Woody continued straight with the other vehicles in tow. Brad broke off into the parking lot, crushing three deaders on his first pass. He made three more sweeps through the lot before eliminating all of them.
Ames ran outside, waving his hands to catch their attention. The convoy stopped with the bus nearest the building. Murphy and Rogers piled out of the last Humvee, the latter guarding the rear of the convoy and the former making his way to the front. Kiera manned the hatch-mounted machine gun and guarded their left flank. Alissa and Woody left their vehicles to join those at the bus, with Costas watching the right flank.
Saunders limped out and made his way through the deep snow. He stumbled after a few feet and fell face down into a drift. Ames and Hoskins rushed over to help. Boyce jumped off the bus and joined them.
“Is he alright?” asked the medic.
“I’m fine,” snapped Saunders as the others lifted him to his feet. “It’s just a leg wound. Almost freezing to death didn’t help.”
“Sorry, sir,” apologized Hoskins.
“It’s not your fault.”
Boyce gave the leg a cursory look. “Get him on board.”
Hoskins and Ames helped Saunders on the bus and placed him in the front seat opposite Susie and Patricia. He grimaced as he sat, then glanced toward the back.
“Is this everyone?”
“Yes, sir. The rest are in the Humvee, including the patient. We lost Sergeant MacIntyre and one civilian who came back to help.”
“Dammit.”
Boyce knelt in front of Saunders. “Let me have a look at that leg.”
“I thought you left with the others.”
“I did. The survivors are waiting for us at Belfast Airport.”
“How did you get here?”
“A Navy helicopter flew us back,” said Alissa. “We haven’t heard from him in hours. We still need to find him and Chris.”
“Who’s Chris?”
“The civilian who went back to Mass General to obtain the blood samples,” explained Hoskins.
“How did that go?”
“They retrieved the blood samples, but all the military members on that team were killed.”
“We’re having a fucking cheery day, aren’t we?”
Boyce used a pair of scissors to cut open the pants leg. “How bad does it hurt, sir?”
“I can barely feel my leg.”
“You have a severe case of frostbite.”
“Am I going to lose it?”
“It depends on whether we can get you appropriate medical care.”
“Then I guess I’m screwed.” Saunders turned to Hoskins. “What now?”
“You’re in charge, sir.”
Saunders shook his head. “You’ve done an excellent job so far. I assume you’ve worked out an exit plan.”
“We have. We still need to find our missing people, then we’ll grab a boat and join the others back in Belfast. Which reminds me.” The lieutenant turned to Ames. “Take Murphy and Rogers and see if there are any boats around we can commandeer.”
“Don’t bother.” Saunders twisted in his seat and placed his leg on the empty one beside him. “We did that during the evacuation. We found only one usable boat, and the others took that to escape.”
Alissa sighed. “Then we’re stuck here until help arrives, whenever that is.”
“Not necessarily.” Ramirez joined them. “There’s a marina on the southern part of the island. A small tugboat is docked there. We use it to break up ice around the ferry route in the winter. It’s probably still there. We could get away in that.”
Hoskins turned to his CO. “What do you think, sir?”
“This is your show now.” Saunders pointed to his leg. “I’m out of action.”
“Okay. Let’s find our missing people.”
“That might be a problem,” said Ramirez. “Assuming they didn’t crash, there are a lot places they could have set down, mostly open fields not accessible by road.”
Alissa grew concerned. “Robson said he was heading for the airfield. How far is that from here?”
“We passed it. We can check it out on the way back.”
“It’s settled,” said Hoskins. “We go to the airfield, hopefully retrieve our missing people, then head for the marina.”
Woody nodded. “I know where the entrance is.”
“Let’s move, people. I want to be off this island by noon.”
Alissa and Woody returned to their vehicles. Costas rounded up Murphy and Rogers and joined them in the last Humvee.
As Alissa climbed into her vehicle, Kiera lowered herself into the troop compartment and closed the hatch.
“Did we get who we needed to?” asked Rebecca.
“Yes, but the CO’s leg is in bad shape. He may lose it.”
“That sucks.” Kiera grimaced. “What now?”
“We think we have a way off the island. First, we’re going to find Robson and Chris.”
“Do we have to?” asked Nathan.
Alissa shifted in her seat and glared at him.
Nathan leaned his head back and winked. “I’m kidding. Stop being so serious.”
After clearing the parking lot of the living dead, Brad pulled his truck alongside of Woody. Both trucks made a U-turn and led the convoy back the way they had come.
* * *
Five minutes later, Woody turned right off West Bay Road onto an access road surrounded by trees. A few seconds later, they entered the parking lot of the island’s airport.
Ben pointed to the snow-covered remains of the crashed helicopter lying in its side. “I think we found them.”
“Let’s hope they’re still alive.” Woody gave a long blare on the air horn.
Chris lifted his head. “Did you hear that?”
“I did.” Robson crouched down and peered through the helicopter’s shattered windscreen. Two trucks plowed their way toward them. “Someone is coming to save us. I told you not to give up hope.”
