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Infection Z: The Apocalypse

Page 30

by Gary Chesla


  “Doc?” Martinez asked. His voice shook as he spoke. “Am I infected? You’re not going to toss me out of the helicopter?”

  Doc knelt down in front of Martinez and spoke quietly.

  “Martinez, you are displaying the early signs associated with the infection,” Doc said. The doctor knew what would soon happen next, but he wanted to try and comfort Martinez in his final minutes. “There is a possibility that you will become infected. Until we know, it will be necessary that we restrain you, so if you do become infected, you will not pose a danger to the others. Is that OK?”

  “Hell yes,” Martinez replied. “I don’t want to be responsible for infecting any of you. Shit! I thought I was going to make it when the Seahawk got in the air. Just promise me one thing, Doc.”

  Doc nodded.

  “Don’t throw me out of the helicopter until you know for sure,” Martinez continued. “You’re sure if I change and become like that, I won’t feel any pain?”

  “If you become one of the infected, and I repeat if,” Doc replied. “I’m sure you won’t feel a thing.”

  “Who are you shitting Doc,” Martinez said. “I’ve seen this spread through our base. I’ve watched my friends become infected. It’s not a pretty sight. I’d prefer you just shoot me when you know for sure.”

  “Just relax,” Doc said and got up from the floor and looked around to be sure all the men were wearing their masks.

  “Davis, would you please secure Martinez?” Doc asked.

  Davis grabbed some rope and walked over to Martinez.

  Martinez held out his hands, putting his wrists together for Davis to tie his hands together.

  Davis then moved down and tied Martinez’s feet together.

  Martinez looked up at Davis, “Now tie the ropes around my wrists and ankles together and leave about four feet of line so you can pull me over to that door when I turn. I don’t want you to get too close and get bitten.”

  Davis did as Martinez said.

  When he was done, he sat down next to Martinez.

  “What the hell are you doing? I’m infected, get the hell away from me,” Martinez said. “Are you crazy?”

  Davis smiled, “Shut the hell up, Martinez. I have a mask on. You know I don’t have many friends left, in fact I’ve never had all that many friends. If I were in your position, I would appreciate spending my last few minutes with someone who cared, rather than being treated like I had the plague.”

  “Thanks, Davis,” Martinez replied. “I’ve never wanted to die alone. This scares the hell out of me.”

  “It scares the hell out of all of us,” Davis said. “If you die, you aren’t going to be alone. Honestly Martinez, I believe all of us are going to die. I don’t think any of us are going to survive this. I would just hate to be the unlucky bastard to be the last man alive. That man is someone that when he dies, he will truly die alone. Just thank your lucky stars that you aren’t going to be that man.”

  “You always were a slick talking son of a bitch,” Martinez grinned. “The man that could sell refrigerators to the Eskimos. I remember when you convinced that one stripper down at Charlie’s to let you drive her home after work one night. You told her you were the only man sober enough for her to trust.”

  “I was,” Davis grinned.

  “You were the drunkest one of all of us. Why the hell she didn’t drive herself home?” Martinez said. “She must have been drunk out of her mind to let you take her home.”

  Davis grinned. “I had latrine duty for two weeks when the Chief caught me sneaking into the base the next morning. But I will tell you Martinez, it was well worth it.”

  Davis looked over at Martinez, waiting for Martinez’s comeback, but Martinez was now just sitting there with his head hanging down over his chest.

  His entire body was slumped against the wall.

  At that moment, Davis knew that Martinez was gone.

  He felt sad about the fact that he had just lost a friend.

  But when his time to go came, Davis hoped he would be as lucky as Martinez.

  Davis had seen men savagely bitten, flesh torn from their body. He had seen them in agony up until the infection took them.

  Martinez had somehow acquired the infection without knowing it, then had died quietly.

  In a way, it was a miracle after all the death and suffering they all had been subjected to over the last week.

  As Davis looked at Martinez, watching the color drain from his skin and his body become a pale gray corpse, Martinez’s eyes shot open.

  His eyes, now clouded over by a milky film, locked onto Davis.

  Then Martinez began to groan.

  Doc walked over to Davis, “That was a good thing you did for Martinez. Go sit down, I’ll take care of the next part.”

  “That’s OK Doc,” Davis replied. “You just get the door for me. I always threatened Martinez that I was going to toss his ass out of plane over the Nevada desert. I’d like to keep my promise.”

  The doctor smiled, turned and slid open the cargo bay door.

  When they were done, the doctor took a quick look at all the men and then went to the front of the helicopter to see the pilot.

  Doc hoped they would reach Granite Mountain before any more problems developed.

  It took another hour for the helicopter to reach the Granite Mountain Records Facility.

  The engine began to miss and sputter as they approached the southern end of the road at the facility.

  The pilot’s voice came on over the intercom.

  “We didn’t get a complete load of fuel before we left Fallon.

  However, I believe we can still reach the facility with the fumes we have left.

  It will probably be a rough landing, so hang on tight to something.”

  The men grabbed onto the supports hanging from the cargo bay wall.

