Infected Zone (Book 1): Survivors of New York

by Kempf, Shaun

  At eighteen, Nick was asked to join the Marines. He had been staying in one of the refugee camps with his parents and the Marines had arrived asking for volunteers to join the fight against the infected. Nick had signed up as a way to help provide some extra income for himself and his parents. During his training, it was determined that he had an aptitude to be a pilot and was quickly transferred to flight school after basic. Nick felt, at the time, it was a perfect move. Pilots not only had a longer life expectancy, but they got paid more. He did well in flight school and found he had a passion for flying. However, a few months after graduating he got word that the camp he had come from had been overrun by infected. He tried to find out about his parents, but was told that it had been bad at the camp and those that had survived had scattered with no way to know who did and who did not survive.

  After that, he had been bitter about everything. He thought that the government should have been able to prevent the infection from getting to the camp. Although he always kept a look out for any signs that his parents might still be alive, he long ago gave up that hope. More so, his hope for a victory in this war against the infected was quickly fading. When he flew missions, like this one, he was just going through the motions. Things were still so busy at the base that he kept his head down and no one bothered him or noticed his lack of motivation. Had they asked for volunteers for this mission he would have refused. Instead, he was next in the rotation and had no choice.

  Movement near the door caught his attention and he half glanced in the door’s direction. It was opening. ‘It’s about time’ he thought. He turned his attention back to the cockpit and started to prepare the helicopter for lift off. He wanted to be in the air as soon as the last boot left the roof. Then a hand slammed against his door window.

  Nick jumped slightly, being mostly restrained by the harness he wore, and looked out the window into the hungry dead eyes of one of the infected.

  “Shit.”

  Nick reacted without thinking. He began to lift off, it was his only escape and he was going to take it. Once the wheels had cleared the roof he turned the helicopter to face the door and drifted back slightly before lowering the nose and moving forward. The roof was quickly flooding with the infected. They were pouring out of the door and racing towards him. Nick had decided that he was about to give them all a little haircut and take a little off the top. He pushed forward on the Cyclic.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder just as he reached the first wave of infected. He glanced down and saw a blue-green hand with yellow fingernails holding onto his shoulder. His gaze followed the hand up to the arm and then arm up to the blank face of the infected man that had found his way onto the helicopter before Nick had the chance to take off. He quickly pulled back on the Cyclic lifting the nose of the helicopter causing the infected man to lose his grip on Nick and topple backward, but he did not fall out of the helicopter. Nick tried to roll the helicopter hoping to roll the infected man out of the open side door. He felt another hand grab onto his arm and pull it causing him to level the helicopter out some. He tried to fight against the new hand to regain control of the helicopter while at the same time using his free hand to reach for his pistol.

  To Nick’s surprise, he was able to free his pistol without much trouble. He pointed it point blank at the wrist, which he could now see belonged to an infected woman and fired blowing the woman’ hand clean off of her arm. Nick then fired a second shot randomly over his shoulder hoping to hit the infected man, but he was shooting blind and had no idea if he had been successful. He did everything he could from emptying his weapon, but knew he might need the other bullets sooner rather than later. Nick refocused on trying to gain control of the helicopter which was getting dangerously close to the side of the building. With controlled but quick movements he was able to steady the bird.

  He was just about to go into another tumble to shake his unwanted passengers when he felt teeth sink into this neck close to his shoulder. He let out a scream as pain, like he had never felt before, shot through his right side. He grabbed his pistol that he had momentarily shoved between himself and his restraints pointed the gun over his shoulder and pulled the trigger. He felt the blood of the infected spray over the side of his face as the bullet from his gun tore its head apart. The infected’s mouth opened and fell away, but the damage had been done.

  The pain from the bite started to blur Nick’s vision. He felt his right arm getting weaker. He dropped his pistol and grabbed the Cyclic with his left hand. He gritted his teeth trying to hold on. Then he felt the second bite, this time on his right arm. He felt fingers from a hand reaching from behind his seat close around his throat. He could feel the nails digging into the soft skin of his neck. The grip on his throat was tight enough to pull his head back and close his airway. He did his best to struggle against his attackers, but he was stuck in his seat.

  EIGHT

  Ben watched in horror through the grates of the elevator shaft vent as the Blackhawk helicopter dropped down out of sight below the roof level. Ben had been able to see into the cockpit just before the helicopter disappeared and could see the pilot struggling against two infected as they grabbed him from behind. He squatted there the silence of the vent as the infected groaned just a few feet away until he heard the terrible crash of the helicopter hitting the street below. The only comfort coming with the knowledge that the pilot would not suffer greatly through being tore apart or becoming one of the infected.

