The Redemption Trilogy

by A. J. Sikes

  Jed followed the railroad tracks, with Mehta behind him monitoring Ewell’s commo. All they’d heard so far were short bursts of chatter between Jordan and Ewell, and none of it helpful at determining their enemy’s strength or location.

  Garza and McKitrick trailed a few yards back, watching the team’s six.

  They neared a cross street that marked the end of the marshland. The remains of Galveston’s industrial centers sat on the other side with scrub brush and trees forming a boundary along the railroad. Tattered buildings hugged the ground in heaps and lumps. Their metal siding was splayed out and their roofs half gone from the storms. Jed was a few steps from the road when the first shots cracked across the sky and rounds zipped past his head. Sustained bursts from an M240 added to the incoming fire. The team took cover beside the road and Jed yelled for them to return fire. He lifted to shoot back and caught a spray of gravel and pavement chips as bullets spit against the road in front of him.

  Jed tucked back behind the roadside berm with the others. The enemy had to be shooting from a distance, and he’d been lucky they didn’t correct their aim before he dropped back down. But his people were pinned beside the road and the nearest cover was dead ahead, under enemy fire.

  “They’re in the first building, Sergeant!” McKitrick shouted to him. She was on the far end of their line.

  Jed snapped up for a single shot toward the building, hoping to catch sight of movement or muzzle bursts. A flash showed him where the M240 gunner was positioned, just inside the building using a collapsed part of the roof for cover. Jed dropped down again as more bullets zipped by and picked at the road.

  “Under the busted roof, McKitrick. Me and Garza will cover you.”

  Waiting for a burst to end, Jed slapped Garza’s shoulder and they both raised up, sending rounds toward the enemy position. McKitrick lifted up and sent an HE grenade downrange. They all dropped behind cover as soon as she’d fired.

  Bullets rained in, and they shrank down tight against the berm. The HE impacted and Jed shouted for them to move across the road. They raced forward, with Garza firing bursts at the machine gun nest as they went. The M240 opened up and Jed felt a stinging tear across his leg; he kept rushing with his people, firing as they moved.

  On the other side of the road, they grouped up behind mounds of scrap metal and rusting cars. Jed checked his leg. An angry furrow crossed his left thigh, welling with blood. He pulled a bandage out while the others maintained security. The machine gun was quiet for now, but that didn’t mean the enemy wasn’t moving on their position.

  With his leg wrapped, Jed counted his people.

  One, two—

  “Where the fuck is Mehta?”

  — 36 —

  “Mehta!”

  Jed yelled the private’s name again, but got no response. He couldn’t see a body behind them, but also couldn’t see much more than the road and the swampy landscape they’d come through. If Mehta was cut down before he crossed, he would have fallen out of sight.

  “We can’t leave him behind,” Jed said. “Y’all cover me.”

  He moved away from their cover and jerked backward as the M240 lit up the ground in front of him.

  “Fuck! McKitrick, smoke.”

  She fit the round into her M203 and lifted it, ready to fire.

  “On three,” Jed said and counted with his fingers. He got to one when a grenade exploded nearby. A man screamed from the direction of the buildings. Single shots from an M4 followed and silenced him.

  “What the fuck was that?” Garza asked.

  Jed was about to tell McKitrick to fire the smoke when Mehta called out, “All clear! I got a prisoner here!”

  The team rushed out from cover, weapons up, and stalked forward. Metha stood by the machine gun position, covered head to toe in mud. He held his rifle on a man lying beside the building. The man’s leg was shredded, and his chest heaved as he struggled to sit up. Jed took his people over, monitoring the area around them. Garza had their six and McKitrick had the smoke round ready to provide cover.

  “How’d you get here, Mehta?” Jed asked when they’d reached him.

  “Split off when we crossed. I had to. This guy and his buddy were tracking fire toward me, so I went down on my face. Low-crawled my ass this way. Gave ’em Parsons’ grenade from their flank.”

  Garza clapped a hand on Metha’s shoulder.

