by Gary Hickman
“All good here, Sarge. Allison is fueling as we speak, and I see no infected.”
Doc reported, “All good here too, Sarge. No infec….”. A shot rang out and struck the chopper a couple feet from Doc’s head. “I’ve got contact,” Doc came over the comms.
“Who the fuck would shoot at us,” Priest thought. He rotated behind the aircraft to see where that shot had come from, and Doc did the same. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out as several soldiers came out of one hanger with weapons a hundred yards away.
Priest shouted, “We’re with the US Army, 13th/101st. Do not shoot.” The soldiers continued to fire but not accurately and as they got closer, Doc could see the blood on their faces and the twitching head movement.
Doc keyed the comms, “We have infected. These soldiers are infected.”
“You sure?” Priest asked.
“Positive.”
“Then fuck them up,” Priest replied. Priest and Doc opened up sending 5.56mm down range and started taking the soldiers out. Shaw stayed guarding Allison and his area of responsibility, which regardless of his feelings for Allison, was what they trained him to do. There were a dozen of the infected, who were easily dispatched. However, behind them another wave of soldiers come pouring out of the hangar.
Shaw keyed, “We are full. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Copy that. Move people and I’ll lay down suppressive fire,” Priest took out the front runners of the group, jumped in the chopper and they took off heading for Louisville.
CHAPTER 16
Eagle One’s pilots had received no communication back from the tower at Louisville International Airport. It was also strange was that they had not picked up any comms from any other aircraft when they entered Louisville’s airspace responsibility.
“Can this shit spread this quickly and be this devastating? I mean, no response from the tower, no aircraft identified in the general area. It’s just nuts,” the pilot proclaimed.
“From what we have seen since this shit started, I can believe it. People don’t see the infected as anything less than their friends or family at the start, and then when the shit hits the fan, they realize something is horribly wrong way too late. That’s how they get close enough to bite or they just overpower them,” Webb stated.
The pilot buzzed over a few times, and the scene was like Fort Wayne Airport, only a hundred times worse. Webb was taking in the scene and the seven levels of Hell from Daunte’s Inferno came to mind. This place literally looked like an esoteric scholar would have described as Hell or what Hell should look like.
There were fires all over the airport, they destroyed planes, bodies littered the ground and pools of blood covered multiple areas. Buildings ravaged and fires rolled out the windows. Papers and furniture littered the ground, while husks of bodies hung out of broken windows.
A massive wave of dread froze Webb’s heart as he looked upon the “End of Days”. The rest of the team were just as dumbfounded by what they were witnessing.
“I spent some time in Somalia, Uganda and the Congo and have seen mass destruction, massacre and complete annihilation of villages. Nothing I saw was even close to this scale,” Dr. Costa muttered. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke. She watched as the scenes of Armageddon rushed past her eyes. “My God, what have they done?” she cried.
Webb didn’t know who she was talking about, seeing how many people were culpable. Was she talking about the Dutch and German scientists who created the first strain? Was it the faction of Iranian, Palestinian, and Pakistani scientists who distorted and corrupted the strain to their warped sense of satisfaction? Or was it the ISIS fighters who stole the strain and exposed the world to it? It was difficult to nail down who she really held responsible for what she was witnessing right now.
Kennedy put a soft hand on her shoulder, which startled her at first. She quickly calmed down and gave him a smile in appreciation.
“Well, it’s your call Capt.” the pilot verbalized. “What do you want to do?”
Webb thought for a few seconds, “I have an idea. Take us down to about twenty feet off the deck and hover.”
“Sir?”
“Let’s see if it will draw out any infected still in the immediate area. We are getting ambushed a lot and I am tiring of it. I think it might be because these things are still thinking and aren’t mindless. Even animal predators have the basic instincts of stalking their prey. Ambushing, springing traps and working together to achieve their results. I have a theory that the infected hold a certain amount of that function in their brains, recall it and act on that instinct.”
Webb keyed squad comms, “Everyone be ready. We will see if the kids want to come out and play today.” They all acknowledged and opened the side doors to provide lanes of fire, just in case things went to shit. The pilot did as instructed and descended to about 10 feet off the deck and hovered. All held their breath as they waited for what might happen next, and for 30 seconds, nothing did. Just then, a throng of infected came out of all directions screaming and shrieking, heading toward the helicopter.
“Oh no, look at them all,” Shin said in amazement.
“Yeah, there have to be thousands,” Neville replied. As the horde rushed out, they began throwing debris at the chopper.
“Shit,” the pilot yelled. Several objects clanged off the sides and bottom of the helicopter. The front windshield was then covered in a brown substance like mud, which made visibility impossible. “Son of a bitch,” the pilot exclaimed, as he turned on the wipers, just smearing the substance. It made visibility worse, and then the stench reached everyone’s noses.
“What the fuck who shit themselves?” Neville yelled.
Webb answered, “No way, is that what they just threw at us? It’s what is on the windshield.”
“Can you become infected with bodily fluids?” Shin asked Dr. Costa.
