by David Whaley
Boom recovered well, and saved Poets life, taking it out with multiple rapid rounds to the head. However, another two jumped and took its place but were quickly dealt with by Boom, again, and Tank.
The undead then approached to their front, their only weakness being that they repeatedly ran into each other as they tried to get to the marines.
The first three had used up all of their bullets then ducked to take cover whilst the back three took over killing more of the advancing zombies. It wasn’t good enough.
More and more zombies jumped up to them and more ran towards them causing Poet to get bitten by one of the jumpers. He fought a good fight and through most of the disease that was swiftly taking over his nervous system but inevitably the fever took over rendering him completely useless in a combat situation. The only safe direction was behind them.
“Cover me!” shouted Boom as he clasped the shoulder pad of Poets bullet proof vest dragging him to the back of the line where the team continued trying to fend of their assailants.
However, with one less man they were forced back out onto the rooftop quickly being overpowered but they had little choice in the matter.
Boom continued to drag Poet to the furthest point of the rooftop and the remainder of the team continued to fire at the enemy whilst strafing backwards.
“Boom, I’m… gonna cause more problems than… all of them,” said Poet. “I’ll bite you and then approach the team from behind.”
“Poet…,” Boom knew Poet was right and could think of little to justify an argument.
“Roll me near the edge.”
After a moment of hesitation and a quick look at his team mates that required urgent help, Boom did as he was asked lifting and pushing Poet onto the ledge where he could roll under the neck-high metal railing.
“Go,” said Poet fighting back the disease allowing his last moment of life to cause his death.
They both locked opposite hands and Boom moved his body into his horizontal friend.
“You’re bravery is an honour to our country,” Boom said. “I will never forget you.”
He then walked away and didn’t look back, M4 pointed ahead.
“Ooh-Rah,” said Poet, his voice fading as he fell.
The zombies were spilling out fast onto the rooftop and they had spread to a great width in front of them no longer contained. The living had become extremely vulnerable.
“At least we can complete half of our mission team,” said Tank.
“Ooh-Rah,” said his team.
They understood that the only thing they could do was take as many out as possible before they met their end and they knew exactly how their lives would end; on their terms.
The team of five fired in teams of two and three trying their best to cover each other whilst reloading.
They had spread across the rooftop trying to control and match the width of the advancing zombie line but it was no use. They were growing more dense, wider and deeper, advancing quickly and pushing the marines back.
“This is the first mission where I haven’t advanced from the infiltration point,” Tank shouted.
“Same here,” replied Duke.
“It’s been nice working with you, boys.”
“Ooh-Rah,” said his team.
They had all backed up as far as they could go, their backs touching the steel railing that unreliably swayed against their weight.
“I’d say that’s about all we can do. Mission complete,” said Tank admiring the dead zombies littering the rooftop but still shooting the live ones running and jumping towards them.
“It’s been an honour serving with you Sarge,” said Duke, the first one to roll under the railing.
“Men, it has been an honour serving with you. May we meet in the afterlife,” said Tank.
Duke rolled off the ledge quickly replaced by Handle.
“Sarge,” he said.
Tank nodded.
Handle rolled off and fell the twelve floors to the hard ground.
Tank, Boom and Tiny continued to fire, buying them time for each to take their place preparing for the fall.
“Me next. Ooh-Rah,” said Boom and off he went.
“Just us now, Sarge,” said Tiny.
“Tank, please… friend.”
“Okay, Tank. It’s been a pleasure.” He rolled off.
“To whoever gets this message,” said Tank into his microphone choosing to climb over the railing biding him time to relay his message. “Sector thirty two is a no zone. There’s still too many of them. We’ve taken out as many as we can but we’ve been cornered. We will not be turned. We will die as Americans. Alpha team leader, out.”
Tank then plummeted to his death to be reunited with his comrades in the afterlife.
Chapter 39
Natalie awoke to find Leon cleaning his pistol, his MP5 gleaming on the table before him having already passed his inspection.
“Almost over,” said Leon, head down focused on his Glock.
“Yeah, not long. Did you get much sleep?”
“Not really. I’ve become quite anxious since we learned of the extraction and what seems to be a positive indication as to the whereabouts of that betraying boyfriend of yours,” he said quickly noticing that he could have chosen his words more carefully and he changed the subject. “Plus with snorkel over there, I didn’t bother putting my head down.”
Leon, of course, was talking about Devlin who was loudly snoring in one corner of the room, his head lulled, his feet crossed and propped onto a table where a single computer sat motionless.
Natalie thought of searching their systems using the computer but being an outer force, she wouldn’t have access.
Information had become the least of her worries, anyhow. It had become time for action prompting her to give her own weapons the once over, borrowing some utensils from Leon to get the job done. The cleaner a firearm the more accurate a firearm, she thought.
“I notice you haven’t checked the time?” said Leon.
