“I got a handful on one runway,” Byrd reported, “probably a couple hundred yards out, and spread out.”
Wade added, “Same here on my runway. Nothing of consequence.”
“Got a couple hanging out by a closed hangar door, and a few more closer to the terminal,” Kowalski said.
Bretz pursed his lips for a moment. “So no hordes?”
There was a quiet chorus in the negative, and the men lowered their guns.
“Okay, we’re going to move up to the far end of the terminal,” the Corporal instructed. “Kill silently so we don’t attract attention. This terminal isn’t that big, so any noise out here will draw them to us.”
His team nodded, and he led them out of the brush onto the runway. They walked at a brisk pace but stayed as silent as they could, moving lightly. As a zombie turned towards them, one of the men darted forward and hacked its head off with a machete, barely breaking stride.
Mason, Flemming, and Hanson moved up and each stabbed a corpse in a trio of them loitering outside of the hangar door. Kowalski ducked beneath Hanson’s arm and attempted to open the door, but it was locked.
“So much for doing some aircraft shopping,” he muttered.
Bretz waved at him. “Come on, let’s get to the terminal.”
They moved down the wall and around the corner, and found an emergency exit that was dangling open. Bretz stepped inside and held up a fist, readying his rifle with one hand before quietly moving the door out of the way and moving inside. He stepped to the right quickly, so everyone could file in.
The seven of them stood and stared blankly at the massacre for a moment, horror evident on their faces. There was blood everywhere, splattered all over the walls, detached limbs sticking out of chairs. Several corpses lay next to bloodied luggage, their heads crushed in. The lights from the skylights kept the carnage brightly lit, shining off of the crimson coagulated to the side of the baggage claim.
“What the fuck happened here?” Kowalski finally broke the silence.
Hanson swallowed hard. “This probably would have been one of the first places the outbreak hit,” he said. “Those fast fuckers would have made quick work of people.”
“Happiest day of my life was when we figured out they were breaking down and becoming shamblers,” Kowalski said, letting out a long whoosh of breath.
Mason raised an eyebrow. “Anybody ever told you that you’ve led a sad life?”
“Enough with the chatter,” Bretz said. “Let’s get this thing cleared.”
The group immediately locked into the zone, and spread out in a fan across the large center aisle that cut straight across to the airport. As they moved at a steady pace, assault rifles raised and ready, zombies emerged, attracted to the footfalls. They staggered out of shops, bathrooms, out from around corners and hallways. One by one the troops fired, precise well-aimed shots to the forehead that dropped every creature that dared to pop its head out.
As they reached the center of the airport, Byrd stopped to inspect the TSA checkpoint. “Looks like this shit is sealed up tight.”
“Kowalski, see what’s on the other side there,” Bretz said.
The sniper in question broke the line and headed over to one of the inspection tables that was right up against the hard plastic barrier. He hopped up and cautiously looked over, miraculously seeing no signs of zombies or blood.
“It’s clear,” he reported.
“Good, hopefully the zombies are just contained to this side of the gate,” Bretz said.
Kowalski shook his head. “No, you don’t get it,” he said. “It’s completely clear. No zombies, no bodies, no blood. It’s like it’s completely immune to the shitshow on this side.”
“What are you thinking?” the Corporal asked.
Kowalski shrugged. “Hell if I know, but it’s definitely out of place.”
“Take Wade and go check it out,” Bretz said.
Wade moved and joined Kowalski in hopping the barrier. They landed on the thin carpet on the other side with their weapons raised. They worked their way out of the TSA line area, and headed to the front entrance. The door handles were chained from the inside, with various pieces of furniture stacked in front of them. In some spots the metal security doors had been rolled down.
“We might not be alone here,” Wade hissed.
“You sure as hell ain’t,” a voice boomed from behind them. “Now turn around slowly.”
Both soldiers raised their hands and complied, turning towards a Chinese restaurant counter. There was a middle-aged man with a younger woman next to him, both wearing security guard uniforms, pointing revolvers at them.
“I don’t know what y’all are doin’ here,” the man said, and narrowed his eyes. “But we ain’t got food to spare. And you better think twice before tryin’ to take what we got.”
Kowalski held out a palm. “Relax man, we ain’t here to hurt you. We’re from the military.”
“Uh huh,” the man replied, sarcasm evident in his tone. “Sure you are. That shit may work on other dumbasses, but that ain’t gonna fool me.”
The sniper nodded. “Hey, I understand. Can’t be too careful these days. But we’re from the military, and we’re here to help.” He offered a smile, and then gunshots echoed through the airport from the terminal side. “See? Those are our friends clearing out the rest of the terminal. There’s a whole mess of troops just to the east of town preparing to come in and clear out Spokane. We’re going to be using this airport as a base, and frankly we could use some help. Or at the very least, not be shot?”
The dark-skinned man looked at his shorter companion, and they shared a nod before holstering their weapons.
