“I like that plan a lot more than going room to room,” Bridges told him.
“I’m glad you approve,” Jack responded sardonically. “Security station. Go.”
Bridges took a slightly quicker pace to pull ahead and started leading them down the corridor, carefully finding his footing between the dead infected before passing into the next intersection. He checked left while Jack checked right, Tyrone continuing to secure their rear as they wound through the corridors of the first level of Redshield. Jack kept a mental map back to the elevator by remembering the turns they made at which alpha-numeric junction. He was surprised at the overall size of the facility so far. Though the ‘corporation’ may have approached the mayor of Woodhill a few years prior about owning the silvermine and building a structure beneath the town hall, Jack believed the facility had actually been there much longer. In fact, he believed they’d quietly moved in, perhaps as early as a decade prior, when the silver mine was no longer in use, and began work on constructing it. The question was: what were they doing up until the acquisition of Genetic Material X?
They encountered minimal numbers of the undead on the way to the security room, fortunately bypassing the larger groups Jack had seen on the monitors - or perhaps the groups had simply moved to a different area as they shuffled about in search of food. The sounds from the creatures, however, were still reverberating through the corridors. Groans and roars from the slower ones, and a few screeches - some long, some short - from the running variant. They went on full alert whenever they heard the latter, as the screeching sound often drew in more of the other infected, but so far they had seen nothing. And in some ways, Jack found it more alarming to have encountered so few infected, but nonetheless he pressed forward and simply kept himself fully alert for any threats. When they reached ‘17-J’, Bridges slowed their advance with a hand gesture and began to move carefully along the wall. At the next junction - a four way intersection - Bridges came to a stop and so did Jack and Tyrone. The younger soldier leaned forward and peeked around the corner, ducking back almost immediately.
“We’re here?” Jack asked in a whisper.
“Yeah.” Bridges returned as quietly as possible.
“The horde?”
“More than we saw.”
Distantly, Jack heard an echoing screech from a runner; it sounded somewhat closer than previous screams, but Jack hoped they would have cleared the horde before it, and any other undead with it, found them. Cautiously, Jack moved around Bridges and took a look around the corner himself.
“Shit,” Jack muttered as he backed away. The corridor was wall to wall infected now, at least fifty or more, all baying, howling and growling as they attempted to gain entry to the security room. Had something happened to cause the infected to renew their assault on whoever was trapped in there? Jack didn’t know why there were so many more of them there now, in fact, he couldn’t even hazard a guess, but he did know it was a problem. As soon as the first shot was fired, they’d all turn their attention from the security room door to the three far easily reachable morsels of food almost within their grasp. Jack looked to Tyrone.
“No grenades?” he asked.
“Didn’t seem to be the best idea for close quarters.”
Jack nodded. He was right, but still, it would’ve been nice for them to have the option.
“Bridges and I will go first, Ty, cover the rear. If needed, we’ll backtrack while gunning the horde down. Try to only fire kill shots; we don’t want to blow through all of our ammo on our first encounter,” Jack briefed.
“With this many up here, you think there’s going to be more downstairs?” Bridges asked, sounding more than a little incredulous.
“Do you want to take the chance?” Tyrone returned.
“Let’s do this,” Jack stated stepping out into the corridor again, his weapon raised.
