Lobato raced up another flight and stopped when he felt the stairway under his feet start to vibrate. He went to the edge of the stairs and looked down the open section to the bottom. What he saw made his bowels shake. Zombies were coming up the stairs and moving faster than he had ever seen before.
“Starchild, we have gomers on the stairs coming up fast. We are going to need to get out of here! Over,” Lobato took off up the stairs taking them two to three at a time in effort to catch up to his charges. He would meet them on the roof and somehow secure the door at the top, so they could get onboard and safely out of there.
“We are coming back over the roof now, Homer is at the ramp. Over.”
“Roger all. Over,” Lobato spat out through heavy pants for air as he ran. He had a fear roiling up in him that they would not make it. This was the first time he had seen zombies up close. He and his crew had not had to deal with the dead before, except from high above their heads.
Lobato, reached the top landing and saw the light coming in from the open door as little faces screamed down at him and pointing. He could now hear the slap of feet behind him. “How the fuck do these things move this fast?” he screamed inside his head.
The kids jumped back as Lobato pushed outside and kicked the door closed behind him. The door was made of a wood frame and thin metal covering, but not very thick or sturdy. It was assaulted by the weight of at least four of those rotten things. He moved an inch back as his feet slid in the gravel. He turned his head back in time to see the Seshat’s lowered ramp touch the lip of the roof. Homer was there tugging on children and flinging them into the compartment behind him. Danielle finally stepped onto the ramp as Homer jumped down and came to Lobato’s side.
“Need some help Chief?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Get back on the Seshat, I am not going to be able to hold this door long and it’s better if only one of us dies here today,” he gritted his teeth as he doubled his effort leaning his shoulder into the door and finding grip somehow.
“No way brother, you are part of our crew, we leave no one behind,” he reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out his great granddaddy’s trusty Colt Army model 1860 long barrel and thrust it into the opening of the door. He fanned the hammer back and pulled the trigger six times emptying the .44 caliber cylinder. He must have hit something as the weight of the door slightly changed and both men were able to close the door. It latched, and they took the brief respite to sprint toward the Seshat’s lowered ramp. They leaped out and landed on the ramp just as the door splintered into pieces that flew across the roof and embedded themselves into the interior of the Osprey as well as the left calf leg of Lobato. Hundreds of zombies disgorged onto the roof and as one the zombies moved quickly to the open ramp of the Seshat.
“Starchild go!” both men screamed out.
Starchild’s hands danced over her controls and increased her throttle advancing the rotors forward to give her inertia. She turned head and screamed back down the fuselage. “Homer! I need you up here now!”
Homer gained his feet and took off running down the middle of his craft and past, crying and sobbing children. He didn’t have time to try and comfort them. He slid into his seat and quickly looked over the controls and made the corrections Starchild needed in order to the get the Seshat away from the roof.
Lobato crawled his way up the ramp using the tips of his fingers to secure himself from falling as the Seshat quickly maneuvered. His legs swung back and forth, and he grimaced at the strain on his arms and fingers. If it had been just his regular weight of one hundred and eighty he would’ve lasted longer, but he had his rifle loadout, vest, pack, and camelback full of water. It was then he felt something grab his leg, it had an iron-like vise grip on him. The fingers dug deep into his pants and skin underneath, Lobato knew the next thing he was going to feel would be teeth clamping down on his skin. He twisted his head around and could see a woman zombie, her bloody, dirt encrusted hair flying around her head in the wind created by the powerful Osprey engines. The added weight of the zombie was tiring Lobato faster and faster as his energy reserves depleted quickly. He thought about letting go of the ramp with one hand to reach his .38 special and dispatch the zombie, but he had no doubt he would not be able to hold on with the one. He went through scenario after scenario and could not come up with a viable solution. He was about to let go, to take him and the zombie away from the Seshat and children on board, when a loud boom followed by another went off above his head. The weight slackened from his legs and then disappeared altogether as the zombie fell away.