“Sorry about holding y’all at gunpoint,” he said with a sigh. “There’s some bad people out there, and I’d rather not take any chances.”
“Hey, we understand, really,” Wade replied, relaxing his arms. “Not the first time we’ve had guns pointed at us, and damn sure not gonna be the last.”
“Thank you for understanding,” the man said. “I’m Thomas, and this here is Ada. We got a few more in the back, too.”
“I’m Kowalski, and this is Wade,” the taller sniper replied, motioning between them. “What the hell happened here? How did you survive that massacre?”
Ada stepped out from behind the counter. “When the attacks started, someone at the TSA was smart enough to actually do their job and hit the emergency button,” she explained. “It sealed off that portion of the airport. We had some trouble on this side, but we were able to subdue it before it got too bad.”
“A lot of people fled, but some of us knew better,” Thomas added. “So we fortified this place up as best we could, and decided to sit tight and see if it blew over.”
“Well, it sure as shit didn’t blow over,” Kowalski said, scratching the back of his head. “But you lasted long enough for the cavalry to arrive.”
Thomas nodded. “In times like these, I’ll take what I can get.”
“So how many you got back there?” Wade asked.
Ada motioned over her shoulder. “There’s about ten of us. Most of them are passengers who decided to stay put.”
“And Benny.” Thomas sighed.
Ada looked at the ceiling for a moment and then pursed her lips. “Yeah. And Benny.”
Kowalski raised an eyebrow. “Who is Benny?”
“He’s one of the resident pilots here,” she said. “And he’s a bit on the cranky side most of the time.”
“He’s harmless enough,” Thomas added, “just not exactly the type of person you’d like to be confined to tight quarters with for weeks on end, if you get my drift.”
After sharing a glance with his partner, Wade asked, “What kind of pilot?”
“Helicopter,” Thomas replied. “He ran a sightseeing tour company here at the airport.”
Kowalski’s eyes lit up. “We need to see him right now.”
“What for?” Thomas furrowed his brow.
The sn
iper grinned. “Because we have an errand to run.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kersey looked out the window, staring at the golden hues of the sun as it vanished over the western horizon. After a long day of death and destruction, tactics and play, he let his brain shut down, just for a moment.
It was short lived, however, as David approached. “I have a status report for you.”
The Captain sighed, not looking away from the window. “You should take a moment and appreciate the view. Never know how many more we got.”
David didn’t answer, but approached the window, staring out at the sunset next to his apocalypse companion. As the clouds began to glow crimson, Kersey crossed his arms and took a deep breath.
“So, what’s the story?” he asked.
David turned to him. “Our west side teams were able to get to the school and fortify it.”
“Casualties?” Kersey asked.
His companion smiled. “None, actually. And they found a few survivors inside.”
“Unexpected, but I’ll take it,” the Captain said. “How are they?”
“They’re a little on the malnourished side, but other side healthy and in good spirits,” David reported.
Kersey chuckled. “Well, they have a few hundred heavily armed men defending them now. I’d hope they’re in good spirits.”
“I know I would be,” David replied.
The Captain leaned against the window. “What about our east side teams?”
“Cleared and secured everything to the waterfront and over to the bridge you specified,” came the reply.
“Good,” Kersey said with a nod. “Send down the order to hold tight and get some rest. Make sure there are guards on watch at all times, just in case they have some unwanted visitors. Same goes for the west side teams. They need to be well rested for tomorrow, because it’s going to make today look like a practice round.”
“I’ll send that out right now,” David replied.
Kersey held up a hand. “Before you do, can you please get Corporal Herrera on the line for me?” he asked.
“You got it.” David headed off, leaving the Captain for a moment to enjoy the last flickers of the sunset extinguishing for the day. He returned and held out a headset. “Got Corporal Herrera for you.”
“Thank you,” Kersey replied, and slid the unit onto his head. “Herrera, how’s it going out there?”
“We’re good, sir,” the Corporal replied. “Traded one bridge for another, but this one is a whole lot quieter.”
Kersey nodded. “If anybody has earned some quiet time, I’m pretty sure it’s you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Herrera said.
The Captain wrinkled his nose. “Is Gilbert behaving?”
“For the most part,” the Corporal said. “He’s had a few bouts of pouting but I’ve snapped him back into it real quick.”
“Glad you got him under control,” Kersey replied. “But soldier, I’m going to ask you a blunt question. Do you want me to replace him in your unit?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Herrera said, “No, sir. I’m going to make sure this motherfucker earns the lives he stole today.”
“Okay,” the Captain agreed. “If you change your mind, you just let me know, and I’ll promote him to head scout and send him into the heart of Spokane.”
The Corporal made a small noise of amusement. “Appreciate that, sir.”
“Well, you boys get some rest,” Kersey said. “Tomorrow is gonna be a long day.”
