Once again she experienced a sensation she couldn’t quite place. Some kind of low intensity, low pressure vibration.
She heard glass crunching below as her old boss traversed the concourse to the lip of the missing window where he stood swaying precariously above the tarmac below.
Taryn put her face under the water cooler spigot and drained a few precious ounces into her mouth.
Suddenly a whining jackhammer-like sound reached her ears. She crawled back to her perch and watched the creatures being chopped to pieces. With no idea who was wielding the noisy invisible scythe, she flattened her body and pressed her cheek to the floor in order to see the far end of the runway. To her amazement the noiseless black helicopter had returned and was just touching down. She didn’t want this diversion to slip through her hands—she collected her iPhone and solar panel then stashed the pistol in her pocket.
***
The sustained buzzsaw sounding bursts of the mini-gun decimated the walkers nearest the airport.
Hicks swept the fire across the Zs, cutting some in half and rendering many more of them headless.
“Get some,” Lopez cried.
Only crawlers and a handful of walking Zs moved on the body part-littered killing field below.
“Save some for the south end,” Ari said.
Hicks eased back on the trigger as Ari brought the helo around, and once the Ghost Hawk had regained a steady hover he sent the last of the 7.62 mm rounds chewing into the Zs near the broken fence.
A few seconds later the mini-gun went silent save for its whining electric servo.
“Winchester,” Hicks said as he released the trigger, fully silencing the smoking weapon.
“Going in,” Ari warned.
Cade’s stomach lurched as the helo dropped like a stone. The wheels locked into place and Jedi One-One kissed the earth with a slight bounce.
“Go, go, go,” Durant hollered.
Time slowed down for Cade and his vision sharpened as he followed Hicks out the door. He flicked off the safety and bringing the SCAR to bear started dropping walkers. A cordite haze formed and shell casings skittered across the tarmac. Sensing Lopez form up next to him, he looked over to confirm Tice and Maddox were out of the bird. Confident the team had the perimeter around the helo covered, he turned and emptied his mag into the nearest walkers, quickly reloaded and resumed death dealing.
Hicks retrieved the fuel nozzle which was lying on the tarmac where he had left it only hours ago. With rotors whirring feet above his head and gunfire echoing all around him, he began filling the chopper’s tank.
“Maddox, watch your six,” Durant bellowed over the comms.
Whipping his head around, time slowed further as Cade witnessed the attack. Maddox, with a dozen dead littering the ground around him, was changing mags when the creatures bowled him over. And without uttering a sound the operator rose to his knees and plunged his combat knife into the bloated Z’s temple. Dead arms still gripping his legs, he pulled his pistol and struggled to stand.
Tice pivoted and dropped the two Zs approaching from Maddox’s left but his reaction proved to be too little too late as the man disappeared under the carrion pile.
“Fuckers!” Lopez shouted as he emptied his magazine into the writhing creatures.
***
Holding herself to her own word, Taryn left solitary confinement and taking the steps two at a time made it to the concourse. She looked past her coffee stand towards the far revolving doors. A handful of walkers including Porkpie stood in her way. Choosing the path of least resistance she turned and ran towards Dickless and brought the black revolver up. The trigger proved much harder to pull than she thought it would be. Likewise, the discharge was exponentially louder than the ones on television. Unscathed, Dickless turned towards her, a hissing sound escaping his dried lips.
This time, anticipating the report, she closed her eyes before pulling the trigger. The .38 boomed. The hollow point struck Dickless center mass on the breastbone sending him sprawling into the bank of plastic and fabric built-in seats.
At a full sprint Taryn went to the ground and slid through the broken glass. She grabbed the edge of the window a second before shooting out into space. Then she looked down to the jet way. A twelve foot drop awaited and at the moment the place she would land was free of walking dead things. She bravely dangled her bare legs into the void and lowered herself over the edge, and as she hung by her tiring fingertips all she could think about were the monsters eyeing her lower extremities.
