In Harm's Way: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

by Shawn Chesser

  “Copy that General. Durant, have you seen my nose plugs?”

  Durant played along, “They’re probably back in your billet next to the Costco-sized jar of Vicks Vapor Rub. You D-Boys are probably used to smelling the rotters by now. Night Stalkers... we pride ourselves in operating above the stench.”

  “You prima donnas better take us low,” Desantos ordered.

  Passing by on the starboard side of Jedi One-One, above eye level, rose the gigantic monolithic red rock formation known as Castle Rock.

  “Walkers on the port side,” Ari said.

  Cade felt the Ghost Hawk slow as Ari took them alongside the herd at seventy-five feet above ground level. The smell was indeed intense.

  In unison the walkers slowly panned their heads in order to see the semi-silent helicopter. White faces tracked the helo as the herd continued along I-25.

  The scene reminded Ari of the old footage he had seen on the History channel where Russian soldiers filed lockstep past Khrushchev or some other long dead premier, marching stiffly, faces submissively turned towards their superiors in the stands.

  “Why do you think they are following the Interstate?” Maddox asked Desantos.

  Desantos obliged. “They’re following the leader. We got to see the UAV footage of the start of this exodus yesterday. Some of it might be attributed to snippets of memory... we all spent a good chunk of our lives in a car, in a rocket seat as kids and then driving ourselves everywhere. Not to mention the fact that most people, even when they are still living and breathing, fall victim to the herd mentality.”

  Maddox bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

  “I think the overpasses are the way to go. We place the bomb in the center... I will arm the device and then we’ll call for egress,” Tice stated. He focused on something outside and then asked, “These stone mounds on the right side... what are they called?”

  “Castle Rock,” Ari answered.

  “That formation is in just the right spot to contain the blasts and provide a little bounce back. Call it a double whammy on the horde. The trick is going to be timing the movement of the Z’s. If we don’t pop them at just the right moment then we are going to have glowing walkers showing up at Schriever.”

  Ari waited until he was sure the spook was finished talking and then said, “I paced them at less than two knots. That means the main body is moving between one and two miles per hour... give or take.”

  “Put us down and we can hash it out,” Cade said, obviously itching to get it done.

  Ari’s voice overrode the comms. “Gaines just called in, wondering where in the H- E- double-hockey sticks we are. His words, not mine. He’s got the buggies offloaded and devices loaded and they’re ready to go. Over the comms it sounded like Captain Gaines was eating potato chips... I was salivating at the thought and I had to ask him.”

  “Well, what was it Ari?” Lopez inquired.

  “Popcorn... don’t ask where he got it because he wouldn’t tell me. He is saving some for us though,” Ari stated.

  “I’d love to see any one of you try and eat popcorn near those Chinooks,” Sergeant Hicks, the door gunner/crew chief, quipped.

  That last visual brought laughs from all of the men.

  Desantos was glad to see that his operators were loose and ready to go.

  Chapter 41

  Outbreak - Day 9

  Castle Rock, Colorado

  Two minutes had elapsed between the Z over flight and CWO Ari Silver’s God awful singing that was currently violating everyone’s eardrums. “Let’s all go to the lobby. Let’s all go to the lobby and get ourselves some treats...”

  “Make him stop,” Lopez begged.

  Ari brought the stealth chopper around the back of the well-worn five-story movie screen and settled her next to the cinderblock projection/lobby building.

  Although Cade hadn’t been to a drive-in theater in years, he still thought fondly of the Foster Drive-in back in Portland. It had closed and was out of business before Raven was born but the place had always been a favorite haunt of his and Brook’s when they were younger.

  Three of the Chinooks were already gone, headed back to Schriever; the fourth Ranger-laden helo was just spooling up, preparing to lift off and orbit at a discreet standoff range in case the third device was called for or the Rangers were needed to backstop the Delta team.

  Cade exited the Ghost Hawk, instinctively ducking under the spinning rotors and formed up next to Captain Ronnie “Ghost” Gaines with the knowledge of the man’s impending promotion safely under wraps inside of his head.

  “Captain,” Cade said in greeting.

  “Captain,” Gaines nodded.

  Desantos, Lopez, Maddox and Tice--who was holding onto his Detroit Tigers ball cap to keep it from getting diced by the rotors--all sprinted from the Ghost Hawk towards the waiting LSVs.

  Quietly, the Ghost Hawk leaped skyward, accidently sandblasting the operators assembled in the center of the immense parking lot. Ari was given the order to loiter and wait for Desantos to call the exfil request.

  “We’d better hurry if we’re going to get to the northernmost overpass before the lead element of the herd,” Tice insisted.

  “Do you have an idea of how far apart we should place the bombs?” Desantos asked the CIA nuke specialist.

  “Those buggies I’m guessing are pretty much bare bone and don’t come equipped with an odometer... if they did that would take the guesswork out of the equation.”

  “They don’t,” Gaines replied after double-checking the gauge cluster.

  “We’ll just have to count the blocks between overpasses then,” Tice stated.

  “There are roughly twelve blocks in a mile,” Maddox offered up.

