I growled then partially relaxed as I spoke.
"We are rescuing you and I'm sorry for your loss but I'm not leaving without those babies, and we don't have time for this. Get on the buses as they pull in. It's do or die time. We can't hold them off forever. There are at least one hundred thousand zombies out there and more are moving in quickly."
"I need to know that we're not walking into a death trap, OK?" This guy was almost frothing at the mouth, and I took a second to explain, knowing his pain. Obviously, they had been through hell.
"OK, buddy. I get it. I'm Jay. We are from Newaygo, and we are here to rescue you. I'm not being rude. We are simply on borrowed time. Get it?"
Then he addressed me again. "My name’s Johnny and I've been running this for a week almost. We are scared, hungry, and tired of dying."
"Well the hungry part I can fix. Not sure about the rest. Let's get to relative safety and we'll talk, OK?" I looked into his eyes and saw him swallow, then nod. I turned around after gripping his shoulder tightly and started shouting.
"Everyone get on the buses. We have maybe ten minutes before the next wave hits us. We need to get out now!" Then Doctor Mansk was running up to me waving his arms and I slowed to talk to him. "What's up Doc?"
"Jay, it's going to take longer than ten minutes to load everyone up. Many of these patients are critical care and hanging on by a thread. We can't just throw them on buses. And also some of the mentally disabled will have to be coaxed on or they'll go into hiding and it could take days to find them. This is a big facility. I've been talking to the residents here and the director. We need at least a half hour to do this right or we'll lose people."
"Doc, we don't have that half hour."
"Jay, aren't you listening? We simply can't do it that quickly. We'll lose ten to fifteen percent of them."
"Christ, OK, Doctor. I'll see what I can do. I'll get with you in a few." Then I was hollering for Master Sergeant Trask again.
"Top!"
*****
Chapter 17
DAY 12: 1730 ET TUESDAY NOVEMBER 15TH
"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" I shouted as I sat atop the Stryker, manning the M2. It could be operated either manually or through a remote joystick setup down below, but I just loved squeezing the paddles in person while blowing zombies away.
It was going to be too close for comfort, getting all these people out. We had overstayed our welcome by at least thirty minutes, and the fuckers were hungry for our asses. I gave the signal. I was still somewhat in shock after learning there were four survivor groups I had not even known existed, that had responded to the rehabilitation clinic’s call for help. The sacrifice those groups had endured before we arrived reaffirmed my faith in humanity. Now we just had to make good on those deaths.
In a repeat of our entrance, select Humvees and Strykers with the Mk-19 grenade launchers opened up and a wall of flame and body parts started exploding outward from our travel path. The first thing I noticed was that it did not have as good an effect as it had the last time. The fucking zombies were packed much tighter together and were absorbing the high explosive blasts. This caused a smaller kill radius; it was obvious as only pockets of them collapsed this time. Shit. I saw the snowplows start to move and was instantly on the radio again.
"Hold up on the column. We didn't get as many as we needed to. Top. Hit them again. Double spread this time." Then I hunkered down as the sky lit up with flashes brighter than the sun as a double row of grenades walked up from over two blocks down the street to the front entrance of the facility. I saw the grenades finally made a difference. How long that would last I didn't know, but I hollered for the plows to roll.
We finally had all twenty buses packed to the gills with refugees and the supplies they needed, in some cases, just to survive. The formula and diapers for the infants and specialized medicines for some of the patients that had resided here were at the top of that list. I'd had to park most of my Strykers blocks away along with the majority of the survivor groups’ vehicles who had also come to the facility’s rescue. As big as this clinic was, there was still nowhere near enough room to fit them all. The snowplows would head in, followed by the Strykers. Everyone would turn around upon arrival and we would all head out together. It was the best plan I could come up with, and I didn't like it one bit. I had ordered the Humvees to stay back because with this density of zombies they were actually a liability, as were the buses. However, nothing we could do about the buses. They were needed for transport.