  The pilot brought the helicopter in low, in case they didn’t make it to the road below, hoping that the low altitude would minimize the impact.

  The pilot tried to encourage the helicopter to stay in the air for another minute, but the Seahawk just couldn’t do it.

  As the Seahawk passed through the gap in the mountainside that opened up to allow access to the southern end of the roadway, the engine stopped.

  The helicopter dropped and hit the end of Canyon Road and began to slide into the wall of granite at the side of the road.

  The force of the collision crushed the front of the helicopter.

  The Seahawk began to tilt to the right and slowly rolled onto its side.

  The one-way trip from Fallon to Granite mountain had ended as badly as it had begun.

  Chapter 33

  Tuesday, May 11th, Granite Mountain, Utah

  Doc slowly rolled off the pile of bodies in the cargo bay.

  He sat up and checked himself over for injuries.

  After being fairly certain that he hadn’t sustained any injuries that needed immediate care, he turned his attention to the others.

  The men in the helicopter had been first thrown towards the front of the cargo bay when it crashed onto the roadway, then before they knew what had happened, they found themselves falling on top of each other as the Seahawk rolled onto its side.

  Most of the men had been prepared for the initial crash, but when the helicopter rolled over, the men didn’t know what to expect.

  Their bodies were thrown together as they landed on top of each other at awkward angles with arms and legs bent and twisted painfully.

  Doc looked back at the men as they began to move around.

  Chervanak rolled over and struggled to his feet as he rubbed his head and looked around.

  “Are you alright, Chervy?” Doc asked.

  “I’ll let you know when these stars get out of my face,” Chervy replied. “I feel like someone kicked me in the head.”

  “Damn,” Roger said as he crawled to his knees.

  “Rogers, get the hell off of me,” Davis growled, “You’re going to break my damn le
g.”

  “Sorry,” Rogers said as he tried to stand, but tripped and fell on his ass.”

  Two other men groaned as they crawled along the side of the cargo bay, but the final member of the group laid motionless with his body resting against the door.

  Doc noticed the motionless man and walked over to examine him.

  Doc first reached down to check the pulse in the man’s neck, but by the angle of my man’s head, Doc knew what he would find.

  He touched the man’s neck then stood.

  “Damn, this trip was almost as bad as staying back in Fallon,” Rogers said.

  “Just be happy you’re here and not back at Fallon,” Davis said.

  “Are the rest of you OK?” Doc asked. “Any cuts or possible broken bones?”

  Each man confirmed that other than a few bruises, that they all thought they were OK.

  “Davis,” Chervy said. “Go check and make sure this thing isn’t about to catch fire before we can get out.”

  “Roger’s help Davis get this door open,” Chervy continued as he looked above his head at the sliding door to the cargo bay.”

  Rogers put his hands together to give Davis a boost up so he could reach the handle on the sliding door.

  “While you men get the door open, I better check on the pilot,” Doc said. “He should have been back here by now.

  Rogers held on to Davis’s legs and moved him towards the back of the helicopter as Davis hung on to the door, slowly pulling it open.

  Doc walked up and opened the door to get into the control center of the Seahawk.

  Doc was shocked to see that the front of the helicopter had been pushed back into the compartment and was now only a few feet away from the door.

  The pilots bloody smashed body laid motionless, crushed when the front of the helicopter was pushed back into the pilot’s seat.

  Doc turned and went back with the others.

  They would free and bury the pilot later, but right now he needed to be sure they all were able to get out of the helicopter before anything else happened.

  Davis pulled himself up through the door and climbed up on top of the helicopter.

  “What’s it look like out there?” Chervy asked.

  “The front of the helicopter looks like it’s gone,” Davis called back down through the open door, “but I don’t see anything burning. I think since we ran out of fuel, there wasn’t anything to ignite.”

  “Can you see anyone up near the facility?” Chervy asked.

  Davis turned and looked down the roadway.

  The Records Facility was about a half mile away at the end of the road.

  “I don’t see any people,” Davis replied. “I can see one of the jets parked off to the right up there, but I don’t see anyone moving around.”

  “You only see one of the jets?” Chervy asked. “I counted eighteen jets taking off from the base earlier. Where the hell are the rest of them? They have to be somewhere.”

  Davis stood and turned to look back up towards the jet he saw at the end of the road, then he began to scan the mountain cliffs above the road and the facility.

  “What’s the facility look like?” Rogers asked.

  “It just looks like a big concrete and metal barred barrier or gate built into the mountain side,” Davis replied. “It’s like when they build a tunnel through a mountain on the turnpike, except this has bars on it to keep you out.”

  “Do you see any of the other jets?” Chervy asked.

  “Give me a minute,” Davis replied as he looked around.

  As Davis looked past the end of the road he saw something.

  As he scanned the rocky mountain side off past the facility, he saw them.

  “Cherv, you might want to come see this,” Davis said. “I think only one of the jets made it.”

  “Give me a hand,” Chervy said to Rogers.

  Rogers rushed over and gave Chervy a boost up to the open door.