  The man at their feet was one of Jordan’s squad, a dude named Prager. He groaned and reached for the muzzle of Mehta’s weapon. The young Marine pulled it back and Jed stepped around to cover their prisoner.

  “You infected?” Jed asked him.

  Prager’s eyes weren’t yellow, but they were lined with blood. He shook his head, and flicked his gaze to the side. Jed knew a tell when he saw one.

  “Where’s Ewell? Is he at the TOC? Where?”

  Prager opened his mouth like he’d answer, but all that came out was a Variant’s shriek. Jed double tapped him. Another shriek sounded from around the building and was joined by the snarling of dog Variants on the hunt. They were still some distance away from the sound of it, but would get here soon.

  “Grab ammo, anything they had!” Jed yelled.

  The team picked up what they could, snatching magazines from ammo pouches on Prager’s chest and the gunner. Jed went for the machine gun, but the M240 was wrecked by Mehta’s grenade. As they moved out, the first two monsters appeared around the far corner of the building. Garza lit them up with a burst, but they were replaced by five more scrabbling through the loose gravel and patches of mud. More of the monsters appeared on the beams and panels of the folded-up metal roof.

  Garza continued to fire. Mehta and McKitrick added to the counterattack, while Jed spun to find their safest path of escape. They had the road they’d crossed and the railroad tracks that passed through patchy scrub and bush cover, heading straight toward the old TOC.

  The dog monsters fell to the squad’s fire one by one, but a few got close enough to bite at Jed’s feet. He put them down and regrouped, teaming up with McKitrick.

  “Everyone fall back to the road.”

  The air around them buzzed now. Jed expected Variants to swarm them from the marshland or come racing down the railroad. They crossed the muddy gravel with Garza and Mehta at their six, watching for more dogs to come from the ruined buildings. They made the berm on the near side of the road, but that’s as far as they got. Jed caught the scent of rotten fruit just as four human Variants stalked toward them from the marshland and spread out across the road. They closed in, but didn’t attack. Jed sighted on one. It skittered left and right, dodging behind bushes and forcing Jed to jerk his aim to follow it.

  “Why aren’t they rushing us?” McKitrick asked.

  “They’re fucking with us. Trying to get us to waste ammo,” Jed said.

  “Sergeant, we got a clear path up the railroad,” Garza said.

  “Lead the way, Garza. It’s a trap; has to be. So, stay frosty.”

  “What about those fuckers?” McKitrick asked, lifting her weapon to track one of the monsters as it dodged side to side.

  Jed watched them closely, keeping his weapon up and ready, but maintaining visual on all four monsters. Their joints clicked as they danced back and forth, flicking ropy tongues around their bulging lips. They each wore shreds of digi-cams and even under their transformed faces, Jed could still identify the men from Sergeant Jordan’s squad.

  He fired a warning shot at the Variants, purposefully aiming at the ground in front of them. They darted away, but came back to form a barrier along the road.

  “Garza, Mehta; y’all move out. We’ll be right behind you. Watch for IEDs and whatever the fuck else Ewell’s got waiting for us. McKitrick, smoke ’em when we get some distance between us.”

  The team moved out, slowly pacing down the tracks. McKitrick fired the smoke round, sending up a plume beside the road. The Variants came flying out of it, charging straight for them. Jed and McKitrick opened up. The lea
d Variant went down with holes in its face. The others fanned out and disappeared into the scrub brush and trees beside the tracks.

  Jed hollered for Garza and Mehta to double time. They sped down the tracks with Jed and McKitrick watching their six now. Clicking joints and snarls sounded from all sides as the team moved through the terrain. Two Variants leaped from the bushes to skitter down the railway. Jed fired, striking one monster in the arm, but it kept coming. Its partner bounded away from the tracks and disappeared in the foliage again.

  McKitrick took out the one on the tracks as it jumped forward. She sent a three-round burst at its chest. It tumbled onto the tracks, then reared up with its claws ready to slash at her. She put another burst into it, and the monster fell onto its back, twitching.

