by Eric Gene
Quietly, all four teams watched the distance, listening intently for the sound of gunshots and retreating footsteps.
Chapter 3
Incoming
The silence grew longer as the soldiers waited and waited. They had been waiting for close to thirty minutes when the heard a shot. In the distance, a red flare lit up the sky and was immediately followed by a faint sound of incoming.
The sounds of guns being fired, roared in the distance. The tempo was maintained for close to thirty minutes before it gradually began fading. From a continuous rain of gunshots, the sounds reduced to trickles.
At different intervals, shots would be heard, and then there was silence.
Jason listened intently, his ears had been trained to pick the sound of footsteps all the while he had been traveling with Peter. He could feel the low rumbling, and that told him that the men were retreating. But they weren't alone.
"Prepare yourselves!" one of the captains bellowed to the teams stationed at the entrance of the outpost. Archers and a number of gunners who manned the top platforms readied themselves for the battle.
Snipers who were in position gradually opened fire, their task was to keep as much space between the Head Captain's team and the horde. The others were to wait until they got into full view before taking them down, retreating into the outpost as they did.
Bit by bit, the rumbling increased until Jason caught sight of the figures running swiftly towards them.
"Retreat!" thundered the Head Captain as he and his men appeared in the distance. He kept turning at different points, taking down zombies that were hard on their tail.
Jason could feel the tension in the air as the soldiers gripped their guns tightly, their fingers danced around the triggers in anticipation. They had to wait until the Head Captain and his team cross a threshold before they could open fire. A little way from the outpost's entrance, was a camouflaged ditch with covers. The Head Captain and his team only had to get there, jump in and seal themselves shut until the horde was decimated. This was to help in minimizing friendly casualties, and to give the teams stationed at the outpost enough space to take down as many as they could before they retreated into the safety of the outpost.
Slowly yet surely, the first team made their way closer to the outpost. Jason counted twenty in full retreat. This hardly made up to thirty percent of the numbers that had gone out.
But right behind them, the horde chased on in their hundreds. With no idea of how many were on the move, Jason readied himself for his team captain's call.
"Fire!" came the order of both team captains, and their men responded with pulling the trigger. Bodies fell as they got hit by bullets.
Jason took his time, firing at intervals to conserve his bullets. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ben hurriedly reloading soldiers who needed more ammo.
With each shot, a zombie fell. But there was hardly any difference as five more replaced the fallen one. Nonetheless, the men fired with renewed zeal.
Jason listened as the time rolled past an hour then two hours. They had been forced into the outpost and were down to their fourth hour of taking down the horde. Yet there was no sign of relief.
~~~
If there was any lesson life always taught without fail, it was that things don't always go according to plan. No matter the contingencies in place, there is always bound to be at least one glitch.
Mr. Mao stood close to the glass wall of the office Dr. Hans once occupied. He overlooked the laboratory and its bits of scientists moving around, each one donning a white lab coat. Most had a notepad stashed under the armpit as they hurried around with test samples.
It had been a race against the clock to create a vaccine for their sponsors, and they were down to the last quarter of the year. December was about a month away.
Given the advice from the cult, Mr. Mao had the scientists hold off the culturing of a vaccine from the blood of each sponsor. For all they knew, the supposedly dormant virus in their bloodstream could also respond to whatever signal was programmed into the earth's satellite.
Culturing a vaccine from their blood, although possible would become an exercise in futility if it makes no difference when the signal is released. The sponsors weren't willing to take that chance, and Mr. Mao as the spokesman had been tasked with overseeing the creation of a pure vaccine.
Although the rest of the world battled hard to manage the over three million cases raging, the death toll was closing in on a million despite the treatments found.
A glitch in the cult's plan however came with the announcement of breakthroughs from different privately funded research facilities. Other nations were closing in on the creation of their own vaccines.
While the world celebrated the progress in vaccine creation, the cult had no cause for joy. They knew that they weren't the only ones in the race to create a vaccine, but this was a race they wanted to win at all cost. The success of their plot for global control was hinged on them creating the vaccine first.
Like a snake whose only option was its venom, the cult decided to play another card. Belittle the progress touted by rival facilities.
From talks about poor funding and research equipment to the looming threat of more deaths, the cult preyed on the minds of the people even more. Their shot at getting world governments to come to them for help in creating the vaccine had been slammed, hence the negative remarks. While none of the members of the cult took part in the spotlights of berating governments, they ensured that their cronies had enough screentime on different media channels.
Anyone who could control the minds of the people was bound to win the race, and they weren't keen on losing.
"We might have to look into Mr. Reagan's plan concerning the satellite" Mr. Mao told the quiet room. He had just spilled the beans on the vaccine's progress, and they weren't thrilled.
"Well well, seems I was right after all" Mr. Reagan said with a cough. He looked at Mr. Mao with a smug.
"And why exactly didn't we look into this all this while?" Madame LeStrange asked. Mr. Reagan wasted no time in gloating, he had his finger pointed at Mr. Mao as he quipped "well somebody thought it wasn't the best call"
"Well, I don't blame him really... He had you all agree to wait for a bunch of nerds in white coats!" he added, anger could be felt in his voice.
