“Yes my assistant, Miss Hansen, is in here. And I’ll need a minute to grab my computer and research files. Please wait for us,” Dr. Bernhard said, ducking back into the room. O’Hara signaled his men to cover the hallway, and he and Scott followed the scientist into his lab.
Scott wasn’t quite sure what he expected Bernhard’s lab to look like, but it hadn’t been this. Two walls were lined with bookshelves and file cabinets, another had a rack full of computer hardware, and the fourth held lockers with biohazard labels on the doors. In the center of the room sat a large Plexiglas enclosure containing a glass tank with a body inside it. Scott shivered slightly when he saw the body struggle against the straps that secured it there. It was a zombie.
Dr. Bernhard and a petite young woman with red hair and a slim figure were busy putting paper files, flash drives, and CD-ROM disks into two briefcases. The woman looked up at them and smiled.
“Thank God,” she said. “I thought we would starve to death in here. We finished off the last of the professor’s stash of candy and granola bars yesterday.” She turned to Bernhard and said, “Hurry up, Professor, I’m starving!”
“Coming, my dear,” replied Bernhard as he finished putting his laptop in its case.
“What about that thing?” Scott asked as he pointed to the zombie in the Plexiglas tank.
“We got everything we need from him,” replied the professor dismissively.
“Should we kill it?” asked O’Hara.
“No,” answered Bernhard. “I might want to come back to check on him someday. Just too see if how long it will remain animated without food, water, or external stimulation.”
“Okay,” Scott said, trying to hide his disgust at the callous attitude of the scientist. “Then let’s get out of here!” He reached over and took one of the briefcases just as more gunfire erupted from the hallway. They emerged to see the three Marines shooting at a group of zombies at the other end of the hall, with more coming around the corner. They were moving fast. O’Hara added his own well aimed shots and all of the zombies were soon down. Meanwhile the professor had closed the door to his lab and turned to lead them out the emergency exit. Scott agreed that it would be best to get out of the building here, even if that meant they had to walk around it to get back to the choppers in the parking lot.
Scott went out the door first, making sure nothing was waiting to jump them outside. The rest followed quickly. They turned north and ran down the walkway to the end of the building. As they turned the corner they heard gunfire from the parking lot ahead of them. Scott picked up his pace, fearing for Billy’s safety, and ran recklessly around the next corner.
It almost cost him his life.
A bullet ricocheted off the concrete wall inches from his head. Scott dove off the path, into the bushes, in case another shot followed it, but then he looked up and saw Mick wave at him from the door of the helicopter. He was holding his Winchester 300 magnum rifle in his other hand and smiling apologetically. He must have thought Scott was a zombie for a second. Scott was less angry than shocked at the moment, but he would have a talk with Mick later. At the moment he was more concerned about Billy.
He saw Billy step around the other side of the helicopter and fire the shotgun. A zombie that had appeared from behind a parked truck staggered from the hole Billy had put in his gut, but kept running towards him. Billy pumped the shotgun and fired again. This time he hit it in the head and the zombie went down. Scott picked himself up as the Marines brought Professor Bernhard and Miss Hansen around the corner of the building. They all jogged towards the choppers. Mark saw them and came back from the front door to the building, where he had been picking off any zombies that tried to come outside.
“You better take the professor and his assistant in the Coast Guard chopper,” Scott called to the Marines. “I still need to pick up my son’s friends on the other side of the canyon. Let’s get out of here before more of these things show up!”
“I’ll come with you,” said O’Hara. “The rest of my men can provide cover fire from the Dolphin, if necessary.” Scott nodded and they ran to board the Super Huey.
Scott climbed into the copilot’s seat while O’Hara and Mark stood in the side doors to keep watch. As Mick revved up the engine, Scott looked back at Billy, who was now sitting quietly in the passenger area.
“You okay, son?”
“Yeah,” replied Billy numbly. “It’s not like a game, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” said Scott. “But you did well, Billy. You had to shoot it, or it would have killed you. Understand?”