Jack lined up the first shot and fired, executing what looked to have been a scientist in life. His supposition about the horde being drawn away when the first shot was fired was correct. A sea of undead heads began to turn, bodies twisting as they slowly rotated to regard Jack. He continued moving, straying almost to the corner on the opposite side to enable Bridges to take a position to his left. Jack and Bridges began to fire in tandem, shot after shot ringing out, as they fired careful, precise headshots. The infected in front fell to the ground, bloody wounds torn through their foreheads by the gunfire, and a chorus of growls rose as those behind became incensed. Screeches from within the horde announced the imminent arrival of runners, and after a moment, three running infected broke through the mass of slower moving targets. Jack shifted his aim low, cutting the legs out from one before finishing it off with another shot. Bridges attempted to do the same, but the creature darted suddenly, avoiding the shots before lunging towards him. Jack twisted his aim, and with Bridges assistance, he tore holes in the chest of the infected. The wounds were not intended to kill, but to slow the fiend when it landed, and their joint attack was successful. The runner slammed to the ground, attempted to claw forward, but before it moved Bridges brought his weapon to bear and executed it. The third, however, was coming directly towards him, and he had no time to redirect his aim. It was so close Jack attempted to go straight for the headshot, but in an unnatural display of reflexes, the runner shifted at the last possible second, sending Jack’s shot wide and into the torso of a slower moving infected. The runner closed the distance between itself and Jack with incredible speed, and then it screamed into Jack’s face as its hands reached for his throat. Stepping back, Jack swung his weapon around and the stock of the rifle was slammed forcefully against its forehead. Though it dropped to the ground it recovered quickly, snatching out at Jack’s legs with hands and snapping jaws. Jack was able to sidestep out of the way, then he followed up the dodge with a boot to the face. With the creature momentarily stunned, it allowed Jack to shift his weapon and aim down - to blow a hole through its forehead; causing a gory expulsion to appear on the floor behind it. Looking up, Jack saw the infected tide was drawing closer, more screeches and jostling from within indicating the presence of more runners who had yet to force their way to the front.
“Reloading!” Bridges called out, and with the momentary cessation of the barrage against the infected in the corridor, they advanced faster. Jack raised his weapon and began firing, dropping a creature with each shot until his own weapon clicked empty. Fortunately, Bridges had completed his reload and renewed his assault.
“Reloading!” Jack informed his teammates as he stepped behind Bridges, but in the same instant he realized their current position wasn’t going to be theirs for much longer, “Retreat!” Jack added as he ejected his magazine, slammed a replacement into his weapon and chambered the next round in smooth movements. Bridges was moving slowly, continuing to fire as he shifted back around the corner. Once out of line of sight, the trio began to move swiftly, heading back the way they had come to minimize the chance of a second group of the infected advancing on their flank.
A loud screech later, a speeding figure appeared in the junction, twitching and shaking its head in anger when it found its prey had gone. A moment later its dead eyes found them and it howled loudly and started forward. In tandem, Jack took out its legs while Bridges provided the kill shot - just as the slower moving horde began to move around the corner, some holding onto it with their dead hands and using their grip to pull themselves forward, their shuffling faster than it normally would be.
“Behind!” Tyrone called out, followed immediately by the dull thumping report of his weapon. Jack risked a quick look behind and saw that a pair of infected had shuffled into the rear of the corridor, likely drawn by the sounds of fighting and the screeches of the running infected. Tyrone seemed to have it under control, so Jack focused ahead again. Bridges was firing, and had already cut down a trio of slow movers on the left, so Jack took aim at the ones on the right, executing them as quickly as he was able to line up the kill shot. Tyrone was still firing, le
ading Jack to believe there were more behind than he had initially seen, but he left his teammate to deal with them until he called for help.
A runner broke through the infected line ahead, still holding onto a zombie it had barged out of the way. As it progressed, it used the slower creature as a shield which absorbed a number of shots that both Jack and Bridges fired at it. Whether it was simply luck the runner had snared an infected that way or whether it was a display of hitherto unseen intellect neither knew, but the runner used the infected as a shield until it had come about half way toward them, then it shoved the corpse forward and surged towards Bridges. The infected-shield dropped to the floor, some of the shots Jack had fired into it having passed through its head, so Jack turned his attention to runner as it neared Bridges. The younger soldier’s weapon clicked empty as he attempted to kill it, so he let the weapon fall from his hand and reached for his sidearm - just as the runner was on him. Jack started to take aim, hoping to execute it quickly, but Bridges reacted to the attack on him with surprising speed. He snatched the creature by the throat, exerting some considerable strength to keep it at arm’s length, while he brought his sidearm up and fired a point-blank, executing shot into the runner’s head. He was breathing heavily, obviously rattled by the close call, but to his credit he kept fighting, shoving the corpse to the ground and holstering his sidearm.
