by John Holmes
“…the BBCNews. The Allied Expeditionary Force launched its first area-clearing drive. British, Free French, and Spanish Exile army units started moving forward from Gibraltar into Southern Spain. Latest reports have them driving ten miles and establishing a defensive line. General Sir Richard Trask, Allied Forces Commander, said casualties had been light, and were on timeline to be in Madrid by September.
A Russian nuclear submarine surfaced outside US territorial limits in Hawaii on Tuesday, requesting asylum. This is the third Russian Navy unit to sail to the United States after the fall of Vladivostok two months ago. The Russian government in exile has issued a general order for national military units to turn themselves into the nearest Allied military base.
In Asia, United States surveillance satellites detected three nuclear detonations in the Himalayan Mountain region of southwestern China. All communication with official Chinese government sources have ceased since these detonations.”
I watched Ziv’s face as we listened to the broadcast. His normal expressionless mask was turning into a deep scowl.
“… merican Airborne troops have launched directly from securing the Mexican oil fields to an Airborne assault to secure the locks of the Panama Canal Zone. The 82nd Airborne Division, supplemented by elements of the 3rd Canadian Light Infantry Division landing by ship, are fighting their way through Panama City. Casualties are reported to be heavy.
Other American forces are reported to be making progress in an effort to approach New York City, reaching the Military Academy at West Point. A rail line has been reopened between Albany and Buffalo.”
Brit jumped up and waved her arm in the air. “Hey, that’s us!!!! Woot woot, Lost Boys in the house!”
We all grinned at her antics, then Doc shushed us. “Shut it, you foolish woman!” he snapped as Brit continued doing a war dance around the truck.
“…nited Nations Agricultural Bureau has forecast another year of food shortages, despite intensive planting in the Pacific Northwest of North America and the United Kingdom. UN estimates have placed the total world population at five hundred million, worldwide. This has been the World News from the BBC.”
Ziv had walked away before the news ended and sat at the doorway. I walked over and sat down next to him.
“Guess you haven’t had much news over the last few years, huh?”
He sat smoking a cigarette, then taking a swig from a flask. Ordinarily I would have said something about the alcohol, but not right now.
“It is all gone, no?”
“Europe? Yeah, pretty much. England is OK, they took in a lot of refugees in. There were some pretty bad riots a year or so in, but they have it under control now. Some of the Scandinavian islands, parts of Denmark. Africa, is, well, Africa.”
“Serbia?”
“No one has heard anything out of Central Europe in two years. Did you have a lot of family there?”
He nodded. “We Serbs have big families.”
Standing up, he ground the cigarette out and capped the flask, then started checking his weapons.
“Well, at least all those bastard Croats and devil Bosnian pagans are burning in hell now. I always thought I would go back and we would finish the job, but God has beaten me to it.”
I had nothing to say to that. As far as I could recollect, the Serbs had as much blood on their hands as any of them, if not more. Whatever. That feud was ended, after a thousand years. Death and the Zombie Plague treated everyone as equals.
Chapter 51
In the end, the container yard was a bust. Not a Z to be seen, and our main objective, the cranes that lifted the containers from the ships to the trucks, sat mute. From everything we could tell, they seemed in good condition, but I couldn’t answer the Navy’s main question of whether they worked or not. I had brought up that specific point when we were getting our mission brief, but I was told to just do my best. Of course, when I reported this, they blew their stack.
“Swabbie six niner, this is Lostboys six, over.”
“Lostboys, use proper callsigns, over.”
I ran my finger down the Signal Operating Instructions that I had taped to my forearm.
“Ah, Rapier seven two, this is Lostboys six, over.”
“This is Rapier six, you are sending unsecure, please authenticate, over.”
Great, the frigging admiral in charge of the Navy Task Force was sitting off New York Harbor, and he wanted me to send different word codes to make sure I was really me. Who the hell else would be calling him? Plus, he was a jerk anyway, which I knew from personal experience.
“Rapier six, I authenticate your daughter has a birthmark on her right breast, just below her nipple, over.”
