The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five

by M. A. Robbins

  "Roger. Command One to all air units. Proceed to the north and engage the enemy. Alpha One coordinate artillery with Alpha Two and additional air units from Minot and Grand Forks. Put up a wall of death those bastards can't pass."

  "Alpha One acknowledges."

  The highway curved south and the horde was soon out of sight.

  "Command One to Echo Three. Do you have the location of the civilians?"

  "Roger, Command One. They're with this unit. All three accounted for and unharmed."

  "Bring them to me as soon as you arrive."

  "Yes, sir."

  They arrived at the main gate ten minutes later. While the wall looked foreboding, Jen imagined a million zombies attacking it at once and could think of no scenario in which it kept them out.

  She pulled the vehicle through the gate. "I suppose the general's at Headquarters."

  "Good guess," Washington said.

  Humvees sped by, and fully armed troops ran in formation toward the front gate. A jet launched from the flight line, fire roaring from its engines.

  Jen parked in front of Headquarters a few minutes later. A short, stocky soldier with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair marched out, followed by a trio of NCOs and Sergeant Howell. The older soldier had two stars sewn in his lapel.

  Washington and his crewman snapped to attention and saluted. "Echo Three reporting mission accomplished, sir."

  General Lewis popped a salute back and stopped in front of Jen. "Dr. Cartwright seems to think you're essential to the war effort."

  "I'm not sure about that," Jen said. "She sent me a two-star general. If I was that important, wouldn't she have sent someone with a five star rating instead of two?"

  Lewis stared at her while the NCOs behind him turned various shades of red. All except Howell, who struggled to keep a straight face. "Cartwright warned me about you. She was spot-on. Follow me." He flashed a grin, then turned and marched into the building. Jen winked at Mark as they followed the general.

  The general led them to the conference room. One of the NCOs turned on the video conference system. "Guess it wasn't too screwed up if they got it fixed already," Zeke said.

  The screen displayed Cartwright with dark circles under her eyes. A tired smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Jen."

  A soldier burst into the room. "General, you're needed in the war room."

  "Sergeant Howell, you stay with the civilians. The rest of you come with me." Lewis hurried out of the room, the NCOs trailing in his wake.

  Cartwright put a hand up. "I'm sure you have a lot to tell me, but that can wait till you get here. I understand there's a major attack in progress, and with Colonel Butler dead, the urgency is getting you out of there and not on your report. General Lewis has ordered your plane to be refueled and ready for immediate takeoff. I also asked the general's permission for Specialist Grant to accompany you to Atlanta."

  Jen swallowed. "Butler killed Grant and turned him into a leader. He sent him after me. Grant controlled thousands of drones, so I had to kill him. Once he died, the drones went back to wandering around."

  Cartwright's face softened. "I'm sorry about Grant." She straightened. "But you must leave immediately. That includes you, Sergeant Howell."

  "But I could be useful here," Howell said.

  "I have more use for you here, Sergeant," Cartwright said. "You will return immediately."

  Howell nodded, but remained silent.

  Mark cleared his throat. "I'm not going yet."

  "What?" Jen said. "What about your family?"

  Mark shrugged. "All indications are that things are fine in Biloxi. Would that be right, Doctor?"

  Cartwright frowned, but nodded.

  "My other family needs me here," Mark said. "You saw what's out there."

  Zeke stood. "I'm with Mark. This is where the battle is. Not back east."

  Jen sighed. "I'm all for pitching in for God and country and all that bullshit, but what difference can we make? At best, we're three more guns."

  "Recon," Mark said. "We can take the plane up. Butler diverted all the recon to the city the past few days and they're now all involved in the northern attack. What if there are more coming from the rear?"

  "I could have you arrested and transported here," Cartwright said. "And it would take an additional aircraft out of service." She steepled her fingers. "How about a compromise?"

  "I'm listening," Mark said.

  "You use your plane to scout until you've covered the rear directions fifty miles out," Cartwright said. "Once you've completed that, you fly directly to Grand Forks Air Force Base in North Dakota, where I have a military transport waiting that will bring you here."