I watched as the plows finally reached our position. The Strykers arrayed behind them were sending out steady streams of molten copper and lead as they targeted the mass of zombies continuously surging towards us.
"Go, go, go!" I shouted again as the Strykers turned around in the courtyard, and as each loaded their troops they pulled in behind every double set of buses that headed out. I wanted support throughout the column and we didn't have enough firepower to completely clear the street. Wishful thinking. I was bringing up the rear and already champing at the bit to get going. Damn buses were so slow. What the fuck were they doing? Driving ten miles per hour? I had already received the heads up on zombies carrying metal objects to jam under vehicles, and that worried me. The buses were vulnerable enough as it was.
Finally the last bus cleared the entrance, and I held on as the command Stryker roared up behind it. I had ordered the Strykers not to get closer than thirty feet to a bus because they needed space to angle in their shots. Oh Christ, the reports about the zombies’ behavior were correct, just like back at the compound. As I started firing at the packed zombies, I saw hundreds if not thousands carrying metal objects of all sorts, mostly poles. Holy shit almighty, we needed to get the fuck out of here. I released the right grip and keyed my microphone again.
"Pick it up, God damn it! If you don't move faster, we'll be trapped. Move those buses faster!"
A chorus of "We're trying," and "The road’s too slick and we’re sliding everywhere" greeted me, and I cursed again. It had never occurred to me to bring chains for the bus tires.
And then it happened. Fuck me. Just my luck. Almost halfway up the line the buses just stopped. Why oh why, God, are you doing this to me? I prayed sarcastically. Murphy needs a freakin’ day off, was my second thought as I keyed my microphone again.
"What the fuck now?"
"I'm stuck, Sir. The zombies are too thick. They've closed in again and they're too heavy. My tires are just spinning!" The frantic voice of the driver came through my ear buds, and I groaned inwardly. I had given very strict orders that the drivers were not to speak unless spoken to, but this information was needed. We had put them in the command circuit for tactical security but I didn't want them cluttering it up. I had made it very clear any driver who violated that order would serve two months on body cleanup detail. It was our shittiest job, and was rotated around the crews, or used on those convicted of misdemeanors.
"On our way. Hold on." I switched channels again and gave instructions to the driver. In the background over his microphone, I heard LSS's sweet voice issuing commands rapid fire.
With a lurch, we swerved out of line, heading into the zombies. I was firing non-stop and had already changed the ammunition can twice. I had eight reserves left up top and I had a feeling I'd be using all of them as I vainly attempted to clear a path, but it was of little use. Like a bucking bronco, the Stryker rode the bodies up and down in an attempt to throw me off, which was impossible as I was seatbelted in, but damn me she tried. Then we became stuck. Holy fuck what now, but I saw the problem. We were sitting on a mountain of bodies and all eight tires were spinning while throwing out a fan of body debris. The crush of moving undead against us kept the armored vehicle from getting enough forward or backward traction to move. A .50 caliber round would travel through a half dozen bodies before becoming lodged in one, but it wasn't enough. They were moving in faster than I could shoot them. Oh shit, we were truly screwed!
*****
Major Robinson looked up from the GPS mapping display he was examining as he listened to Newaygo's away teams’ broadcast over satellite. For a force such as 162nd SOAR, it was handy having all of the information on hand, and Newaygo's communications officer was providing it whether she knew it or not. Robinson made a mental note to have a quiet word with this Colonel Scarmon and governor about operational security. Oh, he knew why Newaygo was broadcasting in the clear but still, some of this information revealed assets the rogue government was better off not knowing about.
Right now, Newaygo's forces were bogged down, as even the Strykers were having a hard time negotiating piles of moving bodies. Chatter was indicating they were having a tough time of it and were stuck out in the open. They had rapidly lost their window of evacuation. Probably time lost loading all those disabled and infants, Robinson thought. That he understood, and was damn glad the 162nd would be able to help.
The major studied his field tablet again and the satellite image imposed over its screen.
"Doug, do you see what I'm seeing here?" He made an annotation on the touch screen with his light pencil, circling one of the buildings. He was addressing Captain Douglas Price, who was currently in another aircraft yet tied into the same data stream as the major.
