The Z Directive (Book 1): Extraction Point

by Thompson, Chris

  “Smooth.” He said.

  “You know I’m right.” Tyrone responded as he came closer.

  “I don’t know that and neither do you. We’ve pulled targets out of places with worse odds than this in the past.”

  “The infected—”

  “Are slow, stupid and easily baited. If this plan goes off without a hitch we may not even see them.”

  “And you know what the odds of that are, right?”

  “What’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just...” Tyrone trailed off then shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.” Tyrone concluded, slipping his helmet back on and pushing past Jack. His behavior was certainly odd, Jack mused, but right at that moment it didn’t matter. The job was still ahead of them; Jack could mend fences with his friend later.

  Bridges and Smith reported that the south east stairwell was clear of the infected and the ground floor on that side seemed to be relatively free of hostiles also. From the window, Jack watched as they approached the ambulance and secured it, first checking the rear then climbing into the cabin.

  “It’s clear. No sign of the driver or any medical technicians. Probably eating someone.” Bridges reported.

  “Your glass is always half full, isn’t it Bridges?” Smith asked.

  “Cut the unnecessary chat.” Jack instructed them sharply. “See if it’ll start up.”

  “Yeah, gimme a minute to make sure the sirens aren’t going to blare into life when I turn the engine on.” Bridges answered. A minute later, the headlights on the ambulance came on.

  “It’s working, sir. Should we get it in position?” Smith wanted to know.

  “Yes. Bring it up to the doors as if we’re going to load these people in the back, just in case they’re watching.” Jack instructed. “Hall, are you there?”

  “Go for Hall.”

  “Send the chopper; we’re going to be heading out soon. Tell them to take a slightly more circuitous route so it doesn’t come straight over the hospital and lead the infected or Bolvinox to the park.”

  “Already instructed. We’re sending them now; ETA is still twenty five minutes.”

  “Understood. We’ll be there.” Jack told her before addressing the rest of his group. “Everyone, we’re going to be heading out in a little under fifteen minutes. Check your gear, lock and load; we can’t afford any screw ups.”

  Jack kept watch at the window for a little while longer. He scanned the street to see if any infected were making their way towards the hospital; drawn either by the sound of the ambulance backing up or the presence of the living on the street. Fortunately, Jack could see none and he imagined if there were any coming from the south end of the street, which he couldn’t view, Bridges or Smith would have said something. As satisfied as someone could be in that situation, Jack turned to regard the buildings. He saw no indications of a sniper team. He’d also considered earlier that if they were covering every side of the hospital, they’d have had a number of opportunities to fire on Jack already - starting with the first moment he peered out of the window. Certainly, they’d fired on Rodriguez and Cross, so perhaps their own snipers were currently attempting to locate them; it seemed a reasonable possibility, but reasonable was a far flung ideal these days. He surveyed the scene a while longer, checking his watch to monitor the time. As the moment they needed to leave came closer, Jack decided to get moving.

  Turning away from the window Jack left the room and followed the route to the south east stairwell Bridges and Smith had taken; it was also where the Emma and the survivors were assembling in advance of the evacuation from the hospital.

  “Cross, Rodriguez, time to move.” Jack told them over the radio as he approached the stairwell.

  “On our way.” Cross responded for the pair.

  “Is it happening? Are we going?” Emma asked, a look of fearful excitement on her face while she tightened and relaxed her grip on the handle of her axe nervously.

  “Yes.” Jack responded simply.

  Tyrone still seemed as though he had something on his mind, but Jack ignored him and moved to the head of the group. He turned and faced them, addressing the group as a whole with his final instructions.

  “Okay, this is what we’re going to do!” He called out loudly. “Tyrone and I will be in front, Doctor Reed just behind us then the rest of you. Move in a single column; move quickly and keep pace with us. We have a limited window of opportunity to evacuate Dewbury by the closest point of escape; if we miss our ride it's going to be a longer run through a more hostile area of the town.”

  “We’re going to be joined by two more team members as we travel; don’t be alarmed as they may not have much of an opportunity to announce themselves.” Tyrone added.

  “If the infected come at us, keep moving; if I give an order, follow it immediately. Don’t hesitate, keep your head and we’ll all make it out of this alive.”

  “What if these security people - these Bolnox guys - come at us?” One of the male survivors demanded.

  “If we are engaged by any hostile forces then listen for our instructions.” Jack told him. “I can’t say for sure what’s going to happen out there, but as long as we’re working together we’ll be fine.”

  “Easy for you to say.” The same man returned. “You’ve got a gun!”

  “If you’re carrying a gun that makes you more of a target. You’re better off as you are.” Tyrone told him, his voice mildly aggressive.

  “Okay, let’s go! We don’t have any more time!” Jack called out, opening the door and raising his weapon. As the other survivors would be using their own lights, it wouldn’t be possible to continue using night vision, so he activated the flashlight mounted to the side of the rifle, as did Tyrone, and moved into the stairwell. He led the way down the stairs, glancing back to ensure the column was moving along with them. To his relief, they were.

  “Bridges, Smith, it’s go time.” Jack told them over the radio.

