by Vic Sandel
“Though the V-men (what we call the vampires) make up two- thirds of our force, I was chosen to head the group based upon my years as a Seal team leader and experience in the field. I worked with my V-man liaison, Bob Eller (that’s right Bob, not Vlad or Drac), who’s knowledge of his people’s abilities help in assigning mission responsibilities. Working with Bob dispels all my pre-conceived ideas of what working with a vampire is like. Aside from his centuries of knowledge and abilities, he is just a nice guy. Everyone on the team of thirty likes him and respects his opinions.”
“Now, if you are wondering how I have the time to write this, I’m not. All team leaders and assistants are wired with recorders and have been told to do the best we can chroniclinge as much as possible for a concise future record. I’m going to try, but don’t hold it against me if during actions, I tend to be a bit silent. In fact, I will be relating very little of this story. Most of the events will just unfold as they will.”
“Each, area tends to have its own version of a central command center. We get loose orders from them. It is kind of a wish list of what they would like to see happen. It’s really up to us in the field to assess the odds of making those wishes happen. Periodically the area commanders are able to make contact with the President or his military representatives to coordinate the efforts.”
“This war really stinks! Now I mean this literally. If you’ve ever had a good whiff of road kill, you have experienced the smell of something dead and rotting. With little to no organized sanitation, from your first breath when you wake to your last breath before sleep, that’s what you inhale. Oddly enough, and despite their blood drinking, the V-men also were offended by the odor.”
“This brings me to a question that has been debated for a very long time. In television and movie portrayals of vampires, there has never been any uniformity as to whether or not they breathe. I remember a scene in the first season of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” where “Angel” wants to save a drowning “Buffy”, but can’t perform CPR because as he says, “I have no breath”. Yet, another vampire,“Spike”, smokes like a chimney and “Angel” himself is seen smoking a cigar in another episode. In addition breathing is also required to talk. If you remember, an injured Christopher Reeve, could only talk when his respirator was on the exhale cycle. From personal experience, I can now settle the matter. V-men do breathe, but can hold their breath for a really long time when they choose to!”
“A couple of hours ago we received orders from our area commander at Langley Air Force Base, which has become one of the most secured and heavily guarded areas in the world. Most people have heard of Langley and refer to it as the place for air shows which no longer take place. But it is also been the home of the 480th Surveillance and Reconnaissance Wing, which fortunately still has some air capability. The air portion of Langley barely scratches the surface of what exists there. Established in 1916 it has become one of the most important military bases in the country. Below what the eye can see there are places where commanders can live through most disasters and still operate the armed forces. Today these areas serve to direct operations along America’s east coast.
“It is time for a team meeting to discuss our approach to the requested operation. Today’s mission control center (we move it regularly) is in a former leading department store on the lower level of what once was a popular Virginia mall. This is not done for reasons of secrecy obviously, but for the convenience of staying within a relatively short distance to the target.”
These meetings never have any late comers. Usually, if thirty teammates are expected, all of them would be seated and joking around with each other at least ten minutes before the scheduled meeting time. To look at the group from an outside vantage point, one would never know that he was viewing a group of twenty vampires and ten humans. The ease they display with each other makes them look like a social club.
Aaron stands, with Bob at his side as he opens the meeting. “Hey guys, needless to say we were just given a mission.”
With that announcement, Bob opens a flip chart upon which there is drawn a rough picture of a large, main building, with several attached wings. The shabby art work produces a few snickers.
“Okay so I never claimed to be a great artist”.The snickers turn into short laughs. “What you are sort of looking at, is a sketch of the Rocklee Hospital grounds. Now, a lot of you have heard this name before, especially if you were in law enforcement. It was originally designed as a hospital and clinical research center, but its location and lack of funding forced it into virtual bankruptcy. Enter the county. With state aid, the county took over the property with an idea of turning it into a mental facility. This suited the state just fine as they were looking for a way to expand their facilities for the criminally insane. At the beginning of the current outbreak, the regular patients were transferred to other facilities. However, with the labs below and the inmates locked up above, it seemed like a good idea to attempt to find a cure or vaccine at the facility. Illegal, immoral, or not, I guess those in charge were desperate. Who better to use as test subjects than the inmates?”
He pauses before continuing. “Now as far as we know, there is nobody left inside from those early days, but word has somehow gotten around that they were really close to finding a vaccine. Command has decided they need us to clear that area and secure any computers, hard drives and lab notes that might exist. In addition, while it’s a one-in-a-million shot, if anybody still lives in there other than the dead, we are to secure and deliver them to Langley. Now, Aaron has some aerial photos of the grounds.”
An old, folding movie screen is set up. As a generator cranks up, the screen lights up with a photo of the building and surrounding grounds.
`“ As you can see, there are remnants of a double, chain link fence around the facility. The simple fact that parts are completely down would indicate that at least the upper levels of the facility have been breached. A few zombies are on the grounds, but we have to assume there are many more in the surrounding woods.”
