“Little help here! I have a survivor.” He then noticed both her legs were at unnatural angles, “She’s going to need medical attention.” The pain in his ankle shot up his leg and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming in pain. “Make that two people need medical attention. I’m injured as well. I think I broke my ankle.”
The team moved into action after dragging him off the stairway. Andersen looked at his ankle and Popov checked out the woman as the team checked out the rest of the basement. An unfinished room the size of a closet held a bed and small side table. A toilet next to a washer and dryer sat in the open, just outside the room. I guess granny was an inconvenience to the family. “Let’s get everyone out of here, we’re burning daylight.” Barnes shouted as he pulled his radio from his body armor. “Troop 21, Troop 21 Delta.”
“Go ahead, Delta.”
“Bringing out one survivor and have one injured. Call for a meat wagon. We’ll be up there soon, Delta out.”
Russo lay next to the old woman in the driveway as they waited for the ambulance. She opened her eyes and started screaming about the light. He tore off his glove and covered her face. “Take it easy, ma'am, you’ve been in the dark for a few days, your eyes will need to adjust to the light. Just rest for now, you’re safe. Before he’d put his glove over her face he’d missed the fact that her eyes were fully dilated.
Barnes sat and took a sip of water. He glanced at his watch and saw the entire adventure had taken less than twenty minutes. Then he noticed the Stryker that had been clearing the house across the street was three houses down the street already.
“SSgt Barnes, while you were clearing the house, we had updates. Command post reminds us to limit the damage as much as we can. They recommend we enter by garage door when possible to go faster and avoid damage. The best update is that at 1800 there’s a beer and steak bust. Sounds pretty damn nice, huh?” Wetzel asked.
“Everyone on me!” Barnes waited a minute. “Reminder from above, don’t break things. At 1800, there’s a barbeque with steak and beer. The Army’s already three houses to our one, we’re splitting into two teams to clear the next house. Be safe, move fast, get ‘er done! Now let’s move it!”
“General Peters, things are looking good. Barring any unforeseen problems, I’d estimate at this rate, mission complete by 1700.” Col Lee seemed to beam as he gave his estimate. “We’ve recovered four survivors, put down sixty infected and incurred two injured and three wounded by friendly fire.”
“Looking good. Col Lee, I was just wondering, since there’s no armed infected combined with the sizes of the houses, wouldn’t it be faster and safer to use five man teams instead of ten man teams? I’m just asking, my experience is in the air, not clearing houses from unarmed infected.” Lee looked like he’d just been spit on.
“That’s a good idea Sir; let me run it through my more experienced ground combat experts for their input.” Lee beat a hasty retreat, making an NCO who was in his way spill his soda. Peters smiled as he got an idea and then looked around the room for SSG Werner. He made eye contact with him and the SSG made his way across the room. He informed Werner of his plans and told him to make it happen in the next hour. Werner was concerned about the plan, but smiled as he made his way to the door.
“Come back when you have an authorization. I can’t just let anyone waltz into my motor pool and take a vehicle whenever they want one.” The SFC replied to the SSG who was obviously up to no good.
“Clear the shit out of your ears, SFC. I’m under verbal orders from my new boss, MG Peters, to get a light truck to transport him wherever he wants. I’m not going to go back to him and say the nasty fat fobbit won’t let me have a truck. I’ll be back in ten minutes, oh and I’ll need a two-star placard on a blue background. If you think I’m just an oxygen thief wasting your time, you’ll know for sure in ten minutes.”
Werner walked over to the mobile dining facility in a good mood, Anytime he was able to take down a self-important oxygen thief had to be a good day. He went to the back of the facility and caught the NCOIC who he’d talked with before. He explained his mission and the SFC was more than happy to help out, asking only that the general stop by some time to acknowledge his people’s contributions to morale.
He checked his watch and saw it was exactly ten minutes. A young Specialist was waiting at the motor pool with a Joint Light Tactical Vehicle (JLTV) two seater. The pickup truck was a truck on armored steroids, just what he needed. The Specialist had a clipboard and a requisition form for the truck.
“SSG, the truck has a full tank of gas and a commander’s communication unit. You should be able to keep in touch with the entire base. I installed the placards, but the paint is still tacky so please don’t touch the paint. Werner was almost sad the SFC had caved, but decided he had more important things to do. “SSGT, my SFC wanted me to tell you the truck is low miles and doesn’t have as much as a scratch on it.”
“Thanks, Specialist. I’ll treat it like it’s my first new truck.” This ride is nice; maybe I’ll just keep it so it’s available whenever the general needs it. The small crew behind the dining facility was ready for his return. It took four men to load the first container in the back of the truck and barely left room for the second container. Werner waved as he pulled away with his cargo. Let’s see, ten minutes left before the general expects me. Guess I’ll just park in front of the building and cast for salutes. Ha ha ha.
Peters stood in front of the building and suppressed a laugh when he saw the armored pickup truck with two stars coming his way. “Nice ride, were they all out of Sherman Tanks?”
