Irregular Scout Team One: The Complete Zombie Killer series

by John Holmes

  Hart and Ripley made their way cautiously towards us, and we had a quick huddle. I was in command, but I wanted their opinions and experience.

  “How about some bait? I mean, they gotta be hungry, there ain’t shit out here on the plains” said Ripley. “When I used to hunt coyote, sometimes me and my dad would peg a rabbit to the ground and then sit back a ways, see what turned up.”

  “Sounds better than kicking in doors” agreed Hart. “Especially since we have no idea how many there are.”

  I thought about it. “That truck that we heard on the highway last night, see any evidence of it?”

  They both shook their heads; but that didn’t surprise me. Any vehicles would be somewhere around here, their base of operations, but they would be smart to keep them well hidden from over flights. “OK, let’s do it this way. This building here looks out onto the back alley. We have Vely and Dawson mosey in towards the town, drawing their attention. Close enough to be seen, but not so close that they can’t run. Ski can engage with the sniper rifle once we see the last of them come out, and then we can hit them from behind from the second floor here.”

  “Suggestion? We don’t NEED the hotel. Let’s burn it down” said Brit.

  I shook my head no. “I’d like nothing more, but it could spread too easily, and TWO columns of smoke in two days is a sure sign to anyone within fifty miles of enemy activity. No, we do it the hard way. You two engage, and Brit and I will go in the front door and clear the rest of the hotel.”

  “Not for nothing, Sergeant Major, or Colonel, or whatever, in case you forgot, I’m not really good for anything BUT clearing rooms” said Ripley, gesturing to his burned arm. “Ms. O’Neil and I can clear the hotel. You need to stay here with Staff Sergeant Hart and hit the group from behind with your rifle.”

  He was right, of course, even if I wasn’t happy about it. “Brit, you OK with that?” I asked her. She looked hard at Ripley, who looked right back at her, Colt 1911 resting comfortably in his good hand. Brit nodded and then got up. I quickly filled in Corporal Bognaski over the radio.

  We stacked in the doorway to the building, which looked to be some kind of offices. Instead of kicking in the door and maybe alerting the cannibals next door, Hart levered the lock open with a pry bar. I went in first, Night Vision on to see through the gloom inside, and we proceeded slowly through the dusty, obviously deserted building. Nothing had moved in here for years. Moving upstairs, we made our way into the back room, obviously the managers’ office. Kelly and I wiped some dirt off the glass, got a sitrep from Bognaski, confirmed that he could see us, and went over the plan one more time with everyone.

  “Come back safe, kid” I said to my wife, and she gave me a one fingered salute, accompanied by a grin. “We’ll be right behind you once the squirters are done.”

  “Always do, babe” she answered, though I knew that wasn’t true. I had watched her get airlifted out on a Medevac, and the memory still haunted me. I watched as she followed Ripley down the stairs.

  “Red set” I called over the radio.

  “White set” answered Bognaski.

  “Blue set” echoed Brit.

  “Execute.”

  Chapter 16

  In the distance, I saw Vely and Dawson stand up and start walking towards the town, from about five hundred meters out. From the hotel building, we heard a clatter as their lookout slammed the roof door in his excitement. He had picked them up right away.

  “Bugs are coming out” said Ski, about thirty seconds later. The two figures in the distance kept walking towards us, slowly.

  “Lost sight of them, house is in the way.”

  “I got them” I called, watching more than twenty figures scrambling down the alley in front of me. Hart followed them with her SAW through the dirty window, waiting for order to fire. I could hear the yells and cries of “MEAT!”, hollers of delight at the chase. Dawson and Vely were almost at the edge of the town when the first cannibal broke from around the edge of the house.

  I had told our bait to walk towards the town at an angle, putting some distance between them and the hotel, and keeping them out of our line of fire. I waited until the last cannibal had come out into the open, maybe a hundred meters way, and two hundred from Vely and Dawson.

