Kate and Nick looked over their shoulders at Kevin as if he’d just admitted to crashing a plane into the Twin Towers. Kate spoke as soon as she returned her eyes forward, “You did just see the giant fucking horde of undead we flew over, right? That’s not exactly a small fucking problem dude, and we aren't paid to rescue idiot Moroccans who make campfires in the desert.”
“I know. I’ll make it happen. I need you guys to trust me on this. Put us down as soon as you can. They don’t have long at all and I just know I’ve got to get to them.” Kevin’s knuckles tightened on the back of the pilots’ seats.
For some reason Kevin’s memory flashed, and he was brought back to earlier that day in England. He watched again in his mind’s eye as the dead British priest in the middle of the mob of zombies pointed a sword at Kevin, lifting it deliberately, as if he were knighting Kevin. When the undead preacher finished his bizarre act, he drove the sword down into the ground, spider webbing the concrete with a supernatural strength. Kevin remembered vividly the eyes of the dead man of the cloth, and how they stared into him.
For some reason, Kevin wasn’t afraid.
*****
Michelle stood her ground in the center of the three small fires as bravely as she could. Her hands shook with fright in the cool Moroccan night. She heard the incredibly loud plane engines approach from behind, stirring up a whirlwind of dirt and debris that she had to shield her eyes from. She could feel the thrum of the motors in her chest as powerfully as if she were being shaken by the hand of God. Next to her was the little boy Oudry, dead and shriveled, watching out towards the massive throng of the dead heading their way.
They would be on them soon. They had maybe ten minutes, fifteen if they were lucky. For some reason Michelle felt safer inside the three fires Oudry helped her make earlier, and despite the urge to run away as fast as she could, she knew in her heart of hearts she was safer right where she was.
As the massive plane roared overhead, kicking up a tornado of dust into her eyes, she felt a strong surge of confidence. On board that plane was The Warden. The single person who was tasked to save her and protect her, this night above all. The Divine had told her so moments earlier through her little undead friend, and she knew it was The Warden's task to save her. Running away now would only make his job that much harder. It took courage to stay where she was.
It took faith.
Michelle looked over to Oudry, her undead guide. Oudry had shown her the way here from the deep of the Congo, where the undead menace had started, right before her eyes. She’d witnessed the birth of the first undead, and watched the curse spread from one victim to the next like lightning. Oudry and she had begun their journey shortly after, and he’d led her here, sharing wisdom from beyond, and keeping her largely out of harm’s way. He was a symbol of the presence of something far greater to Michelle, and she was happy to have him.
Oudry stood strong, and still. The Voice inside Oudry had told her the body and spirit of the boy would leave soon, and it would revert back to the control of evil. Michelle was still trying to piece together what that meant when Oudry suddenly turned and faced her. His movement was sharp, and angry.
Oudry’s dead white eyes had disappeared earlier when the Voice spoke through him. Brilliant baby blue eyes had appeared instead of the cataract filled orbs that normally chilled her to the bone. She’d found solace looking into those blue eyes, and now they were gone. Oudry’s white featureless orbs had returned, and his little boyish face had twisted into a feral, breathless snarl. Michelle’s heart sank as she realized the presence of evil had usurped Oudry’s control over his own tiny body.
From the ground Michelle scooped up a rock the size of a fist. She hefted it in her right hand and when Oudry twisted and lunged at her, she brought the stone down onto the top of his skull, and felt the rotting bone and flesh give way with disturbing ease. The weight of the stone and the power of her strike sent Oudry’s frail, dead body straight to the ground as if she’d driven him down with a sledgehammer and railroad spike. He collapsed to the Moroccan earth one final time, released from the control of evil.
Michelle wept as the army of the dead marched closer in the darkness.
*****
“You’re fucking crazy,” Jaden said to Kevin as they walked down the ramp of the MC-130 into the chill of the African darkness. Jaden charged his M4, chambering a round, shaking his head at the white capped Kevin.