  Davis helped pull Chervy up on top of the helicopter.

  “Give me a boost too,” Doc said, and followed Chervanak up top.

  When the doctor and Chervy were up top with Davis, Davis pointed beyond the end of the road by the facility.

  “Over there,” Davis pointed to three smoldering piles of wreckage down over the hillside beyond the entrance to the facility.

  “Over there too,” Doc pointed to scattered wreckage across the mountainside, much higher up on the cliffs above the ones that Davis pointed out.

  From where the men stood, it was impossible to count how many different sites they were looking at, but knowing that eighteen jets had been sent here, they could easily guess the answer.

  “I can’t believe only one made it,” Davis said.

  “There may have been more than one,” Doc replied as he scanned the area, then settled his gaze on the entrance to the facility.

  “But I can only see one plane in front of the entrance,” Davis replied.

  “When the Captain gave the orders for the jets to fuel up and head out this way, he told Sanders that they might be able to land on the road.” Doc added. “I also heard him tell Sanders that if they thought they couldn’t land safely on the road, they should bail out and parachute down to the facility. It’s my guess that Sanders was able to land and that’s his plane near the entrance. I would also guess the planes you see down past the end of the road had run off the end of the road and crashed. After that, the rest of the squadron decided it was too dangerous to land and they all bailed out over the facility. Their planes are up there near the top of the mountain peaks because they would have ejected at a higher altitude to give their parachutes a chance to open so they could float down to the facility.”

  “God, I hope that’s what happened,” Chervy said. “I’d hate to think that only one of those guys made it. If that’s what happened, where do you think they are?”

  “That is what is puzzling me,” Doc replied. “His orders were for the pilots to set up a secure perimeter at the end of the road near the entrance to the facility and wait for the Seahawks to transport the rest of the base.”

  “Maybe when the base was overrun, they moved inside,” Chervy added.

  “But I don’t believe they knew the base had been overrun,” Doc replied. “The base didn’t have any power and the communications were down. The Captain was using a handheld radio at the base to give orders, but that small radio wouldn’t have had the range to reach clear out here. The range of that handheld radio was one to five miles at max. There was no way they would have known what happened back at the base. Besides, both of the Seahawks had dropped off about fifteen men each with supplies. There should be at least a few men manning positions around the entrance.”

  “Maybe they are there and we just can’t see them from here,” Davis added.

  “Even if that were true, when our helicopter crashed down here, they should have seen us and sent a few men down to see if anyone survived the crash,” Doc replied. “Someone should have been sent out to see if we needed help.”

  “Whatever the reason, we aren’t going to get any answers out here,” Chervy said. “Let’s get everyone out of the helicopter and go up to the entrance and see where they all are.”

  Davis, Doc and Chervanak had Rogers and the two men in the cargo bay toss up the packs of supplies, a length of rope and the rifles.

  Then they pulled the men up top.

  They tied the rope to the helicopter door and one by one, descended to the roadway below.

  “Load your weapons and have extra ammo ready,” Chervy ordered. “We have to assume the worst. Davis, take point. Rogers take port side, “I’ll take the stern, you two men, watch our back. Doc, if you would stay in between us and just keep your eyes open.”

  “Do you have an extra rifle?” Doc asked. “I’ve been known to fire a rifle from time to time over my career.”

  “Sorry Doc,” Chervy replied. “The extra weapons were supposed to be on the other Seahawk.”

  The Doc bent
down and picked up a bar on the road that had been part of the landing gear.

  “I’ve seen you guys shoot a rifle,” Doc grinned. “If we run into any problems, I don’t intend to be unarmed.”

  Chervy smiled, “OK, take your positions and let’s go find out why we didn’t get a warm welcome to Granite Mountain.”

  The men strapped on their backpacks, took their rifles, got into formation and began to walk up the road to the entrance of the facility.

  They were half way to the entrance when Davis stopped and held up his hand.

  The group stopped and strained to see what had Davis’s attention.

  After a minute of waiting, Chervy walked up slowly behind Davis.

  “What is it?” Chervy asked.

  “I’m not sure, I thought I saw something move,” Davis said. “But I guess I was wrong. I don’t see a damn thing but rocks up there.”

  “Just keep looking,” Chervy replied. “Stop when you get to the F-18. We’ll regroup and decide how to proceed from there.”

  Davis nodded, dropped his hand and started walking again towards the entrance and the F-18 which was sitting about one hundred feet in front of the large concrete and metal structure built into the mountainside over the entrance to the tunnel.

  When Davis reached the F-18, he moved alongside the plane, putting it between him and the entrance to give him cover should anyone be looking out.

  The others gathered around Davis.

  “Did you get another glimpse of whatever you thought moved before?” Chervy asked.

  “No, nothing,” Davis replied. “It feels like the place is a damn ghost town. Where the hell could they be?”

  “Cherv,” Doc whispered.

  When everyone turned to look at the doctor, he held his finger up to his lips to signal them all to be quiet.

  The doctor turned and pointed to the base of the cliff to the right of the entrance.

 

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