by Allen Gamboa
"Just like driving my daddy's rig back home," the nun said, slipping into the driver's seat.
"Keep her running, Sister," Brooks said. "I’ll send one of us back when we have the plane secure."
"Right!" Sister Anne shouted back.
"Erica, Marie, anyone somehow gets in, you blast the shit out of them." The women nodded in unison. She looked over to see Calvin standing back from the others.
"What about me?" the parent asked.
"Here." Zoe handed him a tactical tomahawk. "Take ‘em off at the neck if ya gotta."
Calvin awkwardly took the tomahawk from her. He looked like he was holding a poisonous snake in his hand.
"Won’t hurt ya, mate." Zoe smirked. "It’s not loaded."
Calvin turned red and sat down on the bench seat, carefully holding the edged weapon in his hands.
"Everybody ready?" Brooks asked. There were nods and yeses from the group. "See this case?" She pointed at the biologic case sitting next to Zoe. "That case is very important. No matter what happens, it has to make it to the plane." She picked up the case and handed it to Newman. "You’re in charge of it, Sergeant."
"Don’t worry, Cap'n!" he said confidently.
"Good. Cord, you still with us?"
"Yes." He slowly got to his feet., a .45 clutched in his right hand. "Don’t worry. I start to crave something other than these damn power bars, I’ll do myself, Captain."
Brooks patted him on the shoulder and moved over to the doors. Both the presidents had a grip on the doors' handles, ready to go. Newman squeezed in behind them with his rifle at the ready. Brooks was behind the Aussie sergeant, followed by West and Wu, then Gonzo.
"Cheers, mate." West winked at Cord.
"Go kill a commie for me, Zoe." He coughed into his hand and winked back.
"Let’s go!" Brooks shouted as the presidents shoved the doors open.
CHAPTER 62: I GOT A BAD FEELING, NATE
"What the fuck?" Knox saw the figure of a man in a white lab coat sprinting out of the main terminal building, heading for the plane. The sniper fixed him in his scope, but he was a good quarter mile away. The guy looked like some kind of scientist. He was still too far away to get a good look. Knox took in a deep breath then slowly relaxed it as he gently started to squeeze the trigger. The former Marine prayed that this was one of the bad guys and not someone that was important to the mission. Right before he squeezed off a shot, at least two dozen deaders burst from the terminal building. Most of them appeared to be runners. "Son of a bitch!"
Sanchez saw it too: a lone, running man being chased by fast-moving flesh eaters. He quickly counted over twenty of the charging dead. They were all following the man, who was leading them straight to the plane. Surprised that Knox hadn’t already opened up on them, Sanchez began picking off the quickly approaching undead.
***
"Oh hell!" Crossley glanced out the cockpit window to see the hungry crowd of deaders rapidly stumbling their way. He looked over to where Jackson sat and saw the pilot staring at the gruesome scene quickly unfolding outside the plane.
"Start the engines, Nate!" Jackson said in a shrill voice.
"Those things can’t get in."
"Damnit! Start the engines!"
"We’re good, Cal. Those commandos will knock them out."
"I got a bad feeling, Nate. Who’s the dude they’re chasing?"
"Looks like some kind of scientist." He gave Jackson a hopeful smile. "Maybe Hale and the rest of the commandos are heading back?"
"Then why is that dude hauling balls over here?"
"Shit. I’ll start the engines!"
***
Sanchez had put down the two closest deaders and was drawing a bead on the third when he heard the roar of the cargo plane's engines revving up. It distracted him for a second, giving the fleeing scientist enough time to trip and fall onto the tarmac. Before either of the snipers could get off more shots, four of the fast movers had descended on the fallen scientist and voraciously tore into him. Knox was able to take out three of them very quickly, but it was too late for the scientist. Sanchez re-killed the fourth, but more were coming. They were up high enough that the dead wouldn’t be that much of a problem. If it was just deaders, they would be okay. Sanchez’s stomach started to rumble. He had a very bad feeling about all this. Where the fuck were Hale and the others? Sighing heavily, he re-scoped the growing crowd of undead. The whine of the plane's engines were drowning out most of the unholy moans, but not the terrible, terrible smells. Suddenly, there were several explosions to his left. Sanchez turned his head in time to see the ruined control tower explode and collapse into rubble.