  “Alright, lock and load... we already have visitors.”

  The walking dead, attracted by the raucous Chinooks, were amassing outside of the tall privacy fencing near the Castle Rock drive-in marquee.

  “Comms check,” Desantos said into his mic, and since this operation was hastily conceived, he told the men to use their names for the duration.

  The other operators also checked in verbally.

  “Since we have Tangos at the gate let’s take the back route. These places used to funnel people around after the movie if I remember right,” Desantos said, as he gunned the engine and spun the tires, spitting gravel on Maddox and Lopez in the second LSV. Cade rode above and behind his commander. The position allowed him to shoot the mounted M249 SAW, or Squad Automatic Weapon, a full three hundred and sixty degrees; strapped in next to Desantos was three hundred pounds of instant glass-producing nuclear death.

  Maddox goosed his buggy, forming up behind, yet slightly out of range of Desantos’ grit spewing tires.

  The third LSV, driven by Gaines, had the second device strapped into the passenger seat and Tice riding high in the gunner’s seat.

  They came to the rear exit gate which was locked up with a tightly wound length of chain and a heavy duty Master Lock. Maddox jumped from the driver’s seat, bolt cutters in hand. Even though he was the team’s best lock pick, he was just going to brute force this lock. There was no need for finesse. Twenty seconds later the gate was open and the three LSVs blazed through.

  Cade was amazed at how quiet the buggies were. He watched a cone to the front of the LSV, panning the machine gun left and right. He spied three walkers: one a first turn that he couldn’t discern the sex of, and the other two newly-turned male zombies. They ambled onto the road one hundred yards ahead. Stealth wasn’t necessary here, so he engaged them with two buzz-saw sounding bursts from the M249.

  The ripest zombie of the three disintegrated from the breastbone up after the lethal lead encounter with ten buzzing 5.56 mm rounds. The other two Z’s were punched to the ground, each taking their fair share of the second, twenty round burst.

  Desantos wheeled around the downed creatures and steered the speeding vehicle towards the jagged Rocky Mountains dead ahead. On their right the afternoon
sun caused the Castle Rock formation to glow orange, making it look like a miniature version of Australia’s Ayers Rock.

  The three vehicle convoy was forced to take a left at a zombie-choked intersection. They wound single file past a host of dead bodies, smelling sickly sweet after some time in the elements, and drove around a wrecked Suburban with a still-flailing zombie stuck underneath.

  “Next right should take us over I-25,” Desantos informed the others.

  A series of clicks answered back.

  “Desantos, this is Jedi One-One.”

  “Go ahead Ari,” Desantos said.

  “I have a feed from the Global Hawk and the freeway looks clear if you want to make a speed run for the far overpass. The herd is about a third of a mile north from there and closing,” Ari stated.

  “Copy that. Keep the info coming Night Stalker.” Desantos’ sudden burst of speed caught the others by surprise and they struggled to keep pace.

  Good thing this rig isn’t a Cushman, Cade thought, the memory of the ride with the maniac still fresh in his mind from the day before.

  ***

  Schriever AFB Satellite Warfare Room

  The creatures were still on relatively the same path as they had been since leaving Denver. The HD color feed from the Global Hawk allowed Major Nash to keep tabs on the mission taking place forty miles to the north; whether the drone was going to survive the twin nuclear blasts had been a matter of contention between her and Colonel Cornelius Shrill since they had hatched this hastily thrown together plan. The fighter-jet-sized, unarmed surveillance drone which had the capability to loiter over an area gathering real time data for hours on end was flying a circuitous racetrack pattern directly over Castle Rock. The high tech aircraft was supposedly shielded against EMP, or Electro Magnetic Pulse, the circuit-frying surge of electricity that was capable of shutting down most things electronic.

  Colonel Shrill was still old school and didn’t trust the modern battlefield gadgets that the military had become so dependent on in the last few years. He had a strong feeling the blasts were going to turn the drone into a billion dollar paper weight and he reminded Nash about their wager every chance he got.

  The drone was going to survive according to Freda and she couldn’t wait to see the cranky base commander eat crow. Whatever the case, she had her eyes glued to the flat panel monitor, anxious to see what hole cards fate was about to deal the human race.

  Chapter 42

  Outbreak - Day 9

  Schriever AFB

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  Pug paused momentarily outside of the fifteen-story structure. He looked both ways along the white metal walls that seemed to go on forever. The base map in his hands indicated that this was one of the places that civilians were forbidden to go. The white tent pulsating directly in front of him was large, not circus tent large, but it was still dwarfed by the cavernous airplane hangar in which it had been erected, and strangely it seemed to be calling out his name.

  The only security were two soldiers in white bunny suits lounging near the other end of the hangar. Pug remembered being processed the night before in the very same building.

  Time to forge my destiny, he told himself. Go big or go home, the other voice told him. It had been talking to him more than ever since the outbreak and had really been driving him since he embarked on this journey. I’m on a mission from God. He didn’t know whose voice it was but he remembered the line from a Blues Brothers movie and it made him laugh.