“Sir, if you want, I did see a couple tanks that were still on the tank carriers. I…”
“Just drive, Werner. I want to try and get to every team in the town.” Peters was surprised at the truck’s smooth ride and thought about the crazy airman who had stayed behind at Peterson when they evacuated both times. I bet that kid drives through the gates of the base driving that big ass red truck of his. At least I hope so; he’s the type I’ll need in the future.
“Shit! Looks what’s coming down the road.” The Stryker commander couldn’t believe he was seeing a general anywhere near where there might be any danger. The truck pulled up the same time the team clearing the house came out. The general was definitely out of places from his green flightsuit and brown leather jacket to his blue flight cap with two stars.
“Gentlemen, I wanted to come out here and let you all know I appreciate the job you’re doing. I want you all to think about what you’re doing and how it might be done safer or better. We’ve had three friendly fire casualties and I don’t want to see any more unnecessary injuries if they can be prevented. I’d burn this town to the ground rather than have one casualty, but we need to get decent housing for you all, especially those of you who brought out family. If anyone is thirsty, now that you listened to my speech there’s water and soda in the back of the truck. Does anyone have any questions or comments?”
“Sir, PFC Perez, 10th mountain Division. Why are you out here, when there’s so much to do?” The PFC asked, and then paled when he gave it some thought.
“That’s a damn good question, son. If something has to be done and they can’t get ahold of me by satphone, radio, or runner, I have one hell of a one star I trust to get ‘er done. Second, I really want you guys to know just how much I care about you and the job you’re doing. Third, you may have noticed that I’m Air Force by the suit I’m wearing and this nifty leather jacket. That pegs me as a fobbit in many eyes. I figure if enough of you see me out here; well, that assumption might just be questioned, especially when more blue suiters are incorporated into field units. Next question?”
“Sir, Lance Corporal Patel, Marine. How long do you think it will take to win this war against the Zs?”
“I have no idea. We don’t know if those things will fall over dead or if they’ll have kids and then have our kids end up fighting the next generation of Zs. I wish I had a better answer for yo
u. I have to get moving, you all take care of yourselves and each other.”
Werner turned the corner and found ten Strykers lining the sides of the road. The street was blocked as soldiers cheered as the truck came closer to them. “Looks like you’re a hit, Sir, word spreads fast.” Werner grinned as he parked the truck.
“I guess word spread about the free soda and water. Everyone help yourself. Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted to come out here and let you all know I appreciate the job you’re doing. I want you all to think about what you’re doing and how it can be done safer or better. We’ve had three friendly fire casualties and I don’t want to see anymore unnecessary injuries if they can be prevented. I’d burn this town to the ground rather than have one casualty, but we need to get decent housing for you all, especially those of you who brought out family. Does anyone have any questions or comments?”
“Sir, SSG Dover, 4th Infantry Division. When will we be going after the Zs outside of Wyoming?”
“I’m not going to blow smoke up your skirt, it all depends how long it takes to clear the towns and cities here to form a base for logistics. I want to be able to send food and supplies to communities that we can help. If you’re wondering about Colorado, I miss it too. I do want to get in there and see if we can find more survivors. We have control of our satellites and our number one job now is finding survivors and groups of survivors. Next question?”
“Sir, SSgt Garcia, 60th Air Mobility Wing. Is it true that the major cities are going to be written off?”
“It will take a long time before we can try to clear a city of a hundred thousand people. It will take even longer for a city of over a million. Between logistics and straight out numbers, we may actually have to destroy the major cities, but I want to use every option we have first, though. Thank you all for everything you’re doing. Be safe and please look out for each other out there.” A chorus of HOOAHs followed the general’s departure.
Five hours later, Werner convinced the General they had covered all the units and headed west on the Richards St Bridge. They were continuing towards Douglas Middle School when the driver’s windshield sounded like it hit a bird, then began to form a spider web of cracks. A second later, the windshield in front of the general took a hit and began to spider web. Werner jerked the wheel hard left to turn around, the same time a third shot from an unseen sniper hit the windshield in front of the general.
Peters quickly grabbed the microphone. “Rainbow, Rainbow 6” he radioed.
“Rainbow 6, Rainbow, go ahead.”
“We are taking sniper fire from a school complex on the west side of the river. We are on Richards Street.” Werner listened to Peters call in the report and could not detect any emotion. Damn, you’d think he was reporting the weather, Iceman.
Above them a pair of Apaches gunships rumbled by spraying the truck with brass as they opened up on the school. Unseen, another pair of Apaches from the North began their own firing runs on the buildings, quickly going through all their ammo.
“Damn. I think we either have a guardian angel, or someone’s keeping an eye on you, Sir.”
“Rainbow 6, Rainbow. Report status please.”
“Rainbow 6 is heading for the ranch. No further assistance required. Do not divert any ground assets to assist. Rainbow 6 out.”
“Think that shooter is hamburger? The school is flat. Good thing they weren't any good. You can see the grooves on the engine hood where the shots hit before ricocheting into the windshield. That had to be a .50 the shooter was using.”
Peters listened, but only had one thought; Damn, I really need to pee after that!