"Oh stop being salty Reagan, I know you've been recruiting" Mrs. Sanders chipped in with a smug. Tense, Mr. Reagan glared at her. But she stared back at him unfazed. She was one f the three most powerful in the room, and she knew it. Mr. Reagan was only pushing his weight around.
Shrugging, Mr. Reagan returned his gaze to Mr. Mao who had his brow raised for an explanation.
"Well I knew we weren't going to have much progress with the nerds in white coats, so I decided to keep a low profile" he said
"I have contacts in the Pentagon who are willing to do as they're told without questions..."
"Don't sell yourself short Mr. Reagan, you and I know that's not entirely true" Mrs. Sanders chipped in again, to which Mr. Reagan replied "well, would your Royal Highness be brave enough to try?"
"Children..." muttered Mr. Dimitri with a shake of his head. Both Reagan and Marjorie Sanders heard him, and they both glared at him at the same time.
"We have a problem, he has a solution. Let's fix this" he said thickly. He had all the while been reclining in his seat with his hands clasped before him.
"I looked into it, and dare I say, it's worth the shot" Mrs. Sanders offered.
"But we're looking at a total blackout of internet activity, surveillance etcetera" Mr. Mao added.
"It's why we never chose it in the first place... There are just too many loose ends."
"Loose ends that can be fixed with authorization huh?" Mr. Reagan quipped, to which Mr. Mao kept silent.
"Well, I doubt that'll be a problem with what we've done so far.
"Besides, her Royal Highness..." he made a mock bow towards Mrs. Marjorie Sanders, "can get us ins
iders to handle the job"
"A few calls, a bit of promises here and there... Probably blackmail too, and we're in the clear" he said.
Mr. Mao quietly took his seat as Mr. Reagan explained his plan. As it turned out, they weren't looking at one generic satellite, but about two thousand satellites circling the globe.
"I thought about it, and it doesn't seem logical to think that a nerd would have the required connections for programming a satellite" Mr. Reagan said
"So, I had my team give me a report on how we could send a signal round the globe."
"He most likely got himself a good hacker who could access one of the satellites, and that's the one that would send the signal..."
"So what's your plan?" Miss Lee asked quietly
"We figure out which satellite has the virus, and we shut it down" he said with a smile. Silence followed his response.
"Although, we have a little problem..." Mr Reagan quipped after a while. All eyes focused on him.
"We need to know what we're looking for" he said. Despite the simplicity of his plan, it was hardly full proof.
"And I don't suppose you know where to start looking, for what you're looking for" Mr. Mao muttered. He knew the gazes were back on him. Although he wasn't the most powerful, his plans had earned him respect amongst the others.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I thought about this plan of yours, and I knew you were going to face this problem in the long run" he said, raising his voice.
"Besides the research on the vaccine, I've had my team work on a sequence that could possibly activate or deactivate the virus as it were."
"Think of it as a countermeasure for whatever sequence Dr. Hans created. It'll be such that we wait till the signal is emitted before emitting our counter signal that would deactivate the virus..." Mr. Mao said, rising to his feet.
"You see, viruses are living organisms, and just like all living organisms, they respond to different frequencies... Heat kills most organisms, whilst cold forces some to hibernate and die off slowly."
"With the right environment any organism including a virus, would thrive. And just like some organisms that respond in certain ways to certain frequencies... Something to do with behavioral tendencies... This virus is bound to react to a particular frequency which is the signal we've been talking about" he added.
"So what are you saying summarily, Mr. Mao?" asked Mrs. Sanders
"I am saying that while we have no idea what satellite Dr. Hans made use of, nor do we know if he had access to more than one, we could still try to create the exact sequence or something similar that would inhibit the virus" he concluded and took his seat. Mr. Reagan didn't look pleased.
"And why wasn't this brought to our notice?" Mr. Reagan queried, his lips twitched as he spoke.
"Because his team hasn't been able to create the right sequence for the virus" Madame LeStrange offered, looking at Mr. Mao. He nodded in response.
The cult descended once more into silence as everyone churned on what had been said. There was no doubt that time was running out.
"I suppose we'll leave it to you as always Mr. Mao" Mrs. Sanders spoke up, there was a murmur of agreement from the rest save for Mr. Reagan. He had a personal vendetta against Mr. Mao, and it irked him to see his rival moving on ahead of him in reeling out ideas.
Chapter 4
Second Wave
An onslaught that started an hour or two after noon, raged on till the skies darkened. Night was upon Haven 20, and although they had succeeded in decimating the horde down to the last hundred. They could easily be picked off one after the other by the snipers stationed in the trees. But that was too dangerous a call seeing as the zombies were more sensitive at night and there were bound to be bands of zombies prowling the area. The slightest sound would tip them off, and that would be another prolonged battle. Knowing that they were low on ammo, the senior amongst the team captains ordered for a strike team instead. Those who were good with close combat using swords, would go out for a clean up of the remaining zombies whilst rescuing those trapped in the camouflaged trenches.