Brit shot me a dirty look. I grinned at her. “Hey, you weren’t the only one to have a good time in Bermuda last year.”
The radio stayed silent for a minute, then the fleet executive officer came on. “Roger, Lost Boys, this is Rapier five, I also can confirm. Send your traffic, over.” Ha ha, that would be Captain Reynolds. Fighter pilot, good guy, and man, could he drink.
I gave them the quick lowdown on the terminal. The loading docks were all secure, buildings looked good, but we were unable to determine if the cranes worked without power, as we had said in our initial briefing.
“Lost Boys, this is Rapier Six. What do you mean you can’t determine if they work, over?” He sounded pissed.
“I mean without a massive generator to tie into the power infrastructure, there is no way to determine. They look functional, over.”
Captain Reynolds came back online.
“Lost Boys, what is your tactical situation, over?”
“Rapier, we are secure at this time. When can we expect exfill, over?”
“Twenty- four to thirty-six hours, unless your situation deteriorates. QRF is tied up in Philadelphia, over.”
Great. Would have been nice if they could have come and get us right away.
“This is Lost Boys, twenty- four to thirty-six, out.”
I gathered the team around. Killeen was up on the roof, pulling overwatch.
“Well, here’s the deal. The Marines can’t get here for a day, day and half. If we sit tight, nice and quiet, there shouldn’t be much of a problem. Nearest residential area is more than half mile away and I think our sniper teams have already cleared out the local Zulus.”
“A lot less than usual.” observed Ahmed. “Something doesn’t seem right. This was a heavily populated area. The number of wanderers alone should be in the hundreds.”
Doc chimed in. “I remember the evacuation out of the City didn’t cover Staten Island, since the Goethals Bridge had become jam-packed with crashed vehicles on day one of the plague. Place was a madhouse. Boats running out, gunfights, riots. Army just basically wrote it off after day three.”
“Well, regardless, it seems quiet here. We’ve hunted the whole compound out, killed maybe another six Zulus outside the gate. Doc, how is Desen doing?”
“Seems OK so far, but he needs proper medical attention. I’ve splinted the leg and given him antibiotics and painkillers, but the longer he doesn’t get it set properly, the bigger the chance of infection and improper healing.”
“Keep an eye on him. Position improvement, overwatch from the roof. Soon as it’s dark, sleep rotation. I’ve got a weird feeling, but hopefully by this time tomorrow we’ll be turning this place over to the jarheads.”
Killeen’s’ voice crackled over the radio. “Sarge, we got movement, human heat sources, vehicle noises and engine heat. Two vehicles, no, three. Stopped about three hundred meters back. Looks like scouts moving up either side of the street. I count two scouts and eleven in the main body. One vehicle mounted weapon.” I could barely understand him between the southern drawl and the dip in his mouth.
“I copy, be there in a second.”
Everyone had heard the transmission and started scrambling to fighting positions inside the building. I headed up to the roof, followed by Ahmed. Along the way, I told Red to be rea
dy to go out and do a meet and greet, bring Ziv as a body guard. We had done this before, encountered survivors, and it could go three ways. One, they welcomed us with open arms and wanted our help. Two, they were indifferent and went their own way. Three, well, three was to be avoided at all costs.
Chapter 52
At my signal, Doc launched a flare from his 203. It burst into light directly over the main body of intruders, and they immediately went to ground behind wrecked cars. It slowly drifted down and burned out as it lay on the pavement.
When it was out, Redshirt crept forward, followed by Ziv. Now the hard part. They knew we were here, next move was up to them. We waited a few minutes, but they did nothing.
Red stood up and yelled out “UNITED STATES ARMY!” at the top of his lungs. The response was a shot from one of the scouts. Red grabbed his chest just as Ziv tackled him, and they both fell to the ground as the machine gun on the vehicle opened up, along with scattered rifle shots.
