The distant glow of the massive controlled-burn forest fire, that corralled the ‘red zone’ in its entirety, gave the midnight sky an ominous red glow and filled the air with the stench of smoke.
One of the soldiers manning the checkpoint slapped an Ace of Hearts down on the hood of the Humvee, grinning.
The other soldier groaned and tossed down his cards. He pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill from his pocket.
“I swear you’re fishing me, Young,” the soldier said as he tossed the bill on the hood.
“Nah, Diaz, you’re just green,” Young said as he collected the money. “Don’t worry; by the end of the night, I’ll have you schooled.”
Diaz looked at his wristwatch and shook his head.
“Man, this night is dragging,” Diaz said. “Why couldn’t we get a real post? I wanted to be on the burn detail.”
“Just be glad we didn’t get trapped inside the red zone like Yate’s crew. I hear those boys are all sorts of fucked up,” Young said.
“Yeah,” Diaz said, sighing, “But playing with those chemical flamethrowers would be badass.”
“Fuck that shit. The flame guys still have to wear those sweaty biohazard suits,” Young replied casually.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. At least way out here we don’t have to wear those bulky suits,” Diaz reasoned. “Man, if one of those assholes trapped inside the red zone bugged out, ran through the fire, and shot his way through the I-85 blockade… could two jerks like us really fuck with him? That dude would be a new level of crazy.”
“Well, hell yeah I would try to stop him. He’d be infectious and shit,” Young said as he scooped up the playing cards and started to shuffle them again.
“Could you really do it though?” Diaz whispered.
“Do what?”
“Shoot ‘em. You know… another one of us.”
“Fuck yeah,” Young said without hesitation. “I don’t want to catch whatever it is they got. It’s us versus them, survival of the fittest, and all of that shit. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Young dealt the cards.
A large flock of Canadian geese flew high overhead across the border into Virginia in a broken formation. The soldiers glanced up and then went back to their cards. Lots of frightened birds were flying out of North Carolina ever since the outbreak and especially since the military started the forest fires, so it was not an uncommon sight.
“Think it will reach us way out here?” Diaz asked as he laid a Ten of Spades down on the table.
Young slapped down an Ace of Spades and shook his head.
“Nah, man, they’re going to spread the flames inward and barbeque the fucking place at sunrise. That’s the rumor I heard, anyway.”
Diaz laid down an Ace of Diamonds.
“At least they won’t nuke it, you know? I don’t trust all that radiation and stuff.”
Young slapped down an Ace of Hearts.
Diaz groaned, defeated.
“Even if they did, I don’t give a shit. My family is in Nevada. It’s survival of the fittest. Speaking of which…” Young said, smirking. “I’ve beat you again. Pay up, bitch!”
As Diaz reached into his pocket, a Jeep sped towards them from the direction of the I-85 blockade.
“Vehicle! Shit!” Young shouted. He hastily unslung his rifle and sighted-in at the approaching vehicle.
The playing cards scattered on the ground.
Diaz fumbled with his weapon and quickly sighted-in, heart beating madly in his chest.
“Stop! Stop your vehicle damnit!” Young shouted.
The Jeep rolled to a stop a few yards away from Young and Diaz.
A man wearing a flame retardant white-suit stepped out from the driver’s seat with his arms raised over his head. He reeked of gasoline and his vehicle was covered in soot.
“Easy, you fucks!” the white-suit said. “I’m in Lance Corporal River’s detail!”
Young and Diaz hesitantly lowered their weapons.
“You’re in the burn detail? Why are you way out here?” Diaz asked.
“Besides, you know we can’t let you pass without permission from command or else it’s all of our asses on the line,” Young added.
The white-suit lowered his arms and laughed.
“I’m not AWOL, you shitbirds! I’m here to see if you two are interested in buying something,” the white-suit said. He walked to the back of his Jeep and pulled out a metallic case marked ‘PT-12a’.
Young and Diaz walked over to the back of the Jeep, curious.