“Yes, I know. I just don’t like it.”
“That’s good, son,” Scott said with a smile. “I’d be worried if you did. Now hang on and get ready, we’ll be back over your friend’s house again in less than two minutes.”
The two choppers rose from the HRL parking lot, and flew past the old green building where high powered lasers were first shot into space and measured the distance to the moon. Space travel was probably something for the history books now, if there were any more history books written, but Scott wondered briefly if there were still astronauts on the International Space Station. Maybe he should try to contact them via satellite when he got back to the ship. That thought was fleeting. Now he had to focus on another rescue and extraction. He wondered how much more adrenaline his heart could take.
*****
Billy still felt a lump in his throat, but he hadn’t shed any tears after blowing away the zombie. It hadn’t helped that he recognized the man as being the manager of the movie theater in Malibu who had let him into R rated movies before he was eighteen. But he knew that whoever the guy had been last week, he had turned into a zombie that wanted to eat Billy and anyone else he could sink his teeth into. Shooting it in the head had been the right thing to do. Maybe the video games he played had helped to prepare him for this new reality.
He took a moment to load a more 12 gauge buckshot shells into his shotgun, replacing the ones expended in the parking lot, and set his mind to the task of rescuing his friends at Brad’s house. He was a little worried because he wasn’t sure if they would all fit into his dad’s helicopter. From the emails and Facebook posts he had received during the first few days of the crisis, it sounded like there were at least a dozen kids there. He only counted eight empty seats in the helicopter. But maybe they could all squeeze in. He felt himself getting tense as they crested the hill above Serra Road and flew over Sweetwater Mesa.
Billy didn’t see any zombies moving around here, but he wasn’t surprised. Sweetwater Mesa was on top of a five hundred foot hill overlooking Malibu Pier in the gated community of Serra Retreat. Of course it wasn’t the kind of gate that would keep zombies out; just a mechanical traffic arm at a guard gate that was certainly abandoned or overrun by now. But Billy had heard his father explain that the zombies seemed to prefer to go downhill, unless they were attracted to a target uphill. Billy had warned his friends not to attract any attention. It appeared that his advice had helped.
However, as they descended towards Brad’s house, Billy spotted bodies lying on and near the road leading to it, as well as two abandoned SUVs and half a dozen motorcycles. He hadn’t seen that when he had used the PA system to tell them he was coming to rescue them, but they had been on the other side of the house and almost level with it as they crested the hill. He held his breath and hoped that none of the bodies belonged to his friends. His dad must have seen them too because he said, “Don’t worry, Billy. Those look like the bodies of zombies, or maybe looters.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Billy said and realized that he was probably right. At least he didn’t recognize any of the bodies. He hoped that his friends would explain it all to him in a few minutes. Now they were dropping down to land on a wide section of the road next to Brad’s house, right in the middle of the bodies that Billy didn’t recognize. As soon as the skids hit the ground Billy moved towards the door, but Mark held him back.
“Wait a moment, Billy,
” he said. “Let us secure the LZ first.”
Billy didn’t like it, but he nodded, realizing there were a lot of things in the world now that he wouldn’t like. Mark and the sergeant major jumped out of opposite sides of the helicopter and scanned their surroundings with weapons at the ready. Scott removed his flight helmet and stepped out to join them, while Mick remained seated in the pilot seat. The Coast Guard Dolphin circled overhead. Two of the Marines could be seen pointing their rifles out one of the doors, with a Coast Guardsman manning an M-60 machine gun in the other open door.
It was a beautiful afternoon with the sun setting behind Point Dume. Billy was sure that it would have been peaceful and quiet if the helicopters weren’t there. But he saw no signs of life in Brad’s house behind the gated walls in front of them. So Billy asked Mick to use the PA system again. Mick nodded and activated the mic.
“Hey guys! It’s me, Billy. Are you there? We can’t wait here all day. I told you I would come to get you. Are you coming with us? Fucking A Team! Let’s go!”
