The Uncivil War Series Box Set
Page 63
The hallway was dark, with no windows providing light anywhere. Bald sparked his flashlight to life, and Colt wrapped his rifle strap around his chest and held onto Wesley’s shoulders as they walked.
Colt peered over Bald, following the glow at the end of the beam. There were doorways on each side of them. They were classrooms, or some sort of offices. Colt couldn’t know for certain. Halfway down the hall, Bald stopped.
What is it? Did you hear something? See something? Colt wondered, but Bald didn’t acknowledge the stall, nor did he linger in the same spot for long. He took his next step carefully, then shined his light on the set of doors to their right.
The outline of man was stamped on the placard. Bald nodded, then proceeded inside to make sure there wasn’t a threat waiting. Colt followed close, still holding Wesley.
The bathroom was small, only one urinal and a stall. Bald trained the light on the floor and searched for feet under the door. There were none.
“All clear,” he whispered and put the light to the door, waiting for Wesley to use the light as his guide.
Wesley walked inside the stall, and Colt shut the door behind him, then moved himself to the urinal. A few seconds passed, and Wesley spoke, “Dad.”
“What is it, little man?” Colt whispered.
“I’m done.”
“Okay, come on out.”
Before Colt could say anything else, Wesley flushed the toilet without thinking.
Colt whipped his head around and searched for Bald. A look of desperation and torment hung on his face. Colt opened the stall door as Bald moved to bathroom door, and peered back into the hallway to see if the noise had alerted any infected inside the building.
In the black of the bathroom, Colt reached for Wesley and guided him through the darkness while Bald held his light through the crack. Wesley found the sink, then Colt touched Bald on the shoulder, alerting him they were ready to move.
Bald swung the door open slowly and crept out. But this time Colt didn’t have his hand on Wesley’s shoulder to guide him. Wesley stuck close to Bald as Colt unslung his rifle and stared deep into the empty darkness of the hallway, waiting for a surprise attack.
As they walked, Colt couldn’t help but think about every suspense or horror movie he’d ever seen. This was it. Right when the bad guy or boogieman would leap from darkness and scare the popcorn right out of your lap. But this was no movie. He was living the fear he felt. And with no way of seeing what was coming, Colt prayed they’d see the light of day sooner rather than later.
Bald reached the door and stopped, then whispered over his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Without question,” Colt said.
Even with the sun setting in the sky, the brightness temporarily blinded Colt as he put his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare.
He noticed the plane in the distance. Colonel Jenkins and Dylan were climbing down the ladder, just as a noise rose from the left side. Rolling tires over rocks and debris on the ground. A set of Humvees were driving directly toward their position.
Jacob. Colt smiled. He was there. He really came. Without thought, Colt started walking toward the approaching vehicles, but for some reason the Humvees stopped about 100 yards away, even though there was plenty of concrete in front of them to continue.
Colt stopped walking too. As did the others. Instinct told him to turn and gauge Colonel Jenkins’ reaction. His face wore confusion. Then Colt sought Bald’s eye. All he could do was shrug. Colt returned his attention on the Humvees. Not one person exited.
“What are you waiting for?” Colt said.
It was as if they needed prompting, because at Colt’s words, every Humvee door opened simultaneously. But what hopped out was not who Colt was expecting. It wasn’t Jake. Or any other human soldier.
Infected poured out of the vehicles.
Colt’s eyes bulged in their sockets at this realization. His body rotated instinctually and immediately searched for his sons. He broke from his position and ran to Wesley’s side just as Bald opened fire. Colt waved Dylan toward him. “Dylan, come on!” He pulled Wesley back toward the door of the building.
Dylan hobbled near, and when they reached the door, Colt ripped the door open and pushed his sons inside. Then he gave one last transitory glance toward the two Humvees. Was he mistaken? Could the infected, really be standing there? Driving real life Humvees?
The infected remained standing, staring at Colt, taking position behind the open doors, using them as cover until Bald and Colonel Jenkins stopped shooting, or until they ran out of ammo.
Colt waved at Colonel Jenkins and Bald. “Let’s go. Get inside.” They soon began to run toward him, but he needed to move inside first to find his sons and make sure they weren’t being attacked. By the time he witnessed what was happening outside, the heavy auto-close door had shut. He yanked it open again, and expected to feel his son’s presence, but they weren’t there.
“Dylan? Wesley?” Colt whispered through gritted teeth.
Silence.
His stomach fell. Damnit, where are you?
Colt felt for the wall. He found the left side and ran his fingers across the sheetrock at waist level in search of the first door frame. The sheetrock was coarse on his fingertips, and as he stepped, he came to the first metal door frame. Just as he did, the door burst open from behind as Colonel Jenkins and Bald came rushing in.
Bald flipped the flashlight on. Colt found their eye but was blinded by the flash. Bald lowered his wand and put the light to the floor. They made up the distance and said, “Where are the boys?”
Even with the beam lowered, Colt’s expression was vacant. Something was wrong.
“I’m sure they went into the bathroom. Wesley was probably scared and ran off. Dylan had to follow,” Bald said. “Come on we need to move. We know where he is.”