Dr. Costa showed a face like she was thinking for a moment, then answered in an agitated state, ”In the original strain, contagion was not an issue. Somehow, in the original strain’s defilement, they have altered the primary chemical bonds between the fundamental elements. My educated guess, from what I have witnessed in the last 48-72 hours, is that yes, it is quite possible to contract the virus through other bodily fluids. Just as long as those fluids haven’t been absent from the body for a prolonged period.”
“Fuck me running,” Webb said. “They can now make weapons from their shit and piss, spreading the virus.”
The pilot yelled back, “Buckle in, we got to get out of their range.” The pilot jerked the chopper to the right to escape a group of infected throwing the bags of body fluids. People had unbuckled to get a look out the window at the devastating carnage, and it threw Kennedy out of his seat and onto the deck. He came down on his knees hard and let out a howl of pain as they threw a bag through the door. The bag burst, dousing everything with the liquid.
“What the hell was that?” Kennedy yelled. He was covered in the fluid. “Fucking got in my mouth.”
Shin smelled his sleeve, which had some liquid. “Ah, Captain his is urine. It smells like urine.”
“Holy fuck, he’s right.” Neville adds as he smells his own clothes.
Kennedy’s eyes bugged out of his head. “It’s in my mouth. That fucking shit is in my mouth!”
There was a loud bang, followed by a repeated scraping sound. Before anyone could react, a deafening crack echoed and then warning wails started sounding, as the Blackhawk started spinning out of control. “Fucking hell, we just lost the tail rotor.” The pilot yelled.
Webb yelled, “Hold on!”
Neville and Shin reached out to grab Kennedy, but the Blackhawk ti
lted to its side while spinning and Kennedy slid out the open door screaming.
“Fuck!” yelled Neville. “I couldn’t grab him.”
Dr. Costa screamed and covered her face.
“We need to clear out some of this crowd. Get on that Minigun, Corporal!” Webb screamed at the crew chief. The crew chief charged the weapon and started firing. The Minigun began chewing up figures running around as clouds of mist with blood, brain matter, bits of bone and significant amounts of bodily fluids dispersed tens of yards from the epicenter of the mass. Firing of the mini-gun continued as the helicopter approached the ground.
With the tilt of the aircraft, the rotors were now meeting the mass of infected with a blood bath rivaling any slasher film ever made. Bodies separated at the torso and arms, legs and heads detached and launched yards away. The amount of blood spewing from all the bodies caught in the helicopter’s rotor wash became an enormous cloud of crimson falling hundreds of yards over the flight line.
Finally, the rotors contacted the ground and churned up more of the already mutilated bodies along with chunks of concrete. The rotors spun for a few seconds before a couple snapped off and flew through the encroaching crowd of infected.
The Blackhawk came to rest on its left side. A smell of blood and gore mixed with jet fuel and burning flesh made the team gag. Smoke hung in the air and made seeing their surroundings near impossible.
“Move, move, move.” Webb barked. “We have to get the hell out of here.” The team was already unbuckling and climbing up to the open side door facing the sky.
Shin reached the opening first and surveyed the area. “Help us, Buddha.” Shin uttered. He was sitting on the side of the Blackhawk, looking around the crash site. There were bodies, piles of viscera and seas of blood spread across the landscape as far as the eye could see. Many of the infected were still alive, but were not in the best shape. Shin put a few down as the rest of the team made their way to the top of the open side.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Neville spat. He slid over to set up his sniper rifle to cover the team’s exit of the downed aircraft.
Webb exited and looked on the ground. “Unfortunately, we will have to wade through all this shit. My Team will use their balaclavas, all others make a scarf out of your shirts. Keep your mouths covered and don’t let any of this stuff enter your body.”
Dr. Costa, who was still in tears, made her way out of the helicopter. Her face turned ashen when she viewed the scene in front of her. “Oh my God?”
“Come on Doctor, we have to move,” Webb persuaded. She slid down to the ground, and he caught her.
“Aargh,” came from inside of the Blackhawk. “Shin help me, he’s stuck,” the copilot pleaded. Shin went back down inside and made his way to the cockpit. The copilot was trying to help the pilot, but wasn’t having much luck. “My leg is pinned. I can’t seem to pull it out,” the pilot cried. Shin looked down at the pilot’s legs and the control panel and center console smashed his shins.
“We must try to apply leverage to free his leg,” Shin instructed, motioning to the copilot.
“Ah, Capt., we have company arriving,” Neville reported. “A couple dozen infected making their way toward the crash site directly on our six. Estimate 325 yards and closing.”
“Copy that. Shin, be quick. We have infected heading this way quickly.”
“Working on it, sir,”
Neville adds to his previous report, “Sir, Kennedy is in the group’s front leading them right to us.”
“Damn it,” Webb responded. “Neville, give him some respect, please.”
“Yes, Sir.” A shot reported as Kennedy’s head exploded and his body hit the ground. “Sorry, brother,” Neville whispered.
“Shin, how’s it going in there? We got to go!” Webb inquired.