A moment later the front door of the house opened and a man stepped out holding a young woman in front of him with one hand and what looked like a Mini Uzi or Tech 9 submachine gun in the other. Billy didn’t recognize him, but he thought that the girl was Amanda Steinbeck. There was at least one more armed man standing behind them with a rifle pointed towards the helicopter. The man in front made gestures indicating he wanted them to shut down the helicopter so they could talk. Billy saw his dad kneel and aim his weapon, as did Mark and Sergeant Major O’Hara, but thankfully they didn’t fire.
“They’re holding your friends hostage!” Scott yelled back towards Billy. “They must be looters or outlaws! What do you want us to do?”
Billy decided that this was his moment to act like a man and save his friends. He used the PA to say, “You there! Stop! Put down your guns and let her go! Right now! We brought the Coast Guard and the U.S. Marines with us. And there are more where these came from. Let all of my friends go now and we won’t kill you. If you make any hostile move, or try to hold them hostage, you will die. Decide now!” Billy hoped he sounded tough and confident, even though his sphincter had tightened and he almost pissed his pants. But the man with the Uzi shook his head and started to raise the gun to Amanda’s head.
At that moment a bullet from Sergeant Major O’Hara’s carbine entered the bastard’s forehead and his dead body fell back into his companion. The machine pistol discharged a long burst harmlessly into the air. Amanda fell forward, unharmed, and scrambled against the wall next to the door. Smart girl, thought Billy. Then another few bullet wounds blossomed in the neck area of the slumping gunman, passing through to hit the armed man he had fallen into. Billy froze in shock for at least two seconds, until he saw his father turn and motion him to continue talking.
“I warned you,” Billy resumed. “Now if there are any more of you in there holding the rest of my friends, I strongly suggest that you let them leave the house right now. We have already saved one of ours and shot two of you. We can keep doing this all day, or until the zombies arrive. And by then you won’t have any gates, or walls, or doors to keep them out. You have ten seconds to decide. Then we’ll blow up the gate and land more Marines to storm the house.”
Billy paused, but saw his dad smile and gesture for him to continue talking, so he said, “Amanda, this is Billy Allen, we won’t leave you here. How many others are they holding in there? Hold up your fingers.” She was clearly terrified, but she raised five fingers of one hand and three fingers on the other. “Okay, assholes!” Billy continued. “I want to see eight of my friends walk out that door right now! Let them go and we let you keep the house and everything in it. Resist or hurt them and it’s game over. Understand? We’re not cops. We don’t take prisoners. And we don’t negotiate with terrorists. But we keep our word. So it’s your choice. Obey, or die! By the way, your ten seconds are up.”
Billy had seen his father changing out the grenade loaded in his M-203. He knew that it could fire anything from giant shotgun shells to tear gas, flares, and high explosives. He didn’t know which one his dad had loaded this time, but he nodded when his father looked back at him. Scott aimed and fired at the brick post of the gate to the driveway. It exploded into rubble and that side of the gate fell down.
“The next one goes inside the house!” Billy said over the PA. Then he looked back to his dad and shook his head to indicate he meant it as a bluff. Scott smiled, nodded, and loaded another grenade. Oh shit! Billy thought. But then there was movement in the door to the house. He recognized Brad Thomas and Miles Turner. They were followed by Shawn and Bruce Smith, the brothers with guns from PCH. Behind them came three girls that Billy didn’t recognize, and a moment later he saw Alex Armstrong backing out the door with his hands up. “Okay,” said Billy. “You’re getting smarter. Just let them go and we’ll leave you alone. Nobody else has to get hurt here. You’ll even have time to repair the gate before dark. Just let them walk away. Take it easy and everything will be alright.”
Amanda ran to join the rest of her friends as they all moved down the driveway towards the helicopter. Someone closed the front door to the house. Moments later Billy’s friends were climbing into the helicopter and Scott, Mark and O’Hara were back as well. Just before getting into the chopper, Scott leaned into the passenger compartment and asked, “What happened here?”
