“Oh, shit.” The Ranger’s had paused, but were staying fifty meters outside the harbor. Behind them were another line of cars, all winding their way in.
Lance returned from the fire-teams clearing the cars with his goggles raised.
“We’re becoming a beacon for any fleeing civilians. We aren’t going to be able to hold many more here.” Dan sucked in the brisk night-time air. The next convoy of vehicles was being followed and harassed by the stooped, hunched shapes. The creatures didn’t seem too disturbed by the dozen or so bodies that the Rangers had dropped the first time round.
Dan considered the situation quickly. “We need to move them back to Peterson. Do you think we should escort them or simply direct them on the way?”
Lance paused and considered the options for a moment.
“We can’t do much while moving. We’re better staying here and acting as a break-clean point between the vehicles and their hangers-on. The road should be clear if they can follow it and, so long as they stay buttoned-up and rolling, they should get to the gates of the Air Force Base without issue.”
Dan nodded. He was having to choose the least-bad option out of a whole lot of suck. At least keep it simple. This was what it was like being in a grunt officer – everything is either bad, terrible or getting worse. Stick with the bad and just take comfort knowing that you were, relatively speaking, better off than someone else. Only thing was, Dan thought, he was running out of thoughts as to how he or his men could be in a worse situation than this.
Dan had trouble locating his squad commanders in the night-time confusion. He found the 1st and 2nd squad leaders together on the perimeter, and gave them quick instructions to clear out the vehicles inside the position, and to keep the others rolling through. We don’t want them to stop here – tell them they need to head South and try and get onto Peterson Road. Tell them that the road is already cleared for traffic from our move in, and as long as they keep moving they will be safe.
The Rangers were holding their positions forward, and had formed a rough line through which the inbound cars drove through. Because they were on the edge of clear visibility offered by the humvee headlights they were making good use of their NVG. The ghouls, not realizing the threat, closed right up to the Rangers while trying to smash open the civilian car windows, only to met by single, well aimed shots to their centre of mass. Lance estimated that they had downed over 40 of the things so far, but they just kept coming.
Behind the Rangers the soldiers were having trouble getting any cars heading out. There was yelling and Dan heard the bonnet of one vehicle getting slapped.
“Move out, move out!” someone was screaming.
Dan stepped back into the centre of the harbor and saw first-hand the friction inherent in a situation involving danger. It was a simple job to drive out of the harbor and head to Peterson AFB, but the drivers and their passengers were freezing up. They had just left behind the horrors of a twisted, devilish suburban nightmare and thought they were safely under the protection of the army. They did not want to leave.
One of Dan’s soldiers was gesturing wildly by the driver’s side door of the van. Behind them a horn started blaring and screams started to build on top of the yelling. The vehicles waiting to enter their position were now halted, and they didn’t like it. Over the top of the Ranger’s suppressed fire Dan could hear a vehicle windshield shatter. Not good, not good. Some doors could be heard opening as a few vehicle occupants tried to make the last hundred meters to the soldier’s position on foot. Dan wasn’t sure what was going on, but the platoon’s worth of soldiers and Rangers were losing control of the situation.
***
The hunched, aggressive shapes had been harassing the vehicles as they moved in. Now the cars were stopped in front of them their makeshift missiles and clubs started to become effective. A handful of gravel thrown into a windscreen scattered away, barely chipping the glass, but another figure swung a fence picket immediately afterwards which caved the glass in. The figure jumped back, emitting a low howl, leaving the picket jammed into the tapestry of the collapsed windscreen. The passengers inside couldn’t see past the glare of vehicle head-lights and the remnants of the windscreen and they made the worst possible decision – they opened the doors and tried to sprint the last 150 meters.