"Yes Sir. Thinking sniper positions?"
"Yes, what do you think of these?" and Robinson circled five more buildings.
"Looks good but this would actually be better, Sir," and circles around two of the buildings disappeared while two others were highlighted.
"OK, that works, and when we close in, drop the teams at those locations before heading in to provide support. Look at that mass of zombies on those side streets. I'm going to want the DAPs to walk the 2.75 inch rockets up their length to slow the bastards down. What's your opinion, Chief?"
"Excellent idea, Sir. I'll tell the pilots to be careful and keep them lined up in the center of the streets. We don't want to start a fire we can't put out, and no telling if there are other refugees hiding in those buildings or not."
"Agreed, but we have to slow them down. It's like they can sense the direction the refugees are headed and are already angling around to head them off."
"I see that Sir, well, you heard what Dr. Thomas said about them. They do have cunning, and obviously some means of rudimentary communication."
"Right, Chief. OK, I'll get back to you."
"Roger that Sir." Major Robinson switched frequencies.
"Pilot. ETA to the designated location?"
"Five minutes Sir."
"OK, take us up to two hundred and fifty feet. We'll test the Badgers’ reflexes."
"Just us, Sir, or the fleet?"
"All of us. Time to let them know we've arrived to help."
"Then IFF Sir!"
"No, hold off on that. I want to see how fast they respond. We know they won't shoot first. We'll transmit IFF after they've identified us."
"Roger that Sir, ascending to two, five, zero feet."
Major Robinson settled back and waited as the rotors changed pitch and he felt gravity drag at his body as they ascended. A thought occurred to him and he keyed his microphone to all ships’ intercoms.
"All teams check your gear one last time. ETA five minutes. Robinson out."
Then he waited for Newaygo's response. He was quite happy to see he didn't have to wait long.
*****
Specialist Kirk Feravich once again sat in the darkened Badger command vehicle reading a novel by the light of the tiny lamp fastened to the side of his radar station. There had been no excitement for the last few days but that was cool with him. It allowed him to catch up on his reading and socializing. He had a girlfriend now. Sure, she was a little older, but only by a few years, and she was sweet, as were her kids. He was happy about that and about the new infantry group that had rolled in on Sunday. Several of their boys had quite extensive libraries of science fiction paperbacks. Just the way he liked his reading material.
The console beeped, causing Kirk to grunt as he continued to concentrate on his reading. Doing a full pulse with both radar systems every thirty seconds instead of every three minutes took a bit of getting used to, but he was managing. Personally, he didn't feel the need as they could take out anything that could possibly get close to them within that three minutes, but orders were orders and this commander, whom he really liked, was a bit paranoid anyways.
Kirk was currently reading Farmer's latest book, and it was a damn good book about tanks, which he really loved. He wished they had some here in Newaygo. Sure, the Bradleys were close and had a frame like the M1, but it wasn't the same. Maybe before he died, in the distant future they would have tanks like David Drakes’ Hammer's Slammers.
The console chimed and Kirk's eyes grew wide as his boots hit the deck again, and he slapped the active button while tilting his headset forward. Active AESA pulses started cycling and weapons systems immediately locked onto possible targets as the active array identified the aircraft in their envelopes. He hit a point on his screen and almost instantly he was communicating with Corporal Rider with the away team so he made it brief.
"Ma'am. We have twenty-six bogies at two, five, zero altitude bearing on your coordinates. Speed is one hundred twenty knots, and they are twelve kilometers out. ETA to your position is five minutes or less, over."
"Helicopters!" It was not a question, but Kirk loved talking to her. She had the sweetest and clearest voice, besides she was great to look at, so he answered.
"Yes Ma'am, and getting IFF now. IFF indicates 162nd SOAR Special Forces Air Group. How do you want me to respond?"
"Activate all three systems on standby and I'll contact them. Thank you, Corporal Rider out."