Danielle stood over Lobato, arms extended, a Glock in her hands pointed down and behind him. She looked down and gave Lobato a wink, before she pocketed the gun and dropped to her knees, grabbing onto to his wrists and putting her hundred and twenty-four pounds into helping him up into the Seshat. Lobato gained his knees under him and pushed up one final time falling, to the deck of the Osprey panting and sweating from the effort and fear. The ramp motored closed behind him as he gasped in a fresh lungful of air. A bunch of little hands touched his shoulders and back. Lobato slowly raised his head and looked into a little blonde girl’s big blue eyes, with tears glittering in the corners like diamonds in the sun.
“Hi there sweetie,” He moved to his knees and looked around at the little ones surrounding him. “Anyone need a hug? Because I surely need one.”
The little blonde girl moved forward, wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. Lobato tried not to choke up and failed as he wrapped her in his arms and embraced her, slowly. Little arms and hands wrapped themselves around his body as the children piled on with their hugs and love. Lobato looked around to find Danielle and had to swallow many times before he could talk without trembling and shaking in his voice.
“Thank you.”
Danielle beamed down at him. “Couldn’t let the guy who saved us all go out like that,” she moved forward to the man covered with kids hugging him. “Okay children, take a seat. Chief Lobato has work to do.”
The children broke their hugs and climbed up onto the bench seats. Lobato got to his feet and took in a deep breath. He made his way to Danielle and lifted her off her feet and into a tight hug. She closed her eyes and hugged him back. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring up at her. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his, he closed his eyes and kissed her back. They stayed that way for a moment or two before a voice shouted back at them.
“Crew Chief, when you are done sucking face, we could really use you up front!” shouted Homer from his co-pilot seat.
Lobato gave Danielle one last kiss, placed her back on her feet, and dashed up to the cockpit. “What’s going on”
“We have a slight dilemma,” Starchild pointed to their fuel status. “We don’t have enough to hang out and collect Sasquatch. We need a plan.”
“First thing we need to do is call the team and let them know of the situation. Maybe they have a plan,” Lobato shrugged.
Starchild switched channels on her radio and called down. “Sasquatch you still alive? Over.”
This is my Big Baby
I had been creeping along inside the motor pool’s garage, when my ear piece came to life with Starchild’s voice. “Wait one,” I called back. I needed to clear this garage before giving Starchild my attention. I came to the last corner and lit it up with my LED flashlight. All seemed clear and I hit the button on my radio. “Go ahead Star…” right then I was tackled by a zombie, as it came out from behind a bus that was in pieces as if someone had been working on it.
I landed on my back, my hand and arm pinned to the radio, my fingers pushing down on the PTT button keeping the radio channel open. My free hand was wrapped around the zombie’s throat, the thick grey skin firmly in my grip, keeping the broken and cracked teeth inches from my face. I strained to push it back, this fucker was much stronger than the others I had faced. I put that thought aside for future consider
ation. I opened my legs wide and lifted them up, wrapping them around the zombie’s core. I squeezed and flexed my thighs and hips forcing the zombie back. So, there I was with a Zombie between my legs and my hand on its neck, I fucking hoped that no one would come in and find me in this position, yet wished someone would come and pull this damn thing off of me.
The zombie jerked hard forward, bringing its teeth close to my chin, so close that it got a mouthful of whiskers. “Fuck, that hurts, you dirty fucking gutter slut!” I brought my head, up and in anticipation of biting me, the zombie let go of my beard. I smashed my helmeted forehead into the damn things mouth, shattering more of its teeth and cracking its jaw. I brought my head back down, raised my hips, and quickly twisted my body. We rolled, and I ended on top of the zombie, with my left forearm pressing down on its chest. I freed my other arm, letting go of the PTT button, grabbed my Kabar from its sheath on my vest and slammed it home through the zombie’s eye and gave it a vicious twist. The Zombie stopped all motion and finally stilled. I blew out a sigh and collapsed down on my butt.
“Wow.”