  “Understood.” Smith responded.

  He could only imagine they were pulling out now, surging away from the hospital as though they’d been loaded up with some precious cargo - the very cargo that Bolvinox was so eager to recover. While the sirens were necessary to pull away any infected, it would potentially undermine the ruse that Emma was on board - after all, if they were trying to avoid the infected, then something that would attract them would hardly be used - but even with that consideration, he knew they’d be forced to check. He hoped Bridges was as good as he thought he was, and that Smith was as sharp as she seemed. If not...

  Jack decided not to think about it. This was the job. He’d sent men and women into danger before, and knew if he was going to be continually involved in the battle against the undead, he’d likely have to do the same again. As he pounded down the stairs, checking the flights below for infected and the doors they passed for any indication they may suddenly be torn open to send a stream of zombies straight at them, Jack realized he’d never had any doubts about himself. It wasn’t exactly a surprise; in his line of work he needed to act and react, sometimes without time to think. Instinct had driven him; instinct born from some place within him that simply made him good at what he did. Upon reflection, it wasn’t instinct alone, it was instinct strengthened by experience. He trusted that every tactical decision, every snap response, was the correct one. Why then, in that moment, was he concerned? Shouldn’t he have split the team up? Perhaps it was because he’d been out of the game? Maybe that’s what Tyrone saw? As they sped past the door to the second floor, Jack decided not to think about the doubt niggling at him; he focused his will forward, certain that he’d done what was both correct and necessary. He decided to trust not only his team, but himself too; now more than ever, there was no room for doubt.

  Jack opened the door to the ground floor and peeked out; the corridors immediately to the left and right were clear of infected, though they were definitely not far away. Low growls, rumbling moans and - new am
ongst the noises made by the infected so far - there was a high pitched screech that sent an unusual chill down Jack’s spine. He glanced back at Tyrone and they shared a look of mutual concern. Focusing ahead, Jack led the way into the corridor and moved to the right, heading in the direction of the east entrance to the hospital. They moved quickly and as quietly as possible, though inevitably there were some soft squeaks of rubber on the floor and the sound carried uncomfortably. Fortunately, the group was making good time and it wasn’t long before they were at one of the two cased openings to the east side lobby. It was, much as the rest of the hospital was, a scene of carnage. The doors leading outside were in the middle of the wall across from the cased opening Jack was preparing to advance through; with the reception desk on his left and a gift shop much further across. Around the free wall space were seats either for temporary visitors or non-urgent patients, with a bank of seats right in the middle. These were adorned with torn apart skeletons, congealed blood and gore, and non-consumable parts of the human body. The room was heavily laden with the stench of blood, strong enough for Jack to be concerned it would turn the stomach of those passing through. There was, however, no other way for them to go at that moment, so Jack went through the opening into the room; sweeping it again for threats before pushing across to the doors. They were normally sliding automatic doors, but they had been opened manually - perhaps by Bridges and Smith - and the way forward was clear. Hearing gagging from the group behind as they advanced into the blood-drenched site of the massacre, Jack sped towards the doors and moved outside, securing the entranceway. There was a wide avenue where people could be dropped off by car or ambulance, with more parking spots beyond. A number of cars were still there, though visibility was more limited now that they were using only their flashlights; however, Jack could see no sign of hostiles, either infected or Bolvinox security, so he gestured for the group to hurry up as he started to cross towards the parking lot. He and Tyrone reached the first cars within a few moments.

  “Cross, what’s your position?” Jack asked quietly, not wanting his voice to carry too far.

  “About halfway along the north side, no targets in sight.” Cross returned.

  “Keep moving; we’ll be crossing the parking lot.” Jack told him as they started to move down an avenue within the lot; cars or empty places for them on either side.

  They were clear of enemies, both living and dead, all the way through to the other side of the lot. After crossing over a metal divider around the edge they were on the street around the hospital. Ahead of them were a number of nondescript apartments, stores or buildings of unknown purpose - perhaps offices. It was clear of all hostiles for the moment, but Jack didn’t want to linger. The path to the park took them to the right, and then they would need to take the next left at the junction. Following it all the way would get them to the park’s west entrance, which was roughly central in its perimeter. All they needed to do was avoid contact with the infected and Bolvinox and they’d be in the clear.

  “Okay, we’re stopping the ambulance and coming back. There’ll be a real holy shit number of zombies following us though!” Bridges reported crudely.

  “Understood.” Jack told him as he started leading the column to the right, advancing down the route which would eventually turn off towards the park.

  “Shit!” Smith came over the radio. “We’re taking fire!”

  “What’s happening?” Jack asked, continuing to move quickly despite the confusion coming over the radio.

  “Someone’s firing on us from—” Bridges was saying just before the communication cut out amidst a burst of static. Distantly, there was the sound of an explosion.

  “Bridges? Smith?” Jack questioned, continuing to move while bringing one hand to his helmet, pressing the earpiece in an effort to detect even the faintest amount of noise coming over the radio.

  “Bridges?” Tyrone reiterated. Jack glanced back at him and they shared a concerned look.

  “What’s wrong?” Emma wanted to know.