“Yes, sir,” Herrera replied, and then the line went dead.
Kersey removed the headset, but David held up a hand from his station.
“Captain,” he said, “I have Corporal Bretz on the line for you.”
The Captain put the headset back on with a nod. “Patch him through.”
“Okay, you’re on,” David replied.
“How’s that airport looking, Corporal?” Kersey asked.
“It’s clear and secure,” Bretz reported, “but something else has come up.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bretz stood on top of the apartment building they’d spotted earlier, flanked by Kowalski and Benny the pilot. Several civilian survivors dotted the roof, having come up from the units to greet their rescuers.
He held his radio to his lips. “When going upriver, we located some survivors in an apartment high rise,” he explained to the Captain. “We found more survivors at the airport, including a helicopter pilot who was nice enough to give us a ride over here.”
“How many survivors are we talking about?” Kersey asked.
“Ten at the airport,” Bretz replied, “and another forty or so at the apartment complex.”
Kowalski finished speaking with a few of the civilians and walked over, holding out his hand for the radio.
“Hang on, I’m putting Kowalski on,” Bretz said.
“Hey Captain,” the sniper greeted, “this building is going to be perfect to house some sharpshooters. We got a good view of the city, and can pick a ton of those dead fuckers off.”
“The next train is just arriving,” Kersey replied. “So I’ll pull some shooters from it and get them ready to move to your location. Assuming of course the pilot doesn’t mind flying at night.”
Benny threw up his arms, face growing red. “Bitch! I flew in ‘Nam under constant fire from those Viet Fucking Cong! Bullets ricocheting off of my windshield, dodging RP fucking Gs, and god only knows what else.” He crossed his arms with a huff. “After that, you think I’m afraid of a little goddamn darkness?”
Kowalski and Bretz blinked at him for a moment.
The sniper pushed the button on the radio. “He says he’s fine with it.”
“Good,” Kersey replied. “You boys head back here, and we’ll get a team ready to send back with you.”
“That’s not all, Captain,” Kowalski said. “Some of the survivors here said that there are more in the neighboring building, but they’ve been out of food for several days now. The whole tower is infested, so they can’t get to other apartments. We might need to get them out sooner rather than later.”
The Captain paused, and then came back, “Might be a tall order, Kowalski.”
“Captain, that building does have a better view of the waterfront,” the sniper replied.
Kersey sighed. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, tell the civilians to hang tight and we’ll get them moved to the airport on the next trip. Then you boys get back here ASAP.”
“Yes, sir,” Kowalski said, and handed Bretz back the radio with a grin.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kersey stared down at the train below the window, soldiers pouring out and unloading crates and supplies. “David, keep an eye on things while I go greet our new troops,” he said.
“Things are pretty quiet,” David replied, “but if anything comes up, I’ll come get you.”
“Appreciate it,” Kersey said, and then headed out of the command center. He made his way downstairs and outside, approaching the train.
A large bald man with dark linebacker shoulders barked out orders, towering over many of the troops that hopped to as soon as he so much as glanced in their general direction.
“I assume you’re in charge of this motley crew?” the Captain asked.
“Yes, sir,” the man replied with a firm salute. “They were motley when they got to me, but I’ve molded them into a well-oiled machine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Kersey replied. “I’m Captain Kersey.”
“Sergeant Copeland,” the man said. “Ready to do what needs to be done, sir.”
Kersey nodded. “I’m going to need snipers. Forty or so oughta do it.”
“Yes, sir,” Copeland replied. “They’ll be in a staging area outside your command center in ten minutes.”
“Make it twenty,” the Captain said. “I have a more pressing issue.”
The Sergeant raised an eyebrow. “What do you need, sir?”
“I
have some civilians in a high rise that need our help and who can’t wait for us to clear the city to get to them,” Kersey explained. “I need an incursion team that can work at night and get the job done.”
Copeland pursed his lips and straightened his shoulders. “With your permission sir, I’d like my team to take that task. We ran over a hundred and fifty missions with those parameters over in the Sandbox. None of the other men here even come close to that level of experience.”
“Copeland, I’m going to level with you.” Kersey took a deep breath. “I put another Sergeant in the field this morning, and he decided that trying to get a promotion was more important than following orders. He got several men killed as a result.”
The Sergeant narrowed his eyes. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”
“Granted,” Kersey waved a hand.
Copeland’s eyes blazed. “He sounds like a motherfucker who got promoted because of who his daddy is and not because of his ability to do the job,” he said, voice level and low. “You don’t have to worry about that with me, sir. I’m just fine being a Sergeant who gets to go out and kick ass on a daily basis.”
The Captain smiled, and then reached up to clap his new subordinate on the shoulder. “Assemble your team, Sergeant. Your ride is here in thirty.”
END
Coming up next: The Battle of Spokane
Dead America The Second Week (Book 11): Dead America: Heartland Pt. 4 Page 7