“Woah,” Young said, stepping back. “Is that the fucking virus?! Are you crazy?!”
“No, it’s the anti-virus,” the white-suit said. “They’ve been secretly testing it inside small towns trapped inside the red zone this whole time.”
The white-suit broke the CDC seals and opened the case.
“I fucking knew they had a cure hidden somewhere!” Diaz said.
“This is some serious shit. How did you get ahold of it?” Young asked, wide-eyed.
“We lifted some crates off of one of the CDC transports headed into Butner earlier, but does it really matter? I’m offering salvation at two-hundred dollars a vial,” the white-suit said. “The limit is four. You want in?”
Young and Diaz hesitated.
“Come on, man, it’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Make it fast. I have to drive to six other checkpoints manned with more people then you two shitbirds. I just came here first because you were the closest,” the white-suit said.
“Alright, alright,” Diaz said. “I’m in.”
“Yeah, me too,” Young finally said. “And I’ll take another one for my girl.”
Diaz looked at Young.
“I thought your wife and kids were back in Nevada,” Diaz said.
“They are,” Young replied, smirking, “but my girlfriend is up in Norfolk, Virginia.”
All three men laughed.
Diaz and Young reached for their wallets.
In the midst of their transaction, none of the men noticed as another disorganized flock of geese flew overhead into Virginia.
One of the ill geese stopped flapping its wings and tumbled out of the sky into the forest across the state line.
27
The helicopter hovered low over the roof of Crabtree Valley Mall, scanning the area with its bright searchlights.
The searchlights revealed a few staggering corpses on the roof and a few sloppily painted messages pleading for help that never came.
As the helicopter lowered its altitude, the corpses stumbled underneath it, standing in the center of the searchlight’s beam.
The corpses, most wearing blue nylon FEMA windbreakers, raised their hands towards the light, moaning.
“Bravo-Echelon to Falls Lake, Bravo-Echelon to Falls Lake, we have arrived at Hotel One but we do not detect any survivors. Do you copy, over?” the pilot said into the headset.
“Falls Lake to– [gunshot][screaming in background] –Lake to Bravo-Echelon, do you see any sign of the two targets? [static] Son of a– [gunshots] Keep that goddamn door secure!”
The pilot hesitated a moment and then keyed his mike again.
“Um, Bravo-Echelon to Falls Lake, are you guys okay? It sounds like you have a situation over there.”
“Never mind about us! This is Yates! [static] [automatic gunfire] Do you see the civilian?!”
“Negative, sir, we just see some scattered reanimates on the roof of the mall. No sign of the Primary One or Two. We did see some crash wreckage near the parking deck, but the area is full of Tangos, over.”
“They have to be there, damnit! [heavy static] –out the ones on the roof and– [gunshots] –the crash site. Do you– [static] –me? They’re about to blanket the city with firebombs and that civilian is our hope out of the red zone! If we don’t – [gunshots] [screaming] –they will never let us leave! Find whatever is left of him!”
“Bravo-Echelon copies all, over,” the pilot sa
id. He clicked off the mike and turned towards the soldiers in the crew cabin behind him. “Clear us a path, we’re landing on the roof and securing the high ground.”
“But they’re going to carpet-bomb us soon,” one of the soldiers muttered inside his hazmat suit.
“Well, we better be fast then,” the pilot said, “because we’re not taking off without that civilian. If we don’t find him, we’ll burn alongside Yates. I don’t know about you guys, but I want to get the fuck out of this city.”
The soldiers nodded in agreement.
The sliding cargo door on the helicopter slid open and one of the hazmat-suited soldiers leaned outside, wielding a sniper rifle.
The soldier fired and took down one of the corpses on the roof.
“Jesus!” Mathis shouted, head pressed against the exhaust shaft. The gunshot echoed loudly down the shaft. A second shot echoed down through the vent, followed by a third and a fourth. “They’re clearing a path on the roof! I think they’re going to land!”