“Reload!” he declared as he returned to his primary weapon.
Jack refocused ahead on the encroaching horde, unsure if the screeching he heard was coming from the throng ahead or some source elsewhere, as the cacophony from the slower infected was almost drowning out all other sound. He fired, killing as many infected as he could while the team continued their retreat.
“Jack, behind!” Tyrone called out, forcing Jack to turn away. At their rear, a pair of runners was ahead of a group of maybe twelve regular infected. He switched, leaving Bridges to focus on the slower moving group they were retreating away from so he could help Tyrone with those they were about to back into. One runner was drawing closer than the other, so Jack aimed low.
“Legs,” he declared, stating his intentions to his partner. He fired a spread of shots, some missing as the creature dodged, but enough hitting to cut out its legs. Tyrone executed it with one precise shot, its head exploding outward onto the wall it collapsed beside. Jack shifted to the other, firing a pair of shots before his weapon emptied. He hadn’t brought the creature down, so he called out his need to reload. Tyrone fired at the runner, destroying its knees.
“I’ve got this,” Tyrone announced, so Jack turned back to the tide behind him as he slammed in his replacement magazine. The horde in pursuit of them was definitely thinning out, but there were still enough of them to be a threat. Worse still, he was aware they were about to pass by another junction, and with an avenue to the left and right, there was a risk of sudden ambush.
“Ty, clear the rear then push to the junction! Make sure there are no surprises there for us!” Jack barked as he aligned his next shot. There were maybe two dozen left, and it seemed as long as there were no more surprises they’d clear the horde and be able to return to the security room.
Gunshots ceased from behind, leading him to believe that Tyrone had cleared the group as instructed. Jack kept his focus forward, squeezing off shot after shot, taking those precious seconds to align his aim correctly to bring down each target with a single bullet. In tandem with Bridges, they had dropped a little more than half a dozen in quick succession - when he heard a sudden screech from behind.
“Jack!” Tyrone called out, forcing him to spin around and look at the scene before him. A pair of runners was forcing Tyrone back. He’d blocked them with his rifle, holding it across himself to prevent their snatching, clawing hands from ripping into his face, but their combined strength was forcing Tyrone to retreat towards the corridor on the right.
“Go!” Bridges yelled, picking up the pace to gun down the horde while Jack went to rescue his companion.
Jack turned fully, raised his weapon and advanced towards the trio as they disappeared down the corridor.
“Fuck you!” Tyrone roared, seemingly finding the strength to shove the pair of runners back. One briefly came in to view, but before Jack could fire at it, the runner charged back towards Tyrone. A lack of gunshots suggested to him that Tyrone hadn’t been able to finish off the other one, so Jack hurried forward, rounding the corner to find Tyrone in just the same position he’d seen him last, using his rifle as a barrier against the pair of runners, which were attempting to wrench it from his hands. Raising his weapon, Jack attempted to line up a shot, but the trio were twisting and moving so erratically Jack was concerned about hitting Tyrone instead. Letting the rifle slip from his hands to hang on the strap over his shoulder, Jack grabbed his knife from the sheath on his vest and moved forward. Snatching one of the infected by the shoulder, Jack yanked hard, dislodging it from its hold on Tyrone’s weapon before slamming his knife into the back of its skull. Jack ripped the blade free and stabbed twice more in quick succession, breaking through the skull and devastating its brain. With a final guttural sound, the infected went limp. Flinging the corpse to the ground, Jack started towards the next. With only one adversary, Tyrone was able to dislodge the creature from its hold on his weapon, pushing it powerfully against the wall. He stepped back, raised his rifle and fired a shot through the creature’s head, the bullet blowing out the back of its skull and slamming into the wall behind. It slumped down, leaving a gory streak against the metal. Breathless but alive, Tyrone looked at Jack and nodded.