  “Where are the others?” Jed yelled as he and McKitrick ran to keep up with Garza and Mehta. He scanned the tree line beside them. “Garza, you got ’em up there?”

  “Negative. Nothing but bushes and mud, Sergeant.”

  More clicking sounded nearby, then a shriek. Jed fired into the brush to his left, taking random shots as the team fled down the tracks. Garza’s weapon chattered behind him, and a Variant’s dying screech pierced the air.

  “One more down!” Garza yelled.

  That left only one chasing them through the vegetation. He could hear its shrieks and clicking joints, but where the hell was it? Dogs howled in the distance, and the squad continued to run. Jed fired at the plants alongside the railroad, hoping to hit the Variant before it took one of his people down. The reek of rotting fruit filled the air, but Jed couldn’t place the source. He only knew the monster was near them, and could attack at any moment.

  “Keep going, y’all. Keep moving,” Jed said as he sent another round into the bushes where he saw movement. If he hit the Variant, it gave no sign of being struck. The only sounds were the team’s boots stomping across the railroad ties, the dogs’ howling that was growing closer, and the clicking of a Variant’s joints as it stalked them through the brush.

  Up ahead, muddy tracts separated the industrial area from paved streets winding around the TOC. If they could make it that far, they’d have a better chance against the Variant and any dogs that showed up. Here on the tracks, they had two routes of escape unless they wanted to slog through the mud. With Variants on their tail, movement though that terrain would be a fast trip to a faster end.

  Mehta fired at something and Jed spun to see the Variant leaping from the bushes to tackle the young private to the ground, only to bound away and disappear into the bushes again.

  Jed and McKitrick covered the bushes. The strip of scrub growth narrowed here to no more than five yards across, with a road on the other side. Wherever the monster was hiding, it wasn’t making any sound or moving. Garza helped Mehta up, checking him for bites, and shook him by the shoulder.

  “You good? Did it get you?” he demanded.

  “No, man. Fuck! I’m fine!” Mehta reeled away, with a mad look in his eyes. Garza stepped back as if to lift his weapon, but Jed got between them.

  “Garza, you’re with McKitrick. Watch the bushes.” He stared Mehta in the face, looking for any sign in his eyes that he’d been bitten. No yellow mist clouded them, no blood welled around his eyelids. His uniform was ripped along his arms where the monster’s claws had grabbed him. Mehta shrugged off the injuries.

  “Just scraped me up, Sergeant.”

  Jed kept watching his eyes, waiting for the telltale shift in color. It didn’t come. Jed slapped a hand on Mehta’s shoulder and told him he was good to go.

  “What the fuck is it doing?” McKitrick asked as they moved out again. “Why’d it just leave like that? They don’t do that.”

  “It’s playing with us,” Jed said. “Listen; the dogs are getting closer. McKitrick, get that last smoke round loaded.”

  She gave a quick Rah and readied her weapon.

  The dogs’ growls and snarls grew louder. McKitrick stood tensed and scanning the brush beside the tracks. Garza moved beside her doing the same. The first sign of the dogs was a sharp cry that was half-bark, half-shriek, coming from near the building where they’d taken out the machine gun nest. The animal cry was echoed by a similar sound from the bushes, maybe three yards ahead of their position.

  The whole team moved as one now, continuing down the tracks with their attention on the foliage around them. Jed took point position and divided his focus between their path ahead and the bushes where the Variant hid. Garza was at their six. Mehta covered their left flank and McKitrick their right.

  More dogs howled and snarled ahead of them, and the first few jumped into view at the edge of the muddy area. The animals formed a line there, almost as if they dared the squad to approach, just as the Variants had done before. Easily a dozen of the dogs blocked their path now, in a row of slavering, growling death. Behind them, the first row of rebuilt homes waited like a safe haven. The doors and windows were all intact and new, the siding was all flush and clean.

  A shriek caught Jed’s attention and he flashed a look over his shoulder. The Variant hadn’t come out of its hiding place yet, but he knew it would at any minute. It had to. They were trapped now, with a line of the dogs in front of them, and a smaller pack charging down the railroad from behind.

