Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night

by Guenther, David

  “I’m Major Ronald Wilson, United…” Gloria shouted him down.

  “If you’re Major Wilson, who was that other bastard that was calling himself Ronald Wilson?”

  “That was Senior Airman Toby Wilson, my sick brother. Were you the one to finally kill him?” Gloria looked at him in surprise, and for a moment thought about telling him his brother was alive and turned, locked in a room with a future of a slow agonizing death from starvation.

  “The bastard turned, I did what I had to do. You don’t want to see him.”

  “With my parents dead, I didn’t want to see him when he was alive. I went down to the Fourth Avenue Jail in Phoenix and rescued him from dying of starvation. Him and his buddies took over what we’d setup here. It gave him a real kick to see me delegated to being a field hand, and pushing me around.”

  “Sir, are there any other military personnel among the survivors? Our camp needs more military and takes good care of their dependents.”

  “I’m the only military survivor, but there are three law enforcement survivors; a county jailer, sheriff’s deputy, and a Phoenix PD sergeant. All are good men, but it’s been rough on them. My brother’s friends weren’t the nicest types.” I got the real McCoy this time. Not going to hand off my command so quick and easy this time, if at all. But if my command is based on the UCMJ, then I have no choice. I could really use a drink about now, she thought.

  “Why don’t you find your men and try to bring some order to this group. I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, I just need to get something. Gloria returned to find the faux major still passed out. She looked around until she found a pair of pants, then reached into the back pocket and removed his wallet. Opening it up, she almost laughed when the first thing she found was a condom. She looked through it, making sure all the real Major’s documents were in there. Then she walked over to him and reached under his shirt collar for his neck and found the chain she wanted and gave a quick, strong jerk, removing the dog tags. She gave one last look down on him and smiled at the thought of his crippled body slowly dying of thirst locked in the room. She aimed her M4 at the back of his head and unloaded half a magazine then went to leave, tears flowing, making sure the doors were open for the other infected that were cowering in the building.

  The Major and another man were running to her, each carrying a shotgun. “Nothing to worry about, I had to put a sick animal out of its misery. Do we have everybody ready to go?”

  Wilson looked at her suspiciously, “What animal would that be?” Gloria reached into her pocket and removed the dog tags and wallet, handing them over to him.

  “Your brother. Are the people ready to go?” She didn’t sense any emotion from him as he collected his thoughts.

  We have everyone willing to come with us. I had to sell a lot of people to trust you. But you had them at sleeping behind high walls, I think.”

  “Okay, I just need to find a military radio to contact my people, otherwise your welcome would not be as nice as you’d like.”

  “I managed to have a communications tech mount radios in my jeep, it’s over by the gate.”Wilson accompanied Gloria on the short walk to the jeep. A quick glance at the four different radios had her confused over what to do with the complicated equipment. Wilson saw her confusion and pointed to the smallest mounted radio. “I’d try that one first, figure one of the ten preset stations is one they were monitoring your people on.”

  “Stallion Five, Stallion Six.” Gloria wondered how long she’d have to wait for a response when the speaker blasted out Master Sergeant Hales’ voice.

  “Stallion Six, Stallion Five, Go ahead.”

  “Stallion Five, I’m bringing home one hundred new citizens. Inform civilian leadership to have facilities setup and medical processing team. Earlier orders are cancelled. Threat has been eliminated. ETA three zero mikes.”

  “Stallion Five copies. ETA three zero mikes. Prepare to receive one hundred new citizens.

  “Stallion Six, out.” Gloria looked over at the Major. “Thanks for your help, Sir. I’ll lead the convoy out from here and back to Sanctuary. In a half hour, your people will be given exams, fed, and then setup with rooms. Later they will determine what jobs to be assigned. If they’re not happy with their job assignment, they can request something else or be allowed to depart. I’ll be pulling out in five minutes.” And boy, will I be glad to never see this place again, she thought, walking towards her truck.