I looked to the owner of the voice, to find Kot leaning against the bus, ankles crossed, hands clapping slowly. I gave her the bird and answered the radio. “Sorry Starchild got a little busy. Over.”
“I was wondering who you were calling a gutter slut. Over.”
“It wasn’t you dear. So, what’s up? Over.”
“We have a little issue Sasquatch. We are at bingo fuel for this mission. The area around the garage is looking like a fucking rock concert. Over.”
“Do you have the kids on board? Over.”
“That is a big 10-4 bearded one. Over.”
“Then get the fuck out of here. Over.”
“Can’t we land at the airstrip and fuel up, while you and your team ninja the fuck over to us and get out of here? Over.”
“No fucking way, you have precious cargo. Me and the apes will get out of here somehow. Now get moving, that is an order. Over.”
There was a pregnant pause on the radio, as I figured they were throwing around ideas, before Starchild came back. “Roger the order Sasquatch. We will drop the kids off safely, refuel and head back out to you. Over.”
“You do that. Over and out,” I sat on my ass, thinking about how the fuck we were going to get out of there with all our skins intact.
“Looks like we are going to be hitchhiking back to the Reagan, huh?”
“Yeah Kot, go show some leg and hopefully someone will stop and pick us up,” I stretched my sore muscles, as I got off the concrete and looked around for DP Two. “Where the fuck is that idiot?”
“Last I saw him, he was heading to another garage,” Kot looked down at her nails and rolled her eyes. “Damn, I chipped another nail.”
“Yeah, yeah, when we get back to the Reagan we can both have a mani-pedi,” I retrieved my knife and cleaned off the black blood and gore using a red mechanics rag off the nearest shelf.
“Hey Sasquatch, this is DP Two. Over,” my radio squawked.
“Was just wondering where your ass went. Over.”
“You need to see this sir. Over.”
I motioned for Kot to follow. “Roger kid, are you in the next garage bay? Over.”
“Affirmative. Over.”
Kot and I worked as a good team checking all around us, as we moved through the outside parking lot and to the next garage. The door was open and DP Two waved us over. Once inside, I stopped in my tracks when an older short heavyset man stepped out from behind a tool bench. At first, I thought he was a zombie and snapped my SCAR up to my shoulder, with my finger on the trigger.
“If you shoot me Major, you are not going to be invited to get out of here on my Zombielator,” the man drawled through an East Texas accent.
I took my finger off the trigger and lowered my SCAR to its sling. “Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck is a Zombielator?”
The man limped over to me, dragging his left leg. He extended his hand to me and smiled. “I am Staff Sergeant Moonie Mullen Air Force Reserves, Sir. Everyone just calls me Moonie though. When those ass hats hit the base, I was taking a snooze in the cab of a truck.” I shook his hand and saluted the man. He gave me a half-hearted salute in return.
“Nice to meet you Sergeant, now answer my question. What the fuck is a Zombielator?”
The Sergeant motioned for us to follow him as DP Two secured the door and caught up. We walked to the back of the garage and into another bay. In the middle sat a green camouflaged behemoth of a truck. I stared at the truck and noticed a gigantic metal V shaped cow catcher bolted and welded to the front. The truck was one I had never seen before though. It had eight large off-road wheels on it. That was two more than I was used to on trucks.
“That is a wicked toy, there Moonie.”
“This is my Big Baby, and she is a beast! Let me give you the particulars. She is an Oshkosh M1070 Heavy Equipment Transport HET 8x8 with front and rear steering, and under that hood is a five hundred horse power turbo charged Detroit diesel powerplant. Driving her is a five speed Alison automatic transmission, two speed rear axles and two 55000-pound winches. Nothing else out there is as bad ass as she is. She will roll over those fucking stink bags and leave nothing but a big ole red smear behind her. She will push any vehicle or obstacle out of her way. Oh, and that five hundred horse power that she came with has been worked on, by yours truly to produce north of eight hundred. She might not be wickedly fast, but she will deliver a shit ton of destruction in her wake,” Moonie patted the plow with his open hand.
