Only the Dead Live Forever

by W. J. Lundy

  “Stay quiet. If we start a fight, we have no place to fall back to,” Sean whispered.

  When they returned to the pad, they silently dropped their packs and laid flat on the deck, trying to hide. They could see through the drainage slots in the decking to the walkway below. The primals were still moving slowly along the path, presumably following the leader that had been pounding on the lounge door. The rains were still soaking everything, but the primals seemed unaffected by the downpour. When they made it to the landing they stopped and appeared to contemplate climbing the stairs. The primals stirred back and forth as they decided on a path. The leader lashed out at another member of the pack with a screech, and they moved on towards the storage deck.

  When it was again clear, the three men stacked back up and moved down the stairs. At the landing, they quickly checked for signs of the pack and thankfully found none. The primals seemed to have moved on beyond the storage deck. The team quickly rounded the landing, headed down the final steps, and back to the lounge. They moved past the double doors and waited. Sean tapped a pre-arranged code at the steel door and waited for a response from inside. Brad had moved past the entrance and was covering forward, while Brooks was still looking through his rifle back toward the stairs to the landing pad.

  Brad stepped away from the wall and turned to look back at Sean. Sean was visibly frustrated, tapping at the door in the code and waiting for the officers to unlock it. He paused, and hearing no response, tapped again. Brad shook his head, then turned back to the front … and gasped in shock.

  He found himself face to face with one of the largest primals he had ever seen. Before Brad could raise his rifle to fire, the primal lunged at him. The impact of the thing and the weight of his pack threw Brad hard to the ground.

  They landed awkwardly on the deck. Brad fell crunched against his large rucksack in a half sitting position, with the primal grabbing at his clothes. Brad grabbed its neck; pushing it away with his right gloved hand, he buried his thumb into the soft tissue of its chin while his fingers gripped its throat. His free left hand was battling with the primal for wrist control as he wrapped his legs around the creature and tried to pull it tightly into his guard; locking his legs, he then held on for dear life.

  At the sound of the commotion, Sean turned. Afraid to fire a shot and risk hitting Brad, he leapt past them and threw himself onto the back of the creature, placing it into a strong rear choke hold. Sean had the choke in deep and was pushing the thing’s head forward for all he was worth. With the down and forward pressure relieved from him, Brad was able to dig a heel in to the creature as he maintained control of the primal’s left arm. He rolled hard and pulled himself into a sloppy arm bar. Not waiting for a tap, he applied maximum pressure and felt the elbow joint break and dislocate.

  Without the strength of both arms, the primal fell flat on its face with Sean still securely on its back, its last good arm wildly flailing. Brooks grabbed Brad by the straps at the top of his pack and pulled him away from the beast. With the tight choke applied, the primal was unable to scream or moan. Sean applied more and more pressure but the creature failed to die. Finally, Sean crushed its wind pipe and rolled hard; the creature’s neck made an audible crack as its spine was broken. Sean held tight as the primal’s body stiffened violently, then went slack.

  Sean slowly released his grip from the primal and rolled away from it. He looked down and saw that its eyes were still following him with a hateful glare. Even with its windpipe crushed and its neck and spine snapped, the primal still was looking to fight. Brooks pulled a small suppressed MKII pistol from his pack and placed it against the creature’s head, then fired a single shot.

  Suddenly the door opened and Captain Bradley looked out. “What the hell are you guys doing out here making all of that noise?” He stopped and looked down at the dead primal, and both Brad and Sean still sitting on the deck. “Oh! Well hey, come on guys, get back inside before more of them come.”

  5.

  The men hurried into the room, the Captain quickly locking the doors behind them. Shivering from the cold and soaked to the bone, they began stripping off their uniforms.

  “Err, ah, excuse me! There is a lady present,” Swanson snarled.

  “Oh, please feel free to wait outside while we avoid hypothermia,” Sean barked back.

  Swanson had no reply and instead pulled a heavy chair and turned it so that it faced the wall, then sat down. Mr. Douglas stepped forward and retrieved the wet uniforms from the floor and started hanging them to dry, while Captain Bradley handed the men some folded linens that he had found in a cabinet. The room was still dimly lit by the emergency lighting and the winds were howling outside.

  “When will this damn rain end?” Brad said, mostly to himself while wrapping a sheet around his naked body.

  “What? This rain won’t be over for a while, few days maybe … That’s a tropical cyclone out there, and just the beginning of it. They were predicting a Category 3 at least. That’s why the squids were prepping the tender to get us the hell out of here,” Swanson answered, still facing the wall.

  Captain Bradley rolled his eyes and looked her way “Bullshit! Cyclone? Colonel Cloud didn’t say anything about a cyclone when he briefed me on our exfiltration plan.”

