Virgil's War- The Diseased World

by Larry Robbins

  Meanwhile, the red truck which had come around the curve first, braked sharply and skidded to a stop. The people in the bed of the vehicle bailed out and began running back to the aid of their friends in the demolished truck. They were fairly clustered together when they ran past another patch of blue flowers.

  The second explosion threw its own deadly assortment of shrapnel towards the driveway at waist level.

  Marie ignored the shredded bodies on the road, telling herself that they were not human beings, only enemy fighters who were coming to kill her husband and her friends. The people in the middle of the pack of running soldiers were taken apart by the flying debris. Of the fourteen people who had been running back to the aid of their fellow soldiers, only six had escaped injury.

  There was pandemonium now on the road as people screamed in pain and others rushed to render assistance or find cover. Marie scooted back as far as she could get while retaining her ability to see the stretch of road by the curve. She reached down and clutched the two remaining plastic radios.

  The hole that had been dug into the asphalt had been covered over with a piece of cardboard and spray painted black. The patch would never stand up to careful scrutiny but, with the attacking vehicles traveling quickly through the winding driveway, it was nearly invisible.

  The third bomb had been a full brick of C-4. The Hilltop people had positioned it at the exact apex of the driveway’s curve. The concussion from the powerful bomb washed over Marie after she pressed the transmit button. She felt the vibrations through the ground as the explosion threw asphalt, dirt, and concrete into the air. One enemy soldier went pinwheeling skyward.

  The sounds of the explosion and falling debris died away, and a hole the size of a parachute canopy now existed where the road surface used to be. The white truck was still near the curve when the third bomb detonated, and the back end of the vehicle was lifted and tossed over the edge of the drop-off. It rolled over three times before coming to a rest on its roof.

  Marie was about to trigger the fourth bomb when movement on the road caught her eye. A Jeep with two people inside came around the bend in the driveway. It was traveling on the dirt instead of using the road. The open vehicle skidded to a stop, and she saw the man in the passenger seat stand up and look over the roll bar. He had a walkie in his hand and started speaking into it. The Jeep was too far away for Marie to hear anything the person said.

  The standing man finished his transmission then tossed the radio to his driver. He climbed up on the roll bars and began scanning the topography around the ghastly scene of destruction. Marie watched as he seemed to be carefully examining every rock, hillock, and tree. Her heart froze when his gaze found her concealing foliage and stopped. He grabbed a set of binoculars from his driver and raised them to his eyes. At that moment, Marie knew she had been spotted. Not that the man had seen her; that would have been impossible because of the distance and the tiny part of her head which she exposed. Instead, she understood that this man had identified her position as the one most likely to be used for observing the attacking vehicles on the road.

  The former policewoman got to her knees and pushed the transmit button on the final walkie-talkie. As with the other three explosions, the little radio sent a wireless signal to its mate which was taped to the last block of plastic explosive. The frequency-mated device received the signal, and a tiny surge of electric current was routed through a thin wire to a detonator that had been stuck into the bomb. When the detonator went off, so too did the C-4 brick.

  The fourth bomb had been planted high on the hillside which ran along the north side of the driveway. The resulting burst sent tons of dirt and rock down onto the roadway about ten feet behind the smoking hole in the road surface.

  Marie allowed herself a glance at the results of her actions. The road at the apex of the curve was now gone, the entire span of asphalt replaced by a smoking chasm. Anyone trying to drive around the bend in the road would be met by an impassable mound of dirt stemming from the results of the last detonation. If it was possible to get over or around those obstacles, one would have to travel overland for a half mile before the topography would allow them to get back on the road.

  Marie looked and saw the man in the Jeep was now pointing in her direction. She laid flat against the ground and allowed gravity to cause her to roll down the rise behind her until she hit the bottom. The man in the Jeep had scared her. She was positive that he knew where she was hiding and would be taking steps to find her. And kill her.