"Gator!" Poncho shouted. "Gator!" Whatever remained of the tower structure caught fire and eventually fell in on itself. The lone sniper spun his scope over to the smoking remains in hopes of seeing any sign of his friend. Nothing but hanging, torn aluminum and burning, charred wood. "Fuckers!" Sanchez cursed as he started to scan the area for the owner of the grenade launcher. It had been an obvious trap they’d fallen into, and now Knox was dead.
***
"The hell was that?" Jackson asked.
"I’ll be right back," Crossley said, unfastening his harness. He grabbed up the Beretta and his other handgun and opened the cabin door. "Keep the engines running, Cal."
"No problem there Nate. Be sure you make enough noise so Sanchez can hear you coming. He almost shot me last time."
"Thanks." Crossley shut the cabin door behind him then climbed down the ladder to the cargo hold. Looking around, he felt strange. Just hours earlier, their plane had been packed tight with vehicles, gear, and people. The fuselage had been bursting with excitement and life. Now, it was just dark, quiet, and empty. He shivered a little as he neared the sergeant’s position on the aft ramp.
"Sergeant!"
"Mister Crossley!" Sanchez acknowledged him without looking back. "It’s a trap. Get back up front."
"Fuck!"
"Gator’s dead," Sanchez said sadly. "I’ll try and hold them off until I can’t. I get taken out and Hale's not here, you guys get the fuck out of here. Those drones will be here soon."
"Sergeant …"
"Just do it! Hopefully, our guys will show up." He squeezed off a shot. "Now go!" Several rounds crashed around the aft ramp. "Go!"
CHAPTER 63: SORRY, DMITRY
Arkady had been happy with the success of their first diversion. Doctor Fulci hadn’t been happy with the plan, but the snack-sized scientist didn’t have much of a choice. "Maybe you could outrun them?" Arkady had told Fulci. He very much doubted it, and he was right. But the whiney doctor had made it far enough out to lead a good number of zombies onto the tarmac. Once the soldiers on the airplane were engaged, the rest of them were able to sneak into better firing positions. Carefully aiming her grenade launcher, Kata was able to wipe out the tower. Now, Yuri and Dmitry were keeping the man on the rear of the plane pinned down. Kata and Vasily would make their way to the front of the plane and stop the pilots from taking off. The commander and Nico had the case and the surviving scientist with them in the safety of the empty admin building, waiting for the rest of the plan to play out.
"Yuri should have taken that bastard out by now," Nico grumbled as he knelt down behind a desk, holding Doctor Moreno tightly against him. "You should have let me do it!"
"I wanted you to," Arkady said calmly above the sounds of the firefight. He carefully peeked out a window covered in cheap blinds. "But you couldn’t take your prized possession with you," he said, waving the barrel of his AK at the wide-eyed Moreno.
"Commander Arkady, maybe we can reason with them?" Doctor Orlac pleaded.
"Is no reasoning. We kill American in back, then take plane. I’m sure the pilots want to live.”
“What about us when this is done?”
“Is not up to me, Doctor.” He smirked. “If it was up to me, you would already be dead. Now, do not be a burden, or perhaps I make decision for higher ups.”
***<
br />
"Yuri, cover me!" Dmitry said from behind their hide in one of the hangar buildings. "I’ll get over by that truck." He pointed to a ramp truck that sat halfway between them and the airplane. "Once I get there, I’ll cover you.”
Yuri nodded and swallowed nervously. "Dmitry, maybe we should wait?"
"For what?" Dmitry whispered loudly. "You keep fire on that back end so he doesn’t shoot me. When I get safely behind truck, I do the same for you. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Do not let me down!" He checked his AK and steeled himself to run. "Fire now, Yuri!"
The younger mercenary leaned out from the cover of the hangar and let out a burst toward the plane's aft ramp. Dmitry then leaped up and ran as fast as he could for the ramp vehicle. He heard the report of Yuri’s rifle as he sprinted for cover. To the mercenary's dismay, it sounded like Yuri had opened up on full auto. Dmitry was almost to the truck when Yuri’s AK went silent. Shit! The fool had emptied his weapon before he had made it to cover. Dmitry dove for the vehicle as a round from a rifle caught him in the shoulder. Surprised, the mercenary slid head-first into the front of the truck, smashing his face into the grill. So close, Dmitry thought as his life quickly drained from him. "Fucking Yuri!" A couple of deaders had seen the mercenary make a run for it and followed him to where he lay. Unable to fight them off, Dmitry screamed as the undead moaned at their good fortune and began with the eating.