Richard crawled closer towards the vent.
“But… how are we going to get to the roof?” Richard asked.
Mathis unslung the DSN satellite phone off of his shoulder and stared at it for a moment, thinking. He gripped it with both hands and bashed the bulky hardened military-grade satellite phone against the aluminum exhaust shaft, yelling.
The infected below started to go into frenzy at the sound of the screaming and bashing.
Mathis slammed the bulky phone as hard as he could against the shaft, repeatedly. The hardened casing started to chip away and the phone’s screen shattered, but finally one the welds in the exhaust shaft snapped and a section of aluminum bent inwards.
Mathis dropped the mangled phone and pressed his body weight against the bent section.
The aluminum section folded down into the shaft and created a space large enough for both Mathis and Richard to crawl through.
“Come on!” Mathis shouted. He crawled into the shaft and started his difficult ascent, using the exposed weld lines inside the shaft as meager footing.
He climbed past the motionless fan blades and rested on one of the steel braces that supported the fan’s motor, catching his breath. He had forgotten just how out of shape he had allowed himself to get.
Above, he saw the bird-shit coated wire meshing that covered the exhaust shaft’s rooftop opening. After being stuck inside the dark mall for so long, the moonlight shining through the mesh was a welcomed sight.
Keeping his back pressed against the steel brace, Mathis kicked out both feet against the wire mesh repeatedly.
The mesh snapped off and flung out onto the roof.
“I’ll climb out first and get them to lower a line for you!” Mathis shouted down the shaft at Richard. “Just wait there! I’ll be right back!”
Mathis carefully stood up and balanced on the steel brace, reached up and grabbed the lip of the exhaust shaft.
Two soldiers wearing white hazmat suits reached in, grabbed Mathis’ arms, pulled him out of the exhaust vent, and let him fall to the ground on his back.
Before Mathis could react, two rifle barrels were pressed against his white-suit’s faceshield.
“Easy, please, just listen,” Mathis said, slowly displaying his open palms. “I’m Colonel Mathis, of the 161st. I have an immune survivor with me and he is still inside the ventilation shaft. There are no other survivors inside.”
The two hazmat-suited soldiers backed away, but kept their rifles aimed steadily at him.
One of the soldiers pressed his radios transmit button attached to the chest of his suit, keeping his other hand secure on his weapon.
“This is Lima-Three to Yankee-One. We have located Primary Two, do you copy, over?” the soldier said into the mike.
“Yankee-One copies. Check him for breach and bring him to the bird. Have you located Primary One, over?”
Three other soldiers wearing hazmat suits ran towards the exhaust vent and dropped a zip-line down into the shaft. One of them lit a red flare and tossed it inside.
“Lima-Three to Yankee-One, we’re in the process of retrieving him, over,” Lima-Three responded. He let go of the mike and gestured for Mathis to stand.
Mathis slowly stood and adjusted the oxygen tank slung around his waist.
“Keep your hands above your head, Colonel,” Lima-Three ordered, sighting his weapon on him. “This will just take a second.”
Mathis slowly raised his hands above his head.
A hazmat-suited soldier walked up with a spray bottle full of foamy-liquid and spritzed Mathis’ white-suit from head-to-toe.
The three white-suits who threw the zip-line down the shaft finally pulled Richard out and immediately pinned him against the ground and fastened plastic zip-cuffs around his wrists.
Richard struggled violently, but was quickly subdued by a swift kick into his ribs. He curled up on the ground, gasping for breath.
“Hey!” Mathis shouted, lowering his arms.
Lima-Three and the solider standing next to him stepped forward, their fingers tightening around the trigger.
“Easy, Colonel,” Lima-Three said.
Mathis froze and slowly raised his hands again.
“You guys aren’t search and rescue,” Mathis said with disdain in his voice. “You’re with Yate’s group, aren’t you?”
The white-suit spritzing Mathis stopped, stood up, and turned towards Lima-Three.