  “FIRE!” I yelled into the radio, and dropped one with two shots, the first knocking him down center mass, the second catching him in the head. I shifted aim and started working my way back along the line, sometimes hitting ones that Bognaski was also taking out. Hart walked her machine gun down the line in short bursts, aiming for anything like a group. Hot brass rattled out onto the floor, and it was over even as my bolt locked back on an empty magazine. Like any good ambush, it was a slaughter,

  “Going in” called Brit over the radio, and then silence. Ears ringing from the gunfire, I motioned for Hart to follow me, and we charged down the stairwell heading for the front of the hotel.

  Coming out of the doorway, I collided with a man who was running to get into the hotel. I had no idea where he came from, we just banged into each other, knocking us both flat. An old, rusty shotgun he was carrying went off with a BANG that deafened my already ringing ears, and I felt a pellet scorch itself across my shoulder.

  I struggled to get up as my leg collapsed beneath me, one of the straps broken. He was a big man, belly distended from eating too much meat and not enough vitamins. “GONNA KILL YOU, MUTHERFUCKER!” he screamed and swung the shotgun like a club. I rolled and the stock glanced off my hip, sending a shooting bolt of numbing pain through my side.

  “Where the hell was Kelly?” I thought, and as he lifted the gun again to slam it down on my head, I grabbed at his leg and pulled with all my might. The man, off balance, fell on the pavement, landing on a rusted, broken tricycle. He screamed in pain and the two of us started grappling, rolling in the dust. I dug my thumbs into his eyes, but he had clamped his hands around my neck, and was squeezing as hard as he could. I’m not a big guy, and he must have outweighed me by fifty pounds. I knew that in most fights, the bigger man wins, and this wasn’t going to end well.

  Getting desperate, I slammed my head down hard on his nose, the brim of my helmet smashing it and spraying us both with blood, NVG monocle leaving a bloody ring on his face. He let go of my neck and howled in pain, then swung his fist in a punch that clipped me right behind the jaw. My head swam and I saw stars dancing in my vision, then the blue sky edged with black as I fell backwards. He leapt on top of me again and started slamming my head down on the pavement, only my Kevlar keeping me from getting a fractured skull. I was well and truly getting my ass kicked, and my thoughts turned to my son, way back east, and if Brit would get home to him. I scrabbled desperately for something to hit him with, but my hands found nothing, and my knife had fallen out of its sheath on my shoulder.

  The cannibal leaned over me, foul breath coming out hot and broken teeth grinning, blood pouring from his nose and splattering on my face. Some dripped into my eyes and I tried to blink it away, my thoughts wandering as my air disappeared, the pain in my shoulder from the shotgun pellet receding into the distance.

  Suddenly his hands fell off my neck, and his body was propelled off me by the butt of a shotgun cracking across his skull. Brit straddled him and warded off his feeble attempts at defending himself, bringing the stock of the weapon down again and again on his skull, until it was a shattered mess, the weapon splintered and cracked. Ripley pulled her off him as she screamed, trying to get at the corpse bloody corpse to hit it again.

  I rolled over, still feeling like steel hands were closed about my throat, and tried to catch my breath. My vision was blurry, and I saw double of Staff Sergeant Kelly Hart, lying on the pavement three feet away from me. Half of head was missing, and her good eye stared at me, dull and lifeless, but still with a look of surprised confusion showing on what was left of her face. Blonde hair acted as a channel for the blood to run out onto the street.

  “Jesus Christ, Red’s gonna kill me” I said to
no one in particular, and passed out.

  Chapter 17

  A fierce, blinding sun glared at me through a window, making me put up a hand to shield my eyes. Doing so brought up a whole host of pains, especially in my head, and the darkness closed over me again.

  When next I woke, the only light was the glow of a propane lantern. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. Brit sat in a big stiffed chair next to the couch I was on, book resting on the rifle she had slung across the arms of the chair. She had fallen asleep, and her head lolled to one side, drool running out of the corner of her mouth. She had never looked more beautiful.

  “Hey” I said, gently, and she sat bolt upright, instinctively scanning the room over the sights of her rifle, eyes darting about, looking for threats. She finally stopped and lowered the weapon as her eyes fell on me.