Let go.
Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate.
She heard gunfire ringing out behind her and then a hissing sound started above her. It took her boss’s frigid hand groping her arm to make her finally release her grip.
From the tips of her toes to the tarmac the drop was roughly seven feet—more than enough to send her knees into her solar plexus when she hit. As she lay helpless and struggling to breathe on the oil spattered tarmac, Dickless stuck his head through the opening.
Back flat to the ground, Taryn extended both arms holding the pistol steady. She aligned the front sight on the monster’s forehead and slowly squeezed the trigger.
Bang.
Dickless slumped as the bullet tore into his eye socket, shredding his brain.
Taryn struggled to her feet, took a couple of deep breaths, and picked her way through the killing fields heading towards the helicopter.
***
“Get in,” Durant’s voice said over the comms.
Finished refueling, Hicks put the nozzle down and jumped into the black helo.
Tice emptied his magazine into the Zs, dumped it to the ground, and then replaced it on the run.
Cade sensed the rotor speed picking up. Shell casings pushed by the down blast rolled away from the helicopter.
Going to a knee just outside of the open door, Lopez covered Tice’s retreat. He fired into the approaching ranks screaming at the top of his lungs, “Die demonios.”
Ari’s voice came over the comms. “Wheels up.”
“We can’t leave without his body,” Cade bellowed as he waved Lopez inside.
“We have no choice,” Ari said as he began to pull pitch.
Reluctantly Cade took an offered hand and boarded the Ghost Hawk seconds before the wheels separated from the asphalt.
Ari took the helo to twenty feet, spun around ninety degrees, and said incredulously over the comms, “Looks like we have one survivor, center of the runway, twelve o’clock.”
Cade was fixated on the scene playing out below the helicopter as the remaining zombies attacked Maddox’s corpse, their clawlike hands tearing into his flesh and plunging under his body armor. Inexplicably the dead Delta operator’s tactical helmet popped off, landing upside down and coming to rest on the still attached night vision goggles. The rotor wash blasted in the cabin and Cade looked away as the helo bolted forward.
***
Waving her arms and jumping up and down Taryn began to cry. Standing in the middle of a sea of pulped corpses she had never felt more alive.
She recoiled against the blowing wind as the helicopter hummed overhead, its black outline blotting the blue morning sky. A man wearing a bulky helmet, his eyes concealed behind a dark visor, reached down and easily hauled her into the craft. Before the door closed she found herself thoroughly scrutinized for bites and under interrogation.
***
A half hour into the solemn flight from Grand Junction to Schriever, Lopez piped up. Speaking to nobody in particular he said, “Besides me... Maddox was the last member of Mike’s team. This is a hard one to wrap my brain around. Never, and I mean never did I think we would lose this many of our own in so short a time.” He took a deep breath and continued to gaze down at the parched desert earth rushing by. “One whole team lost in the White House. More men at the CDC. Desantos... and now Maddox. He was a good man.”
A booming chorus of “Hooahs” filled the cabin.
Lopez went on, “I w
ant to die just like him.”
All eyes, including Taryn’s, swept to the operator.
Looking stonily at anyone who would maintain eye contact, Lopez said slowly, “Maddox went out silent—like a true warrior. He didn’t whimper. There was no wailing for madre. He took it to them like a man and he died like a man. When we get back I’m going to build a memorial to him near Mike’s grave.”
No witty comeback from Tice. Instead he put an arm around Lopez’s shoulder. The gesture was received unconditionally.
Lopez hunched over shielding his face. His shoulders shook as deep mournful sobs filled the air.
Robert Christian wriggled up into a sitting position, eyes darting to his hands which had turned a deep shade of purple.
“Down,” Cade yelled. He held nothing back as he kicked the waste of skin in the teeth.
“Five mikes,” Durant said. Then, craning his head and looking down on the crisscrossing streets added, “Looks like General Gaines’s 10th Special Forces boys are mopping up downtown.”