Dan could hear all hell breaking loose from the far end of the line of parked, waiting vehicles. Up until now there had been minimal yelling from the soldiers and it had been the sound of disciplined, controlled communications being passed over the noise of idling engines. The yelling he heard now was panicked, high pitched screaming and the sickening, alarming and pained cries of people in agony. The Rangers left their line and surged forward, firing on the move, trying to close their distance to the line of panicked refugees. A pair of soldiers from the perimeter moved forward to help them, and had barely made it 10 meters before they both halted and started firing outwards. The combination of gunfire and the pained screaming from the halted convoy blocked out the possibility of any commands or messages being relayed.
Dan stared, equals parts terrified and transfixed. From the back of the parked vehicles a red station wagon lurched into view, the engine screaming as it revved high in a low gear. The windscreen smashed and caved in, and the occupants were impossible to identify. A female soldier next to Dan had her rifle raised and was yelling something – a challenge, Dan guessed – as the car swerved side-to-side as it barreled in their direction. Most of the soldiers on the perimeter were now firing out into the darkness as a handful of vehicle passengers finished their sprint to safety on foot. They were the lucky ones, with the pursuing figures around them falling to the bullets of Dan’s squads. Despite the constant gunfire of the Rangers, Dan could tell, judging by the screams, that many were not making it.
The car swerved again as it neared them and the soldier fired her weapon once, twice, and then a third and fourth time. Her fire was aimed at the engine but Dan couldn’t see any visible effect. Seconds later the car seemed to pick up speed then suddenly break while violently slewing to the left, collecting into the rear right of one of the humvees in 1st Squad’s location. The humvee lurched and the soldier standing in the turret, aiming outwards with his M4, was thrown hard against the cupola before sliding back inside the vehicle, injured, hidden from view. The noise of the crash only added to the chaos, and the smashed car’s engine continued to spin over, emitting a strong smell of burning and a white cloud of smoke into the air that reflected the headlights around them.
Dan had his M4 raised to his shoulder as he saw both Rangers and soldiers peel around the crashed car back into the perimeter. There was now firing all along that side of the harbor as both sprinting humans, bent over in fear and breathlessness and the aggressive ghouls, crouching and surging forward, dragging down and viciously smashing at the faces of those they could grab. It was hard for the soldiers to identify threats from the refugees. They were now engaging their enemy at less than 10 meters at a rapid rate. Their fire started to slacken as they neared the end of their magazines.
Without proper pouches and webbing they had to dive into pockets to find their next mag for reload which was costing them precious, invaluable and irreplaceable seconds.
Dan moved forward, M4 raised, looking down his iron-sights to cover one of the soldiers who had dropped to his knee as he tried to find a fresh mag in his trouser pocket. Dan’s muzzle swept left to right, his mind prioritizing and reprioritizing the sights and sounds into threats and targets. He fixed for a second on a figure to his half-left; it crumbled into the ground, shot by a soldier off to his flank, and his rifle recommenced scanning to the right.
Four figures were rushing at him. The first stared him in the eye – a panicked woman, maybe thirty, stumbled past him and into the hasty position. The second figure had its face covered with a cap and Dan briefly placed his sights onto it. Then the capped figure was almost on top of him, and then it moved passed him, brushing past his left arm – another
refugee. The final figure was only three meters away and Dan could almost reach out and touch it with the end of his rifle. It surged towards Dan and paused for the briefest instance, barely a yard away from him. For a split-second he saw a sickening, bloodied set of teeth and snarled gums topped by glazed, bloodshot eyes before Dan’s world erupted into a blinding flash. His muzzle lifted upwards and the creature’s face distorted and crumpled. He had fired from reflex alone, and his mind was still racing at incomprehensible pace when he heard one of his squad commanders screaming a simple command.
“Mount up, mount up!”
Dan half-turned to his left and realized that the perimeter was breached. Behind him surged both refugees racing in and a mass of soldiers trying to clear their way back out, in a basic skirmish line. Dan turned back to his front and saw movement – suspicious movement – darting across his line of sight. He fired two rounds instinctively but knew he’d missed. He hadn’t trained with iron sights in years, and he wasn’t even aiming properly. He needed to sort his shit out.