Brad said, “The bastards shot David and Paul. They came last night, must have seen the lights from our generator, and they took us by surprise. We shot some of them out front, but the rest got over the wall in back and took us prisoner. They wanted to take over the house and everything in it. You’d have to ask the girls about the rest.”
“That’s what I thought,” Scott said. He turned and fired a well aimed grenade at the house. It went through a window and a burst of smoke obscured the interior. “Tear gas,” he answered the unasked question in Billy’s eyes. “I’d do more, but you gave your word. At least that should keep them from shooting at us as we fly away.” Then Scott jumped into the copilot’s seat and Mick took off under full power.
The Dolphin and Super Huey swooped down the hillside and out over the ocean next to Malibu Pier. Mick circled once around the Top Gun, which had just arrived. As it turned out, the boat was not needed, but the gasoline it consumed was well worth the insurance it had provided in case one of the helicopters had run into trouble, or there were more people to rescue than could have fit into them. After signaling an all clear to the Top Gun, the helicopters turned back down the coast towards Santa Monica. Most of the houses that lined the beach were abandoned, but Scott spotted a few people waving from the balconies of several of the expensive homes, and there was occasional movement along PCH too. In one case Scott saw an SUV making its way north, with several zombies running after it. Farther down the road he spotted a group of motorcyclists. Some of them were riding double, with the passengers wielding pistols, shotguns and what looked like swords or machetes to deal with zombie attacks. Scott could see that motorcycles would be one of the only ways to get through the massive traffic jams, but he shivered to think what it would be like to face a group of fast moving zombies while doing so.
Since Malibu had been his home for more than a decade, Scott knew that he would be coming back again, if only to salvage some of his family’s belongings from their own beach side compound. Now that he saw that some residents and refugees were still alive here, and that the zombie infestation was not too thick, he decided to try to do more, if possible. In fact, Malibu might be one of the best places to establish a mainland safe haven in this region. It only had a population of 15,000 people before the outbreak and many of the beach houses were probably empty at the time, since a lot of them were second homes for celebrities who would not have been able to get here through the traffic jams. Furthermore, Malibu was separated from the rest of Los Angeles by the Santa Monica Mountains, which zombies were unlikely to climb over, with a couple of easily defended mountainous
canyons, and only the narrow ribbon of PHC providing sea level access for zombies from up or down the coast. The road block set up near Topanga Canyon might even have prevented most zombies from getting into Malibu from Santa Monica or West LA, at least in the first stages of the outbreak.
Scott thought about it as they flew back towards the ship. And it might actually be possible to wipe out the zombies in a large part of Malibu and establish a safe haven several miles long using the mountains, canyons, and ocean as a natural defensive line, with only minimal fortifications at the choke points. It was an idea worth further consideration, but a problem to tackle another day. For now, he simply wanted to get everyone back to the Sovereign Spirit safely for a good meal and some much needed rest.
*****
Interlude in Hell
Dockweiler State Beach, El Segundo, 3:05 PM, April 6
Carl had almost lost control of the Suburban when two helicopters swooped low overhead and banked inland towards LAX. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he concentrated on staying on the road and cutting down the zombies in front of him. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed that the undead crowd from the RV park was still following him as fast as they could.
“Where the hell did they come from?” asked Gus, pointing at the helicopters, although he couldn’t have expected Carl to know the answer.
“Who knows?” Carl replied. “I’m glad to see that there are still other normal people out there, but those are some lucky bastards. It looked like they were in a hurry to get someplace too. Whatever they’re up to, I wish them luck if they can save any lives.”
“We’re the ones who need luck,” Gus said. “There’s an army of zombies following us.”
“Not for long,” Carl said with a smile. At the next beach access point he turned towards the ocean and took the Suburban off-road, through a narrow green belt, and onto the beach. He made sure that the transmission was set for 4 wheel drive and accelerated towards the surf. Gus let out a grunt, possibly of fear, and gave Carl a questioning look.
01 Voyage of the Dead Page 27