Chris closed his eyes and prayed Alissa was one of them.
When the plows veered right, Alissa saw the crashed helicopter. Her heart raced. They had found them. Now she hoped Chris would be alive.
She pulled the Humvee alongside the Seahawk, shifted into park, and jumped out. Running over, she dropped into the snow and stared through the shattered glass.
“Chris, are you there?”
Chris pushed himself off the back of the seat and stood in the opening. “Alissa, is that you?”
“Yes. I’m glad to see you’re alive.”
Robson leaned over so he could be seen. “I’m alive, too, thank you very much.”
A feeling of embarrassment filled Alissa, which turned into shame when she saw the body of Frank hanging from the co-pilot’s seat.
Woody joined Alissa and examined the cockpit. “There’s too much damage for you to get out this way. Can you climb through the door?”
Robson pointed to Chris. “He’ll never make it. His leg is wounded. And to be honest, my legs and hands are too cold to do any climbing.”
“Hang tight. We’ll have you out of there in a few minutes.” Woody headed back to the Mack.
Alissa leaned closer. “Are either of you hurt?”
“Just my leg,” answered Chris.
“And freezing our asses off,” added Robson.
“Don’t worry. The school bus is warm. Be right back.”
Robson grinned. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Alissa joined the others. Hoskins had deployed his troops, including himself, to guard each flank of the work area. Woody climbed into the Mack and backed it up so its rear was perpendicular to the helicopter. Ben removed a chain twenty feet in length with hooks on both ends. He attached one end of the chain to the ball mount on the rear chassis of the Mack and wrapped the other around the port landing gear of the helicopter, securing it in place with the hook. He banged on the underside of the helicopter.
“We’re going to pull this thing over so it’s sitting
upright. I’d hang on to something.”
“Roger that,” called out Robson.
Ben moved out of the way and circled around to the front of the Mack, signaling Woody. Woody inched the truck forward. The chain grew taught. Ben waved him to continue. The Seahawk teetered. Inside, Chris and Robson held on tightly to the seats. A moment later, the helicopter fell over, landing heavily on its landing gear.
“That was almost as good as my landing,” joked Robson.
Chris grunted due to the throbbing in his leg.
As Ben unhooked the chain, Alissa ran over and jumped inside, dropping to her knees and hugging Chris.
“I worried when we didn’t hear from you.”
Chris embraced her, holding her for several seconds. “A gust of wind tipped us over as we landed. We probably wouldn’t be alive if Robson hadn’t been such a good pilot.”
“Now you’re nice to me.” Robson stepped up to Chris and offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and into some place warm.”
Alissa and Robson helped him across the deck to the door. Boyce waited outside where he assisted Chris in climbing out. Boyce and Robson each wrapped an arm around their shoulders and escorted Chris to the bus. Alissa stayed close.
Once on the bus, Boyce lowered Chris into the seat behind Patricia and Susie and gestured for Robson to take the seat opposite. He quickly checked both men.
“Are we going to lose fingers and toes?” asked Robson.
“I don’t think so. You both have mild hypothermia but being on the bus will help.”
Chris patted his leg. “What about the wound?”
“I don’t want to remove the bandage until we’re back at a medical facility. It’ll be safer that way.”
“Without the chopper, how are we going to get there? It’ll be a few days before the Iwo Jima can send anyone to help.”
“We have that covered,” said Alissa. “There’s a marina down south with a tug. We’re going to use it to get to the mainland.”
“I hope someone knows how to operate it,” said Robson.
Shit. Alissa had not thought of that before.
Chris held Alissa’s hand. “What about Nathan and the others?”
“We rescued them all. Kiera and Rebecca are fine. And Nathan is conscious.”
“What about Shithead?”
“He’s fine. He’ll turn himself inside out when he sees you.”
“Good.”
Woody boarded the bus. “We’re all set.”
“You know how to get there?” Alissa asked.
“We both do,” answered Ramirez.
“One second.” Alissa held Chris’ cheeks in her hands and kissed him. “See you aboard the tug.”
She stepped off the bus and made her way back to her Humvee, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“How’s Chris?” Kiera asked with a little too much concern.
“Chris and the pilot are both well. Unfortunately, the co-pilot died in the crash.”
Rebecca mumbled a silent prayer.
Ahead of them, Woody and Brad circled the trucks around the remains of the helicopter and drove back to the exit. The rest of the convoy fell in behind. Once back on West Bay Road, they turned right and proceeded south.
* * *
The surviving deaders that the convoy had plowed through at Islesboro had set off after the retreating vehicles, the desperate need for food driving the useless chase. The same instinct that drove them relentlessly after the prey would have kept them on Main Road and diverted them to the northern part of Warren Island. However, two and a half feet of snow blocked the road. The branch that bore left – West Bay Road – had been cleared earlier by the convoy and offered the path of least assistance. The horde staggered in that direction.
Directly into the path of the approaching convoy.