Ari slowed the Ghost Hawk and put her into an orbit a thousand feet above downtown Springs.
Looking out the window and noticing that there were far fewer creatures roaming the streets, Cade agreed with Durant, saying, “I wouldn’t wish that job on anyone. Kicking doors even when you know there’s a Z behind every one... takes a goliath set of balls.” He removed his flight helmet and donned his tactical helmet, letting the chin strap dangle.
“You look like shit,” Lopez yelled.
“I feel worse than I look,” Cade conceded.
As Ari brought the ship in low and slow over the western fence a number of faces turned their way; mechanics looked up, shielding their eyes from the sun, and more than a few salutes were thrown heavenward.
On final approach, fifty feet above the landing pad, Cade looked out over the base. Standing out in stark contrast against the dark muddy ground, a mound of pale white corpses caught his gaze. He said a silent prayer to his God hoping Brook and Raven were not amongst them.
Jedi One-One settled onto the tarmac and not a second later Cade had yanked Robert Christian to his feet. As he ushered the withered man out the door ahead of him he looked over his shoulder and motioned for Lopez to tag along. Instinctively ducking his head under the slowing rotor blades, he prodded Christian along in front of him with the butt of his rifle.
Stopping in front of the dented yellow door outside of Whipper’s office, Cade forced his prisoner to sit on the hard ground and said to Lopez, “I want you to personally escort that girl to quarantine and make sure they keep her a few hours extra. The last thing we need is another outbreak inside the wire.”
“Yes sir, anything else sir.”
“Yes Sergeant, as a matter of fact there is. Good job out there. I’m going to talk to General Gaines and get you a promotion.”
“Thank you sir,” Lopez said quietly.
“And I’m really sorry about Maddox. Didn’t need to happen,” Cade said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I know you two went way back—ran a lot of ops together. Spilled more blood together. He will be missed.”
Lopez removed his helmet and raked his fingers through his close cut black hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose keeping his eyes cast down.
Cade couldn’t tell if the man was going to cry or not. Didn’t matter. He waited a moment then said, “After you get the girl squared away, why don’t you go get a bottle of something strong—pour yourself some—and then spill a little for Desantos and Maddox.”
“Hooah sir.”
Cade hauled Christian off the ground, making sure to wrench his rotator cuff, just so, causing the delicate aristocrat a well-earned dose of pain. Then he whispered in the prisoner’s ear, “It’s time to trade you in. The President’s men have been waiting very patiently to make your acquaintance.”
Robert Christian’s eyebrows shot up as he realized what was in store for him. Nothing but unintelligible grunts escaped through the dirty gag as he begged and pleaded for his life.
Chapter 49
Outbreak - Day 12
Schriever AFB
Colorado Springs, Colorado
After leaving the would be architect of a failed new world order with some rough men at the Security Pod, Cade trudged past the civilian tent city. His legs seemed to be honed from granite—every step a monumental effort. He didn’t want to go on a fact finding mission. He was afraid of the answer and he hadn’t experienced this profound feeling of dread since coming to Schriever for the first time with Duncan, Daymon and the young stuttering soldier whose name—he was ashamed to admit—he couldn’t remember. He stopped for a tick to watch as a group of people dressed in white hazmat suits filled black rubberized body bags with the corpses of civilians who had assumed—incorrectly as it turned out—that they were safe inside of the wire at Schriever.
Cade noticed one of the space suited workers peel away from the gory task and shuffle in his direction. With every step the nylon space suit made an irritating swishing sound. The figure, whose white suit was smeared with crimson traces of blood, stopped in front of him and removed the hood.
They locked eyes and the worker said in a soft drawl, “My work here is done.”
Cade tried to process the man’s words and come up with a reply but said nothing and nodded instead. He started to turn away but found he couldn’t tear his eyes from the waist high drift of death.