“It’s not budging Sir; the panel is smashed against his legs.”
“What if I come in and help?”
“Negative, Sir. The space is too tight. The two of us can barely fit.”
Neville’s head was beading sweat. “Sir, they are still coming, you want me to thin the herd?”
“Only the ones that are breaking away in front of the pack. Don’t waste ammo on the rest.”
Boom… boom. “Got the two front runners, but they are getting closer,” Neville reported.
“Get me the fuck out of here. Come on!” Shouted the pilot.
“We’re trying,” the copilot responded. The pilot started thrashing and bucking, trying to get loose. Shin was trying to calm him down while they tried to free him.
Boom, boom, boom… “We’re getting friendly close sir and we will play tonsil hockey with these fucks in the next minute.”
“Shin, sit rep,” Webb barked.
“No good, Sir. He is wedged in too tight.”
“Fuck!” Webb spat. He sighed heavily. “Shin, we must show respect.”
“Understood, Sir,” Shin quickly pulls his Glock and fires a round in the back of the pilot’s head. He says a quick prayer, then turns to exit the helicopter as the copilot just stood there with his mouth open. “Come on, Sir. We have to leave.” Shin climbed his way up, but was grabbed by his leg and pulled down. He fell on the deck and was suddenly having to fend off punches.
“You fucking asshole! You murdered him!” Shin was getting ready to retaliate when the punches stopped. He looked up to see the copilot pointing his pistol at him, tears streaming down his face. “You motherfucker! You just fucking killed him in cold bloo.…” Bang! The copilot slumped and fell to the ground with a hole in his forehead.
Neville re-holstered his Glock. “Come on brother, we don’t have time for this shit.” He stuck his hand out to help Shin out of the downed chopper. They joined Webb and Dr. Costa running into the nearest hangar.
“We need to find some transportation, because it’s looking like we’re driving from here on out,” Webb looked at Dr. Costa. “Look for any available vehicles.” He stopped her, “With keys. That BS in the movies doesn’t work with any vehicles made in the last 20 years.” She nodded, and they separated, leaving Webb to look around the hangar and not finding anything. He went out the side door of the hangar to check the parking lot.
The lot was mostly empty except for a few sedans, which he quickly checked two of with no luck. He went to check a third when he heard an engine and then a high rev. Running to the front of the hangar, he saw a 4-wheel drive pickup coming at him at a top rate of speed. It jumped the curb, scraped the corner of the building and stopped about 10 feet from Neville. He was white as a sheet and cussing in some French/Cajun/English mangle.
Dr. Costa opened the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Shit,” Webb exclaimed. They started running for the truck, “Neville you drive, Doctor in the back with Shin and I’ll navigate.” They all were in and Neville took off quickly, putting distance between them and the horde.
CHAPTER 17
Priest continued to hail Webb on the radio and the lack of contact had him worried about connecting back up with the rest of the Team.
“I can’t reach Webb, but our plan stays the same. We make our way to Louisville and regroup there.” They had been in the air for about 15 minutes when they felt vibrations in the aircraft.
“Doug, you feel that?” Priest looked over to him.
“Yeah, and I don’t like it. Feels like it could be our vertical stabilizer or our tail rotor linkage. Either way, we should set down and check it out.”
“Copy that.” Priest turns around, “We need to check out some mechanical issues with the bird and we must set down to do it. You boys know the drill.”
“What do you think, Sarge?” Doug
asked. “Either a huge parking lot or in the middle of a highway so we can see anything coming from a mile or so.” They were out in the middle of nowhere, so the places to set down were plentiful.
Doug looked around at the landscape, “If I can guess to our location, I would say somewhere around Auburn, twenty miles from Fort Wayne. I have basically just been following Rt. 69 south since we determined our GPS is tits up.”
A spot in the middle of Rt. 69 with excellent 360-degree visibility was identified and Doug descended. The vibrations had gotten worse and were much worse when they landed. The team exited and deployed to provide security.
Priest kept his head up to search for any potential threat but followed Doug. He noticed quite a few more bullet holes in the side than he previously thought were there. Doug stopped three quarters of the way down the tail boom. He stuck his finger in quite a sizable hole in the sheet metal. He opened the tail motor drive shaft cover and started cursing.
Priest walked up behind Doug, “Not good, I take it?”
“No, not good at all. Looks like a couple of those rounds hit us and damaged the tail rotor drive shaft.” Doug was inspecting the rest of the tail.
“Is it safe to fly?”
“Normally, no. We would usually ground a bird for something like that, but these aren’t normal times. It won’t last forever and with the centrifugal force during rotation makes the damage feel a lot worse in flight.”
Priest thought for a second. “Ok, we take it back up and fly fairly close to the ground in case this thing goes and we drop from the sky. We should be able to auto-rotate and perform a skid landing. On our way to Louisville, we will scout for other transportation, possibly a vehicle, and drive the rest of the way? It shouldn’t be but a few hundred miles.”
“Yeah, that’s our best bet.” Doug said nervously.