I looked Moonie’s Big Baby over and had a little bout of nostalgia rip through me. Cupcake and his beast was his baby and it had been our savior for a while. “Moonie, what do I have to do to buy six tickets on your Baby?”
Moonie cleaned his hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket. “There is a problem Major, I can only fit three others in the cab with me. The rest of you will have to ride on that little flatbed I welded on.”
“Well that is gonna suck,” I ran my gloved hands through my long beard.
“I do have an idea though, it calls on some help from you and your people.”
“Hit me Moonie, what can we do for you?”
Moonie limped away to a curtain separating a section of a wall and pulled it back. Behind it was ammo containers and three large pieces of equipment. “I have a hundred thousand rounds of 7.62, three M134 mini guns, one MK19 40mm belt fed grenade launcher, and a bunch of grenades in all flavors. The problem is that I need help getting these things bolted down on the Big Baby. I couldn’t do it myself.”
I stood there staring at all the fun toys, deep in thought. “How long will it take with us three helping out?”
“Five hours or so.”
I turned around and used my radio to call out to Nunzio. “Yo! Nunzio, what’s your status? Over.”
“Standing in the bowling alley, thinking of playing a couple of frames. Over.”
“You do that, I am sure the zombies won’t mind all the ruckus. Do you think you and DP One can get your asses over here to the motor pool? We have a way out, but need some help. Over.”
“I’ll get back to you. Over.”
I snorted and shook my head, and then remembered that Dead Eye was still out there somewhere, and he was being quiet. “Dead Eye, where is your little ass at? Over.”
“Uhm, I’m running right now. Sir, there are a couple of assholes that think I’m what’s for dinner. I can see the motor pool and should be able to make it in a couple of minutes, if you can send someone out the northwest corner to cover my ass. Over.” Dead Eye huffed between heavy panting.
I looked over to Kot and she gave me a thumbs-up as she turned and ran out of the garage. “Kot is on her way out to meet you. Over.”
I turned my attention back to Moonie. “Okay, direct DP Two on what he needs to hump and where to.”
Moonie and DP Two got together and discussed the placement of the weapons. I moved over to a window a
nd dug into my pack. I rooted through my loaded magazines, MREs, and assorted medical supplies stopping, when my hand hit a large plastic object. I pulled it out and looked over the satellite phone, pondering whether to call Dan and give him the news of Julie, or to wait till I got back on the Reagan, and do it in person. The military side of me won out, and I powered the phone on and pulled the antennae up. I punched in the number, I had memorized, and waited through the beeps and clicks before the phone rang on the other side. It was answered on the second ring.
“Navy One, report. Over.”
I took a dep breath. “Put Eagle on the line, authenticate Bravo, two, two, Alpha. Over.”
“Good to hear from you Major, Eagle has been waiting on your call. One moment as I transfer your call. Over,” the woman’s voice came across tinny over the line.
I concentrated on a drying splotch of blood on the toe of my right boot and at first didn’t hear the voice as it came on the line.
“Brian, you there? Hello?”
I snapped my head up and concentrated on the here and now again. “Eagle, I have a status update. Over,” my voice came out softer than my normal tone.
“If your voice is of any indication, I take you have bad news? Is Julie dead?” The last part of that sentence came out as a whisper.
I closed my eyes and blew out my breath through pursed lips. It had gone stale, I had been holding my breath. “No indication she is dead, no body found, but I found a dying tablet with a message saying she and your dad were being taken. I let you down brother, I am sorry. Over,” I hung my head in defeat.
The silence on the other end of the phone was so long that I wasn’t sure I still an active line, until I heard a quiet sob. “I will make Ridder and the Initiative pay for this. Go find her Brian, that is your new mission. Don’t bother coming back if you don’t have her,” the phone clicked as he hung up on me.
Zombie Theorem: Dark Times Book Five Page 11