  He motioned to the Captain, who was squatting next to him, that they should head back down. Captain Perret nodded his head and they signaled to the team and began their descent. Before Ben began his climb down he glanced once more through the grate to the infected filled rooftop and one of the Infected caught his attention. At first, he thought it was the man’s red polo shirt that made him take a second look, but he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. The infected man was standing still as the rest of the infected moved with great agitation around him. He appeared to be staring at the edge of the roof where the helicopter had disappeared. Ben leaned a little closer to the grate, as close as he dared so that he wouldn’t get noticed, and studied the infected man’s face. It was the infected man’s eyes that drew Ben’s attention. They were, for lack of a better word, different. All of the other infected that Ben had encountered had seeing, but lifeless eyes that held only a hunger in them. The infected man’s eyes didn’t quite seem the same, only Ben couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Ben shook his head. It had to be the light or angle that he was looking at the man. He turned and followed everyone else.

  As they made their way down, Ben thought about the pilot. He realized that he didn’t even know the man’s name. He wondered if anyone on his team did. He would put his money on the fact that they didn’t. Although they were close as a team, they didn’t go out of their way to get close to anyone else. It was much easier to deal with death if you didn’t know each person you meet as you traveled through the infected world. It was then that Ben realized that it was something he and his team had learned through time surviving in the infected zone.

  Their team had fluctuated very little during their time together. Early, they had a larger team. There had almost been ten of them. As in any war, they lost team members, but they often didn’t replace their lost team members. Especially over the past two years. They had all already gone through too much loss and although they knew how much good they were doing, it was hard to bring in someone new and have them be part of the team because no one wanted to get too close to the newbie.

  Originally, when Ben and his team had been recruited they were integrated into an already existing unit. At first, things were fine. They went through the drills and training, but as time went on the squad started to split. Ben’s team separated themselves from the other members of the squad. Ben saw it happening, but did nothing to stop it. He half-heartedly told his team to be team players. That they should work and hang out with the rest of the squad, but deep down he, too, wan
ted the separation. Finally, when it was clear they could not function as part of the larger unit, they were made into their own squad. The rest of the base started to call them the Lone Rangers and rather than let it be an insult, Ben and his team embraced the name. They even created their own emblem of a white stag rearing back with a black background in a white lined circle.

  Static had been the only one that had been added to their team by the army. It was shortly after they had been separated and made into their own squad when a captain and private walked into their tent. The team had come to attention as they had been taught before the captain put them at ease. Then the captain approached Ben.

  “Lieutenant Hassinger?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “This is Private Nathan Ruines,” the captain indicated toward the private behind him with a nod of his head. “He’ll be your communications man.”

  “We didn’t request anyone.”

  “Didn’t need to. Since your squad broke off from the 18th Division you are in need of and required to have a radio man. Private Ruines has been assigned to your squad.”

  “Very well,” Ben said and saluted.

  The Captain saluted back, turned to Private Ruines and gave him a nod and walked out. Ben’s team moved forward to have a look at the new private. Nathan stood there, in his clean and pressed uniform looking around at everyone. Ben noticed that he didn’t glance around with fear; it was more like the private was sizing everyone up.

  “Welcome to the Lone Rangers,” said Twitch.

  “A radio man,” said Annie flatly. “Do you even know how to shoot?”

  “Yes ma’am,” replied Private Ruines.

  Annie quickly stepped up and got right in his face, “You call me ma’am ever again and I’ll break both your arms.”

  Ben stepped forward and pulled Annie back. She let him pull her so that she was behind him. Ben knew that she was only barking so she didn’t have to bite later. She was and enjoyed being a woman. Ben had often seen her flirting with other Rangers from other squads, but in their squad, she wanted to only be seen as one of the guys.

  “You think you’ve got what it takes to be part of our squad?” asked Ben.

  “Yes, sir!”

  “What makes you so special?” asked Gatlin, his deep voice almost making the Private Ruines shake from the vibrations.

  “I’m one of the best radio men in the Company right now and I’ve got great ears.”

  “Prove it,” said Ben. What he hadn’t known at the time was just how often Nathan would prove how valuable it was to have his ears as part of the team, but during that moment Ben wanted to make sure that he would fit in and be useful. “Right now, Panther Squad is out in the field. They’re known for their radio chatter while working in the field. Think you can pick that up?”

  Private Ruines didn’t answer. Instead, he turned on his heels and swiftly walked out of the tent. Ben and his squad quickly followed. Outside of the tent, Nathan walked over to a nearby table where a radio had been set up on a table for training purposes. He slid on the headset and started turning knobs. He held his left hand to the headphone against his left ear as he slightly turned a knob with his right.

  Ben and his team gathered around him with interest because they knew that Ben had set him up for failure. The Panther Squad was indeed known for their radio chatter, but they were well out of radio range. It was a dirty trick, but Ben wanted him to learn that nothing came easy in his Squad.

