.
Blair wasn’t surprised at all by the words. He himself was fortunate enough to have his wife here with him, and they hadn’t had any kids yet. He could only speculate on what Cale was going through, but going by sea was a suicide mission. However, he had some good news for Cale.
“I wasn’t going to say anything until we had it properly scouted, but there is a group of my people who want to take that chance, too, and try to get back to the States,” he explained.
Cale gave Blair his full attention.
“So far we’ve only scouted around the outside of Charles De Gaulle Airport. The area is heavily infected, but if we can clear out a terminal and keep the ones out on the tarmac occupied, we might be able to fuel a plane and get it off the ground. We have three pilots to fly,” stated Blair.
“When is the soonest we could go?” Cale asked eagerly.
Blair took a deep breath and rotated his Masonic ring as he pondered his answer.
“I’ll have to move some resources and some people around. And I’ll have to build a roster of who would want to try for it,” explained Blair.
“How long?” Cale said impatiently.
“Two, maybe three weeks,” answered Blair.
“Could we go any sooner?” Cale asked. “I’ll clear the terminal myself.”
Blair laughed. “Just two weeks. That’s all I need. Okay?”
Cale nodded. He’d waited this long to get home, what was two more weeks?
“You’re still going to be running missions in that time,” Blair informed him.
“By myself?” Cale asked sounding hopeful.
“No, unfortunately not. You, my friend, are destined to lead, and I’m helping you along that path,” boasted Blair.
Cale wasn’t sure what Blair meant, or if what he thought he saw in him would even come to pass. One thing he did know, however, was there was no arguing over it now.
38.
Population 1
There was a tapping at the window. There was always a tapping at the window. Kristie knew that when she looked, she’d see one of her undead nieces there smiling at her.
“Aunt Kree,” the child whispered.
It was what her six-year-old niece called her. When she was learning to talk, she couldn’t say Kristie’s name correctly, so settled for ‘Kree’.
“Aunt Kree,” her haunting little voice said again.
Kristie brought her pillow up over her head to block her out.
“Aunt Kree,” her niece laughed.
Kristie knew the little girl wouldn’t leave her alone. Even through the pillow she could hear her tap against the glass of the second story window. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She’d just have to switch rooms.
“Wake up Aunt Kree,” the girl coaxed.
Kristie got up off her air mattress and tossed her pillow aside. Her nieces would always come to her on nights like these. Nights with no moon, or when it was too cloudy to see the stars. As a child, Kristie had a paralyzing fear of the dark. As an adult she thought of ways to cope with it. One of those ways was ambient light. Even though stars didn’t provide much light, they still helped to put her at ease.
Kristie turned on her keychain LED flashlight and shined it toward the window. Her first few nights alone in the armory had been terrifying, but now that she’d been living here for the last seven months, she was used to these ‘visits’. She imagined her niece’s rotting face occupying the lower corner of the window. Her tiny hand reached up, tapping on the glass. Once the light hit her, she’d duck from view and giggle, as if they were playing hide and seek.
Kristie rubbed her eyes and checked her watch.
“Two in the morning? Great,” she sighed.
Kristie was part of the Colorado National Guard. She and her best friend Natalie had joined right out of high school, and they’d gone to basic training and AIT together. Once they’d graduated 42A school, they joined the same transportation unit, and worked for headquarters as admin. Once the apocalypse kicked off, what was left of her company and a few survivors locked themselves up in the armory. Why the government had an armory in a town with a population of 69 was beyond her. The town didn’t even have a post office, just an old rundown cooperative.
One by one, everyone wanted to venture out and see what had become of the world. The initial infection hadn’t been so bad in the rural parts of Colorado, and eventually she and her friend were all that were left behind. One day, it had proved too much for Natalie, and she just walked right out. Didn’t say a word, not even goodbye. She was just gone. That was four months ago.
Kristie didn’t know for sure if her sister and her two nieces were dead, or undead, but her mind always went to that place. She couldn’t help it. She’d been alone for so long.
“Aunt Kree,” the little voice continued to call out.
“Ruby. Please, not tonight. Just go away, sweetie,” Kristie pleaded.
The little girl giggled. Kristie knew that the perimeter was secure but decided she’d walk it anyway. Her air mattress crinkled as she got up. She’d given up trying to keep her sandy blonde hair off of her collar a long time ago. It had grown to the center of her back. She brushed her greasy mane at least twice a day, and desperately missed the luxury of taking a shower. Kristie slipped on her combat boots, but didn’t bother to tie them. She exited the room that had once been used to counsel soldiers, and entered the main office. She had chosen to move her mattress there because it was the farthest from the armory’s entrance. There were ten closed and locked doors between her and the front door. Just the way she
liked it.
Kristie walked around the cubicles that occupied the center of the room. Her keys jingled on their chain as she unlocked the door and exited the headquarters company area. She passed two doors on her right as she approached the stairs. The first door was to an office and the second to a cleaning closet. Her flashlight illuminated the stairwell, and at the window above the stairs, her niece tapped on the glass.
Kristie ignored her and continued her patrol. Downstairs, the armory was a maze of hallways and offices. Her footsteps echoed as she walked down the hall toward the distance-learning lab. Instead of entering, she turned left. Past the gym and the offices, was where the combat medics would normally have been set up. The hallway ended in a T. To the left was first platoon’s company area. The right hallway would take her by the main entrance and directly to the drill floor. Kristie waited there for a moment. She hated walking by the main entrance. Sometimes there were infected outside, and though they couldn’t get in, they could see her through the glass doors.
She’d done this many times. Kristie shut off her flashlight and counted her steps down the hall to the right. She dragged her left hand across the wall, counting the office doors in her head as she went. The brick wall felt cool and rough.
“One,” she said to herself.
The first office door had belonged to the sergeant major. She could feel the grooves in the wood before she touched the metal doorframe. Then it was back to the cool brick wall. She felt the even gap in between the brick.
“Two.”
This door had belonged to the battalion commander. He never really used this office, as he had one at every armory under his command. This door was smooth with no grooves. Again the brick wall, but this one ended abruptly.
“Three,” she whispered out loud.
This had been the chaplain’s door. He’d been here more frequently than the battalion commander had. Chaplain Troy had been a nice man. Kristie started to see him frequently just before, then during, and after her divorce. She’d married her high school sweetheart. He’d always been a chubby, nerdy kind of guy. That had never bothered her, but once she’d returned from her military training, she realized how incompatible they’d become. Being Catholic, she tried everything she could to save her marriage, but then he started getting jealous. She couldn’t even go out with her nieces and sister without being called a cheating whore. In the end, her husband’s own insecurity is what drove her away. Chaplain Troy never told her what to do. He only listened.
Z Plan (Book 2): Red Tides Page 24