  Mark rubbed his chin. "Whether we find anything or not, the general will have information he can use to deploy his troops."

  "Deal," Jen said. "We're leaving immediately."

  Cartwright nodded. "I'll inform General Lewis." The monitor went blank.

  They piled into the Humvee and headed for the flight line. "What are they going to do if we find something?" Zeke said.

  "Probably divert some air units to try to keep them back," Howell said.

  Jen sighed. "If this base falls, it'll open up everything from North Dakota to Colorado. I don't think we can recover from that."

  34

  Mark started the Cessna and gave Jen the mic. "How about you be my comm?"

  Zeke leaned forward from the backseat. "I can do it."

  Jen smiled. Zeke's the best zombie killer on the team, but when you get right down to it, he's still a big kid.

  She handed him the mic. "Why don't you go ahead and ask for permission to take off?"

  He took the mic. "But once we're up," Jen said, "we need your eyes on the ground. I can watch my side and still use the mic, but it's not long enough for you back there."

  Zeke nodded. "Are we ready?"

  Mark grinned. "The radio's yours, big guy."

  Zeke keyed the mic. "Attention, Fairchild Tower, this is…" He lowered the mic. "What's our call sign again?"

  Jen looked at the paper the airman handed her before she boarded. "Romeo One."

  "Oh, right." Zeke brought the mic to his mouth. "Fairchild Tower, this is Romeo One requesting permission to take off, good buddy."

  He released the key. "How was that?"

  "I think you could've left the 'good buddy' part off," Howell said.

  Mark fiddled with the radio dial. "No answer. I forgot about this crappy radio." He glanced back at Zeke. "Try again."

  "Fairchild Tower, this is Romeo One requesting permission for takeoff."

  "Romeo One, you have permission for takeoff."

  Zeke grinned and handed the mic to Jen. "Not bad, huh?"

  Mark engaged the throttle. "You could do it for a living."

  Mark guided the plane onto the end of the runway and increased the speed. Other aircraft and buildings sped by in a blur and the Cessna lifted into the air, flying over the wall.

  Jen pressed against the window. "They're finally working on that gap in the wall."

  "Butler had the combat engineers out looking for you instead of finishing their job," Howell said. "He put the whole base in jeopardy."

  Mark craned his neck to get a look. "They're moving fast. The wall's as high as the men working on it."

  The plane banked to the right and climbed higher. Black smoke hung over the base and as far north as Jen could see. It looked like it cleared farther south, with a layer of big fluffy clouds blocking the sun.

  The radio crackled. "Romeo…status…by General Lewis's order."

  Jen keyed the mic. "Fairchild Tower, this is Romeo One. Please repeat. You're breaking up."

  "Status update…before…Lewis."

  "Dammit," Jen said. "This radio's still a piece of shit."

  The plane headed due south. Jen watched Medical Lake pass by beneath them. "Looks pretty clear on my side. Zeke?"

  "Same here."

  Jen tried the radio again. "Romeo One to F
airchild Tower, do you read?"

  A loud buzz from the speakers startled her, and she scrambled to lower the volume.

  Zeke stretched his arms. "This is kind of boring. I'd rather be down on the ground killing more zombies."

  Howell had his face pressed to the window. "I see a couple zombies below. What about your side, Zeke?"

  Zeke quieted and peered out his window.

  "What's the first waypoint again?" Mark asked.

  Jen consulted the paper. "St. John. Forty-five miles south of base."

  "Should be just a ways ahead," Mark said. "Keep your eyes peeled for any hordes."

  Jen studied the green-and-brown landscape beneath her. "I've got a horde of about fifty heading south, and another couple of onesies and twosies going in different directions."

  "I've got less than that," Zeke said. "Maybe twenty in all."

  "So far, so good," Howell said. "No major buildups."

  Mark pointed ahead at a small town coming up. "Must be St. John."

  They flew over it. "Nothing here," Zeke said.