  Still keeping my voice low, I croaked out “I’m awake. Gimme some water.” My mouth felt like someone had poured a bottle of dust into it, and I had a hell of a headache. That and I had to piss like a fucking race horse. Brit handed me a canteen, cap open, and I sipped it. Then she gave me a couple of Motrin, and I almost laughed. Motrin and water, I must have been seriously injured. She helped me get up and use a bucket in the corner to piss in, a steady look of concern on her face. The couch creaked when I sat back down on it, and I felt a million times better. Brit still hadn’t said anything.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Where is everyone else? Are we still in the town? What happened with the cannibals at the hotel?”

  “Whoa there, Nick. Slow down. One thing at a time. We’re in the upstairs of a store, same town. Everyone is racked out or on watch. Do you remember what happened to you? Doc Bailey said you might not, you took a pretty hard crack to the head.”

  “Vaguely. Last thing I really recall” I said, trying to think back “is giving the command to fire at those fucking cannibals. I don’t remember anything after that.” I was getting irritated, and Brit put her arm around me to calm me down.

  “You got into a fight with some big dude, and got the shit beat out of you. I killed him.”

  “You? Why not Kelly? She was with me.”

  “Nick…” she said, and the look on my face told me everything.

  I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. Godfuckingdammit. Kelly Hart had been on our team for years, was our neighbor back home, and little Nate’s Godmother. Even worse, she was Angelo Redshirt’s wife.

  “What happened?”

  “You really don’t remember?”

  “No. I fucking told you, no.”

  “Nick” she said, being patient “we don’t KNOW what happened. I heard a shot and came out of the hotel to find you wrestling on the ground with some giant cannibal and Kelly dead on the ground.”

  I wiped my hand across my face. “Was it quick?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. In the pale light of the propane lamp, her fair skin looked parchment white, and I knew she was struggling to keep it together. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hungrily, and I kissed her back, tasting her tears.

  “Did you get her flag?” I asked, and Brit handed me the blood soaked patch. We silently held onto each other, celebrating in the body contact.

  “How is Angelo?” I asked her after a minute.

  She brushed her hair back from her face and wiped a tear from her eye. “OK, I guess. He insisted on burying her himself, wouldn’t let anyone help him, then spent the day chanting over her grave, some kind of Navajo prayer for the dead. He … he hasn’t said anything about her since then. It’s as if she never existed.”

  “That’s their way. He doesn’t want to be followed by her spirit.” I grimaced as I tried to stand up, and accepted her help. “I gotta use the bathroom” I said “and then I want to talk to Ziv, and Major Rhodes.”

  “That might be a problem. Ziv duct taped her and shoved her in a closet earlier today.”

  I swear I almost burst out laughing. Brit put her hand across my mouth to stop me. “It’s not funny, Nick. She pulled a gun on him when he wouldn’t accept her orders. He almost broke her arm.”

  “OK, so it’s not funny. What’s our tactical situation?”

  “That truck came back from the crash site yesterday. Bognaski took out all four of them with his sniper rifle before the even dismounted.”

  “What kind of truck?”

  A look glee appeared on her face. “An uparmored Humvee with a Mark 19 mounted on the turret, twenty seven rounds of 40mm, and a full tank of diesel.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Things like that only happened in adventure books. Here we were, a thousand miles from nowhere, and something like that drops in our laps.

  “Of course” she said, growing more serious “there are a couple of holes in the windshield, and Sergeant Vely is working on replacing the radiator.”

  “When will it be ready to roll?”

  “Tomorrow morning. It’s got Kansas National Guard markings on it, and one of the cannibals was wearing what was left of a uniform.”

  “Ugh. Well, I’ll deal with Ziv and the Major later. Can you send Red up? I’m a little shaky right now.”

  He came up a minute later, his face worn and haggard. My heart broke as I remembered him first coming to the team, a nineteen year old kid fresh from basic training. Now, four years later, he looked like an old man.

  “Angelo.”

  “Nick. How are you?”