"The archers can't see shit in this darkness, turn on the lights" he bellowed at some soldiers stationed below the archers' platform. These hurriedly ran around, flipping on switches that lit up gigantic floodlights that oversaw the entrance of the outpost. The zombies twitched at the sudden illumination, but soon resumed their idle scraping on the outpost's gates.
"Very well then," the Captain said and continued addressing his men who were scattered into different clusters before him.
"We need to go out there and finish the job soldiers. Those birdies need to be taken out as silently as possible, before we risk another shit storm" he told his men at the outpost. The scrapings of the zombies could still be heard on the gates of the outpost.
Jason who had been watching for an opportunity to bail out of the haven, broke off his whispering with Ben and focused on the Captain.
All through the battle, he had waited for the right moment to double back into the haven. But that moment never came. He had no idea about the security posted around the fence surrounding the haven, and Ben whom he knew would have an idea, was pinned down with reloading the soldiers in his team. The pot bellied man hardly got a breathing space all through the battle, and even as they spoke, he could tell that Ben wouldn't be able to make the escape that night. His exhaustion had him sprawled on the floor.
"As you can see, we've lost a lot of men tonight, and we still have others trapped in the trenches outside the haven" the Captain was saying,
"I'll need volunteers while the archers try their best to clear the area."
Jason watched as the men kept mute looking at one another. No one was willing to take the risk. The zombies were more active at night, and although the sound of swords would hardly draw in more zombies, there was no telling if more zombies hadn't closed in on the area with the prolonged noise of gunshots.
"I'll go" Jason chipped in, his hand had shot into the air. He watched as all eyes turned to him in disbelief, even Ben had sat up in shock. No one was expecting a laborer to volunteer, especially when the soldiers themselves were hesitant.
"Well well, bravery is no respecter of persons" the Captain murmured as he saw the dirt stained laborer's coat Jason had on. Jason ignored the murmurs that followed his volunteering, his mind was working on a plan. Ben looked up at him, confused.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, his fingers tugged at the hem of Jason's trousers. Jason spared him a glance, he had smirk on.
"Well, who's joining in?" called the Captain. Slowly, heavy hands went up into the air as their owners were too tired to rise to their feet. A few other laborers had their hands in the air likewise.
"Count me in too" Ben said, raising himself off the ground.
"Can someone else with guts volunteer and let's get this case closed? I wouldn't want unnecessary casualties" the Captain bellowed at the sight of Ben who looked like he was going to puke at the sight of a zombie
The Captain called a few more times before resigning to lead a team of 30 exhausted fighters.
"Alright then, show's over for the rest of you, get out of my sight" he barked. Tired, his soldiers lazily dragged themselves to their feet and walked back to the main grounds of the haven.
At his call, one of the junior captains beckoned to four laborers who sat atop two big wooden boxes.
They four nodded in response and brought the boxes closer. Once they'd dropped the boxes before the Captain, they pried open their tops to reveal swords and spiked cudgels. Each soldier picked the weapon that best suited him until the Captain called for their attention.
"While I admire your courage, not all of you will go out tonight" he said, glancing at the faces that looked up to him. Ben gulped as the Captains eyes fell on him.
"I need not just the bravest but the strongest, and that's why I'll be picking out some of you"
"Don't even bother fatty, you're not coming" he said, turning sharp
ly to Ben.
Glancing around, the Captain picked off eight more who were mostly comprised of laborers. They like Ben were kicked off the strike team. The Captain had a different assignment for them.
"You will show your bravery by tending to those who're trapped outside... Go get the stretchers ready" he said dismissing them.
"Now where were we" he said, turning to his strike team of dirt and sweat ladened faces.
"The archers will keep us covered, so you only have to worry about what's in front of you... Well I wouldn't say neglect your six"
"Anyways soldiers, you know what to do when you go out there, take them out and don't get scratched, bitten or killed"
"Let's wrap this up" he said, pulling out his own sword. At his signal, the gates were opened just as a few idling zombies fell through. These were quickly taken out with strokes of steel blades.
Once outside, the soldiers made their way through piles of dead bodies, momentarily stopping to run through bodies with the slightest form of movement. The archers took their time in shooting down the zombies hanging around. Every now and then, there was a sudden stroke of a sword that was followed by a mild groan leading up to a thud.
This continued until they got to the trenches where the Captain bent down and made three knocks on the dirt ladened wooden covering.
"Watch your six, we might have company" the Captain told his men who surrounded him. A low scraping noise sounded as the soldiers hidden in the trenches pushed open the wooden cover.
"Are we clear?" came the voice of the Head Captain from within the trench.
"Yes sir, we're clear and ready to move" the strike team's Captain replied. A little while later, the soldiers watched as the trench opened up revealing the Head Captain and thirteen soldiers who had survived the horde. They looked weary and afraid, save the Head Captain who was still agile. Once the trench had been opened completely, he climbed out with the aid of the team's Captain.
