The Drumhead

by Richard Correll

  “CNN, ma’am.”

  “Good, go to it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Bradley, you’ve got Fox,” She pointed around the bus. “Private Voorhees.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “NBC News.”

  “I’m on it, ma’am.” Brenda was already slipping her hand into her back pocket and fishing around for her IPhone.

  “Checking the Tribune up here, Maggie.” Pinder had his Iphone out and was scrolling.

  “Yes sir.” Maggie went poker face to keep from reacting to the Captain’s disregard of regulations.

  The download speed was abnormally slow for everyone. A lot of people must be doing what we’re doing, Maggie surmised. Looking for something, anything to tell them what was going on. As she glanced out the window, Maggie could see they were under the pall of the gigantic black cloud that had the city in its thrall. It was like being watched by a monster that was waiting for the right moment to strike.

  “I have something, ma’am.” It was Chalmers. He turned his Android screen so she could watch as well. Pinder was on his feet and heading over to them in a heartbeat with Symons behind.

  “We head over live to our cable affiliate C-SPAN.” The announcer set up the segment. When they established a link Maggie’s mood brightened when she saw a familiar face.

  “Dr. Singh!” Molly was clearly on the run with the camera desperately trying to follow. The red “Live” icon flashed on the lower right hand side. “Dr. Singh!”

  An East Indian man with a round friendly face turned and stopped for Molly to catch up. He nodded politely to her.

  “Dr. Singh, in this time of crisis do you have any information….”

  “That’s enough, no questions.” An older man stepped between the two of them and tried to guide Molly away. She ripped her arm from his grip.

  “Get your hands off me!” She yelled at the security man. Then, she turned to a group of men off camera. “Senator Taylor of New York, Senator Stevens of Colorado, Senator Billings of Rhode Island is this your security?”

  Ma’am, you really can’t….”

  “I told you to get your hands off me!” Molly returned to addressing the senators. “Ladies and gentlemen, this man has information that can save lives right now. Your constituents are waiting. Are you saying to the people who voted for you they can’t have that information?”

  “Are you saying that, Senator Taylor?” The camera had caught up now and had the New York senator on close up.

  “Of course not,” he replied.

  “Right then,” Molly had them on the defensive and took advantage of the confusion. “Dr. Singh, there are people right now that are under attack from these ….invaders.” While asking the question, Molly was counting to ten to calm down and get the important questions out as fast as she could before security recovered.” Doctor, how can people kill these things and protect their families?”

  “A hard blow or gunshot to the head. If you damage the brain they become incapacitated.” Singh paused for a moment and added: “They are slow and can easily be out run for short distances.”

  “Dr. Singh…..” an official tried to interject.

  “Let him finish, Senator Stevens.”Molly calling the senators by name was like holding up a cross to a vampire. The idea that they might be judged harshly in a moment of crisis gave her the time she needed.

  “Please, this is important.” Singh protested to the senators and security. “They are also weaker than the average person so they have a hard time climbing.” He paused to put this piece of information into perspective. “This means they cannot climb through a window that is more than five feet off the ground. Do you understand?”

  “If you were in a two story house,” Molly asked. “What would you do?”

  “Lock the doors and board up any low windows or sliding doors.” Singh was looking directly at Molly while he answered. “If you can destroy the stairs to the second floor with an axe or electric saw, do so and take refuge upstairs with all the food you can carry.”

  “Why are they attacking?” Molly rapid fired the question. Out of the corner of her eye she spied more security on the way. These guys looked like they meant business.

  “They seem to be trying to bite anyone they come in contact with.” Singh had also seen the security and knew time was short. “There have been enough reports to substantiate that anyone bitten then goes into some kind of coma or dies. Then, they return as one of these…….things.”

  “Alright that’s enough!” Security was 20 feet away.

  “How do we stop that from happening?” Molly was out of time and she knew it. “How do we stop them from coming back?”

  “”Turn that camera off!” A hand tried to place itself over the lens. The camera shook violently and was suddenly closer to Dr. Singh and Molly Hunter.

  “Decapitation, powerful blow to the head or a gunshot to the ……stop that!” Singh reacted to Molly being grabbed by two security people and a scuffle ensued.

  “That’s’ my sis,” Maggie didn’t mean to say it out loud. But she was bursting with pride.

  That’s’ your sister?” Chalmers looked at his phone and then at Maggie.

  “Really, Maggie?” It was Pinder now.

  The skin color always made everyone skeptics. Maggie the redhead and Molly the black princess. They had played this out through high school, college and would probably do this for the rest of their lives. “I’m from a Scottish family. It happens sometimes.” Maggie gave the explanation she only half believed while the live scuffle continued.

  “Miss Hunter, you are going to …..OW! ”A male voice exclaimed. “ OW!! GOD DAMNITT!!”

  “Sure as hell sounds like your sister, ma’am.” Voorhees offered.