Chapter Eleven
Both trucks rounded the bend into a horde of over two hundred deaders. Woody pressed his foot on the gas pedal. The Mack lurched forward, clearing fifty to sixty of the living dead. Caught by surprise, Brad swerved to the right to avoid hitting them. His truck slammed into the accumulated snow along the side of the road and dropped down the embankment. The rest of the convoy stopped, with Alissa’s Humvee being closest to the stuck vehicle.
The surviving deaders converged on them.
Woody grabbed the microphone from the dashboard and keyed the talk button.
“Brad, are you okay?”
No answer.
“Can you hear me, Brad?”
Still no answer.
Woody opened the driver’s door and started to get out when Ben grabbed his arm.
“You need to drive this thing or none of us are getting out of here. I’ll check on them.”
Ben threw open his door and started to climb out. A deader in its underwear stumbled toward him. Ben kicked it in the face, breaking its jaw. It staggered back a few feet. Ben jumped to the road, slipping on the compacted snow and falling onto his knees. Before he could stand, the underwear deader lunged, knocking him over and pinning him to the ground.
From Alissa’s position, she could see deaders bearing down on them from the left. They did not have much time. She opened the door, grabbed her carbine, and jumped out, then leaned back into the cab.
“Kiera—”
“I got this.” Kiera had slid open the hatch and manned the machine gun.
Alissa circled around behind the Mack. Ben lay in the snow to her left, a deader clawing at him. Three more closed in. She changed direction and went to help.
Hoskins cursed their luck when he saw the plow on the right swerve and go off the road. Then he noticed the deaders descending on the crash site. He grabbed his carbine with one hand and the radio with the other.
“Costas, we need firepower up here.”
Before waiting for a reply, the lieutenant opened the sliding door to the bus and jumped onto the road.
“Costas, we need firepower up here.”
Costas, Murphy, and Rogers exited their Humvee at the rear of the line and rushed in to join the fray.
The underwear deader had its upper jaw pressed against Ben’s arm but could not bite through because of the shattered lower half. Alissa raced up and kicked it in the face, knocking it backward. Raising her carbine, she a single round into its head, then did the same for the three closest deaders. Ben had begun to crawl to his feet. Alissa wrapped her free hand around his arm and helped him to the truck.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Save your friends so we can get out of here.”
As Alissa took up guard position by the front fender, Ben jumped onto the running board and peered inside.
“Brad, are you okay?”
“Yes.” Brad leaned over the passenger seat, unbuckling the belt. “Gary hit his head and is unconscious. Help me get him out.”
Ben jumped down, rushed around to the other side, and opened the door. Brad had unbuckled Gary and held him upright by the collar so the man didn’t fall out. He moved over into the passenger seat and grabbed Gary by his underarms.
“Take his legs and pull him out.”
Woody watched the rescue from behind his steering wheel when he heard a snarl to his left. A deader he recognized as his next-door neighbor closed in on him. Woody kicked the door all the way open, smashing the outer surface against its face. Shutting it so nothing could get to him, he shifted into gear and drove forward three hundred feet. Several of the deaders followed, clasping at the side of the truck to get at the food inside.
When the Mack pulled away, it allowed Kiera a clear field of fire. She released controlled bursts, taking out any deaders that neared the snow-bound truck or the Humvee. More than a hundred still bore down on them in the right lane. She knew she did not have enough ammunition to eliminate them all.
Hoskins reached the truck as Brad and Ben removed Gary from the cab. The others joined him a few seconds later.
“Is he alive?” asked the lieutenant.
“Just knocked himself out in the accident,” responded Brad.
“Get him on the bus.”
Kiera aimed at a bloated deader in a grey sweatshirt and Red Sox baseball cap, the former pushed up to its chest by the extended stomach. A round struck its abdomen, tearing off the upper torso. Undigested human flesh spewed from the ruptured stomach onto the blood-stained snow, sending the stench of bodily fluids and gases wafting over the road. The last three rounds caught the deader in its head, shattering it. The body collapsed.
The belt to the machine gun no longer showed.
“Is there another case of ammo down there?”
Rebecca searched the twin seat wells in back as well as the rear deck. “Nothing.”
“Shit.” Kiera banged on the Humvee’s roof to attract Alissa’s attention. “I’m out of ammo. Get back to the Humvee.”
“I’m covering the others.”
“They’re heading to the school bus.”
Without the fire from the machine gun, a dozen deaders had drawn closer to the convoy, cutting Alissa off from the Humvee.
Kiera ducked back into the cab and started to open the door when Rebecca leaned forward and grabbed her collar.
“Let me go. I have to save Alissa.”
“You’ll only get yourself killed.”
Chris had been watching the battle play out from his seat on the bus, frustrated that he could not help. When he saw Alissa being surrounded by deaders, he jumped out of his seat to rescue her.
Boyce blocked his path. “Sit down.”
“I have to help Alissa.”
“You won’t make it twenty feet on that leg and then we’ll have to save your sorry ass as well. Sit.”
Chris obeyed, reluctantly.
Boyce exited the bus and ran over to help with Gary. “Alissa is in trouble.”
Nurse Alissa vs. The Zombies | Book 6 | Rescue Page 8