Rounds started skipping across the pavement where they had fallen, and Ziv picked Red up in a fireman’s carry, dashing back to the cover of some cars. Killeen and Ahmed started firing, trying to take out the machine gunner. The vehicle accelerated forward, and the front of the building was shattered by dozens of rounds.
Doc placed a high explosive round directly onto the cab of the truck, and it exploded with a muted crump. Flames burst out of the engine compartment, and the truck swerved, crashed through a storefront.
Shots started coming at us on the roof, aimed at the muzzle flashes of the sniper rifles. Dust flew from the wall in front of us as several zipped past, making flat, cracking noises. I fired back a long burst, hitting one of the scouts who had risen to fire at Ziv. Beside me, Killeen grunted and fell back.
“Nick, they are pulling back!” yelled Ahmed. We fired a few more shots at them, but I could see them running down the street, leaving a half dozen bodies and the burning pickup truck. I called for a cease fire over the radio. No need to waste ammo, and there was going to be a shitload of zombies attracted to the noise of that firefight.
“Check on Killeen!” I yelled as I raced down the stairs, scrambling down the ladder to the first floor.
I waved at Brit to follow and told to Doc to go check out Killeen. We headed out the door toward where Ziv was carrying Red back to the building and helped put him down on the ground.
Brit ripped open his body armor and started feeling for blood. “Ow, dammit, that hurts,” grunted Red. She shone a flashlight onto his chest where a big purple bruise was spreading. A red mark showed where the ceramic front plate had been driven into his skin.
Brit kissed him on the cheek and yelled in his ear “Suck it up, you puss!”
“Ziv, Brit, get him inside.” I started to run back, but Docs’ voice came over the radio.
“Nick, Killeen is dead.”
Chapter 53
“Roger, understood. You want us to reconnoiter the approaches to the Verrazano Bridge, see if it is serviceable, Lost Boys out.”
“Well now, ain’t that just a bullshit mission.” Brit said through a mouthful of #12 MRE, Penne pasta with vegetarian sauce.
Ziv stared at her. “How can you eat that crap? It tastes like cardboard.”
“You should see what it tastes like when I poop it out. Same consistency, too.”
“Maybe someday I will.”
“Over my dead body, Troll.” He did kind of resemble one as he sat there grinning with his bad European dental work and massive shoulders.
Doc laughed. “I think you’ve met your match, Brit.” Then he noticed the black bag with Killeens' body in it. He sat for a moment watching Red digging a grave for him over by the fence, then got up to go back inside and check on the two unknown intruders whom we had found still breathing. One was barely alive and the other was babbling in a fever. We had no medicines for them. Or, more like none I wanted to spare for them.
“Obviously we aren’t going to walk there. It’s a few miles. We can take Highway 278 across the island, but I’m afraid that even if we can get there, getting back again will be a problem. We’ve got the gangbangers to worry about, and whatever Zulus get stirred up and traffic jams.”
We had patrolled down the road about a quarter mile, checking out the buildings and looking for any hidden observers left behind by the intruders last night. The road got progressively more jammed as you got out to the highway, and I was sure the eastern ramps to the Goethel’s Bridge over to Jersey would be a massive cluster.
“So, we have a mission from higher which can be done by us, take a day or so, and likely get the team wiped out. Plus we will have to leave two people behind with Desen. Doc and Red, probably, so that leaves me, Brit, and Ziv to recon through 12 klicks of one of the most densely populated areas of the country.”
“We’re good, but we ain’t that good, Nick.” said Brit. “Ever read Band of Brothers? What Major Winters did when they wanted him to send out a useless patrol?”
Ziv grunted, and said “Yes, he told his higher that he had done mission, but not send patrol. We often do this in Serbian war when commanders are stupid.”
“Wow, he can read, too!”
Ziv laughed at her. “I am from foreign country, not stupid, Little Girl.”
“Great, now you two kiss.” I held up my hand to Ziv as he looked at me with a shocked expression and said, “But she is your woman!” Brit made a gagging sound.
“It’s just an expression. It means ‘let’s get on with what we were doing.’”