“It was a bloodbath last night. Screaming and gunshots went on for hours. They think they contained all of ‘em. Not before this,” the man said waving his hand at the carnage. He looked Cade in the eye adding, “Wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
The man perched a ball cap on his head, turned abruptly, and walked away whistling a happy tune.
***
Standing in front of the Grayson billet, a strange feeling of deja vu jumped Cade. Though he wanted this to be his last homecoming he feared it wouldn’t be. At least not until the dead stopped walking and the remnants of the Guild were wiped out.
He pushed on the door.
Locked. Good job honey.
He rapped gently.
The door hinged inward and he found himself staring down the gaping barrel of Brook’s M4.
“Looks like Annie got her gun,” he said to break the ice. He had never had a weapon trained on him by his wife and he didn’t know what else to say.
“Just protecting my roost.”
“Where’s Raven?”
Motioning to the top bunk behind her she said, “Still asleep. We had a long night.”
“So I heard,” he said propping his rifle near the door.
Lowering her weapon Brook began to cry. “I’m not mad at you anymore,” she said softly between sobs.
With a tilt of his head he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“This.” She thrust the note at him. “I thought Raven and I were going to die last night. I didn’t want our little girl to die at the hands of one of those things,” she said with the little girl from Fountain Valley still fresh on her mind. “And I didn’t want to die mad at you,” she went on. “I forgot to ask myself—will any of this matter in twenty years. I stopped doing that two weeks ago after I killed my Mom and Dad... when I didn’t even know if I was going to be alive for the next two seconds... let alone twenty years.”
After reading the note, Cade responded in a calm voice, “I did not see this.”
Brook looked at him with red rimmed eyes and said softly, “I know... it was on the floor. But back to basics, what’s the most important thing?”
“Family,” Cade replied as he removed his gore spattered helmet and set it aside. Then he unbuttoned his soiled ACU top and tossed it near the door. He gently folded Brook’s small frame in his arms, gazed deeply into her eyes, and said, “I like coming home like this... it’s much better than the alternative.”
Brook smiled, dabbing away a tear. “One more thing,” she said.
“Yes.”
Eyes brimmin
g with fresh tears she said, “I lost the baby.”
“I’m so sorry honey.” He squeezed her a little closer and closed his eyes briefly, thinking of the little one that could have been.
“Another casualty to add to Pug’s list,” she hissed. Then she put both small hands behind her husband’s sweaty head and pulled his face closer to hers. They exchanged a tender kiss that instantly threatened to evolve into something more.
“Ewww. Get a room!” Raven cried from on high.
“Hi sweetie.”
“Hi Daddy,” Raven said as she bounded down and leaped between Mom and Dad. “I love you guys.”
In full stereo Brook and Cade repeated the same sentiment.
“Sweetie... do you know what day today is?”
“My birthday?” she said slowly.
Brook led a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday which Cade considered the hardest song to sing (in tune) in the world.
“You’re twelve today Raven. Do you know where your mom and I were twelve years ago today?”
“No,” she said as a quizzical look crossed her face.
“At the hospital, silly,” Cade said playfully.
“Do I get a present?”
Cade tousled her head and said, “Since you are too old for a pony we’ll go see the armorer and get you a rifle just your size.”
“That’s my department,” Brook jokingly informed her husband.
“In all seriousness, I have to go find Nash. Before I left for Jackson Hole, she and the President presented me with an offer that I couldn’t refuse. Now I have got to go and collect.”
Raven asked, “When will you be back?”
“Soon Mister Moon.”
***
Schriever Security Pod
Reluctantly Cade relinquished his Glock. Then he unslung the SCAR carbine and handed both weapons to the stoic, stone faced Secret Service agents.
As he made for the inner sanctum, the taller of the two agents said, “Captain Grayson, I have to hold the blade.”
“Understood,” he answered and removed the Gerber and placed it on the counter.
The man silently nodded and reaching past Cade opened the door for him.
A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse Page 32