“I know man. You don’t understand. I know we have to get out there to that fire to see who that is. It’s like I… I don’t know. I just gotta go,” Kevin’s voice trailed off into the chop of the slowing rotors. Kate had powered down half of the plane’s engines so they could save fuel, but still be ready to go in a hurry if need be.
“If we get a humvee freed up, it’ll take us a half hour to get it strapped back down for takeoff. That’s not an option for us Kevin. We need these vehicles, there’s no way we’ll make it on foot.” The two men looked around at their gear on the plane as Jaden spoke.
The military cargo plane had touched down and was stopped at the end of the runway, right near a pair of large hangars. Jaden and Kevin examined the gaps in between the buildings, looking for local vehicles. Jaden’s younger eyes saw an old Toyota Hilux truck sitting parked against a wall about a hundred yards away.
“Bingo. We’ll get that thing started, load it up, and drive into the fucking mess like a posse of retarded cowboys. I love my fucking life. Stealing cars, and killing zombies. YO! Let’s roll!” Jaden hollered into the bay of the massive plane and his three other men came running. He gave them a quick briefing, and they were off at a run towards the truck. Kevin smiled at his good fortune. It paid to have good and slightly crazy friends. That they were great shooters as well was icing on the cake.
Coming down the ramp of the plane at a more convenient and age appropriate clip was Fitz, still favoring his side. Along with him were Quan and Kyle, and far in the back was Harold, who was collecting freshly loaded magazines to dispense to the men. Fitz spoke first, “What’s the plan?”
“You sit on the ramp, and make sure nothing gets on this fucking plane while they reload it with fuel. Quan, Kyle and Hal get to form a half assed perimeter to make sure nothing gets close to you, and the PJs just went to steal a truck so I can go check out that woman at those three fires we flew over.”
“You realize you’re fucking crazy, right?” Fitz asked him in a deadpan voice.
“Not the first time I’ve heard that tonight,” Kevin said absently.
“Did you stop and think that maybe we're right? Are you listening to these voices? You’re a fucking moron. There had to be five hundred of those bastards out there and you want to drive right through them to find some random woman in the middle of Africa? I’ve done crazy shit for pussy but no one is that horny Kev. That’s like, the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Fitz winced and put a palm on his side.
“Fitzy, there were at least 800 of them we flew over, and we are in the west of Africa, not the middle. If you’re gonna make me feel like an asshole at least have the common decency to do it right.” Kevin shook his head in frustration.
“Fuck you Kevin, someone’s gonna die. I don’t like this.”
Kevin looked his good friend in the eye with complete seriousness before he said, “Fitz, this is why we’re here. This isn’t a fucking coincidence. I can’t say exactly why just yet because you’ll really think I’ve gone off the deep end, but you gotta trust me on this. You know me. I wouldn't do this unless I thought we absolutely had to. I’ll tell you more after.”
Fitz gauged his friend, and knew he was sincere. All Fitz could do was shrug, and nod. He’d listen to an order from Kevin any day of the week, and this was much more than just that. He knew Kevin would take a dumb order and do what he was told to do, but Kevin would NEVER do something dumb on his own. He certainly wouldn’t risk his life and the life of his men without damn good reason.
Just then from the area between t
he two hangars the collected men heard the distinct pattern of M4 gunfire. The shots were paired tightly together and had the signature of a skilled shooter. Kevin knew it was the Air Force special operators engaging some kind of threat. Most likely the dead. The volume of gunfire was moderate, and he felt sure they were okay. If they needed support, they had communications gear.
Hal handed out the fresh magazines to the men and they did final weapons checks before wandering away to setup positions to keep the plan safe. Kate’s flight crew came down the ramp when things were as safe as they were going to get. They immediately started the search for more fuel.
Just then Jaden’s men drove not one but two vehicles directly at the back of the plane. Apparently in the space where they’d found the one Toyota pickup, they’d found a second identical truck. Jaden opened the passenger door of the lead truck and stood out, grinning ear to ear. “Fucking-A for Toyota trucks man. Started right up.”