“Like we’ve done before we will drop some noise makers on the property from a chopper and scatter some meat chunks around. After it seems like most in the area have gathered, the choppers will hit them with the Gatlings. My ten guys will be first out of the choppers as they land. They will do the cleanup work, while Bob here and his guys hit the main building.”
Bob stands once again. “Now guys, we need to keep our senses honed in and alert. It’s liable to be really hairy in there. With all the rooms, corridors, and floors danger could come from anywhere and everywhere. Even with our elevated awareness and speed we are not immune to unpleasant surprises! We are going to be in close quarters, so side arms only. Other than that it’s your weapons of choice. One last thing, I want a couple of you to grab some C-4 explosive and rope, as well as some handcuff type zip-ties. We may need to open some doors and safes. You never know who you’ll run into and how cooperative they may be.”
“Get geared up, we’re wheels up in an hour.”
Chapter 7
Rocklee
Three helicopters whipped the air as they approached the hospital. Led by an AH-64 Apache attack copter and followed by a UH-1 Iroquois and UH-1N Twin Huey, they represent half the functional units remaining at Langley. Scattered around the grounds and hangars were the remnants of a few dozen other helicopters that had been stripped of parts as were needed. With just about all manufacturing facilities shut down, to keep anything mechanical running, Peter would have to be robbed to pay Paul. The six operational craft, represented almost twenty-percent of those still flying in the country.
The pilot situation was not much better. The few residing at Langley ranged from newly trained, to men who had flown over the jungles of Vietnam in the mid to late sixties. That put their age range between sixty-four to seventy-two years old. Still, this group did a pretty good job of keeping the birds in the air and getting everyone where they needed to go!
As they passed over the open are
a around their target, they hovered in various spots and tossed some animal carcasses they had collected, out the open doors of the craft. Portable CD players, cushioned in children’s inflatable tubes and Styrofoam scraps were also dropped to attract any zombies lurking nearby.
It wasn’t long before they began staggering and crawling out of the woods. They came in ones and two's, as well as groups of seven to ten. They just kept coming. It wasn’t long before they numbered several hundred and the flow began to slow down. They fell upon the rotting meat and piled atop one another to get what they could. Their growls were so furious that they could be heard above the whining engines and beating blades of the helicopters.
When there seemed to be no further newcomers, the Apache swept in. It flew low over the fields and let go with its low mounted twin Gatlings. There wasn’t a six inch space had not been hit by the fire as the attack copter swept the field repeatedly. After only a few minutes, the guns went silent. As the Apache gained altitude and cleared the area, the Iroquois dropped in with its human cargo. As they descended over the field, despite the gory mess that was left of what had once been people, they could still see movement. Expecting this, most of the men wore high, rubberized firemen’s boots instead of the leather they usually favored. Within seconds they had set down, offloaded and begun their bloody work.
The Huey hovered awaiting the signal that the area close to the building’s entrance was clear. It wasn’t long in coming. The pilot gave a thumbs up to the force, and with a stomach churning lurch, began a rapid descent in front of the main building.
The skids had not been on the ground even a full second when the first pair of boots hit the ground. Bob Eller was out first, followed closely by Jessie Porter, who would take point in entering the building. Jessie was a newly turned V-man, but had been chosen to lead out the men today based upon his years of experience as an Army Ranger in both Iraq and Afghanistan. Standing only 5’8” he was probably the shortest member of the force, but based upon the chest full of medals he received in combat, he might as well have been ten feet. His conversion to a vampire had only enhanced his skills.
Most of the men were similarly equipped. For the most part they would be working in very tight quarters. Inside the building they were to be operating in corridors, small rooms, and hallways littered with anything and everything. Long blades and axes were out as there might be little room to swing them. A few had chosen to wear what looked like ancient double-sided Roman short swords. They seemed so natural with them that you had to wonder whether or not they were the original owners. While a few had opted for a version of an Arabic scimitar, most had chosen a good old sturdy machete. All were razor sharp. In addition everyone carried Either a Mac-10 or Israeli Uzi machine pistol with plent of loaded clips.
The team split up, and about half went around the building to cover the other entrances and exits. Once initial penetration had been made at the front, they would enter from those points as well.
They were about to blow the front door when Jessie simply pulled it open. “Not locked, I guess they were expecting us,” he joked.
As they began their entry, the momentary stillness was pierced by the sound of heavy machinery starting up. As the operation had begun, an eighteen-wheeler pulling what might have been the world’s biggest bulldozer parked about one-half mile up the road. It rolled off the flatbed and set about the grizzly work of cleaning up the area and burying the dead.