  He ducked into the living, breathing tent before his laughter got him caught. Once inside, his nose was instantly assaulted by the unmistakable smell of death. Strapped to a gurney, less than ten feet away, the naked, decomposing zombie hungrily eyed him.

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Pug said aloud. “Put something on would ya... a nice thick body bag would suffice.”

  ***

  I-25

  Desantos deftly maneuvered the small LSV between the walkers and stalled vehicles. Some of the cars had grabbers inside so he was careful to keep the vehicle at least an arm’s length away as he passed.

  He nosed the buggy up the off-ramp and brought the vehicle to a sudden halt. Gaines pulled up next to him. Desantos put a pair of armored Bushnells to his eyes and said, “The north overpass is coming up. This one is too close so I think after we place the first device up ahead we need to go back and put the other device on the overpass behind us.”

  “I concur,” Gaines said. “Tice was telling me the same thing as we were following you. He estimates the two overpasses are a little over a mile apart.”

  From the gun seat in the rear LSV Lopez let loose a burst from his silenced MP7, stitching a female zombie from the navel to the forehead. Her dome popped off, spewing sun-cooked brains on the ramp before she teetered and fell, rolling like a log down the embankment. The creature had been stalking them through the foliage beside the freeway and more were shambling their way.

  The walkers were onto them. Even though the LSVs were very quiet, the total absence of any other noise made the engine and exhaust notes carry for blocks. There was no way they were going in stealthy so Desantos ordered his men to go all weapons hot.

  ***

  Schriever Research Tent

  Doctor Jessica Hanson entered the air lock door backwards, coffee in hand. Success! She was getting better, not one drop spilled. Jessica was suddenly startled and surprised to see a man standing near the autopsy table, his back facing her. He was shorter than she and when he turned to face her a tingle of warning scaled the base of her neck. His face was completely flat except for the lightning bolt of a nose, obviously broken multiple times.

  “Can… can I help you?” Jessica stammered.

  “I’m lost. I just got out of quarantine down the way and I’m clean... I swear,” Pug said, putting his arms in the air in mock surrender. “I was hoping to find the civilian sleeping quarters and some food,” he lied as he slowly lowered his arms and felt his pocket to make sure the map was hidden away.

  Despite the man’s ex-con looks, Jessica felt the urge to help him... and always a sucker for a stray, caved to the impulse. After a moment of thought she tilted her head and said, “I was going to wait for Doctor Fuentes to come back and help me wheel Archie over to the infirmary. Fuentes is the brains behind the cure... you have to meet him.” Jessica mentally scolded herself for talking but she was still so excited about the prospects of the antiserum and Archie had been OK for quite some time now... Too late Jessica... once again there’s no way you can take back your words now, she thought to herself.

  Pug smiled, displaying his jumbled teeth and said, “I would love to.”

  “I have a proposition for you... a trade off of sorts,” Jessica said.

  “What is it?” Pug asked, sounding intrigued. The voices in his head screamed yes, yes, yes!

  “Help me with Archie and I will show you around the base.”

  “Sounds like a fair deal... after all, I’m prone to getting lost. Why is this guy Archie here anyways?”

  “Archie survived a bite,” Jessica said dramatically, arching her eyebrows.

  “A dog bite?” Pug asked, playing dumb.

  “No,” Jessica said conspiratorially. “He was bitten by an infected creature. He had the Omega virus in him and he started to turn. The doctor’s antiserum brought him back.”

  “Really?” Kill her now... “Is there enough for everyone that gets bit?”

  “Not yet... but we’re working on it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Archie. He’s a real nice man.” Jessica turned and headed for the far inner air seal leading to the makeshift recovery area.

  ***

  Eastern fence line

  Schriever AFB

  “The gun will rise slightly from the recoil so keep both hands on the grip... like this.” Brook stood behind Raven, arms wrapped around her, showing her daughter how to correctly hold the compact Glock 19. “This long thing on top is called the slide. It comes back really fas
t so you have to keep your top hand out of the way or you’ll get pinched. OK... the safety is on the trigger. I’m going to stand behind you. You put your finger on the trigger, aim and shoot when you are ready.”

  Brook backed away a few paces.

  Raven’s hands wavered slightly.

  Bang.

  The pistol jumped and Raven jumped, but the pop can didn’t move. Brook was pleased to see that her petite eleven-year-old kept her grip firm and still had possession of the gun. “I only loaded six rounds but the gun can hold fifteen if you need it to. Take your time and shoot until the slide locks open.”

  Raven spaced out the shots. The third time was the charm, the Coke can which was sitting on the ground ten feet away suddenly flew backwards with a new hole in it.

  “I got it!” Raven said excitedly with a big toothy grin.

  “Good shooting sweetie... are you ready to try shooting at some Z’s?”

  “Not today,” Raven answered anxiously. “Can we go see Carl and Mike Junior instead?”

  “Annie, Mike Junior and the twins are back in their quarters now, but we can stop by and see Uncle Carl,” Brook said, stroking her daughter’s hair.

  “OK. Let’s go Mom.”