“Take Fourth Street north. If we hit anything, there’ll be friendlies nearby if needed.” Peters ordered. Those are some pretty messed up windows. Ahead, both sides of Fourth Street were packed with Strykers. The sidewalks were equally filled with teams of soldiers, a spontaneous chorus of HOOAHs arose as the damaged truck passed by the troops.
What is this now? Peters could see the crowds standing outside of the buildings and tents, waiting to see him and his truck. “Sir, I think they expect a speech about beating the Grim Reaper and returning victorious.” Werner laughed as the general got out of the truck and easily jumped in the cargo bed of the truck.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you have been brought out here on false pretenses. I was not the target of a sniper. I was an innocent bystander of an enraged husband that wanted revenge on my driver for something that happened to coincide with his enlisting and leaving home. It’s a funny story, really. You should get him to tell it to you one day when he has time. Please excuse me now. I need to see that everything’s still a go for this evening’s barbeque.” Werner looked up at him in shock as those in the crowds turned to him. “Come along, SSG Werner, no time for your fans now. Maybe later.”
The command post remained a hive of activity. The operation was shutting down ahead of time and there was general satisfaction. There was light banter about the barbeque and the attempt on the general’s life.
“General Davis, it looks like the operation was a huge success. Congratulations are in order for everybody. Was logistics able to get everything for our little victory celebration this evening?”
“Sir, our logistics people came across both a dairy farm and a poultry farm that appear far enough away from any of the towns nearby to be safe from Zs. We also were able to get civilian crews in to oversea both farms, so it looks like we’ll have dairy, eggs, and meat covered for the menu. We just need to work on grains, fruits, and vegetables. I think we need a dedicated team to search warehouses, distribution centers, and other sources to find food and any other supplies they come across. Even now, I’m sure there must produce just waiting for us to come pick it up.”
“I’ve made sure the satellite teams monitoring the town tonight make a special effort to track anyone we missed to where we can do a final clearing tomorrow. Then we can start trying to get civilians back into their houses and billeting troops with families into houses as well. Then get the single troops taken care of. Perhaps have a rotating standby or alert force of thirty percent ready to go at any time. We’ll have to look into that.
For now, let’s go welcome home the troops, and see that they are fed properly.” Peters headed for the door with Davis close behind Most of the staff followed as well, not wanting to miss out on a good meal and their first beer since things kicked off.
Capt Conrad figured he was number 200 in line for the evening meal. He was enjoying the banter and overall upswing in mood of both the civilians and the troops and especially his release for good behavior from the field hospital. He’d laughed when he heard someone say, “How bad can things be if they’re serving up steak and then beer?” The news that there were no fatalities on the day’s operation and a final tally of thirty survivors rescued was just icing on the cake. The mission had brought many hope.
Unfortunately, he was unable to shake off a feeling of melancholy. His career was at a zenith, but he thought of all those who were lost, ironically a kid he barely knew would not get out of his brain. The teams were returning from town and the staff opened up a new line for them, that only made him feel the operation was turning out all right. At the end of the convoy, a huge old bright red pickup had entered the parking area as well. I know that truck. The driver that got out was wearing civvies, but from his stance, age, and build, he was definitely military. To hell with the food, it’ll still be here. He couldn’t ignore the pain in his leg as he walked as fast as he could to the truck. The driver didn’t notice him as he dug in the back of his cargo bed.
“You know, that’s two missing movements you’re guilty of now, Airman. Have you come to turn yourself in, son?” Caleb turned around and smiled, before surprising both of them by giving Conrad a hug.
“I think I know a little bit more about how Gulliver felt in his travels. Only my adventure is just beginning, I think.” Caleb looked around, then reached up to remove his wraparounds when a loud squeal distracted him.
The microphone’s feedback caught Peters by surprise as he looked out at the mixed crowd of civilians, Army, and Air Force looking up at him. “Survivors. That is what we call ourselves at this time. I want you to instead, think of yourselves as Americans or patriots. The times we face are dark, the journey ahead long. Today we have stopped retreating and running from those who own the night. We have already started our offensive to liberate the City of Douglas. After that, we will begin the liberation of Converse County, and then, the State of Wyoming. That will then be the time we begin the campaign to restore the United States of America.
Every man woman and child, yes, even every child is needed. Every one of you, civilian, soldier, and airman, will be needed to achieve victory. Whether you work in a power plant, a mine, or a farm is equally as important as those pulling the trigger on our foe.
The days ahead will be long, the work will be hard, but every man, woman, and child will be safe with a roof over their head, food in their belly and a reason to get up every morning. A world that starts today.”
Epilogue
Major General William Peters didn’t like the surprises that were coming his way. The war against the infected seemed like the least of his problems. Sanity and common sense had not survived the dark night. Groups everywhere were rising up in their desperate belief that the infected were part of the apocalypse and should be protected and worshiped. Almost a thousand different antigovernment groups wanted to start a new world order, no two that would agree with another. Isolated groups wanted help in the form of supplies and protection.
Gangs had formed that only lived for the moment, destroying or taking what they want. He had to find the answers and solutions that could not be found from satellite imagery and radio intercepts; he needed human intelligence from his own trusted scouts.
Zombie Airman Page 28