“Mount up, mount –” Screams drowned out the continued command. Dan himself started screaming “Mount up!” as he bolted for his wagon behind him. He hadn’t consciously thought about it – it was just that something had to be done. They were overwhelmed on the ground, and the chaos of civilians running around them had taken away their initiative. The surge of figures, both innocent and threats, was too much for his thinly-manned perimeter to handle. They could try and regain control of the situation from inside their vehicles, or they could move. They had options once mounted – options they didn’t have when they were standing in the open. Dan was at his vehicle in a matter of seconds and yanked at the rear right door. Fredericks was in the driver’s seat, yelling to someone immediately out his window. Dan pulled the door shut behind him as he slid in.
Beyond Fredericks he could see a young soldier, his light grey ACU body armor almost glowing in the light, struggle with his rifle. He was inserting a fresh mag while shadows blurred past him when Dan saw what Fredericks was indicating. The soldier didn’t notice the figure closing from his flank and was collected around the forehead by a large, sweeping blow and he staggered backwards. A second fist, holding what looked like a rock, hammered a second time, sickeningly splitting open his nose in a torrent of blood. The soldier collapsed just as his finger found the trigger on the fresh mag. His M4 emptied on full auto into the ground, then the rounds blasted outwards as the soldier’s arms jerked upwards. He was only three meters from their humvee as he spun sideways, the M4 sweeping past their vehicle. Dan heard the 5.56 rounds emit a sharp, metallic crack as they smashed through the soft-skin walls of their hummer as he reflexively recoiled and ducked his head. The driver’s seat window cascaded away in a loud crash of glass. As suddenly as the cascade of rounds had started, the pummeling of the vehicle ended and Dan’s ears were left ringing in the aftermath.
Shit, shit, shit. Over the high pitched ringing in his ears he could hear a new noise - a smashing that reverberated from his other side, from the left. Dan felt the window a few inches away from him buckle but withstand the object that had been hurtled at it. A bloodied and distorted face appeared suddenly on the bonnet. Shit, they’re around us. He felt the vehicle rock back and forth, and saw some movement outside Frederick’s smashed window, and it looked like a hand was sweeping around the frame.
“Drive, drive!” The engine was on. All Fredericks needed to do was put the thing into gear and they could leave this nightmare. “DRIVE GOD-DAMN YOU!” Dan reached across the Hummer and slapped Fredericks around the helmet. His head sagged, and blood a small waterfall of blood poured from his nose and mouth as his body slumped forward in the seat. Dan stared for an instant. One of the bullets that had smashed into the vehicle must have ended its path in Frederick’s neck or head. The battering recommenced on the window next to him. Dan kicked himself away from the left hand side of the vehicle and scrambled onto the centre vehicle-gunners position. The battering on the window continued, and he saw the distorted face press against the windscreen again. Dan slipped the safety of his M4 off and put a round through the windscreen, right where the face had appeared. He didn’t pause to see if his fire had any effect as he stood up and reached for the top hatch. He fought the clips and he briefly struggled with the hinged roof. Then the adrenaline kicked in, and he flipped the top open in a sudden, violent and panicked motion. The window next to him was thin and unarmored and only just withstanding the battering, and he figured he didn’t have the cab to himself for long. Dan lifted himself up, struggled with his rifle briefly as it was caught against the ledge and then pulled himself clear. He was now on the roof of the hummer and had a small tactical advantage – some high ground. He had to scramble awkwardly on all fours around the turret, as he slammed the hatch back down on the figures beneath him.
Dan stood up, M4 in his shoulder at the ready. He saw two figures alongside one of the hummer windows, still battering at it underneath him. He dropped them quickly with a double-tap to each, exploding their skulls apart as the bullets ripped into them. Dan didn’t stop to watch them fall but turned to take in the scene around him. There were figures hunched over, lurching and swaying over the top of crumpled bodies, some of which were camouflaged and others wearing what would have been civilian clothes. The creatures were pulverizing the remains, but that wasn’t what stuck in Dan’s mind. Their position had been over-run. Dan flicked his M4 to full auto and fired bursts at the shadows to his immediate front, and then paused.