  Trucks and cars slowly started to form a line behind her as she tried to concentrate on just getting back to Sanctuary, and not what had happened to her during the night, and what had happened to those who had attacked her. She only wanted to have a shower and forget, pretend nothing had happened. The last truck in the line of vehicles, a deuce and a half with a mounted heavy machine gun gave a long blast of its horn.

  Gloria pulled out slowly, the vehicle behind her tailgating her while the next few trucks kept too far apart. She couldn’t see how the others after those were doing. I should slam on my brakes and let the idiot behind me realize they need to back off some. I guess this is what cat herding is like. Aw for chrissakes, just drive fast and it’ll be over before you know it, she thought. The truck behind finally started to slow up a little as she drove up the westbound ramp of Interstate 10.

  Driving straight, she realized she was driving in auto-mode when she barely turned in time for the 303 North. With the long curvature of the turn, she could see the vehicles spread out behind her. It looked like almost every survivor out of the 100 survivors behind her had decided to drive a vehicle.

  “Son of a bitch! What now, for goodness sake?” Gloria could see in the distance the lanes were blocked except for the exit to Peoria Avenue. Then she saw a Stryker pull away from the other vehicles blocking the road as it headed for the exit slowly, a huge ‘Follow Me’ sign on its back. The cannon was pointed to the rear, facing her and those trailing behind her. The turret hatch opened and she recognized Sergeant Spradling, even with his helmet and brown and black checkered shemagh wrapped around his neck. He gave a big toothy smile and a thumbs up when he recognized her, and saw she was alone in the truck. She slowed down to follow him and the vehicles started to close in on one another. All side streets had been blocked and she became slightly nervous as they neared Sanctuary. The last quarter mile stretch of road was ahead of them when the Stryker slowed to a stop and another Stryker positioned itself behind the convoy. She noticed for the first time a new ditch was dug alongside the road making it impossible to turn around.

  “All drivers shut off your engines and leave the keys in the ignition. Everyone get out of your vehicles on the passenger side. Leave all weapons inside your vehicles. Once you are out of the vehicle, walk straight ahead on the road. You will be medically processed and then fed. After that you will be assigned to a dorm for the night. Anyone making a hostile move will be shot, anyone running from the vehicles will be shot. Welcome to Sanctuary.”

  As the vehicles emptied out, it was obvious many of the seniors would have difficulty making the short march. That was when a dozen golf carts pulled out from Sanctuary. Pastor Hilton was driving the first cart, bedecked in her holy robes. The mood went from apprehension to calm as she approached. Some began to smile. Gloria watched and felt like she just wanted to take a long hot shower and go to sleep as her energy started to slip away.

  “Glad to see you made it back okay, LT.” Master Sergeant Hale said from alongside her driver’s window.

  “Sergeant Hale, I’ll have a debrief later. Right now I want to take a shower before our new neighbors use up all the hot water, and then take a power nap. I’m going to pull ahead and park in my regular spot. And thanks for caring, it means a lot.”

  Gloria was stripping out of her clothes without giving it any thought before she grabbed her robe and towel. She plodded down the hallway, ignoring all others. Once the water hit her and she started to scrub, she seemed to come out of her trance and doubled over, puking and crying all at once as she tried
to scrub her top layer of epidermis off.

  Sitting on her bed, Gloria was at a loss for what to do next. She just lay in her bed curled up in a ball, wondering if she should have lunch, falling into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 36

  Rapid City, South Dakota, April9, 2029

  Major Walter Chapman scanned the roads and horizon in all directions from his seat in the third truck in the five vehicle convoy. Less than thirty survivors from Ellsworth AFB had managed to elude the Apocalypse Chosen. The cult had managed to convince over five hundred to join, over a hundred were military. Chapman looked at the civilian next to him. The old, heavyset senior was soaked from his sweating, knowing the Apocalypse Chosen had branded him a heretic and planned to burn him alive as a warning to all others who opposed them. Richard Etchberger had, until the first of April, had been the Secretary of Veterans Affairs. Now, by all accounts, he was President of the United States by virtue of order of succession. He was the last leader standing.