  “I’ll be OK. Give me another day. Look, I can’t tell you what happened to Kelly. I don’t remember.”

  He eyed me for a second, looked away. “What happened, happened, Nick. I know she was a white woman, a Christian, but it’s not the People’s, the Diné way to talk about the dead. I do not want to interrupt her journey to the next life, so please, do not speak of her again. Maybe when we get home we will sing of her braveness, and have a Christian funeral, but for now…” His voice trailed off, and I could hear the grief.

  I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “Angelo, you are my brother, and your child is my child. If you need anything, you can just ask me. I wish I remember what happened, but I don’t. Maybe I will, eventually, but for now, I’ll respect your wishes.”

  “Good. Because you have bigger problems coming up the stairs right now.” He got up and slid past Ziv, who had a slight grin on his face and a cigar stuck in his mouth, and a furious Major Rhodes. My headache came back with a vengeance.

  Chapter 18

  I sat on the bed, head pounding as Major Rhodes lit into Ziv with a blistering broadside. He took his cigar and lit it, took a few puffs, then blew the smoke directly in her face. She stopped her tirade with a choking cough, and made to swing at him. Her right hook was aimed straight at his face, and Brit stood there with an amused smile on her face as Ziv held up his hand and stopped it in midair, her fist making a smacking sound as it plowed into his palm. The powerful Serbian held her hand in a steady grip, took the cigar out of his mouth, and leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips, a gentle kiss for so rough a guy. He let her hand drop and broke it off, and the pilot stood there, a dazed look on her face.

  “I like her, Nick. Much fire in this one” he said, an amused grin on his scared face. “It is not fraternization, I am Major in Serbian Army. We are made for each other, lepa žena.” He kissed her again and she slapped him hard across the face. Brit. who had come back up the stairs, broke out in a peal of laughter. Ziv walked past her, cigar back in his mouth, and Brit gave him a high five as he passed.

  “Sit down, Major Rhodes” I said, motioning to a chair by the window. She did, a flush spreading across her face in the lamplight.

  “I … I…” she stammered, speechless.

  I sighed as Brit set to heating up an MRE. “I trust that things are resolved between yourself and Major Zivcovic?”

  The pilot was at a loss for words. “Listen, Diana. Can I call you that?” She nodded. “I’ve explained it to you before, and I hope I won’t have to again. On the ground, Corporal Bognaski has more
authority than you do. From here on out, you and your people do exactly what we tell you, and no more trying to take charge of anything, all right? It’s the only way we’re going to get home.”

  “I understand, Colonel” she said.

  “Cut the Colonel shit. It’s just a brevet rank anyway. Everyone calls me Nick. Now, I think you and Ziv need to go have a talk.”

  “You should do more than talk” said Brit. “If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you, lady. Wouldn’t hurt that barbarian pig either. Just make him wash first.”

  “Brit” I said.

  “What?” she answered. “Way the good Major has been running her mouth the last two days” she said, pointing her MRE spoon at her “You’d think she was the next coming of George Patton. I’m just saying, a good dicking would do her some good. Helps me get through, you know? Well, duh, of course YOU know.“

  I loved my wife to death, but sometimes... “ANYWAY” I said loudly, to cover up the pilot’s embarrassment “I’d like to move out tomorrow, Major. Can you work with your navigator on the best route to the airbase that avoids towns, but might have some truck stops along the way? I’ll need it by tomorrow morning.”

  “I can do that” she said, grateful to have something to focus on. “I won’t cause any trouble anymore, Colo… uh, Nick.”

  “Good. I need to get some rest. Staff meeting at” and I glanced at my watch “2100.” She agreed and left, a dazed look on her face.

  “You know” said Brit as she spread cheese on a cracker “if she wasn’t wearing that baggy flight suit, she would have a pretty nice ass. Good for Ziv. I’d hit it myself if you weren’t around.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “Remember, I was in college when the plague hit. What do crazy redhead wannabe scientists do in college, Nick?” She took the spoon and gave it a very long lick with her tongue. “We experiment!”