  “Just keep moving!” Jack instructed her gruffly. Someone gasped from the rear of the column. Jack sidestepped and turned, leaving Tyrone to lead the column, raising his weapon ready to bring down a target if it was caught in the beam of the flashlight.

  “Friendlies!” Cross called up. He and Rodriguez had been running flat out to join them, arriving at the rear of the column breathing heavily.

  “Understood.” Jack responded, turning back and keeping pace with the group, but preferring to walk alongside the column so that he could react swiftly should the need occur, without his view being blocked by survivors behind him.

  “Is something wrong with the others?” Emma pressed.

  “I don’t know, but right now we need to get to the—” Jack was saying when a closer, high pitched screech cut through the air from the rear.

  “I really don’t like the sound of that.” Tyrone declared flatly.

  Jack looked back towards the hospital, shining his flashlight in an effort to detect the source of the sound. It issued again, cutting through the dark like a knife.

  “Ramsay...” Smith came weakly over the radio. “We’ve been hit.”

  “What happened?” Jack questioned, while pausing to continue to peer into the gloom in an attempt to pinpoint the source of the sound.

  “Drone or something, blew the damn ambulance over. Bridges is out cold.”

  “Jack!” Tyrone called, forcing Jack to start retreating backwards so he didn’t lose the group in the murky darkness - just as the noise came again, louder and even closer this time.

  At the edge of the beam, Jack saw it. Thinner, more wiry than any infected he’d seen so far and, in addition to its visual difference, it was sprinting. It was running full pelt towards the group, while issuing another blood curdling screech. Despite the speed with which it was travelling, it was erratic, as though the limbs it was running on were alien and unknown to it. It staggered to the side, nearly stumbling as it did so before getting back on track and redoubling it effort to catch up with them. Was this one of the mutations Emma had mentioned, or was this simply a newly turned individual who had died so recently rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet? Regardless of why it was moving as swiftly as it was Jack took aim and fired - though the target was pretty much at the maximum range of the weapon. As the bullet left the barrel it stumbled, causing Jack’s shot to go wide, so he calmly took aim again and fired several more shots, some clipping the creature in the upper mass but none finding their intended target as its movements were too unpredictable. The infected stumbled again, falling on its front and starting to claw its way along the ground; just as suddenly as it went down, it rose back up and arrow straight, headed towards Jack. This time, his shot was true. A fresh scream was stifled in its throat as a gory expulsion of viscera shot from the back of its skull in line with the ragged entrance wound in the creature’s forehead. Unfortunately, the screeching cries of that infected had alerted other, more ‘normal’ creatures and they were shuffling about in the gloom at the edge of the light. Some were beginning to growl or moan, to produce a rumbling choir of discordant undead voices as they sought the flesh of the living. Jack turned and ran to join Tyrone at the front of the column, his mind partially elsewhere.

  “Smith, can you get Bridges out of there?”

  “Trying!” She returned over the radio, exertion laden in her voice. “Damn it we’re taking fire again!”

  “Ramsay, should we—” Cross started.

  “Negative, we’ve got to get these people to extraction.” Jack responded. “Smith, you’ve got to hold out! Get Bridges to cover and hunker down, we’ll come and get you as soon as possible.”

  The radio carried no fresh word from Smith or Bridges. Were those noises barely audible in the distance gunshots and, if so, were they shots being fired at his teammates? Jack couldn’t be certain. As much as he wanted to go and help them then and there, he had to focus on getting Emma to safety; her data was too valuable.


  “Do your friends need help?” One of the survivors questioned.

  “Keep moving!” Tyrone barked aggressively. Jack glanced at him sideways.

  “We’ll loop back around after we’ve gotten Doctor Reed to the extraction point.” Jack told him.

  “We’ll see.” Tyrone commented. Jack wondered what he meant by that, but let it go for the moment.

  Ahead, there were a number of screeches and surging out of the darkness came more sprinting infected.

  “Incoming!” Jack called out, raising his weapon. There was a trio of them, with other infected likely on their heels. He fired, a burst of shots that were aimed at the closest creature’s legs, cutting them out from under it. The fiend howled and collapsed, before beginning to crawl as quickly as it could towards the group. Jack lined up the now far easier headshot and executed it before shifting to the next target. Tyrone gunned it down before Jack could pull the trigger, a perfectly timed headshot obliterating the creature’s skull. Together, they switched to the next target, and simultaneously cut it down.

  “What the hell?” Tyrone questioned.

  “Never seen them before, I take it?” Jack asked him.

  “No, but it sure as hell changes things.”

  The group continued moving, fear evident on their faces at the undeniable sounds of the infected behind them. Somewhere, not very far away, could be heard the screeching of the new, fast moving undead. Jack hoped they wouldn’t encounter many more of them, but was prepared should they be pressed again.

  “Smith?” Jack tried again.

  “Still taking fire!” She returned. “Bridges came to and we’re in a store across the street, but we’re being pressed on all sides! We need support!”

  “We need to drop the target at the extraction point first. Hold out until then.” Tyrone told her, an iciness in his tone that Jack was unfamiliar with. It reminded Jack of his own abandonment years ago.