Kirk immediately touched more points on his screen and tasked half of the missiles to Scott's console as sirens erupted outside; he felt the subsonic rumble as the silos lifted out of their dirt revetments and swiveled into place. Almost immediately he designated targets and then sat back to wait. He could only hope they were friendlies, but it was unlikely and this was so damn exciting!
Damn! Corporal Rider had just transmitted to all clear and issued orders to go back to monitoring. The bogies were friendlies after all. Kirk sighed and keyed the systems down reluctantly. He got such a thrill from actually firing them, and was disappointed he wouldn't be able to do so again today.
"Hey Feravich, don't worry about it. I'm sure the rogue government will attack us again soon and you'll get your spot in history then." Private First Class Scott was grinning at him and sheepishly he returned it. Once the systems were back on thirty second pulse, he picked his book up and started reading again.
*****
"Two, zero, zero, two, two five, two five zero, Sir," the pilot called out over the intercom, and a grinning Major Robinson quickly lifted his arm to check the second hand on his wristwatch. He was grinning because he had a bet going with Captain Douglas Price, who had said they wouldn't be spotted for at least a full minute, perhaps two. However, Robinson had grown to understand and appreciate this commander out of Newaygo, and knew Scarmon would have changed his strategy and operational security procedures already.
"We are being lit up with AESA, Sir!"
Robinson laughed and responded. "Transmit IFF now, if you would, Pilot. Doug, you owe me two extra hours a day for a week. Nine seconds to detection."
"IFF transmitting, Sir."
"Whatever sir," the grumpy response came from Captain Price, which made Robinson grin even broader. In this day and age you took pleasure from the little things in life.
*****
"Sir! We have a situation!" it was LSS over my tactical command net.
"No shit, we’re stuck. What else could be wrong?"
"Incoming aircraft. Helicopters, and twenty-six of them, Sir. I have put the Badgers on ready state and IFF indicates they are the 162nd SOAR out of Kentucky. Do I have your permission to initiate contact to determine if they are hostile?"
"Absolutely, and do
not ask again in the future." I loaded a new can of ammunition in the M2 and flipped it to remote, then unbuckled and dropped down through the hatch. I doubted I'd be able to climb up on top again as the undead fuckers were already climbing up the sides. Ashley was with me protecting my back and I forced her to go first which she reluctantly did. Wow, the view of that black halter as she descended was breathtaking. Incredible cleavage! Then I was following, and in seconds had buttoned us up, then grabbed a seat next to my LSS who had her head bent over a screen inset in the wall of our command Stryker. On it, a multitude of dots could be seen vectoring towards the center of the display, a location I knew was ours.
"Transmitting on UHF mil band standard. Hold please." I scowled as I listened. It was amazing how professional LSS was until you tied her up. I keyed my tac mic and spoke quickly to Top.
"Top, get the Stinger crews out now. We have inbound helicopters. Twenty-six, and no idea if they’re hostile or not."
"Sir, we didn't bring that many Stingers with us and I have three more Strykers stuck."
"Well, get out what you can. The Badgers are on standby and can probably take them out in under a minute, close as we are, but they won't get all of them. Every bit helps, Top."
"Roger that Sir." Then I tuned him out as I heard LSS's voice again.
"Attention, unidentified aircraft approaching N43 14.04996 W86 14.90477, please state your intentions within the next fifteen seconds or we will consider you hostile, over."
Immediately a deep and confident voice filled the air as the unknown responded, "This is Major Robinson with detached elements of the 9th Special Forces Group and those of the 162nd SOAR. We understand you're having issues evacuating refugees, and something about a million zombies?"
"Only a hundred thousand or so, Sir, not a million, not yet anyways, Sir," LSS responded, and I could see she was fighting a smile.
"Well to ease your mind we're friendlies and we’re here to help. And while you have approximately a hundred thousand outside your door right now, there are even more on their way to your position. Is your commander available by chance, Miss?" I was already reaching for a headset and sliding it over my head I nodded at LSS, who touched a point on her screen and nodded.
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