by Spell, David
People were running and screaming towards the exit and Luis and his new friend were going against the tide. Bodies were scattered randomly on the sidewalk with gunshot wounds. Blood was leaking onto the pavement.
“So, which way?” asked the officer.
“The last shots I heard were from this direction,” said García, motioning to the left.
“Ok, this'll take us towards the Georgia Scorcher roller coaster.”
People continued to flee. The two officers heard a few more bursts of fully automatic gunfire further down in the direction they were going and then the shooting stopped. They walked past a Six Flags employee lying on the sidewalk, probably a high school student, with a severe case of acne. He had been shot in the back.
As they approached the Scorcher, Luis saw what he had hoped not to see. One of the terrorists was holding down an older black man wearing a Six Flags uniform and was chewing on his throat. The man was still thrashing and blood was spurting into the air and covering the pavement. No one stopped to help him as they fled towards the exit.
García approached and yelled at the crowd, “Get out of the way so I can shoot this guy!”
The panicked people just ran faster. He pushed people aside until he had a clear shot from fifteen feet away. The victim was dead; there was no way to save him. Luis put a 5.56 mm bullet into the zombie's head and made sure he would never harm anyone else.
Luis looked around. He had lost his partner. Then he saw him. He had stepped off to the side to vomit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I've just never seen anything like that.”
“No problem, amigo. Just remember. A head shot is the only thing that puts them down. Let’s keep going this way. This where a lot of the people are running from.”
They kept moving deeper into the park. The Cobb County officer called in their location and suggested other locations in the park for responding officers to search. There were three terrorists down and three to go and Six Flags Over Georgia is a big place.
Three teenage girls rounded a corner on the walkway and came running towards them. One of them was holding her left forearm. Blood was seeping through her fingers. They kept looking back as they ran.
“He's chasing us,” one of the girls gasped. “Please stop him.”
“He bit me,” yelled the girl holding her arm.
“Ok, keep heading towards the entrance. You're safe now,” Luis said. Safe until you turn into a zombie and I have to shoot you in the head, he thought.
As the girls ran past them, Luis asked the local cop, “You want this one?”
Officer Phil Bryant couldn't believe all that he was seeing. He had been out of the police academy less than a year. He had never fired his weapon other than in training. He swallowed hard.
“Yeah, I can do that,” he said.
Just then, a boy, no older than twelve years, rounded the corner that the running girls had just come from. He was walking briskly toward the officers. His mouth was opening and closing and he was growling at them. He was wearing shorts and they could see that one of his legs had been ripped open. His white t-shirt was bloody and blood covered his face.
“That’s just a kid,” Bryant said. “I can’t shoot a kid," lowering his pistol.
“If that kid bites you, you're dead.”
“Let me try my taser first.” Bryant drew his taser and yelled at the boy. “Stop! Police! Get down on the ground.”
The boy was less than ten feet away. Phil fired his taser. The two prongs struck him in the chest and the electrical current surged through the thin wires. The boy never slowed down. He reached out and was about to grab the young officer.
García stepped up and fired a side kick that caught the boy in the chest and knocked him across the sidewalk and into a trash can. As the young zombie tried to get to his feet, Luis shot him in the side of the head. The boy collapsed face down on the pavement.
“Get it together or get out!” Luis snapped at Phil. “This is no joke. This is no training exercise. This is life and death. Are you with me or not?”
“I’m sorry, man. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see a kid come around that corner.”
“Let’s keep moving. We may have to shoot some more kids turned zombies before we get out of here.”
They continued down the path where so many of the fleeing victims were coming from. They passed two other gunshot victims. One of them appeared to have been wounded by gunfire in the legs and then ripped apart by the zombies.
They came to the corner that the boy and the fleeing girls had come from. There was an open air cafe to their right. Screaming erupted on the other side of the cafe. García instinctively moved in that direction.
A loud crashing sound came from directly behind him. One of the zombie terrorists had been in the cafe and had just knocked a table over. He was almost on top of Luis. His AK was hanging from his chest and blood dripped from his face. Both of his arms were bloody up to the elbows and his bloody hands reached for the federal officer.
Instinctively, Luis knew he didn't have time to swing his rifle around. He reached for his Glock. A gunshot cracked and the zombie’s head snapped back. He fell to the floor. Phil smiled at García and lowered his pistol. Luis nodded his thanks.
They continued to move towards the screaming on the other side of the cafe. Gunfire erupted further into the park. At least ten shots rang out. A moment later, a transmission came over Bryant’s police radio.
“Hey,” said Phil, “they just shot one of the other terrorists on the other side of the park.”
“Great! That should leave us with just one more. Plus, whoever else has gotten bit and infected.”
There was a souvenir store directly across from the cafe. As they got closer, they saw the last terrorist turned zombie straddling a middle-aged white man. He was biting the man’s throat and the man was trying to fight back, even as blood spurted out of his neck.