“He’s clean,” she said, “His suit hasn’t been punctured. I can’t detect any leaks.”
“Great,” Lima-Three said, “let’s get them both in the bird and head back to the lake.”
“Goddamnit!” Mathis shouted, clinching his fists. “You’re wasting your time! Yates has been cut off! He doesn’t care about securing your safe passage! He only cares about his own ass! He wants the civilian as a personal bargaining chip! Can’t you see that?!”
“Just get on the helicopter, chief, and everything will be alright,” Lima-Three said. “Everything will be alright.”
28
The President sat aboard Air Force One, staring out the window at the countryside below. It was hard for him to remember the last time he had slept. All that he knew was that he was getting sick and tired of being shuffled around from one secure location to another. His body ached and his head was pounding.
Sitting across from him was his Chief of Staff and beside him was his Secretary of Defense.
In the Secretary of Defense’s lap sat a silver attaché case that was handcuffed to his wrist.
The President was sick of the whole mess. First, he got pulled out from the White House’s secure panic room and shuffled to the downstairs bunker. Then, not even five hours later, he got shuffled to the Pentagon’s bunkers. He didn’t even get two hours of sleep before he was shaken awake and ushered up to a waiting helicopter flanked by Secret Service agents wearing riot armor.
Then to make matters worse, his throat was getting scratchy and his head was pounding from the lack of sleep.
He didn’t know the exact reason why he was getting moved across country to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, but, while sitting through countless situational briefings, he heard something about the situation deteriorating along the east coast. In truth, it was hard to pay attention when he was running off of two hours of sleep.
It excited him to know that his wife would be waiting for him in Colorado. Perhaps he’d be able to curl up next to her and sleep for sixteen hours straight. He was completely exhausted.
The thought about seeing his wife again made him smile, but his aching head made him wince.
“Are you okay, sir?” the Secretary of Defense asked.
“I’m fine, Hart,” the President said, forcing a smile. “I just really need to get some sleep.”
The Secretary of Defense offered a polite nod.
“Well, sir, I think after all of the commotion going on, you deserve a good night’s rest,” the Secretary of Defense said.
“We all do, H
art,” the President added.
“Who will do all the work if we’re all sleeping?” the Chief of Staff said, smirking.
“Well,” reflected the President, “I’m sure there are a few democrats hiding somewhere in the DC sewers.”
The three men chuckled and then fell back into silence.
The President sneezed.
The Chief of Staff politely offered his handkerchief.
29
Mathis sat next to Richard on the cold metallic bench inside the helicopter’s gunmetal cargo hold with his handcuffed hands neatly folded in his lap.
Richard’s right hand repeatedly inadvertently twitched during the flight, but he didn’t notice; he was too preoccupied eavesdropping on the voices echoing inside of his head. He heard Andy whispering to somebody, a female, but he couldn’t make out what either voice was saying and it was making him increasingly paranoid. He hated when his brother talked about him behind his back.
The four soldiers, three males and one female, sat opposite from Mathis and Richard, staring at them with their rifles gripped tightly. The soldiers were no longer wearing their hazmat suits because they were considered safe from ground-level airborne contamination at the altitude they were cruising. Not that it mattered anyway, because their suits ran out of oxygen not long after taking flight from the mall’s roof.
The pilot gave up trying to get in contact with Falls Lake since nobody on the other end was answering anymore.
“You’re wasting your time following the Major General’s orders,” Mathis finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “He’ll kill or abandon all of us and use the civilian to negotiate safe passage for himself out of the state. Falls Lake is isolated just like the rest of us.”
“Why don’t you want to land there? Are you sick?” one of the soldiers, Greg, aka Lima-Three, asked Mathis.
“I never took off my suit and I didn’t get punctured,” Mathis said, staring at him. He looked over at the female, Patricia. Attractive, if she would have bathed in the past forty-eight hours. “You checked me yourself, right? You weren’t satisfied?”
Degeneration Page 26