The civilian vehicles were abandoned, doors open and bodies scattered around them. Only a few of the humvees were moving, each in a different direction, while the remaining soldiers tried to get a bearing on the situation. One humvee slowed next to a running girl, a civilian, and the door opened. She was pulled inside. At least we’ve saved one of the locals, Dan thought, as gunfire continued to crack intermittently around him. He stood up straight so he could reach a replacement magazine from his cargo pocket. He hit the release button on the magazine well of the M4, letting the ejected mag clatter against the top of the vehicle as it fell away underneath him. The new magazine was rammed home as another hummer turned in front of him, casting it’s headlights over his raised figure and silhouetting him.
He had to shield his gaze from the brightness, and when he had regained some of his night vision he realized that it had halted directly next to his vehicle, the wheel’s crushing the bodies of the ghouls he had dropped moments ago. The turret gunner was facing away from him, firing single shots into the frenzied scene of bodies and assailants. His firing was controlled and precise, and Dan realized he was using his night vision goggles and an IR aiming device. Rangers. One of the doors nearest him cracked open, enough for Lance to lean his head out and scream for him to get on board. Dan felt like he was in a haze as he improvised a foot-hold on his vehicle’s side-mirror before he half-swung, half-jumped onto the neighboring hummer. This position he was now in was precarious – he was holding himself on the back of the turret, with his feet pressed against the sloped boot. The gunner continued to fire the occasional shot but his silencer took away the shock-wave of the rounds and Dan was able to get some of his bearings back, despite being only a meter away from the muzzle blast. He readjusted his position so he was crouching on the roof. So long as the turret mount wasn’t rotated he could hold on. The shooter in the turret briefly turned and gave him a thumbs up.
As the vehicle started to move, Dan could see another two hummers waiting on the edge of the athletic field, both with gunners standing in the turrets, firing inwards. It was over, he realized. They were retreating.
CHAPTER FOUR
After driving to the edge of the athletic field the Hummer halted and Dan was able to find a spare seat inside the cab. He was bitterly exhausted and the moment he sat down he felt his eyes grow heavy as the adrenaline started to ease out of his system. Lance had turned to him from the front of the vehicle and told him that he didn’t have comms with the hummers t
hat had driven out – heading back South, in direction of Peterson Base. At least four hummers hadn’t moved as part of the withdrawal. His platoon had been hit hard, and the survivors – however few there were – had scattered. Only the four vehicles belonging to the Rangers had rallied together, helped by the fact that they could talk to each other through their radios. They hadn’t come through unscathed, though. Dan knew that they had taken their own casualties. When he dismounted into the back-seat, he saw a prone figure in the Ranger’s jungle multicams being desperately attended to by another Ranger in one of the humvees.
We’re going to head directly east and try and link up with a call-sign called Iron Knights on the main drag of Colorado Springs. They’re the only ones whose radio traffic is making any sense right now, and we should be able to wind our way there via the smaller streets. If that doesn’t work we’ll divert to Carson, where we should be in a better position to go back on the offensive than if we get stuck in Peterson again.
Lance’s words didn’t really register. Dan felt like shutting his eyes and hiding from this mad, crazed world. The Rangers weren’t messing around though. They were going to do everything, and they were going to keep doing everything, for as long as it was needed.
Dan had shut his eyes and tried to steady his thoughts. He felt dazed and blank, and was unable to feel any emotion through the haze of shock that had set in. Lance had stared at him from the front seat for a few seconds longer.
Listen, you did well. Out there... that was just carnage. The platoon held up well. They did their job, better than anyone could have expected. Without ammo and without comms it was impossible, OK? You’ve done well, you did everything you could, just hold tight back there for now.
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