“You Americans with your slang.”
As far as Mid-Atlantic Command knew, we rolled out bright and early the next morning, made it as far as the interchange for I-278 and US 440, and had to turn back due to blocked roads. We actually used the time to clean our weapons and get some sleep. The last of the unknown shooters died just as the first Marine Osprey came thundering in and a squad rushed out the back.
Doc packed up his aid bag and stripped off his gloves. Before he had slipped into unconsciousness, the man had bragged about being a Crip, how they ruled the island, motherfuckers were going to pay, yadda, yadda.
I had seen it before. Gangs were often the only organized, well-enough armed and ruthless enough group to cope with the zombie outbreaks in an urban environment. They took what they needed to survive, from whoever had it. They often kept slaves and we had been seeing more and more of them turn cannibal as food got scarce. We negotiated with them when they were stronger than us, until we came back with more firepower. Sometimes they actually welcomed us.
Either way, it was the Marines’ problem now. I met their company commander as he walked across the container yard.
“Nick, I relieve you!”
“I stand relieved, Bob.” Another one of my buddies from our vacation in Bermuda.
“Looks like you had some trouble. Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner, Team Four was getting hammered in Philly.”
“We handled it. Local gang bangers running the show here on the Island. Looks like they had done a pretty good job of cleaning out the zombie problem, but I bet they will come back here with more firepower than that probe last night.”
“We can handle it. I’ve got a reinforced Rifle Company. We are going to hunt this place clean over the next month, zombies and scumbags alike.”
“Yeah, well there might be some regular civilians holding out, too. Seen it all before.”
“Agreed. Heard you lost a man. Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, random gunfire is random, and doesn’t care who it hits. It was quick, he took a round though his head. Never felt a thing.” In my mind, I could still see Killeen lying next to his rifle, staring up at the sky where Doc had flipped him over. A hole the size of a pencil eraser just above his eyebrow. I didn’t want to think what the back of his head looked like. Chewing tobacco and blood had mixed in a puddle on the ground. Someone had gotten a lucky shot with their black market AK-47.
We both turned towards the dock area. A beautiful sight wa
ited for us. A giant Roll On /Roll Off cargo ship was pulling up to the pier, pushed by a tug. Beyond it stood the knife-edge silhouette of the USS Reuben James.
“My company is going to hunt Staten Island. That ship contains the entire vehicle compliment of the 1st Brigade, 1st Armored Division. They are going to roll hot right over the Verrazano Bridge and shoot the shit out of Brooklyn, all the way to Floyd Bennet Field. Rangers will be dropping in next week to secure the airport, and the Old Ironsides tanks and Brads are going to roll up the Belt Parkway. Welcome to Forward Operating Base Killeen, Nick!”
I wanted to cry. I really did. My mind flashed back to the zombie hordes overrunning our position in the weeks of the plague, the madness of trying to survive alone those first months. I watched at the Marines set up a temporary flag pole and saluted as Old Glory was run up.
Brit came up to me as I stood there, watching them lower the ramp off the ship.
“Nick, check it out! New orders. WE’RE GOING BACK TO CIVILIZATION! HOORRRAAYYY!” She started dancing around me, chanting, “Clean sheets, bathtubs, clean sheets, bathtubs!” as I read the iPhone she handed me.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: LOSTBOYS6@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL
CC: LOSTBOYS5@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL; S3@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL; J3@JSOC,MIL; [email protected]
SUBJ:TDY of JSOC-IRST1
Nick, you and your team are being assigned temporary duty at Joint Forces Base Lewis-McChord as train-the-trainer instructors for Basic Training Cadre. Expect to be out of the field for 2 to 4 weeks. Bring your whole team, including attached elements. You can also be expected to be debriefed by the people at the Center for Army Lessons Learned.
Orders will be waiting for you at Fort Orange in Albany, then C-17 back to SeaTac. Try not to burn down the entire city of Seattle.
Major John Flynn
Acting Commander
Task Force Empire Shield
Chapter 54