  She scrambled up onto her feet and ran as fast as she could while keeping her head as low as she could. The ridge was just to her right, and she had to slow down whenever it sank low enough that she had to get on all fours in order to remain concealed. She stumbled once, and a patch of rocks abraded the knee of her jeans, and she felt blood running down her shins as she ran. The dirt bike was where she left it, and she struggled to pull it free of the branches, finally kicking away the last piece. There was a helmet on the handlebars, but Marie knew she didn’t have time for niceties such as that. She swung her leg over the seat just as the sound of multiple vehicles reached her ears.

  ✽✽✽

  The gruesomeness of the sight before me and the realization that I was out of bullets almost caused me to freeze. It must have been the accumulation of adrenaline in my system that spurred me to draw my knife. The man had reached me by that time, so I arced the blade of my weapon towards his neck as soon as I got it free. The blade bit flesh and warm fluid splashed against my face, some of it going into my mouth and eyes. I spat the blood from my mouth and grappled with my attacker. He was skinny, but he had real strength in his arms despite the horrific wound to his head and the now-severed carotid artery.

  The man-monster kept trying to get his teeth near my face, and I kept holding him back with one hand while ramming my knife into his abdomen with the other. I was shocked that a person who had suffered such grievous injuries could continue to fight with such vigor. My damaged ribs sent waves of pain through my torso as he bent me backward onto the ground and fell on top of me. He bore down with his full weight and drove his mouth toward my face. I smelled his fetid breath and felt the heat of it on my cheek as he forced his open mouth toward the side of my head. Saliva dripped on my ear, and I knew I was about to have it ripped off of my head, so I twisted sideways, growling as loudly as my opponent. The maneuver succeeded in distancing my face from his maw and allowed me to drive my knife deeply into a spot between his ribs. I felt the rapid pounding of the man’s heart as the blade pierced the organ.

  One of the effects of the horrible Rage plague was to render its victims almost totally unaffected by pain. The only way to kill them was to either destroy the brain or shut down the circulatory system. Through my knife, I felt the beats of the man’s heart go from steady surges to rapid flutters. He started losing strength, and I was able to flip him over, so I was on top of him. He continued to stare at me with that unwavering hatred that they always showed for the uninfected. I still don’t know how they were able to identify us as such. As the flutters devolved into infrequent shivers the man’s eyes lost their focus, and his hands released their hold on my arms. He looked almost peaceful to me as the organ in his chest finally ceased its motions. I couldn’t help feeling as if he was grateful that I had released his from his madness.

  I staggered backward and raised up in my trench, panicking when my pistol wasn’t in my holster, but I caught the reflection of my rifle’s barrel in the dim dawn’s light. I snatched it up and flipped the safety off. There were still scattered gunshots going off around me, and I heard shouts of pain to my right. Now that dawn was breaking I was able to make out the figures of Dee and Isaac. Dee was prostrate on the ground, and Isaac was standing over her, lashing out with his sharpened entrenching tool at the maniacs around him. He was using it like a battle axe, caving in crania and lopping off limbs. Dee wasn’t moving, and I could now make out numerous bleeding wounds on the big man.

&nbs
p; Now that I had some light, I was able to get a sight picture on some of the Ragers who were swarming around my two friends. I started sniping at the ones who were the farthest away, dropping five of them in short order. I saw that I needed to get closer to Isaac and Dee to be more helpful, so I abandoned the fox hole and ran forward.

  I could hear Isaac gasping for breath as I drew near. I raised my M-4 and started taking out the people who were clawing at him. I dropped one, two, three, four of them quickly. They fell dead at our feet. I sighted in on another one but felt hands grab my collar from behind, so I swung around and shot a beautiful young girl in the face. The madness fled from her eyes before she fell. Turning back to Isaac, I saw that only three more Ragers were bunching around him, but the man was physically exhausted. He was trying to push one big, obese man away from him but his actions were feeble at best. Isaac stumbled backward and fell to one knee. The fat man surged forward with his mouth wide open, and Isaac mustered up enough strength to swing the E-tool and chop the Rager’s leg out from under him. The infected man fell but still scrambled to crawl towards my friend leaving his limb bleeding behind him. I aimed carefully and put a bullet into his temple. The other two infected continued to advance until I shot each of them in the head.