“Thanks.”
“Let’s get back to Bridges,” Jack said, turning to hurry back to where they had left him battling the horde.
Bridges had done a good job of holding them back, but his slow retreat to give Jack and Tyrone more time, had allowed them to draw closer. The last dozen infected were so close they could almost touch the barrel of his weapon.
“Gee, I thought you’d forgotten about me!” Bridges commented snidely, ejecting his spent magazine as Jack and Tyrone took on a firing position, and began to discharge their weapons in quick succession in an effort to finish the last of them. The howling, clawing monsters hurled themselves forward without concern, and without understanding that their death, their true and lasting death, was fast approaching. As the final shot rang out, the clattering of the ejected shell tinkling in the corridor, Jack took stock of their surroundings, checking the other corridors and ensuring there were no more approaching threats or distant growls or screeches of undead on the way. But they had succeeded in slaughtering the horde from outside the security room, and in addition, killed a number of the infected that had been roaming the halls aimlessly. They were breathing heavily, but the battle was over for the moment. Looking to Bridges, Jack slapped him on the shoulder.
“How could we forget about you, Bridges? You’re the funny one,” Jack told him with a grin.
Chapter Five
JACK HAD FACED OFF against other hordes in the past few days, and standing in the corridor, releasing his spent magazine to reload a fresh one, he realized how difficult it truly was to put the masses of infected down. It sounded so easy on the surface: the infected were slow and shambling, and a single shot to the head would stop them. But when they were bearing down on you - growling, snatching and snapping - it wasn’t quite so easy to make a perfect headshot every time. It wasn’t easy to keep discipline and not try to fire just a little faster - to sacrifice accuracy to stop an undead from gaining just an inch on you. It was no surprise that when the hordes were in the hundreds, thousands or more, firing lines in the cities crumbled.
“The cameras look clear, Jack. I’m not seeing any more big groups on the monitor,” Emma reported.
“Okay, understood. We’re going to check on the security room to see what’s going on there. If it’s clear, we’ll come back and move as a group. Ridgewell, did you find anything on the self destruct system?”
“Nah, they didn’t put any
thing on this part of the network. I’ll have to get a look at the main system to see if there’s anything there,” Ridgewell reported.
“Okay. We’ll get back to you soon,” Jack returned. With a look between his companions to make sure they were ready, Jack started back down the corridor.
It was a little difficult to find easy footing because of the strewn nature of the bodies, forcing Jack and his companions to occasionally step on one as though it were a gruesome piece of carpeting. After a few moments, they were back at the corner to the security room. Jack peeked around it, making sure it was clear before stepping forward with his weapon raised. Advancing towards the elevator lobby ahead, Jack was able to see into the security room through the windows in the left wall. It was a large room with computers in the far left and right corners. There was a table in the middle with an electronic surface, the illumination of the operating system making it unreadable at his current angle. Jack couldn’t see anyone inside, however, and other than some drawing boards up on the walls between the computer banks and what appeared to be an armory locker in the closer left corner of the room - with a vending machine for drinks and snacks in the opposite corner - Jack couldn’t find anything that stood out. It was just a general security room. He tried to angle himself to see if someone was pressed up against the other side of the door - the only explanation remaining for why the undead were so adamant to get inside - but his view was obscured by a gray sofa. Approaching the door, also with a bar across the front like those on the living quarters, Jack hammered on it, hoping to alert anyone within to their presence.
“Hey! U.S. Military, open the door!” Jack commanded.
No response. Jack hammered on the door several more times.
“We’ve cleared out the undead, it’s safe to open up!” he called out, hoping there wasn’t some kind of sound proofing preventing the person within from hearing him.
The Z Directive (Book 2): Mutation Page 7