  “Their running the feed on Fox news, ma’am.” Private Bradley announced.

  “They are mentioning it on the Tribs’ website.” Pinder was looking at his phone.

  “Wow,’ Maggie felt a glow of pride get brighter and brighter inside for her sister. I think you just saved a lot lives, sis. You and that Doctor Singh, guy. She felt like something big has just happened. It was something big for Molly, something big for people trying to fight and something big for people trying to survive.

  “My sis,” Maggie whispered as her eyes glowed.

  “It’s up on the NBC sight, ma’am.” Brenda looked at Maggie and beamed.

  CNN already had bullet points up on screen of the interview and the heads were talking. Meanwhile, the traffic out of town snaked slowly out of Chicago. She glanced around buildings as they were passing by. People were waving bed sheets with messages on them. HELP

  …..SOS and more were visible. The sound of unrest was like a low muttering. Just barely out of earshot.

  “Sir?” Maggie looked back to where Pinder was seated.

  “Yes Maggie,” His be-spectacled eyes looked up.

  “I think we need to have a talk with everyone about what we just learned.” Maggie moved up the aisle to where he was seated.

  “Agreed,” Pinder turned to the bus driver. “Could you pull over?”

  “You got it,” The big wheel began to turn in the man’s hands.

  Pinder was scrolling through his phone one more time for any new information while Maggie was going from soldier to soldier and making sure they all comprehended what the news report had said. To her, the calm explanation and looking in their eyes to see they clearly understood was a life saver. It was also a way to gauge how her platoons were shaping up and feeling. Okay, she put her hand on Chalmers shoulder and nodded to him while standing up and traversing the narrow aisle. They’re ready.

  “A couple more things, people.” Maggie’s index finger was pointing to the rear of the bus. “Do not get separated from your unit. Stay together and above all.” She raised her finger up and pointed at her back. “You watch your six, understand?”

  “Yes ma’am.” The chorus replied. They were ready.

  “All ready, sir.” Magg
ie turned to Pinder who had spent the last minutes watching Maggie’s style and had been thinking of ways to use it in an office situation. He loved the one on one approach to get everyone on the same page. He couldn’t wait to use it when he got back. When you get back? He tried to suppress the touch of doubt.

  “Thank you, Maggie.” Pinder nodded and then turned to the driver. “Lets’ get going.”

  “Yes sir,” The driver checked his rear views and waited for an M-35 to pass by. It was Rico and his platoon.

  Maggie dropped into her seat beside him and gave out a sigh. He had to ask a question: “

  Watch your six?”

  “Yes sir, if twelve o’clock is this way.” She held out her hand in front. “Then six o’clock is your back.” She repeated the gesture she had used with the troops. “Watch your six. Watch your back.”

  “Boy, do I feel out of practice.” He said, embarrassed.

  “You’re doing fine, sir.” Maggie encouraged him.

  “This is just not my area of expertise.” He let out a slow breath.

  “We’ll get through this.” She turned to look at him.

  “If we get through this,” Pinder tried to smile bravely. “I’ll make it up to you by doing your taxes.”

  “Now you’re talkin’, sir.” She returned the smile.

  The M-35 transport sent up a cloud of diesel as it switched gears and passed by their bus. A siren was approaching from somewhere to the east. It was hard to read over the growing din of traffic and other distant wails of emergency vehicles. Rico’s M-35 proceeded under the West Madison overpass before coming out the other side into day light.

  The fire truck landed on top of them after crashing through the West Madison barricades above. The grill of the mid-sized vehicle smashed squarely behind the driver’s cab of the M-35. It crushed the troops where it landed with its fifty thousand pound weight. Bodies seemed to be flying off of the fire truck as it landed with a horrendous sound of metal and humanity coming together at high speed.

  “Fuck!” Symons exclaimed as he stood up.

  The bodies that had been falling off the fire truck when it had jumped the guard rail were scattered all over the I-94. The force that they had hit the pavement made some bodies actually bounce off the hard surface. Maggie cocked her head as she noticed that none of the people who had been thrown clear were wearing fire uniforms. The tell tale helmets, boots and heavy gear were nowhere in sight. She was preparing to call base for an air ambulance when her jaw dropped open.

  They started to get up.

  “Medic!”

  “Belay that!” Maggie screamed and watched with wide eyes. This is something new, she bit her lower lip. They stood slowly at first, like the only injuries they suffered were bruises from the horrific fall. She watched one stand with a knee so badly broken the leg almost bent inward. A second had an arm that hung by a thread of loose flesh as it stood slowly and sniffed the air.

  “Maggie, we need to…..” Pinder began.

  “It’s them,” Maggie’s voice was a husky whisper. “Its’ them, sir”

  Pinder quickly grabbed some binoculars out of his pack and pressed them to his eyes. He focused on a limping figure that had a massive wound stretching down his neck and shoulder. The rest was hidden beneath a blood soaked shirt. A second one, a woman walked slowly like a pantomime performer in a park. Her jeans were tight around her waist. Her right hip ballooned backward at twice the normal size of her left hip. She has a shattered hip bone, He realized. She has a shattered hipbone and she’s still walking.