Jessie and his group began a slow and silent entry into the hospital’s main building. Instantly, they knew they were not alone. Their heightened vampire senses allowed them to hear sounds that humans would never be able to register. While very low and sporadic, the sound of clothes rustling and a sliding shuffle was pretty clear. They all held their blades just a little bit tighter. The reception desk was ahead with a couple of long stilled computers. Chairs and couches that had once been welcoming, were randomly strewn about the large open area. Ahead the room tapered into a fairly wide hallway, freely lined with doors along its length. Elevator doors appeared to the left. Nothing could be dismissed. The doors had to be pried open and the cars determined to be clear. They had done these things before and everyone knew their job. One of the V-men appeared with a crowbar and began to force the door open so that a couple of others could get a handhold. Within seconds, the elevator door stood wide open. It was a relief to see it empty, although not without a few bloodstains. They moved on to the next elevator. As they carefully pulled the doors open, they could see the car was not there. As they stared into the open shaft, it was immediately noticed that there was movement below. About a half-dozen zombies were piled atop one another, as if they had been trying to climb back out. There was no telling how long they had been down there. While a burst from his Mac would finish them, Jessie realized that he didn’t want to attract a possibly overwhelming response from all over the facility. Truth was; they weren’t going anywhere, so they decided to terminate them on the way out. After placing some yellow barrier tape across the open shaft, they moved onward.
In a world afloat in unpleasant and disgusting scenes, the next room still managed to be a surprise. Sometimes, something can be so bad, it becomes almost comical.
Jessie approached a heavy wooden door and slowly pulled it open. On the other side was a barred cell door. Evidentially, when it was decided to bring the criminally insane into the facility, they merely added barred doors and windows to the existing rooms. They must have left the original wood doors in place for aesthetic reasons.
Although some of these V-men had probably been around for a couple of hundred years, no one recalled ever seeing anything like the scene just beyond the bars.
On the bed there lay what certainly once had been a man, most likely a prisoner. Ragged hunks of skin still clung to what was mostly now a skeleton. The insides were completely gone, and the blood-soaked mattress had turned black. Tubes that had once been in his arms hung from an intravenous tree and now led nowhere. One tube was still connected to a hand that had oddly been left alone. A large, breathing tube led from a long, silent respirator into the victim’s mouth and partially down into the throat. The ears, and lips were gone as well as the nose, but the rest of the head was basically intact. Not only was the head intact, but it was moving. The mouth was virtually chewing at the tube as if trying to dislodge it.
Jessie opened the barred door and stopped the movement with one swing of his machete.
From somewhere in the group behind him, came the comment, “he shoulda quit when he was a-head.” This got a laugh from everyone.
Nothing unusual was found in the next few rooms, but as they searched, the head jokes kept coming.
“Where are we headed now?”
“What do ya think we’ll find ahead?”,
“Enough, lets head home.”
The hall just beyond (not ahead) had a crossing hallway. It was from that direction that they began to hear the sound of water.
A glance to the right as they reached the intersection of corridors confirmed that water was indeed coming down through the ceiling from the floor above. The hallway sloped downward from their position so that the water was flowing away from where they all stood and down to what appeared to be a service elevator at the end of the hall. They had just begun skirting the falling water by hugging the wall as they proceeded to check out the area, when a couple of ceiling tiles fell. They backed off a bit, just in time to avoid being hit by the softened concrete. As they watched, thankful for the timing that turned possible injury into a near miss, two growling bodies hit the floor right in front of them.
They had obviously been nurses. As they positioned themselves back on their feet, it was another strange sight. One was really ragged and bloody, dressed only in torn panties but still wearing her nurses cap perfectly pinned onto her blood-clotted hair. The other was still fully attired in a knee length, once white skirt falling below her knees and flared at the bottom. To compliment the outfit, she wore a white blouse and still ha
d a pair of glasses hanging around her neck from a retainer. A name-tag that read Blake, was pinned to her blouse. While her face, hands, and hair were totally covered in blood,and she had the vicious, hungry look, she still looked sort of matronly. That was, until they both charged, growling and snapping hungrily.
A couple of blades flashed and the two “angels of mercy” could finally rest.
Moments later, voices could be heard as teams that had entered through back and side entrances, began to converge. They had cleared their respective areas.
They re-grouped into two teams of fifteen. One group would clear the upper floors, led by Bob, and the other, led by Jessie would enter the lower and basement areas where the labs were supposedly located.
As they headed down the stairwell, they could hear the chatter of the team members on their headsets working their way to the upper levels. It had been only a couple minutes since they began and they were already engaged in what had become a routine terminate and clear operation.
As they stepped down to what was the first of two lower levels the smell of death grew stronger. No electricity, fans, scrubbers, or air conditioning are available to give movement to the still air. The first opening along the narrow corridor had a sign above reading “cafeteria.”
The first six CAG members peeled off and entered, hugging the walls on two sides. There were a few zombies milling around, but they were quickly dispatched. Others however, could clearly be heard a bit further down the hall. While they were moving about, they were clearly not making progress in any direction. It was really strange activity, almost like they were waiting for something. Another really odd thing struck the team, as they moved into the eating area. There was a pile of zombie bodies. It was not just a random group who fell upon each other as their functions ceased, but a neatly arranged group stacked neatly alongside and atop one another. Obviously, someone had taken a chance and gone to pains to clear the aisles. It was really strange, but they filed it away and moved onward.