Kevin smiled, and took off to get in the back of one of the trucks.
*****
Michelle looked up from the crumpled body of the dead boy she’d considered recently to be a friend. The moving wall of undead was closing in on her with astounding rapidity. It seemed to her as if they were moving twice as fast as she’d ever seen the dead move. Her blood thickened in her veins and her heart pounded to push the life giving fluid to her trembling muscles. She felt frozen. She felt rooted in place.
She felt… ready. Accepting of her fate.
Deep inside her a pleasing warmth issued forth made of inner resolve. Michelle considered the words of the Divine as they came through little Oudry. She knew if she survived tonight she’d be given a chance to help remake the world in a better vision. She could make true change. She could make a difference.
But she needed faith. Faith in The Warden; the man charged with saving her life tonight. She had to believe he was the man, the only man who could bring her salvation at this very moment. If she didn’t believe in him, and what he represented, then he was coming to pick up her dead body, and not save her life. Michelle dropped the stone to the ground and made defiant fists. She began to let loose a litany of prayers from various religions she’d studied over the years to reinforce her belief that she was just moments away from being removed from harm’s way.
Over the heads of the hundreds and hundreds of dead in front of her she saw the yellowing headlights of two trucks screaming across the flat land of the desert. They came directly towards her for a moment, and then darted sideways, skirting the edge of the moving landmass of dead.
The Warden rode to her rescue. Michelle smiled as she felt the first of the sun’s light crest the horizon, and kiss her on the face.
*****
“Jesus fucking Christ. You seeing this?” Jaden asked the team over his throat microphone. He looked out of the window of the Toyota truck as they bounded along the rough terrain. Directly to his right side was the enormous herd of undead moving forward with intent unlike anything they thought they would ever see. This was different, and far worse than Mildenhall.
Ethan, Jaden’s primary sniper and the driver of the other truck responded, “How can we miss it? They’re fucking everywhere. Why are they out in the middle of nowhere like this?”
Kevin answered in a somber tone, “They came here to kill that woman.”
His strange, confident comment was greeted with silence. Eventually Jaden spoke, “Kevin you realize that sounds a wee bit like the talk of a person who has ate too many paint chips right?”
“Yeah I know Jaden. But I know this. A single woman, standing alone in a ring of three fires in the middle of the Moroccan desert, after the end of the world? Come on man, that’s not a coincidence that we’re right here now, right now, just as she’s about to die. We were meant to be here. I get that now,” Kevin’s voice over the comms carried a weight and sincerity that the men felt. He was convinced through and through of his words. The four Air Force operators exchanged glances with one another in their two vehicles, and the drivers pressed the gas pedals down further, taking them towards the tiny speck of firelight that had drawn them out there in the first place.
If the dead had come to kill the woman, then they had come to stop that.
*****
Back at the MC-130 and the nearby hangars Kate’s loadmaster Logan was working with Dale, the flight engineer on getting a fuel truck they found started. The two men found it tucked just inside the open hangar door, and if their guess was right, it had enough fuel to get them to the group’s next destination, the Azores.
Dale was under the dash of the aging truck, twisting wires together in an unsuccessful attempt to get the truck started. “Goddamn it man. I am not from fucking Detroit. I don’t know how to hotwire a fucking truck.”
“Make it happen dude,” Logan said from the inside of the hangar, a few feet away. The crewman stood, hefting the weight of his M4, watching diligently for any signs of movement in the growing light of dawn. Logan turned slightly, looking deep into the back of the hangar, and caught a sign of movement in the shadows. He lifted the barrel of his rifle up and thumbed the button on the fore grip, turning on the powerful light attached to one of the weapon's rails. Immediately he wished he hadn’t. Coming out of the door of an office in the back of the hangar, less than a hundred feet away was a small stream of undead. He didn’t count them, but he knew there were over a dozen. They fanned out, forming a frightening line of danger.