  The Chosen had managed to put up roadblocks and had roaming patrols, suspecting they knew where to find Etchberger. Chapman was making his play, get to Rapid City Airport, and steal a plane. The B-1 pilot was confident he could fly anything he found on the ground there. He just worried about those left behind, since it would be hard to hide a plane taking off.

  The approaches to the airport were empty, and the lead driver in truck one sped up in anticipation as he neared the terminal. He passed the buildings and continued through the unmanned security checkpoint to the row of hangars to the left, further away from the terminal itself and its infected inside.

  The Hawker Beechcraft 700 was parked at the last parking that was next to the Rapid City Aero Services hangar. It was only a ten seater, including pilot and copilot, but it was the best there was. “Larry, break off and get up over to that white jet with the yellow stripes.” The rest of the vehicle drivers saw where he was heading and surrounded the aircraft, setting up an instant perimeter defense.

  “Larry, you keep the man in the car with you, even if you have to sit on him. I have to check out the plane.”

  “Sure, no problem, boss.” Etchberger looked into the review mirror from his seat in the back of the SUV.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” he sputtered, incensed for them to make a joke at his expense. His only reply was a single eye brow raised slightly that he glimpsed in the rearview mirror.

  I can’t believe something is finally going my way, Chapman thought as he reviewed the aircraft forms. This bird set down right before all the shit happened and was prepping to take off. I wonder what happened to the crew? Grabbing the checklist, he started his preflight, anxious because he’d never worked this airframe before, and that it had spent the last eight days sitting on the ground. As he did the walk around, he was relieved to see a fire bottle and auxiliary power unit prepositioned in front of the plane for takeoff. I just need to figure out how many bodies I can stuff into this thing if I reduce my fuel load. There’s no way I can get this thing up with thirty people inside. The bark of rifle fire distracted him from his math as he ran to see what was happening.

  Two hundred feet away, a CH-47 was disgorging thirty men from its open rear. Most of the guard force was firing on them with hunting rifles and a few M4s. The CH-47 lifted off and, the door gunner fired a five second burst of fire into the closest SUV, igniting it, then the gunner stopped as the helicopter rose higher and hovered safely away from the ground battle.

  The attackers were as timid as the helicopter crew, slowly advancing on their bellies across the grass field, occasionally trading shots with the defenders. Looks like the door gun is down, or this would be all over all ready. The second I start the engines though, the ground pounders will shift their fire from the trucks and SUVs to the plane, and it’s all over. What the hell can I do? We can’t even run since the helicopter will follow us and radio our location, Chapman thought panicking, here goes nothing. It took a moment for him to find the switch he needed, then flipped the switch for battery power, picked up the headset and tried to set the radio to 243.0, Military Air Distress, then cursed and thought for a moment before tuning in 121.5 International Air Distress. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Air Force One with an emergency. Air Force One is on the ground at Rapid City Airport, and under attack. Repeat, Air Force One is under attack on the ground at Rapid City Airport.” Chapman, sat back and waited for any reply.

  “Air Force One, this is Chosen 01. We will be at your location in ten mikes. We have fuel and wood for burning the heretic. If you and the others give him up you will be allowed to live.” Disgusted, he turned the radio off and switched the battery to off. Looks like it’d be too late for the cavalry anyway, he thought.

  Back outside the plane, he was amused that the enemy force had not advanced any further and was happy to fire only the occasional shot to try to keep his people’s heads down. Damn, they’re afraid of hitting Etchberger. Waiting for more forces so they can overwhelm us. Chapman saw the two dots in the distance and knew that time was up. The two dots grew as they neared and he could see they were a pair of Black Hawks. They approached the troops on the ground and flared in, rapidly deploying ten troops from each. Both helicopters made a quick Passover without firing. That encouraged the troops on the ground to get up and charge across the remaining hundred feet of open flat land.