  After a few minutes of searching the frequencies, Nathan removed the headphones. Ben crossed his arms and prepared to hear the expected news that the private had been unable to find their signal. However, Private Ruines didn’t turn to face Ben, instead, he went behind the radio to make some adjustments. Then he came out from behind the radio with a wire in his hand. He looked around for a moment before grabbing a long rifle leaning against one of the nearby tent poles. The Private was attaching the wire to the end of the barrel as he walked back toward the squad. He pulled the wooden chair that had been next to the radio and dragged it over to Gatlin.

  “Here,” Nathan said as he shoved the gun into Gatlin’s hands. “Now stand on this chair and raise the weapon above your head. Barrel up.”

  Gatlin glanced at Ben, who nodded for him to follow the directions.

  “Come on you big ape, get moving.”

  Gatlin glared at Nathan before climbing up on the chair and raising the weapon above his head. Private Ruines went back to the radio, slipped on the headset and started to turn the knob once again. After a minute or two, he removed the headset and flipped a switch so that the sound came through speakers on the radio so everyone could hear.

  What they heard was static.

  “What the hell? All I hear is static,” said Twitch.

  “Listen closer,” implored Nathan.

  The team stood in silence as they listened to the cracking and whispers of the static. Then Ben heard it. It was faint, but it was definitely a voice and he could just make out one of Panther Squads call signs.

  “See.”

  “That is some pretty impressive static, Private. Well done.”

  Nathan had earned his spot on the team just by that act alone. More importantly, he had earned his name, which Twitch had started calling him from then on. At first, Twitch had begun to call him Static out of spite for making him look bad, or at least that’s how Twitch saw it. But Nathan embraced the name, even taking pride in it. Then, somehow, over the course of the next few weeks and handful of missions, the two had become good friends.

  He wondered now if the Lone Ranger Squad would fade away once all of his team members were gone.

  He stepped back out onto the forty-second floor again. He could hear a soft pounding on the door to the stairwell not far down the hallway. His team was looking at him, waiting for answers. They had not seen what had happened on the roof and were going to want to know why they came back down, though Ben was pretty sure they all had a good idea.

  “The roof has been compromised,” Captain Perret stated. “We’ve lost the Blackhawk and pilot. We’re going to have to find a way to get ourselves out of this city,” Captain Perret glanced behind him toward the pounding coming from the stairway door. “And we may want to think of something quickly.”

  “Why don’t we get ourselves to a nearby parking structure and rig up some type of armored vehicle and plow our way outta the city,” suggested Gatlin.

  “Come on, you know that won’t work,” said Static. “The infected are way too thick down there and even if we were able to make our way through the horde, the bridges are all out.”

  “Then how are we going to get across the Hudson?” asked Gatlin.

  “We’ll get ourselves to the river first,” said Captain Perret. “We’ll go from there. We’ll swim if we have to.”

  “I ain’t swimming. There’s no telling what’s under that water,” Twitch said and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he lowered his weapon so it was pointing at the floor.

  The group fell silent thinking about what might be waiting for us under the waves of the Hudson when we attempted to cross or tossing ideas around in their heads about how to get out of the city.

  “You know, I don’t want to sound like a mother here, but why don’t we just call for help and get another ride?” Annie asked breaking the silence.

  “Wish we could,” said Static. “But we’re just caring short range radios. They don’t have enough reach to get to base. The only long range radio we had, had been on the helicopter.”

  “What about the radio on the plane?” Ben suggested. “I mean that’s how we knew that they went down right?” Ben addressed Captain Perret.

  “They radioed us before going down and we used satellite pictures to find them.”

  “The plane’s radio isn’t going to do us any good. When Gatlin and I cleared the plane we noticed that the radio and most of the controls had been destroyed in the crash,” Static said.

  “We need to walk with
out being seen,” offered Standing Bear who had been standing quietly off to the side staring through an office door at the city beyond the windows. Ben had thought that he was contemplating their dire situation and perhaps coming to terms with the fact that they might not make it out of the city. He should have known better.

  Standing Bear, especially when the team found themselves in tight spots, was at his best. It was almost as if he had some great spirit watching over him that would come to his aid and give him clarity of thought that would allow him to think of solutions to problems that seemed, at the time, impossible to solve. How Standing Bear got the ideas didn’t matter as much to Ben, it was just the reliability of those moments that made him an invaluable team member and a great friend.

  “We’re not just going to be able to walk out of this city, Sergeant,” said Captain Perret.

  “Maybe we can, or at least to the Hudson,” replied Standing Bear.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Bear?” asked Annie.

  “Perhaps we can use the subway system or sewers to walk underneath all of the infected. We’ll be walking without being seen.”

  “You want to ninja turtle our way out,” said Static excitedly.

  “He wants to what now?” Gatlin said.

  “You don’t know about the ninja turtles?” Static looks at Gatlin like he’s been living in a cave all his life.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t a nerd before all this happened.”

  “It could work,” Ben turns to Captain Perret. “If we can find our way to one of the tunnels underground it should lead us to the river and we would be able to go the whole way undetected.”