A woman with gray hair, probably his wife, was screaming at the terrorist. There was toy rack near the entrance. She grabbed a wooden toy flintlock rifle and started hitting the zombie in the head with it.
The woman was pleading for someone to help her but everyone else was intent on getting to safety. The woman continued to swing the toy rifle like a club at the zombie’s head. After the fourth strike, the wooden rifle broke in half. The zombie finally released the man’s throat, turned and dove for the woman.
Luis sprinted across the walkway. He couldn't shoot for fear of hitting the woman. He was able to land a front kick into the zombie’s side just before he could bite her. The kick knocked him into a rack of Six Flags Over Georgia t-shirts. He growled as he tried to untangle himself. García put two rounds into his head and he fell back onto the t-shirt rack.
The woman was kneeling by her dead husband. She was crying but thankfully she had not touched him. There was blood everywhere and contact with the infected blood could cause her to get infected as well, if she had any open sores or wounds. Luis gently pulled her away.
“Watch our backs,” he told Phil.
“Is he dead?” the woman asked between sobs. She had buried her face into Luis' shoulder.
“He is, ma’am. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get hurt. I need you to go back down this walkway towards the entrance. There are more police there. You need to get out of here and that way should be safe.”
“Hey, sir, I think there are some more of those things,” said Phil.
García pried the weeping woman off of his shoulder. There were two large black women coming towards them. They were growling and their mouths were snapping open and closed. He could see open wounds on one of the woman's arms and on the other one's chest.
“Stop! Police! Get down on the ground!” Phil yelled.
The two women were almost on top of him. He fired his Glock dropping both of them with head shots. The woman holding onto Luis grabbed his arm and said, “My God, what's happening?”
Before he could answer h
er, she said, "He's ok. Look, Carl's getting up."
Luis grabbed her before she could run to her husband turned zombie. He had just managed to get to his feet and lunged towards them. García was holding her against his chest, which pinned his rifle against his body. He quickly drew his Glock pistol and put one shot into the man's head.
"No!" the woman screamed. She turned and tried to punch him in the face. Luis caught her arms and held her tight.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. This is the zombie virus that they've been talking about on the news. Your husband was infected and he would've killed you. This was part of a terrorist attack. Now go. Get to the front of the park where you'll be safe.”
Six Flags Over Georgia, Friday, 1825 hours
After talking to Luis, Chuck called the Cobb County Police and relayed the information that he had been given. The dispatcher told him that there was an off-duty officer with García and they had dispatched additional officers.
Chuck walked over to Rebecca and gave her the latest from Luis. She had just gotten off the phone with Eddie at the Arbor Place Mall. She told McCain what Eddie had told her about the incident at the mall.
“I need to get to Eddie and Jimmy,” she said. “Eddie said that it's still a war zone there and the mall isn't secure.”
“And I need to get to Luis. I'll get one of these officers to take me down there. You take the Suburban,” he said. “And please be careful. I'm really looking forward to our date.”
In the midst of all the craziness, he was still thinking about taking her out next week. She managed a smile.
“You too, Chuck. Don’t try to be a hero.”
An ambulance had just arrived and was loading up Andy and Scotty. McCain could hear Scotty’s booming voice, “Of course, I'm taking it with me. It goes everywhere I go.”
Chuck walked up and said, “Everything ok, Scotty?”
“These clowns want me to leave my rifle here. They don’t know how close the two of us are.”
Andy nodded, “I’m a Marine. No way I'm leaving my rifle behind.”
One of the paramedics looked at Chuck with pleading eyes. She was probably only twenty-three years old and had never dealt with the likes of a wounded Marine Spec Op warrior or a wounded Army Ranger, both turned federal police officers.
“Sir, they can’t take those rifles in the ambulance or into the emergency room. They just can’t.”
They were able to reach a compromise. Chuck took their rifles and secured them in the Suburban before Rebecca left. The two men were allowed to keep their duty pistol belts on with their sidearms.
McCain retrieved his rifle and several extra magazines, which he stuffed into his cargo pockets. He approached the officer that looked the least busy on the scene. I can’t even imagine having to work this investigation, he thought. A major car accident during rush hour with two people ejected. A shoot out. The murder of a Good Samaritan and six zombies shot by the police.
The young black officer was seated in his patrol car typing on his computer. He looked up as Chuck approached.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“What's your name, officer?”
“Officer Matthews. Terrence Matthews.”
“Hi, Terrence,” he said sticking out his hand. “My name's Chuck. I have an officer at Six Flags. He just called me and told that he was following another van load of these terrorists into the park. He's by himself and I need to get down there. Can you help me? We might even get to shoot some zombies.”
Terrence looked around at the chaos on the interstate. He shook his head.
“Man, I can’t leave. Look at this. It's going to take all of us to sort this mess out.”
“I get it. But imagine being by yourself and confronting a van load of terrorists armed with AK-47's. Luis is a good officer and needs help.”
Terrence was silent for moment. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Ok, man, you're pretty convincing. Get in the car.”