Bald was probably right. There was no use worrying about it now, Colt knew. They didn’t have the time. But as they walked, Colt couldn’t help but thinking about the scene that had just unfolded outside. Driving? Seriously? How? How could they be driving? How did they know we were here? If Colt had thought deeper, he might have figured out the answer. He had discussed it with Jake a day ago. But his thoughts didn’t go there, because Bald and Colonel Jenkins were forced to a stop before they ever made it to the bathroom door.
Bald guided the beam down the hall, and toward the end. Standing there were Wesley and Dylan. Oh, thank God, Colt was relieved, but just as he made a move to fetch them, he saw something else. An arm draped across their chests and a hand covering their mouths.
Colt swallowed hard. Two infected men were holding them hostage, keeping them from speaking—for calling for help. In the beam, Colt could see tears, riding the wave of despair down their faces.
Colt clenched his fists. He was ready for a fight. He’d kill the infected with his bare hands if it came to that. But before Colt could take his first step, the door opened from behind. And along with the last light of the night, in walked the group of infected.
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In that glimmer of light, Colt raised his rifle and fired toward the door, dropping the first man who entered. From behind him, he could hear two other rifle shots, and then the subtle yelps from his sons. They must’ve been set free. But he couldn’t turn around to see, not yet. More infected would be coming in from outside.
The first infected Colt had dropped blocked the doorway, leaving it cracked and allowing just enough light to shine in so he could see, at least until the sun finally fell behind the horizon for good that night. Another infected entered, and again, Colt fired, dropping him atop the other the instant his head came into view.
“Come on you, bastards, keep coming.” Colt didn’t expect they would. Soon they’d wise up and stop walking into their own deaths.
Another three-round burst rang out from behind him. Bald and Colonel Jenkins were taking down more.
Only one other infected tried his luck through the back door. Colt made shor
t work of him too, but just as the infected fell, the last round flew from the chamber of his rifle. He was empty. Immediately, he felt for his pockets. There was no brass left. Colt backed up and spun around to witness the action from the opposite side of the hall. Bald had just shot two more infected who were circling toward them. Colonel Jenkins was holding both Dylan and Wesley across their chests now.
Colt bent down. In the orange glow of the flashlight’s beam, he could see tears fresh on their faces. He lifted Wesley from the floor, then leaned into Colonel Jenkins and said, “I’m out of ammo.”
“Me too.” A look of desperation hung on his face.
Colt searched for an escape route. There was a doorway, directly beside Bald. Colt reached for the handle. It was open.
Colonel Jenkins shined his light inside. It was a classroom. Multiple tables lined the room, with a white board spanning across the opposite end. At once, Colt set Wesley down and began flipping the tables over and stacking them close to the door. As soon as Bald fired his last shot—he had to be running low—they would barricade the door.
At that, Bald sprinted through the opening and yelled, “Close it! Close it! They’re coming!” Colonel Jenkins slammed the door shut, and Colt pushed the first table in front of the door. Then they grabbed another, and another until they had stacked them midway up the frame.
From three feet off the frame, Bald flashed his light through the rectangular window carved inside the door, and it showcased multiple infected lining up against the outside. But only one of them was smiling, as if he knew they had them trapped.
Colt, Bald, and Colonel Jenkins backed into the center of the room. Each gripped his weapon and wouldn’t let go.
“I hate to be the one to say this but . . .” Bald stalled. “I’m out of ammo.”
“Me too,” Colt said.
Bald locked eyes with Colonel Jenkins, who could do nothing but shake his head no.
Stuck without an exit—without ammunition—they were trapped.
Crash!
The window inside the doorway shattered and the first of the tables was pushed over. The infected were plowing through.
Colt grabbed his sons close, not knowing what to expect. Not knowing when help would come.
Uh, Jake, now would be a good time for you and the cavalry to show up.
It was at that moment that they heard more gunfire.
“What was that?” Dylan said with hope in his voice.
No one wanted to speak in case it had been a random boom. They wondered if they had only imagined the sound of shooting. But then another shot came, and another. Once again, Colt looked to the doorway. It seemed the infected had stopped trying to breach the door.
“That, my friend, is the cavalry,” Colonel Jenkins smiled down at Dylan.
Colt unhooked his arms from his boys and crept forward.
“What are you doing?” Bald forced out.
Colt didn’t answer. He needed to make sure the threat was gone. He needed to feel safety for his boys. As he came closer, Bald and Colonel Jenkins shined their lights from behind, showing Colt the way. He stepped on a glass shard, and it crunched beneath his feet. He stopped only briefly, but when he looked down, more surrounded his feet. His eye didn’t linger on the floor long. Instead, he studied the vacant frame where the glass had once been. Open to the hallway, it was dark, but he could see, at least a little. He stepped closer now and leaned.
“What is it? What do you see?” Colonel Jenkins said.
Colt spun his head around and was about to speak, but then something grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward the door. It was an infected. An infected man was yanking him into the door.
Colt pounded down on the arm that was gripping him with both fists, but the hold was too tight. Bald and Colonel Jenkins ran to Colt’s side, shoving the butts of their rifles into the arm of the infected.
When the infected finally released his grip, all three men fell to their backsides. Bald raised his light to the rectangular window to witness the infected man standing there. The infected lowered his head through the open hole and said, “I’m coming in.”
Epilogue
“Fire! Twelve o’clock,” Marine Gunnery Sergeant, Clayton Lund said over the radio.
“I see him, sir, but there’s too many. They’re attacking from all angles,” Staff Sergeant Marcus McGovern said.
“Do you have eyes on the package?” Lund said.
“Negative, sir,” McGovern said. “We saw the last of them fleeing inside the building when we came upon the scene. We couldn’t see who it was, but they were human. Not infected. It looked as though the remaining infected from the Humvees turned and scattered at our first shots. There’s a pileup of infected in front of the side door, at least I think that’s what I see. Tough to say in this light, sir.”
“Do you think we can breach the side of the building, find our assets?” Lund said.
“No sir. There’s more coming. Multiple more infected. An army of those sons of bitches. I think the two Humvees were just the distraction. I’ve seen multiple hostiles that ran from the trees, and all are moving in on the structure.”
“Fine then. Hold off as many as you can. I’ll alert home base.”
Lund reached for his satellite phone and dialed. The phone rang once, then a man picked up the open line. “Operator,” the man said.
“Operator, this is Gunnery Sergeant Clayton Lund. We’re at the rally point. We’re taking heavy action from the infected. There was a breach, sir. I don’t know how, but I assume the infected interrupted the transmission between you and the plane. It looked as though there were at least two stolen Humvees filled with infected. Our boys walked right into a damn trap.”
“Do you have eyes on the prize?” the voice said.
“Negative. They’re holed up inside a building—a structure just near the runway. I assume all are inside, but we cannot know if they’re still alive. And with the sun setting and no power, I don’t think we can mount a search. Not in this situation, sir. It’s too risky.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then the voice came back. “What are you saying, Gunny?”
Lund didn’t want to say the words. They weren’t in his nature. But by all accounts, he couldn’t risk his men. Not since they didn’t have proof of life.
“Honestly, sir, we need more firepower. More men. Maybe an extract with the chopper.”
“The chopper is out on assignment. We don’t have any idea when it will return. Can you hold the infected off?”
“Sure, but for how long? Once nightfall hits, we won’t be able to see the infected as they attack. We’ll be firing blind, sir.”
“You just do what you can. For as long as it takes. The vice president is in there. He is priority to this mission, understand? We cannot leave him. We cannot fail to offer support. We’re counting on you and your team to battle through the night.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Once we get wind of the chopper returning to base, we’ll refuel the bird and put her back in flight. We hope to see her soon, but she’s out on mission and we can’t raise her. There is another package, too important to leave behind. Do you hear me, Gunny?”
“Loud and clear, sir. We’ll do what we can here.”
“I expect nothing less. Not from a Marine.”
“Thank you, sir. If anything changes and we get eyes on the prize, we will radio back to base.”
“Thank you, Lund. Be careful, marine, and God be with all of you.”
UNCIVIL WAR: RECKONING
Book Five
Wright & Dudycha
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Sample: Uncivil War: Reckoning
Chapter 1
The helicopter hovered high above the Emergency Operations Center at Mount Weather, Virginia. Jake Maddox looked out over the mountains, they were majestic and grand. Dark clouds had moved in above them. The pilot said the radar looked like a fairly major storm was rolling in. Jake moved his gaze from the mountains
to the parking lot outside the above ground buildings. The number of aliens had grown since they’d left to go pick up his brother Colt a couple of hours ago. And it looked as if they’d grown substantially. There were hundreds, if not thousands of them now.
Jake then turned his attention inside the helicopter. It was good to see his brother Colt and his two sons. Dylan and Wesley had changed entirely in the couple of years it had been since he’d seen them. Colt had changed too, but only in the graceful way a man who spends time in the sun would. Lines had begun forming on his rugged face, and what used to be dark brown ends of some of his whiskers were starting to show sprouts of white. Jake wasn’t really old enough for grays, but he imagined if he spent too many more days like the last week had gone, they’d be visiting him soon as well.
The helicopter dipped down and began its decent to the top of the roof. As the four of them exited the helicopter, the boys were excited to have a place to settle for a bit. But Jake could see the torment swimming in Colt’s eyes that was lingering from the loss of his wife. He and the boys would feel that for the rest of their lives. As if living in the world wasn’t hard enough, it had to be compounded by another species coming for what was theirs. As the boys and Colt went inside to take the elevator down to the bunker, Jake detoured over to the side of the building.
The sea of infected humans—aliens—was vast. They were shoulder to shoulder, just standing and waiting for Jake, or anyone like him to come along and make a mistake. Jake was anxious to talk to Amy. The aliens’ Element Zero, as they called her. He wanted to learn everything he could about the aliens from her, because he was ready to take the fight right back to them. Now that Emily and the other doctor had figured out how to rid the people of the alien inside them, he was chomping at the bit to get at them. They had taken enough from humanity, and it was time to take some of that humanity back.
Colt walked up and stood beside Jake. “What do you think they want?”