  All the noise stopped except for the ringing in my ears from the weapons I had been shooting.

  A quick look around me showed that we were in no immediate danger, so I swapped out my partially expended magazine with a fresh one, slung my M-4 and bent over to Isaac. “C’mon, big man, we have to get you to the trench.”

  He was gasping for air but still managed to shake his head. “Dee…get Dee first, she’s hurt bad.”

  I started to argue, but I knew I would not be able to get his oversized body to safety without his cooperation. I saw his Glock was still in its holster, so I drew it and pressed it into his hand. Then I turned to where Dee’s body lay in the dust. She was slender but by no means light. I was still winded from my fight with the one-eyed man, but I was still in better shape than these two. I gathered her legs in one arm and her shoulders in the other. I managed to stand up and stagger over to the foxhole where I laid her on the rim and jumped down inside. Grabbing the body of the dead Rager under his arms, I pulled it up and out of the hole, then, as gently as possible, lowered Dee inside. I propped her head against the wall of the hole in case she threw up and then dashed back outside to where Isaac was sitting with his legs splayed out to either side.

  “Come on, Soldier, you need to help me here,” I told him.

  I pulled with all of my strength, but nothing happened until he pushed off of the ground and struggled to stand. Between the two of us, we got him to the trench, and I helped him inside. He lay back against the dirt next to Dee.

  I wanted to render aid to Dee because she was way too motionless for my comfort, but I still heard gunfire down in the valley below our hillock. I left my two injured friends in my treanch and searched around until I found my M-240 and one of the boxes containing the ammunition belts. There was dirt in the action, but I didn’t have time to do a proper cleaning so I blew out what I could, slapped in a belt and slammed the action shut. It was still dim enough in the early morning light that the infrared function of the scope showed me the blinking signatures of the fireflies worn by the other two members of our team.

  Both Buck and Marcus were now in the lower branches of the same tree. The tree wasn’t big enough to allow them to get any higher, but it allowed them to get out of the immediate reach of the infected ghouls below them. There were at least a hundred Ragers now straining their arms upward, trying to get to them. The whole thing reminded me of a scene from a zombie movie. Every time one of the poor shambling souls would get smart enough to try climbing the tree, one of my teammates would take him out. It was the only time they would shoot, so I deduced they were running out of ammunition.

  I swiveled the machine gun around and aimed at the biggest cluster. When I pulled the trigger, the earplugs I was wearing muffled the sound, but I could still feel my already-punished eardrums shuddering. In the dish-shaped clearing below us, the Ragers around the tree started dropping. More rushed forward, eager to vent their diseased fury on the two men but I had a workable field of fire now, and the sun was rising higher in the sky, giving me a good sight picture to exploit. With my two teammates perched safely above the danger zone, I let the remaining crazed murderers have it in short bursts just like Buck and Pops had taught me. When the gun went silent, I reached for another belt and was surprised to see Isaac holding one out for me. He had bleeding bite marks all over his body but he was ignoring the pain and soldiering on. I accepted it and threaded it into my weapon.

  The M-240 was designed to destroy large groups of enemy troops on the ground, and it was now living up to its purpose. The cluster of maddened humanity below the tree was thinning out now. I could see no more of them closing in on my position, but a glance showed me that Isaac was cradling my M-4, keeping watch behind me to make sure the crazies didn’t overrun us while we were attempting to save our teammates.

  We reloaded once more before the horde had diminished to a few staggering scarecrows.

  “Stay here,” I ordered Isaac. “Take care of Dee but keep a lookout.”