  Jen looked at Mark and shook her head. "Same."

  "On to Ritzville." Mark banked the plane to the right.

  Jen put the mic to her mouth. "Romeo One to Fairchild. Do you read?"

  "This is Fairchild Tower. Command One is requesting your sitrep, Romeo One."

  "Roger. Have reached St. John with minimal enemy activity. Now proceeding to Ritzville."

  "Roger, Romeo One. Be advised to stay clear of our airspace on your way to Grand Forks. Increased contact with enemy forces in the area has required artillery and air support. Repeat. Stay out of the theater of operations."

  "Roger, Fairchild Tower. Romeo One out."

  Howell whistled. "There must be a ton of ordnance dropping there."

  "Damn," Zeke said. "Where did all those freaking northern zombies come from?"

  "Maybe they're from Canada," Mark said. "I don't remember anyone saying what was going on up there."

  "Canadian zombies," Jen said. "Great. At least they'll be polite while they're gnawing your face off."

  Zeke sat back in his seat. "This is a waste of time. There's nothing out here. They're all coming from up north."

  "Keep your eyes on the ground," Mark snapped.

  Jen raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed. "Sorry, Zeke. Didn't mean it that way. But what you're doing's important. If we can clear the other directions, they can fully commit troops to the zombies coming from the north."

  "And if anything is coming from the south," Jen said, "they need to know now."

  A goofy smile spread across Zeke's face. "No worries. You can count on me."

  Jen noted ten different small hordes heading northwest. "So far I've seen a total of a few hundred since St. John, but they're all heading northwest, away from the base."

  Mark cracked his neck. "Coming up on Ritzville. Let Fairchild know."

  "What's our next waypoint?" Jen asked.

  "Fort Spokane."

  "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. Do you read?"

  The speakers let out a slight crackle and nothing else.

  Jen tried again. "Fairchild Tower, this is Romeo One. Do you read?"

  A burst of static, then nothing. Jen slapped the dash. "So are they not hearing us, or are we not hearing their reply?"

  Mark banked the plane. "Give them the report. Hopefully they'll hear it."

  "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. Be advised we're not hearing you. Our sitrep is once again minimal enemy activity to Ritzville. Now proceeding to last waypoint at Fort Spokane."

  The speakers remained silent. Jen slammed the mic into its holder. "Let's just get this shit done and head to Grand Forks."

  Mark straightened. "Hey, I think I see something ahead."

  Jen leaned against the dash and peered out the window. A shadow spread across the land that reminded her of bees swarming a hive. Or more like hornets.

  They approached the area. "I see it out this side, too," Zeke said. "What the heck is it?"

  "Oh my God," Howell said. "I hope it isn't what I think it is."

  Jen looked out her window. "Mark, bring us down."

  "How low?"

  "As low as it takes to make this out."

  The plane's nose dipped and dropped closer to the ground before leveling off. "How about now?" Mark asked.

  "Can you circle here?" Jen asked.

  "Got it." The plane banked.

  No longer a blur flashing by, the mass came into perfect focus. Jen gasped. "Zombies. Millions of them, and they're heading straight for Fairchild."

  35

  Jen snatched the mic from its holder. Please work.

  "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. This is an emergency. Do you read?"

  Nothing.

  "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. There's a huge horde heading your way from the west. Do you read?"

  "They're coming from the southwest, too," Zeke said. "Look."

  Jen peered out the window. The darkness flooded the land as far as she could see. "Oh. My. God."

  "And those things are running at full tilt," Mark said. He righted the plane and increased the throttle.

  "We've got to go back to Fairchild and warn them," Howell said.

  Mark nodded. "Heading back at full speed."

  Jen brought the mic to her lips. "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. There are millions of zombies moving quickly to your location from the west and southwest."

  She turned to Mark. "They're going to hit the wall at the break. They only have that thing up to six feet or so. This horde will wash over it."

  "And if they haven't heard your transmissions," Mark said, "Fairchild won't have a chance to reinforce that portion of the wall."