  The Black Hawks came in flying a tight formation over their troops, both ships were skewed to the right so their door gunners could fire forward to keep the defenders’ heads down. The same moment the first ship opened up, the second ship opened up on the lead ship. The Black Hawk showed only a quick puff of black smoke, then did an uncontrolled dive into the ground and burst into bright orange flames and thick black smoke.

  There’s my chance! I gotta go now! Chapman thought. He retook his seat and began to run the checklist to start the plane as the sound of gunfire increased in tempo. The Black Hawk did another gun pass over the troops in the open, a dozen men seemed to explode while others danced and fell only to keep jerking once on the ground. The copter banked to its right after its last pass, planning to come around and did not see the plume of smoke heading towards it until the last second. The helicopter shot out its chaff, but was too little, too late. The twenty remaining attackers rose and were surprised when the CH-47 flew over them, providing cover fire. The defenders knew the time to show their last hand had arrived as they pulled out three M240 from their trucks and opening up on the helicopter, taking it by surprise. 7.62 rounds shredded the gunner before moving to left, taking out the Plexiglas canopy and the lone pilot behind it who lost control when his flight helmet and his head inside burst like a ripe melon from the three machine guns converging on him. He fell forward, pushing the collective down as his hand inadvertently reduced power on the throttle. Those below had no time to run as the huge helicopter dropped down in the center of them, igniting into a fireball, blowing shrapnel in all directions. The heat of the explosion blew over the trucks as the remaining survivors rose from behind the vehicles and charged towards the enemy. They stopped before they got to the burning grass, the black and red lumps in the grass shrieking and making unintelligible noises. As one, they turned to head back towards the aircraft.

  Captain Sebille climbed into the copilot’s seat next to Chapman. “All the bad guys are dead. The president is strapped in and we have fourteen passengers with eight seats. Think we’ll get off the ground?”

  “Did you move the chalks and APU out of the way, Larry?” Chapman replied as he looked over the gauges.

  “We’re golden. Hatch is locked and those with seats are buckled in. The rest are holding on tight.”

  “Okay, I performed the preflight and engine start, ready to roll.” Chapman advanced the throttle slightly, surprised the only reactions was the sound of the engines increasing. Advancing the throttle slightly more, the plane began to move, slow and painfully low, there was no sensation of the plane bouncing at all as it taxied forward, feeling more like a dump truck
. “This cow is not filling me with confidence, but I’m not leaving anyone behind to be a human torch for those bastards.” Chapman maneuvered down the taxiway until he reached the end of the runway and turned onto the runway, feeling odd having no radio chatter. Advancing the throttle all the way, it seemed like the plane had other plans and then he looked down and watched the indicators as speed increased but still not fast enough for takeoff. He neared the end of the runway and had to make the decision to either take off or use the available runway to abort takeoff. It seemed seconds and Chapman was at the end of the runway, gently pulling back on the wheel. “Raise the landing gear. We need all the airspeed we can get.” He felt the thump of the gear and then the doors closing after. Air speed was picking up as they slowly gained altitude.

  “Looks like there’s no nav charts and I’m not familiar with this antiquated navigation system. Well, head south to avoid any mountains and then head west to Wyoming and try to contact any friendlies for navigation assistance. Worst case scenario, we’ll find a spot of interstate to land on.”

  Chapter 37

  Douglas City, Wyoming, April 9, 2029

  The activity seemed too comical to Caleb as he stood by his truck as additional cases of MREs were loaded in vehicles and he noticed everyone had managed to find either an ice chest or Styrofoam chest to store perishables along the ride. Fotos and Angel seemed to be more in the way than helping, in his opinion, so he stayed out of the way and watched. Wetzel and his two men, almost looking like they were having fun; all were nice and relaxed, ready for an adventure. He longed to be an Airman again and have that comradery. He could hear Brown laughing in the back seat of the armored truck and decided to see what was so funny. Opening the door, he couldn’t see the laptop’s screen, but he could see Asher fighting to keep from laughing. “Out with it, asshole. I need a good laugh, too.” Brown hesitated for a moment, then turned around the laptop so the screen was visible.