"Sorry, Dmitry," Yuri sobbed as he fumbled with a fresh magazine. He’d used Dmitry’s run as a distraction to make a run for himself. While the sniper was busy with his partner, Yuri had ran for cover behind a fuel truck, which was a lot closer to the plane than the ramp vehicle. With his back against the fuel tank, he slapped in the magazine and racked a round. Yuri was in a better position to see the aft ramp, and he hoped the sniper hadn’t seen him move. The young Russian was right. The American was still busy watching the hangar area. Yuri could barely make out the still form of the American hidden on the ramp. He aimed at what he thought was the sniper and fired. Yuri thought he saw something move on the ramp. He almost jumped for joy when he saw a rifle fall to the tarmac with a loud clatter. The young man smiled widely, proud of killing the American sniper. He’d only wished Arkady and that bastard Nico had seen him do it. Yuri quickly looked around for any deaders. Only seeing a small group that was hungrily tearing apart Dmitry’s remains, he ran for the rear of the plane.
***
"Fuck your mother!" Arkady almost chuckled. He let go of the part of the window blind he held and leaned back against the terminal building's wall. He shook his head then looked over at Nico and smiled. The other mercenary was too busy fondling the terrified Doctor Moreno to notice the commander's outburst. Orlac, who was sitting next to Arkady, had. He could only imagine it wasn’t anything good for him or Moreno. "Nico! Nico!"
"What, Arkady?" Nico said as he sniffed a dirty handful of the doctor's brown hair. Through glassy, unfocused eyes, he smirked at the commander.
"That twat Yuri just took out the sniper on the aft." He clapped his hands together.
"Are you sure it wasn’t Dmitry?" Nico greedily ran his hands across Moreno’s back. The woman tensed.
"Yes. Dmitry is dead. Come, the plane is ours." He pulled Orlac to his feet and wiped his sweaty, dirty hands on the man's jacket. "Looks like your lucky day, Doctor."
"I don’t feel lucky," Orlac said quietly.
"Well of course." Arkady hefted the case off the floor. "You had to know this would catch up with you."
"Doctor?" Moreno asked as Nico sloppily tried to help her up. "What—"
Orlac waved her off. "Nothing to worry about, Kara. The commander is just …"
"Just what?" Arkady asked pointedly. Orlac closed his mouth and looked down at the dirty floor. "I see." The Russian looked over at Moreno. "Perhaps when we get aboard the plane, your boss can tell you what he’s really been up to." Moreno frowned. "Right now, though," Arkady shoved Orlac forward, "we have a plane to catch."
"And we have a date." Nico chuckled as he pulled Moreno close to him and followed Arkady out of the building and onto the tarmac.
***
Kata couldn’t hear or see any more resistance from the rear of the plane. Figuring Dmitry and Yuri had taken out the sniper, Kata waved Vasily out of their hiding spot, and both mercenaries ran toward the front of the aircraft. Kata carried her grenade launcher, which she’d used to blow up the tower, and pointed it at the plane's cockpit. Vasily followed behind with his AK. Several deaders had noticed the two and headed over to where they stood. Kata made sure the pilots inside the airplane could see the barrel of the multi-launcher pointed right at them. She waved a free hand, motioning them to shut down the engines.
"That’s a grenade launcher!" Jackson said.
"I know." Crossley looked down at the Beretta in his hand. “Lot of good this is going to do against that.”
“You think she’ll do it?”
“She looks pretty fucking mean, and she’s a Russian.” Crossley debated on whether to try and shoot her through the window. He knew the odds of hitting her or the other Russian were slim. “What about the commando in the back?”
Jackson just shrugged. He kept staring at the huge barrel of the grenade launcher. Crossley dropped the Beretta in a pocket then proceeded to shut down the plane’s engines. Maybe, just maybe, they could talk their way out of this.
***
"See?" Kata said to Vasily as the aircraft's engines wound down. "No one argues with this." She cradled the launcher in her arms.