  Garza fired a burst at the ones racing their way, sending the first two to the ground. The others kept coming. Jed yelled for McKitrick to fire the smoke behind them as he charged forward with Mehta, firing into the line of dogs that blocked their path. The smoke grenade exploded. Blasts from Garza’s and McKitrick’s weapons mixed with the cries and snarls of the monsters.

  Jed knew they hadn’t escaped, even as the line of dogs in front him fell away. The survivors bounded off to vanish in the bushes where the Variant hid. Their snarls mixed with shrieks and growls and Jed worried again that he had led his people into disaster. He and Mehta reached solid soil beyond the mud and took up position, firing at any dogs they could see. They came from every direction, leaping out of the scrub brush and trees, racing through the mud.

  McKitrick and Garza ran forward with stragglers from the pack almost close enough to bite at their heels.

  The team fired round after round into the onrushing mass. One dog sailed past them to circle around and attack from behind. Jed pivoted and tracked it as it moved, firing before it got its feet stable enough to jump. Two more raced around the team, pinning them against each other’s backs. Jed and his people fired and fired, dropping magazines and palming new ones in until they were nearly dry.

  Finally, with short bursts from the M27, Garza put the last of the dogs down. A Variant’s shriek split the air, angry and long, and then cut short. It was replaced with muffled groaning and grunting. Jed couldn’t tell where the monster was. Sound echoed around his head, and his ears rang from all the gunfire. With his eyes still focused on the terrain around them, he waved his people forward.

  “Y’all keep together. Three-sixty security. Move to the TOC.”

  “I’m down to one mag, Sergeant,” McKitrick said as they moved.

  “You got the HE still?”

  “Last one. Only round left.”

  “Ammo count, everybody.”

  “I got two mags, Sergeant,” Mehta said.

  “Last one in the weapon,” Garza said.

  Jed checked his pouches. He had one mag left, and the syringe. He thought about tossing it, but let it fall back into his pouch. If one of them got infected and he was quick enough, he could save them the horror of being turned.

  “Everybody top off. Do it as we move. Mehta, give your spare to Garza.”

  As they advanced down the road toward the TOC, a reek of decay and burned meat filled the air. Jed scanned the area, looking for any sign of where the smell came from. All he saw were the houses, the road, and the burned-out shell of the TOC. The stink made it hard to stay focused, and he had no idea where the Variant was hiding.

  “Where the fuck did it go?” Garza asked. “We’d hear it m
ove, right?”

  Jed motioned for silence. The houses beside them were empty, or at least appeared to be. He didn’t notice any sign of Variants using them for shelter. Up ahead, the road led straight to the causeway, and the first break in the bridge was visible. Blast marks and craters showed where Ewell had laid in the bombs, and a bigger crater marked what had been the front step of the TOC off the road to the left. The two-story house was now just ash and coal at the backside of the crater. Ewell’s rack spot was the first house beside it, and it was still standing.

  The Variant’s call came from the housing now, like it was leading them on a chase.

  “It’s trying to lure us in, Sergeant,” Mehta said.

  “Yeah, it is. Remember we’re here for Ewell first. Forget the Variant unless it comes for us. We move in teams, around the TOC, and approach from that side. If Ewell’s in his rack, we get him there.”

  “What if he’s not there?” Garza asked.

  “Then we find his ass, and kill him where he stands.”

  — 37 —

  Jed stayed on point with Mehta. The radio had been silent since they arrived, but he wasn’t ready to dump it, just in case Ewell had human allies on the island with him as well as his Variant army.

  They circled the ashen remains of the old TOC. Jed eyeballed every mound of earth along their path, and every scrap of debris that littered the area. The terror of a firefight or a Variant attack almost paled against the constant fear that his next step might end in a flash of light and an explosion he would never hear.

  The stink of death grew stronger as they rounded the TOC and approached the street that led behind the housing units. At first it looked like any old suburban street, with homes on either side and empty earth waiting for sod to be laid down out front. But after a few steps down that street, Jed found the source of the smell.