  I felt a little silly giving combat advice to a man with Isaac’s background, but he had been through an upsetting event, and I could see he wasn’t yet fully recovered. I found my Glock and changed magazines then pulled eight loaded M-4 magazines out of their case and tossed them onto the passenger seat of the Jeep. I started it up and rattled and bumped my way down the hill to the tree where my buddies were huddled. Dead bodies were strewn around the base of the tree and the smell they put out was indescribable. Once a person smells the odor of blood and opened bodies, they never forget it.

  A few of the infected saw me and drew close as I stopped a few feet away and I used the Glock to take them out. Once again I was gratified at the knock-down power of the ten-millimeter round. After dispatching the last of the Ragers, I drove the Jeep right under the tree and looked up to see Marcus and Buck on the limb. Marcus was grinning.

  “Can you guys get down?” I shouted.

  “Hell yes, we can get down, kid. You think you’re the only badass around here?” Buck’s face allowed one of his infrequent smiles as he scrambled down. “What the hell, Virgil? Why did you stop shooting your M-240 at these crazy bastards? We were overwhelmed. If it hadn’t been for this scraggly little tree, we’d be Rager chow right now.”

  I felt a little defensive as I answered. “You’re not the only ones who got overrun, Marine. You’re just lucky I was able to get free and finish the job.”

  Marcus hopped down the last few branches and landed in the rear of the Jeep. He saw the fresh magazines and grabbed two of them, shucking the empty from his weapon and replacing it as he spoke. “Damn, Virgil. Even as ugly as you are, I’m glad to see you. And I’m also glad to see these reloads. There’s nothing sadder than an empty M-4 in your hands with a group of mindless zombies are trying to eat you.” He finished his reload and stuffed the spare mag in his vest. “Speaking of which, have you seen Dee and Isaac?”

  The realization that our two friends still needed medical attention focused my thoughts. “Yes. Both of them are back at the machine gun nest. They’re hurt, especially Dee. We need to get them to Sharon, like right now!”

  No further words were needed, and we all piled into the Jeep and started up the hill as fast as I could safely go. Marcus and I lifted Dee out of the fox hole as gently as we could. She was still breathing, but we couldn’t wake her up. She was bleeding from numerous bites and scratches. We then helped Isaac pull himself free of the trench and got both of our wounded friends into the Jeep. While we were doing that, Buck got on the walkie and contacted the Major. He was still talking as I stowed my M-240 into the back of the vehicle.

  “What about this flank, Robert? Do you see any more infected or any of the enemy?”

  “Negative, Buck
, it looks clear. Get your wounded back up here, ASAP. We’re going to need you and that gun.” The Major was referring to my M-240, of course. That meant that a full attack was either taking place or imminent. We got all of our gear aboard, and I drove us back up the hill. We hadn’t killed off one hundred percent of the Ragers that had gathered here on the northern flank of the castle, but the few who remained shouldn’t pose much of a risk to us.

  ✽✽✽

  Marie Bronson frantically jumped on the kick start pedal. Nothing. She repeated her actions again and again until the bike’s two-stage engine began spitting and smoking. She gave a quick look over her shoulder and saw two vehicles bearing down on her, an older Chevy Blazer and a single-person four-wheel drive vehicle. The two machines were still two hundred yards back but coming on fast.

  Marie had ridden dirt bikes before but not extensively. Her father owned a modest-sized ranch in Wyoming, and she would take rides on his motorbikes when she visited. The big Yamaha on which Marie now sat was more powerful than she was used to, but that meant more speed which was just what she was needing right now. She batted the helmet off of the handlebars and into the brush then hit the gear shift pedal, dropping it down into first gear. She sped off, throwing a plume of dirt and grass high in the air behind her.

  The racket that the big bike’s engine produced surprised Marie, and so did the power of the thing. She allowed herself a brief moment of taking it slow so she could get a better feel for it, then glanced behind herself again and saw the two vehicles closing in on her. The Blazer had a driver and a passenger in it. The passenger was leaning out of his window and pointing a rifle in her direction. Marie cranked the throttle handle all the way and shot forward just as she saw patches of dirt explode off to her left.