"Da." Vasily looked around as the zombies were starting to surround them. "Kata!"
"Shoot them," she said over her shoulder. "I’ve got this."
"Okay. You get me bitten, you stupid bitch, and I’m going to eat you." He raised his rifle to his shoulder and started firing.
"You don’t know how to eat a woman, Vasily. Why start now?" Kata growled.
"Kata, Kata." Vasily shook his head and continued to fire at the shambling dead. "We must go! Too many zombies." More of the walking dead were surrounding them. Vasily was starting to get uneasy. Kata still stood defiantly in front of the plane, making sure the pilots killed the engines and didn’t try to take off on them. The approaching zombies could be dealt with easily enough.
"Don’t worry, Vasily." Kata didn’t hear the rifle shot, but she felt the warmth of the other Russian's blood as it splashed against the back of her head and neck. She quickly turned around to see Vasily clutching his bloody throat and dropping to his knees. The mercenary was trying to say something to Kata, but only bloody bubbles dribbled from his lips. Vasily crashed face first onto the tarmac, his AK-74 falling behind him. Kata took a step back and raised the launcher to a combat position. She determined in a hurry that none of the zombies were close enough to have killed Vasily. Rounds pinging off the ground next to her affirmed Kata’s guess that the Americans were responsible. As Kata angrily fired off two grenades from the launcher toward the direction of the admin building, a bullet tore some of the leather from her right boot. She jumped back and ran for cover behind the big plane's landing gear.
CHAPTER 64: HORSESHOES AND HANDGRENADES
As dumb luck would have it, Kata’s first grenade hit a deader that was making a run for Brooks' team. The round shot into the middle of its rotting chest with a sickening thunk. The impact caused a mist of putrid body fluids to splatter all over Wu and Newman. The projectile lodged itself inside the flesh eater's shattered rib cage, getting stuck in a mess of broken bones and decaying intestines. The round exploded, showering Brooks' team with bone fragments, black blood, rotting flesh, and ropes of nasty intestine. The second grenade bounced off the tarmac and rolled into the middle of the dazed soldiers. Before the explosive could detonate, Gonzo, who was the closest to the grenade, knew he had to get it away from the others. Mustering all his strength, he gave the grenade a kick worthy of the best youth soccer player, but missed. Slipping on a slick patch of deader juice, he fell back
ward, tripped over a rope of intestine, and landed directly on top of the projectile. Flat on his back like a turtle, Gonzo tried to roll off the grenade.
"Shit!" he shouted as the round detonated.
The concussion knocked Cord, Wu, and West to the ground as a shower of blood sloshed down on the rest of the team members. Ears ringing, Brooks wiped the medic's blood from her eyes and sent a burst from her mini-14 at the fleeing Kata.
"Bitch!" Brooks shouted as her rounds fell short. She fired another round then glanced over at the presidents, who were helping the others to their feet. Newman grabbed her blood-soaked shoulder and nodded toward Gonzales' remains.
"Poor bastard saved our skins," the big Aussie said, grabbing a deader intestine off his shoulder and tossing it to the ground. He disgustedly wiped off his bloody, gloved hands on his foul pant legs. The tarmac was now starting to fill up with a mix of fast and slow deaders. Gonzo's blood dripping from her cheeks, Brooks just nodded and fired another round in the elusive Russian's direction. "Cap'n?"
"We need to stop that bitch!" Brooks said, ejecting the empty magazine and slapping in a fresh one. "She’s crazy enough to blow up the plane!"
"Now, that would be bad," Newman smirked as he started running after Kata. Brooks was about to follow when she saw two of the Russians pushing what appeared to be two of the scientists in the direction of the plane's aft ramp. The captain also noticed the lead Russian was carrying a biologic case that looked a lot like the one they had recovered from the lab.
She raised her rifle to fire, but the mercenaries were too close to the scientist for a clear shot. Exasperated, she dropped her mini-14 to a loose combat position and shouted to the others.
"Presidents! Cord! On me! Zoe, Wu, get the Pit Bull!"
"On it!" Wu shouted as he quickly tapped West on the shoulder. She’d had her back to him, watching for deaders. She nodded at him and they headed toward the admin building.