“I’m sure that when it’s time to go someone will collect us. I very much doubt you would be cleaning if we were about to leave.”
“We leave in two hours,” he said with a smile.
Leon promptly finished cleaning out his weapons and went to assist Natalie.
“You okay?” Leon said sensing a look of hesitation and unassuredness about her.
“I’m not quite sure,” said Natalie with only a brief glance at the person she was talking to. “Once we leave the UK… if we leave the UK, who’s to say that this doesn’t happen there?”
“Well, when we leave the UK we will have stopped Marcus’ plan so he won’t be a threat to the world anymore. On top of that, the UK was quarantined extremely fast and the virus was contained.”
“I suppose but if we aren’t able to stop Marcus then, and this is something a person never thinks they’d say, it will be the end of the human race.”
“True, but I will be there, you will be there and even that one will be there,” a quick nod in the direction of Devlin indicated him as a member of their team. “I’m sure John will want in on the action as will some of his officers. He already said he will help.”
“I hope Marcus is at this military base.”
“I hope so too to put an end to everything but first things first. We must focus on this rescue operation. Whoever is there are gonna be the last people to be saved ready for the American Air Force extraction deadline.”
Natalie smiled feeling reassured in the fact that she had been over thinking things and they sat in silence cleaning her firearms with Devlin providing not-so-soothing background tones. It beats the sound of the zombies, she thought.
John entered the briefing room with a tray of breakfast in his hands for all three of them.
“Make sure you eat,” he said. “We’re going to need our strength. We have done various drive-bys and the undead are definitely being drawn there. There will be loads of them.”
John walked over to De
vlin to wake him with only an hour left before they were to leave whilst Leon and Natalie eyed the breakfast banquet before them.
There were plenty of fried eggs, an item of food that they assumed had all but run out through their expiration dates. There were also a number of sausages that were evidently of a cheaper brand and likely to have been frozen prior to cooking. On each plate were whole plum tomatoes from a can and what smelt like freshly made bread which explained the bread maker Leon’s twin had previously spoken to him about. Regardless of the certain items the breakfast lacked in quality or lacked altogether, such as bacon, they were grateful for the feast provided.
“I’m starving,” said a groggy Devlin.
“Get it down ya,” said Leon. “There’s even some coffee to wake you up.”
“Where’s Heather?” Natalie asked John.
“She was a bit shaken up with that shooting yesterday next door and wanted to talk to some of the survivors to calm them down even though she shit herself. She’s eaten but couldn’t sleep much.”
“Okay, but she’s staying here when we leave.”
“Understood. I’ve got my team together, just keep an eye on the time; we leave at eight,” said John before leaving the room without waiting for a response.
They ate their breakfast and Leon cleaned Devlin’s pistol whilst also providing a lesson on how to do it, deciding against giving him an MP5 to play with despite the anticipated difficulties they would be likely to run into.
In the yard of the Hertfordshire police station, the three met with John plus four other officers who had decided in taking an unmarked transit van for this outing.
“Okay, it’s an approximate twenty five minute drive. Follow us in your BMW,” said John. “We will be parking two blocks from the location and making the rest up on foot, try and take them by surprise and take as many out before they gather themselves and charge us. We will be approaching them from two directions. I will be leading a team of three and so will you, Leon. I’ll lend you one of mine, just look after him. The last time we lent the Metropolitan police equipment it came back in a right state.”
Leon smiled finding John’s humour quite amusing.
“My team will approach from the South East corner whilst Leon will be leading a team from the South West. Any questions?”
Natalie didn’t find the suggestion of Leon leading the team in the slightest bit sexist as she deemed him to be the best man for the job having already seen what he was capable of.
“No questions? Exactly how I like it. Check your kit, we leave in two.”
Natalie and Leon ran through their inventory confirming they were in possession of their pistols and MP5s. Devlin also had two weapons but they were both Glocks. They each had numerous magazine clips full of ammunition whilst Natalie had equipped herself with a hunting knife that John had been kind enough to give her stating she could keep it.
Every officer donned arm and leg guards providing some to the Met officers and Devlin.
“We can’t take any chances today. By far, this will be the toughest challenge we face. Be ready for anything and everything. Let’s go.”
Every Hertfordshire officer entered the Transit, most entering via the back door, whilst Devlin, Leon and Natalie climbed into the BMW and they set off out the gates of the police station.
The drive provided yet more scenes of devastation, each person looking around trying to come to terms what had become of the UK.
The transit ran over hordes of zombies as did Leon in the BMW, a small amount of satisfaction needed to live and survive the nightmare. Natalie, too, had grown to satisfy herself with the hobby, although she wasn’t the one doing it. Devlin, as always, enjoyed it.
Precisely twenty five minutes later, they arrived on a deserted street and the Transit pulled over to the side of the road followed closely by Leon in the BMW where everyone decamped.