  It was a slow pirouette that the standing ones performed next. It was not in unison. But, it was pretty close to it. They turned slowly and hypnotically toward the vehicle. “We need to get our people out of there.” It was Esterhaus and he was right. The things that could not walk were crawling with an almost psychotic intensity.

  “Stay together people!” Maggie ordered. “Remember that news report. Stay together!” She flipped her M16 A3 off her shoulder and slid the safety off and eased her left hand on to the fore grip. She had it installed 6 months ago to steady her aim. The bus door sighed open and they stepped on to the highway.

  They moved up the I-94 quickly in a line that became rounded at the corners as soldiers on the far edges of the formation covered the flanks. The slow dance of the things continued toward the wreckage like a slowly collapsing balloon. They were moving in from all sides. The soldiers suddenly saw one of them turn and regard them with a curious stare. She had been a tall woman in a business suit. Her brown hair was caked in blood and as she came closer it was clear her left ear was missing. It had been replaced by a wound that only an animal would make. Her teeth protruded from bloody lips and she began to walk toward them.

  “Put your hands over your head.” Pinder spoke to the approaching figure. “Lie down on the pavement and put your hands over your head.” He suddenly had visions of police brought up on charges of misconduct when attacked by mentally unstable civilians. The jerks who cried foul there sure as hell have never tried to do what he was doing, Pinder felt himself paralyzed by indecision as Symons stepped in front of him to take aim.

  “You heard the Captain,” Symons’ voice was far louder and tougher. Maybe that was all that was needed. Still, the woman glared at Symons and began to walk a straight line toward him. “Ma’am, I need you to put your hands over your head.” He repeated.

  Symons looked through his sight at her face. She looked up and they made eye contact. The white from the eyes had been replaced by a puss yellow color. The intensity from her gaze was almost hypnotic in its’………he searched for the word.

  Hunger…….

  “Don’t let it get near you.” A voice was screaming. It was Maggie. “Don’t let it bite you!”

  Symons stood with eyes wide at the gaze of the woman. The mouth started to curl slowly as it approached. He didn’t know it but she had just caught a scent of his skin. The lower jaw dropped open wider and the claw like fingers extended themselves to get closer.

  Hunger………

  The first shot of the day sounded like a cannon. The bullet caught the woman just above the right eye and snapped her neck back like a whiplash. The body seemed to just go limp like a puppet who had just had all its’ strings cut. Symons stared blankly at the crumpled form on the pavement.

  A form passed by from his right to left, it was Maggie. She carefully kicked the body to ensure it was no longer a threat. She turned back to the platoons and said: “Did you see that? That’s’ how its’ done everyone. Go for the head.” She exclaimed as loudly as she could. Her message was cut off by a scream from the wreckage. She turned her head to get a look. “Oh dear god.” She exclaimed in a low, horrified voice.

  They advanced as quickly as they could on the figures. One short man with a nightmare for a face clawed at Maggie’s uniform. She brought the butt of the rifle across his face with as much strength as she could. He crashed to the ground and Maggie dispatched him with a bullet to the temple. Then, she looked around and tried to keep control of her unit. What are they? It was a distant echo of a thought that felt like a cold chill.

  “Stay together!” Maggie screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned to Captain Pinder. “Sir, permission to give the order to fire at will.”

  His eyes were wide, caught in the blinding light of indecision. His mouth slid open to try and speak before he heard Symons beside him open up on two attackers. A man in a hoodie and black jeans pitched backward and slammed into the pavement. His face was scarred with two bullet holes. One was in the cheek and the other on his forehead. The exit wounds were invisible but made their presence known with a slowly expanding pool of black fluid behind his head. The woman had orange hair that seemed to have been pulled off her scalp. Just a few strands remained among the exposed red flesh. A single bullet passed through her upper cheek bone and she fell to earth like a harvested strand of wheat.

  “Per….permission granted.” He shuddered.

  “Fire
at will!” Maggie ran up and down the line screaming the words. “I repeat!

  “FIRE…..AT…….WILL!” Maggie tapped the two soldiers on the end of the line and positioned them behind the advancing lines.

  “I want your eyes that way.” She pointed in the direction from where they had come. “You need to watch our six as we advance and stay with us.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” They both nodded.

  As they approached the wreckage they could see the things were reaching into the vehicles as far as they could. It piqued her curiosity enough to make a move. She ran up the line and clapped three soldiers on the shoulder.

  “Symons! Voorhees! Bradley! You’re with me!”

  The four soldiers ran to the right side of the advancing line like a power sweep in football. They swept wide around the edge to stay out of the line of fire of the advancing platoons. Maggie then tapped each one on the shoulder and gave them orders: