Three more deaders fell into the elevator and charged the opening. MacIntyre took down the first with a single round to the head, slowing the other two. More entered the elevator.
“Go!” she snapped.
Hoskins saluted and took off down the corridor.
MacIntyre kept firing on the deaders until she ran out of ammunition. As she changed magazines, three deaders surged through the elevator doors and attacked, feeding on her left leg and arms.
Hoskins reached the end of the corridor when he heard MacIntyre scream amidst the feeding frenzy. He turned in time to see three deaders ravaging her. Taking aim, the lieutenant fired two rounds into MacIntyre’s head, putting the soldier out of her misery.
The gunfire caught the deaders’ attention. As one, they turned toward Hoskins and charged. The lieutenant emptied his magazine into them and bolted out the emergency exit. As he rounded the building, switching out cartridges as he ran, he heard the door slam open and the pack charge after him. This one would be close.
Alissa saw Hoskins race around the corner of the building.
“They’re almost here,” she yelled to Ramirez.
Boyce stood above her, centered in the emergency exit. “Where’s MacIntyre?”
Hoskins waved for Alissa to get into the bus. She wondered why until four deaders circled the corner in pursuit of the lieutenant.
Boyce could not fire without risking hitting Hoskins. Alissa took five steps to the left, aimed her carbine at the closest deader, and fired a single shot. The round took it down. She switched to the next closest, killing it with two rounds.
By now, Hoskins had gotten close enough to the bus that Boyce could bring down the last two.
“Where’s MacIntyre?” he asked.
“She didn’t make it.” Hoskins jumped into the back of the bus. “Alissa, get in here. Now.”
Before she could ask why, three more deaders rounded the corner of the school. Hoskins and Boyce each took a hand and lifted her on board a second before the pack reached the bus. A deader in a sheriff deputy’s uniform tried to crawl in. Alissa kicked it in the face, propelling it backward and knocking over the others. Boyce used the opportunity to close and secure the emergency exit.
Two more deaders raced around the corner.
Hoskins headed for the front of the bus. “Let’s go.”
“No complaints here.” Ramirez shifted into drive and pressed his foot on the accelerator.
The rear wheels spun, unable to gain traction in the snow.
Chapter Seven
“I thought this fucking thing had a plow,” snapped Hoskins.
“It does.” Ramirez remained calm. “But a plow isn’t going to do anything for the two feet of snow that collected around the tires.”
As they talked, the five deaders from inside the school, joined by two more, descended on the bus. They snarled and scratched at the windows, desperate to get at the food inside.
Alissa lowered one of the side windows to shoot at them, but Boyce stopped her.
“Don’t waste your ammo.”
Ramirez shifted into reverse and gunned the engine, forcing the bus backward into the snow. It moved a few inches before stopping. Ramirez shifted into drive and gunned the engine a second time. The bus lurched forward, gaining a little momentum. He continued the rocking motion.
“What’s that?” asked Ken, who stood behind the driver’s seat.
“Where?”
“Up ahead of us.”
Hoskins reached down and flicked on the bus’s headlights. The beam fell upon eight snow-encrusted deaders pushing through the storm toward them.
“Calm down,” Ramirez grinned. “I got this.”
On the fourth rock forward, the rear tires gained traction and moved forward three feet. Once off the compacted snow, the vehicle lurched forward and gained speed. The deaders along the side ran with it, frantic to keep up. Most slipped, a couple falling under the bus where the wheels ran over them. Ramirez had accelerated to fifteen miles an hour when the blades of the plow hit the deaders in front of them, not enough to kill or immobilize them, only shove them out of the way. At the end of the building, Ramirez maneuvered around to the front parking lot, accelerated through onto the access road leading off the grounds, and turned left onto Pendleton Point Road.
Alissa made her way to the rear of the vehicle and looked out. She knew the deaders were following, but Ramirez had put enough distance between them that the living dead would find it difficult to follow them. She made her way to the front of the bus.
As Alissa passed by Susie, the little girl tugged on her coat sleeve. “Aunt Alissa?”
“Yes?” She crouched to be at eye level with her.
“Thank you for saving us.”
“You’re welcome.” Alissa cupped Susie’s cheek in her hand. “But we have to rescue a few more people before we can get off this island. Is that okay?”
Susie smiled bravely and nodded. Alissa kissed her on the forehead and continued to the front of the bus.
“How much longer?” Hoskins asked Ramirez.
“The hospital is two miles up this road.”
“Good. I’ll let Costas know we’re on our way.”
As Hoskins moved to the rear to contact the hospital, Boyce tapped Alissa on the arm. “Did you notice something strange about those deaders outside the school?”
“You mean moving so slow?”
“They were all runners when they reached the school yesterday,” said Ramirez.
“I think we found a secret weapon against them.” Ken smiled. “They can’t function in cold.”
“Neither can I.” Ramirez chuckled. “I wanted to retire in Florida.”
“You might get your chance,” said Alissa. “If the snow and cold immobilizes those things, we stand a chance of getting off this island alive.”
* * *
Saunders jarred himself awake from a nap. He reached for his weapon, realizing he did not need it.
“Are you okay, sir?” asked Ames.
The captain shifted in his chair to relieve the pressure on his rear. “My leg’s killing me, and it’s as cold as Hell in here.”
“I doubt it’s very cold in Hell,” responded Ames good-naturedly.
“It doesn’t matter. I’d rather be there than here.”
“Soon enough, sir.”
“I hope so. How long has it been since we last heard from the retrieval team?”
“It hasn’t been an hour yet.”
“Shit.” Saunders glanced out the windows. “Any signs of deaders?”
“Nothing. But this storm is so thick, they could be ten feet out and I wouldn’t see them.”
Saunders stood, groaning when he put pressure on his wounded leg. It felt numb, almost as if it were asleep. He limped around, trying to get the blood flowing.
“Let’s hope that damn bus gets here soon.”
* * *
Consciousness came slowly to Chris. He recalled a gust of wind tilting the helicopter to one side and the resulting accident. He didn’t feel fire around him, so the helicopter hadn’t burst into flames during the crash and he hadn’t died. Yet.
He felt himself suspended in mid-air with something pushing against his chest and thighs. For a moment, his addled brain couldn’t figure out where he was. When Chris opened his eyes, he realized he still sat in his seat near the starboard door of the Seahawk, only the helicopter lay on its port side and he hovered ten feet in the air.
“Good. You’re alive.” Robson had unbuckled himself and checked on the co-pilot.
“I’m beginning to think nothing can kill me. I’ll come through the apocalypse being physically worn away bit by bit.” Chris reached for his seatbelt catch.
“Hang on. I’ll help you down in a minute.”
“Okay.” Chris motioned toward the co-pilot. “How’s Frank?”
“He didn’t make it. The crash snapped his neck.”
“I’m sorry.”
Robson said a silent pra
yer over his fallen comrade. “At least he died doing what he loved.”
Robson made his way out of the cockpit and into the main troop compartment, being careful not to twist his ankle on the debris littering the area. He centered himself beneath Chris, made sure he had good footing, and wrapped his arms around Chris’ legs.
“Unbuckle yourself and hold on to your seat. I’ll help lower you down.”
It took two awkward minutes to get Chris from his perch. If Robson had been Alissa, Chris might have enjoyed it more. Once safely on solid ground, Robson let go. Chris leaned against the rear wall, supporting himself on his good leg. The bandages over the wound in his right leg felt moist and a trickle of blood ran down his skin.
“How bad is it?” Robson pointed to Chris’ leg.
“I think the stitches came undone. I’ll live.”
“Good.” Robson smiled. “This mission has ruined my accreditation as a pilot.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you a five-star review on Yelp.”
“You know what they say. If you can walk away from one of my landings—”
“—it’s a miracle.”
Both men laughed, breaking the tension.
“Should we call the others and let them know we’re down for the count?”
“Can’t. The radio got trashed in the crash. I have no way to contact them.”
“Which means they don’t know we’re out of commission.”
“Exactly.” Robson leaned against the pilot’s chair. “We’re safe for now. We’re protected from the elements and I don’t smell aviation fuel, so we’re in no danger of catching on fire. The others know we were heading to the airfield, so we sit tight until they come for us.”
“If they come for us.”
“From what I’ve seen of your friend Alissa, she won’t leave us behind.”
Chris nodded, though a part of him wondered if once she had rescued Nathan would he become her only priority.
* * *
“We have a problem,” said Ramirez.
Alissa and Hoskins joined him.
“What’s wrong?” asked the lieutenant.
Ramirez pointed ahead of the bus. The weight of the snow had snapped a dead tree and it now lay across the road, blocking their path.
“Can we push it out of the way?” asked Alissa.
“Maybe if I could push one end aside, but the center is across the road.”
“Can we take another route?”
Ramirez shook his head. “This is the only way.”
“How far are we from the hospital?” asked Hoskins.
“A quarter of a mile, maybe less.”
“Then we walk from here.”
“All of us?” Patricia grew alarmed.
“No. Just me, Alissa, and Ken. The rest of you stay here. Ramirez and Boyce, protect the women.” Hoskins handed Ramirez MacIntyre’s carbine and a spare magazine. “Have you ever shot one of these?”
“I’ve shot a hunting rifle.”
“Close enough.”
“What about me?” asked Patricia.
The lieutenant handed her the Glock 23.
Patricia looked over the sidearm. “Where’s the safety?”
“The safety’s in the trigger. All you have to do is aim and shoot.”
The woman nodded her understanding.
Alissa knelt on the seat in front of Susie and held her hands. “Don’t worry, hon. We’ll come back for you.”
“I know you will. I trust you.” Susie stood and kissed Alissa on the cheek.
Hoskins tapped Ramirez on the shoulder. “Where is the hospital from here?”
“The Baptist church and the Post Office are up ahead. The hospital is a quarter of a mile beyond that on the left. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Hoskins turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
Ramirez opened the side door and the three set off in the blizzard up the main road.
* * *
Costas called everyone into the bathroom to brief them. It was cramped, but at least they could talk without drawing attention from the deaders outside the room.
“Hoskins is on his way to get us out of here. We have to be ready to go once they arrive.”
“What about Nathan?” asked Rebecca. “He’s still unconscious.”
“I can carry him,” said Costas. “What are the chances of him turning.”
“If he hasn’t by now, I doubt he will,” offered Kiera.
“That’s good enough for me.”
“Is there any way we can put a muzzle on the dog?” asked Murphy. “If he starts barking, he’ll bring the deaders down on us.”
Rebecca thought for a moment. “I can wrap gauze around his mouth.”
Kiera chuckled. “Good luck with that. He’s not going to like it.”
“He’ll have to put up with it until we get to the bus.”
* * *
Even though only a quarter of a mile, it seemed like a twenty-mile hike between the cold, trudging through two-and-a-half feet of snow, and the wind blowing in their faces. If Alissa made it through the outbreak, she promised herself she would retire to the southwest.
Eventually, they reached the hospital. From the corner of the road, they checked out the grounds. Four cars sat parked out by the main entrance, snow-covered mounds in the otherwise flat surface. Two National Guard Humvees stood behind the cars, their doors open. An ambulance sat at the outer edge of the parking lot adjacent to the road. At least a dozen deaders filled the parking lot, immobile and covered in snow like at the school.
“At least they’re not runners,” said Ken.
Hoskins shook his head. “They still pose a threat when we try to get into the hospital. There are too many for the three of us to take down with knives, and I don’t want to waste ammo on them. We’re limited as it is.”
Alissa shivered. “What are we going to do?”
“I have an idea. Follow me.”
Hoskins backed into the woods ten feet, moved along the tree line until the ambulance blocked his view of the deaders, then cut back across the road. When they reached the ambulance, the lieutenant gently rapped on the exterior. Nothing responded from inside. Moving around to the rear of the vehicle, he raised his carbine and motioned for Alissa to open the doors. She did.
The ambulance was empty.
Alissa and Ken climbed in. After scanning the deaders in the parking lot to make certain they had not been noticed, Hoskins joined them and quietly closed the doors behind him.
“It’s nice to get out of the storm,” said Ken.
“Enjoy it while it lasts. It’ll only be for a few minutes.” Hoskins rummaged through the bins.
“There are too many deaders out front to enter through there, and my guess is the lobby and first floor are swarming with them.”
Alissa rubbed her hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. “Our best bet is to go in through the emergency exit on the left end of the building.”
“I agree.” Hoskins withdrew a bottle of alcohol and placed it on the floor. “Which room is your friend located in?”
“Second floor, front left corner.”
“According to Costas, there’s a pack of deaders on the second floor we’ll have to contend with, as well as what’s on the first floor.” Hoskins moved over to the stretcher and pulled the case off the pillow.
“Does he know how many?” asked Ken.
“He’s not sure. At least six to eight.”
Alissa shifted on the stretcher. “Tough, but doable.”
“I’m worried about the ammo situation. Depending on how many there are on the first floor, we’re going to use a lot clearing them out.”
Hoskins doused one end of the pillowcase in alcohol and laid it on the floor. “Does anyone have a lighter or matches?”
“I gave up smoking years ago,” said Ken.
“What are you doing?” asked Alissa.
“Taking care of the deaders in the parking lot.”
Hoskins moved
to the driver’s portion of the ambulance and searched the seats and dashboard. He opened the glove compartment and withdrew a pack of Camel cigarettes with a lighter wedged between the cardboard and the plastic wrapper. He removed it. “Thank God for bad habits.”
Alissa and Ken stared at each, confused.
Hoskins crouched and removed the radio from his pocket. “Costas, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Where are you?”
“In the parking lot. We’re coming in to get you in a minute. Move when you get the signal.”
“What signal?”
Hoskins smiled. “Trust me. You’ll know it. See you in a few.”
“Roger that. Good luck.”
Hoskins slid the radio back into his pocket and turned to the others. “Circle around the parking lot so the deaders don’t see you and head for the emergency entrance. I’ll give you five minutes and then I’ll join you.”
Alissa opened the rear doors and stepped out. None of the deaders had moved. She motioned for Ken to follow and they trudged off through the snow. Hoskins crouched by the rear bumper, keeping an eye on the pack.
* * *
Costas handed the radio to Murphy. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
The sergeant and Rogers untied Nathan’s hands and legs from the bedpost, using the restraints to lace them together. Costas took a roll of gauze from the nightstand and wrapped it around Nathan’s mouth.
“What about my weapons?” whispered Rogers.
“I’ll take them,” said Kiera.
Rogers glanced over at the sergeant for permission.
“Do you know how to use them?” asked Costas.
“No offense,” said Rebecca. “But she’s probably as good a shot as you.”
Kiera grinned and nodded.
“They’re yours.”
Kiera took the Sig Sauer. “Is there a round in the chamber?”
“Of course.”
She slid the weapon between her jeans and the small of her back, then took the carbine. She switched off the safety, made certain it was in semi-automatic mode, and stood by the door with the barrel aimed at the floor.
Costas looked at the other soldiers and nodded his approval.
Nurse Alissa vs. The Zombies | Book 6 | Rescue Page 5