  Zeke whistled. "It's like they're doing it on purpose."

  "What?" Howell asked.

  "The attack from the north is drawing all the firepower there while this larger group moves in from behind. Me and my gaming group did the same thing on this crazy map—"

  "Romeo One to Fairchild Tower. Do you read?"

  A crackle came from the speaker and Jen threw the mic to the floor. "How much longer?"

  Mark hunched over the wheel, biting his lower lip. "Look ahead."

  Jen peered out the front window. They were only a couple of miles from the base.

  Howell looked down. "We're just clearing the leading edge of that horde. There won't be a lot of time once we land."

  Mark shook his head. "I don't know what the hell they can do to plug that hole. If they divert the artillery and air units to the southwest, they might keep the horde from breaching the gap, but then the northern approach is open."

  "The general's a smart guy," Howell said. "I don't know if it'll matter, but the base is in the best hands available."

  The plane slowed and the nose dipped. "I'm not cleared for landing, so I'm going to buzz the tower to get their attention. Then we're going in."

  A Blackhawk lifted off from the runway and flew north. Several bombers streaked high overhead.

  The Cessna zipped by the tower, causing several of the air traffic controllers to duck. "I think we have their attention," Mark said.

  Mark took the plane in a wide turn then straightened for the runway. He lowered the flaps and decreased speed. The runway came up to meet them and the plane bounced once, twice, then settled.

  Emergency vehicles, their lights flashing, sped toward them.

  "Don't stop," Jen said. "Get us to our parking spot. We can jump in the truck and get to HQ faster."

  Mark pulled up near the pumps and cut the engine. Without waiting for the props to stop, they hopped out of the plane and ran to the truck. A maintenance crew member looked at them curiously. Jen pointed at him. "Get the plane refueled quickly. We're under orders from General Lewis."

  The crewman nodded and ran off.

  Howell hopped into the driver's seat and started the truck. The others boarded and the tires left rubber on the tarmac as they tore down the road.

  A fire truck
roared down the runway and stopped at the Cessna. The MP vehicle made a sharp turn and chased the truck.

  Heavy vehicle and troop traffic forced Howell to slow and stop for others. The MP truck pulled up behind and they got out, but the traffic cleared and Howell sped off, causing the MPs to scramble back into their truck and give chase.

  The truck arrived at HQ with a screech. Howell threw the truck into park. Jen jumped out just as the MP vehicle pulled up.

  "Halt," a bearish-looking MP said, his pistol aimed at her.

  Jen ignored him and ran into the building. The MP chased after her, but Howell tackled him into a wall, knocking the air out of him. Mark disarmed the second MP and followed Jen.

  She burst into Lewis's office. Surrounded by soldiers in full combat gear, he looked up from his desk. "Where the hell have you been? We haven't heard from you since Ritzville."

  Howell burst in.

  Jen leaned on the general's desk, panting. "Radio problems. Huge horde coming from the south and west. Millions of them. The northern attack is a diversion."

  "They're heading here at full tilt, sir," Howell said.

  Lewis stood. "Divert all air units to the southwest. Keep half the artillery pounding the north and divert the other half to the southwest. And I want a helicopter out there on recon. We need eyes."

  The men scattered and Lewis faced the wall, his head down and hands pressed against his back. "Millions, you say?"

  "There had to be," Mark said. "We couldn't see the end of them. I think we found the expected surge from Seattle and Portland."

  The general sighed. "There's no way we can hold that back."

  Jen swallowed. "I don't think so."

  The general turned around. "It's time for you to leave. Cartwright needs you. Our only hope is for some kind of cure, and she needs your blood and the information you have."

  Zeke scratched his head. "It'd be a great battle. Imagine how many zombies I could take out."

  Lewis sat on the edge of his desk. "We all have our role, and this isn't yours." He cast a steely gaze at Jen. "You go take care of business."

  Jen's throat tightened. She nodded.

  The MP burst in. "Sorry, General. I'll get them out of here."