Officer Matthews got out and told one of the other officers on the scene what he was doing. The other officer did not look pleased. Oh well, Chuck thought, you can’t make everybody happy.
Matthews got back in and they accelerated down the interstate towards Six Flags Over Georgia.
“I really appreciate this. If any of your brass tries to give you a hard time, I'll be happy to smooth things over for you.”
“Thanks. I should be ok. Blue always takes care of blue. If you have an officer in trouble then let’s get there. But tell me this. Since when does the CDC need a police department?”
Chuck laughed. “I asked the same question about six months ago. Right now, we're pretty focused on this zombie virus. We'd hoped to keep it contained but that hasn't worked out so well. Now, we're on the verge of a full-blown national crisis if we can’t figure out a way to stop this thing.”
McCain observed the SWAT pin on the right pocket of Terrence’s shirt. “How long you been on SWAT?” he asked.
“Two years. I’m on the Arrest and Containment Team. They used to call it the Assault Team but that sounded too aggressive.”
“Yeah, we sure can’t have SWAT actually hurting anybody,” Chuck laughed.
The responding police had done a great job of securing the scene at Six Flags. Several officers were checking the massive parking lot, looking for wounded people who had managed to escape the carnage. Others were entering the park as four-man active shooter suppression teams. They were escorting emergency medical personnel in to start rendering first-aid and to get the wounded out.
There was a lieutenant on scene as the incident commander. Officer Phil had let him know over the radio that all six of the terrorists were down. The reports of the infected attacking people had not stopped, though. The LT was still getting information from his officers and trying to piece together what was going on inside the park.
Chuck tried calling Luis. "Team One Alpha to Team One Delta."
Surprisingly, he answered. “Team One Delta. Hey, boss. I'm ok. We got all of the terrorists. There are going to be a lot of infected people, though. We had to shoot several. This is going to be ugly.”
“Good to hear your voice, buddy. I was worried about you. I'm here, near the front entrance. Where are you now?”
“We're working our way out. I should back there in ten minutes. We need a plan to contain this.”
"Understood. Team One Alpha clear."
“Hey, Chuck,” Terrence said, tapping him on the shoulder, “it looks like they have things under control here. I'm going to get back up the road where they need me.”
“If you need to go, I understand. If you can stay, I can use you. When my guy, Luis, gets out here, we're going to have to go back in and clear the park of infected people. You know, people that have been bitten and turned into zombies. When we go back in, Luis will be our point man and I would feel much more comfortable with a fellow SWAT guy watching my six.”
“You don’t think these Cobb guys will get upset? I’m deputized but I'm still out of my jurisdiction.”
“Well, for the moment anyway, as a federal police officer, I'm the highest ranking officer on the scene. If anybody says anything, just let me know. But my guess is that they'll be glad to have you. Suit up if you're going to stay and I’ll let you know what's going on in a few minutes.”
Officers continued to escort paramedics into the park to render aid to those who were wounded. There were several who had been wounded by gunfire and had managed to crawl out of the way or to hide until help came to them. Others had been assaulted and bitten by the “crazy people,” as one black woman said. The paramedics were putting three or four people into an ambulance and rushing them to the hospital.
Chuck was at a loss for what to do. They had no protocol for dealing with people who were probably infected but had not turned. They couldn't just shoot these people in the head. At the same time, if and when they turned later, it was going to be another terrible scene.
He called the CDC and managed to speak with a epidemiol
ogist who was working with the team trying to develop a vaccine. He told her what was going on and asked her to send doses of the experimental vaccine to several of the local hospitals. She said she would get right on it. At this point, there was nothing to lose by trying the experimental drugs on people. They would probably die anyway. And many of them would reanimate as zombies.
Luis and Officer Bryant got out of the park without encountering any more zombies. Luis gave Chuck and the lieutenant in charge a synopsis of what had happened.
“Grab some water and top off your magazines. We're going to need to get back in there and clear this place of all the infected. We can’t take a chance on missing any. The local police are doing a great job of protecting the paramedics and EMT’s but we need to go and hunt down any of the people that have been infected and turned into zombies. We've got to stop it from spreading."
Chuck walked back over to the lieutenant in the command post and heard a call come over the police radio. There had been an occasional gunshot from inside as the escorting officers had to shoot an attacking zombie. Now, a panicked voice came over the air.
“Request back up near the children’s area in the middle of the park. There's a group of fifteen or twenty of these things coming towards us.”
Rapid gunshots came from the direction of that officer. Chuck stopped counting at fifteen. The voice came over the radio again. It sounded like he was running.
“They got Robinson and the paramedics. One of them bit me on the arm. I'm trying to get away and I need some help.”
Officers had already started moving that way after the first radio transmission. McCain knew it was time to step in and help.
“Lieutenant, me and my two guys,” nodding at García and Matthews, “are going in. We'll try and get to your guys and help them and then we're going to start cleaning the park out. If you can get your SWAT team here, they would really be a huge help.”