“Paul, you’re with them,” PC Richards instructed as a medium build officer jogged over to the group. To Leon’s dissatisfaction, they weren’t being provided the officer he had become acquainted to.
“Right, you lot go that way and we will go this way.” PC Richards pointed in the direction of East and West. “The building is a six storey block of flats with a smaller block either side of it. A small park is to the right hand side of one of the smaller blocks two roads up. Understood?”
“Understood,” everyone said.
“Let’s go then.”
The teams set off in opposite directions walking briskly to the ends of the road where they took a corner and counted two roads, pausing precisely to the South East and South West respectively as per John’s short briefing provided before they set off. A quick look in each others direction up the road told them that they were both in position and a thumbs up indicated that they make their move.
On the opposite side of the road was the block in question, faded paint on the exterior wall, abandoned by the local council or housing association long before the zombie outbreak. However, they could argue it had been the fault of financial constraints.
Broken windows littered the building likely caused by the people that had been cooped up inside during the crisis and it was from one of these windows that Natalie saw a face. Although the face was quite a distance away, it ducked in and out of view moving unlike a zombie. That must be where the survivors are, she thought, indicating for Leon to look. He saw exactly what was intended.
Gunfire had already started to spray from John’s team and the many zombies that stood motionless outside the block started to run in the direction of the noise.
“Our turn,” said Leon. “Fire!”
Devlin crept to Leon’s side to get a better view onto the street with his pistol having taken on previous advice from his team. That advice was not to go out shooting with both his Glocks.
They all fired rounds at the rampaging zombies that appeared to confuse them, but only momentarily. For a split second, they all turned towards Leon’s team, bullets still gunning them down in two directions. The zombies then split into two teams and ran towards each of theirs.
Devlin had become more accurate due to the practice, choosing to wait until some got closer before firing most of his shots and therefore ensuring his accuracy.
Leon pushed his team back to try and narrow the field of oncoming zombies by backing around the corner. The zombies came back into sight and sure enough, as they rounded the side of the building, they were huddled together.
“Fire now!” shouted Leon as his team mates kindly obliged.
They each fired a multitude of rounds into the bodies of their enemies, mostly on target at their heads utilising the new formed weakness in the material that makes up a human being to their advantage. A bullet passed through the head of the first zombie causing it to fall to the floor whilst the round continued taking out a further three zombies in its wake. It was working.
Devlin was the first to run out of bullets and retreated to the back of the pack where he crouched and reloaded, reappearing with a fresh clip.
“Cover me,” said Leon being the second to run out of ammunition.
Their tactic was working as the zombie numbers began to thin out at an expeditious rate and before too long the undead had been killed, at least at their post. In the distance from the second teams post there was still gunfire echoing along the street.
“Check your ammo. We need to help the others,” instructed Leon.
All four removed the magazine clip and replaced it with a full one before running back to the corner and into the road towards John’s team.
More zombies were coming out at a trickle from the broken door to the target block of flats that were easily taken out by Paul and Devlin whilst Leon and Natalie focused ahead to help the others where many zombies continued to try and get to them.
However, it was a remarkable feat that John and co were holding their ground, not backing down regardless of how close the enemies got.
Leon and Natalie fired their MP5s i
nto the side of the zombies’ heads and a short while later John’s team stopped, wiping the sweat from their foreheads.
“Glad the Met could help,” Leon said whilst laughing and amusing Devlin somewhat.
“We had it under control,” said his doppelganger also through laughter.
“Okay, save the discussions for after,” said John. “And stay alert.”
They ran across the street toward the target block, Natalie eyeing the window where she had seen the face before that was no longer present, and walked over the unhinged door into the stairwell.
Another two zombies came at them from the first floor but before they had a chance to fall down the stairs onto the rescuers, Devlin and Leon took them out, the force pushing them backward away from the first step where they fell in a heap.
The team ascended the first flight.
“Police! Where are you?” shouted John.
No response from the living, only moans from some stray zombies that loomed along the walkway on this floor. John and Paul took the three of them out and they ascended another flight.
“Police! Is anyone here?” he shouted again.
“In here.” The reply came from three voices that they guessed was an adult male and female as well as a young girl. More moans interrupted their response as two more appeared out of a flat onto the walkway swiftly being shot dead.
“Which flat?” shouted John.
“I don’t know. We were trying to find a safe place but got cornered here when our car broke down. Second floor though,” said the male voice.
“Okay, keep shouting and we’ll find you.”
The family did as they were asked and their voices were followed by John, Leon, Natalie and two other Herts officers whilst everyone else remained at the stairwell to keep a look out.
Suddenly, there was a sound of crashing followed by a yelp that was certainly from a living person. However, this cry of pain was not from the direction the family were shouting from. It was from one of the officers at the stairway that had five zombies piled on top of him, his colleagues and Devlin trying frantically to set him free by pulling away the undead in order to prevent him being turned.