Logan quickly dropped into a crouch, and lined the red dot of his AimPoint up and hollered out to Dale, “Contact Dale, step the fuck up brother!” As soon as he finished his warning, he began to fire.
*****
Kevin held on tight to the roll bars in the back of the Toyota as the sun rose behind him. It seemed like the sun was screaming its way up into the sky. Only seconds ago it seemed like they were in the darkness and now he could see the danger they were in quite well. Combat was like that though. Time moves strangely when you feel like you’re about to die.
The veteran operator looked out over the massive gathering of undead that was strangely ignoring the two vehicles he and his men were speeding past them in. They’d finally rounded the front edge of the teeming mass and were ripping down the terrain to get past them to the woman. It would be a tight race. The difference in whether or not they made it to the woman would be in parts of a second.
Kevin could see her now. She was tall, with golden, tanned skin and hair to match. She was dirty, and wore clothing that had seen much better days. Her sand colored shirt was nearly the color of mud from the earth that had collected on it over an unknown amount of time. Despite how filthy she was, Kevin was struck by her strong posture, and her beauty in the face of incredible danger.
The woman stood with her legs rooted in place, shoulder width apart. Her eyes were closed, and her hands balled up into fists at her side. She had elegant features, and Kevin watched, completely fascinated as her mouth moved rhythmically, chanting or praying. She doesn't look to be the religious type, Kevin thought, but what did he know about that anyway?
Kevin tore his eyes away from her and thumbed his safety reflexively from full auto to semi. He wanted accurate fire for this. After he did that, he keyed his throat mic, and talked to the rest of the men in the vehicles. “We put the trucks in between her and the dead people. All guns on that side open up to drop the front line of those fuckers as fast as possible. She gets in, or we knock her the fuck out and put her in. I’ll deal with her. Roger that?”
All the men responded in the affirmative, and the trucks dove sideways as they rounded the corner of the leading edge of the undead. The truck tires skidded powerfully in the loose terrain as the special operations men struggled to keep the vehicles on track. The ass end of the rear vehicle, Kevin’s truck, came out, and they nearly did a complete 180, but Ethan’s superior driving skills won the moment, and the truck righted itself, losing only a few feet on the lead truck.
When the Toyota slowed for that moment, Kev
in used the relative calm to snap off a few shots at the tip of the undead spear near the woman. He managed to drop a few of the walking dead, simultaneously bringing the woman back to reality. Her head spun in the direction of the twin trucks, and Kevin caught a wild eyed smile cross her face. In that instant, he knew she was expecting them all along. Kevin couldn’t help but smile as well. He felt vindicated.
The two trucks crossed the front line of the undead in just moments and came to a rough stop directly between her and the mob. Jaden opened the door of his truck and immediately rested the barrel of his rifle on the window frame. Within a heartbeat, he was sending round after round into the faces and heads of the Moroccan dead. People who didn't duck were easy to shoot. Their bodies tumbled to the ground like bloody dominos. In the front of Kevin’s truck Roger, another of Jaden’s men, did the same. In the time it took to wipe your nose they had dropped twenty of the zombies and weren't stopping there. Kevin’s heart soared. They had a chance.
The white capped warrior leapt off the side of the truck and landed directly next to one of the three fires that he had seen from the air what seemed like forever ago. They looked tiny up close in the dawn light. The blonde woman stood in the center of the three fires, smiling at him. She looked half lost in disbelief, and half in shock.
Kevin pointed at the back of the truck and yelled at her. This was no time to be vague. “GO! GET IN THE TRUCK!” he yelled, pointing at the Toyota's bed.
The blonde woman nodded emphatically and ran past Kevin, climbing over the side of the truck with surprising strength and agility. Kevin was dimly aware that the lady carried the scent of a flower with her as she went by. In the chaos, that comforted him. Immediately after registering the scent, he leapt over the same side of the truck, lifted his rifle and opened up into the crowd. Once he’d dropped the reaching and grasping front line of undead less than ten feet away, he thumbed his mic once more, “MOVE! WE GOT HER!”
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family Page 4