  “Of course he didn’t … once we delivered Aziz, we weren’t his concern anymore. So when was the tender supposed to leave? Where did it go?” Brooks said.

  “I’m not sure. I know the sailors were anxious to get out ahead of the storm. I already told you PAK-PETRO’s been moving survivors from the other rigs to here over the last couple days. We were just waiting on the word to get going … but then the attack … I don’t know what happened. Maybe they’re still down there waiting for us; we need to get down to the dock level!”

  “Don’t worry about it. The tender is gone. All I saw in the water were Pakistani boats,” Sean said as he fell onto the end of a sofa.

  “So what now then?” asked Mr. Douglas.

  “Now I say we need to clear this damn building. I’m not spending another night in here not knowing what’s up on that third deck,” Sean said.

  “How do you plan to do that?” asked Mr. Douglas.

  “Well, I figured I’d take a quick break; then we’ll go out that there hallway and up those stairs and kill everything that doesn’t look friendly,” Sean said, pointing at the doors leading from the lounge and into the building.

  “What the hell? Are you serious?” Swanson argued.

  “I’m not willing to just sit here until we starve … From my last count, Brooks, Brad, and I are the only ones with any gear or food. We’re cut off from the supplies on the deck, and our current position is occupied. Unless anyone has any better ideas, everybody be prepared to assault through this building in two hours, and I mean everybody!” Sean gritted, looking in the direction of the two officers.

  “Excuse me Chief, but we aren’t trained for this,” Mr. Douglas said, stepping forward.

  “Doesn’t matter anymore; we’re all in this together now. We’re all going to pull our weight until we get out of here. Swanson, tell me more about the platform, how many were on board?” Sean asked.

  Captain Bradley got to his feet and took a step towards Sean, holding his hand up towards Swanson. “Hold up Chief, I know you are not happy, but rushing to decisions and pushing us forward isn’t going to solve anything right now.”

  Completely ignoring the Captain’s words, Sean said, “Sir, with all due respect, the next time I knock on a door you better move your ass and answer it! You almost got Brad and I killed out there while you took your sweet ass time unlocking that door. Consider this fair warning. I suggest you ready your weapons; we will be taking this building back in two hours. Now Swanson, what do we know about the platform?”

  Captain Bradley moved back to his seat and sat heavily without saying a word. Swanson looked around the room, but realizing there would be no support if she continued the argument, she began to explain what she
knew to Sean.

  “Well, this is the housing and business block; it used to house the trades guys, pipe fitters, welders, rough necks, stuff like that. We moved all of the military in here. There were only about fifty of us in total. There are three floors; first two are offices, and the top floor is housing cells. Twelve rooms and an open lounge. The helipad is on the roof.”

  “Food? Water?”

  “Yeah, there’s a stocked galley upstairs, but the water is off until we get the lights back on.”

  “And next door?” Sean questioned.

  “The next building over is the controls unit. It houses the radio tower and most of the switches for the platform’s equipment. The far corner facility is the power station; it has generators and such. That’s where I worked. We kept the power plant running and it must be abandoned now. I’m sure that’s why the lights are out,” Swanson finished.

  “Can you get the power back on?”

  “Yeah sure, easy, I’m sure the tanks just ran dry. I’ll just need some help switching over the barrels … this place has plenty of fuel on hand,” Swanson said.

  “What’s below us?” Sean asked.

  “That’s the industrial deck. We didn’t go down there much, since PAK-PETROL was in charge of that space. They’ve been housing all of their people there. The very bottom deck was where they were loading and offloading crews from the ships.”

  “Okay, clear as mud then. Alright everyone, get your gear together. Be ready to move out in two hours,” Sean said as he started to break down his MP5 for another round of cleaning.

  Brad leaned back in his chair. He was extremely frustrated and sore from his battle on the deck with the primal. He had no interest in Sean’s plan to clear the building, yet he understood completely the importance of the mission. If they were going to survive, they would have to regain their ground. He wouldn’t argue the decision. Brad knew it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t the easiest.

  He dug through his bag, pulled out a fresh set of MultiCams and got dressed. He grabbed his rifle and inspected it. He hadn’t fired it in a few days, but still he removed the bolt and oiled all of its components. He checked and double-checked his magazines. He still had close to a combat load’s worth of ammo, and there were still hundreds of rounds in his rucksack. Grabbing his vest, he made sure everything was secure and then placed his last fresh set of batteries into his night vision goggles.

  Once Brad was confident he would be ready for the coming mission, he leaned his head back deep into the chair and pulled his patrol cap over his eyes.

  6.

  When he opened his eyes, Brad saw Sean trying to look through the glass of the doors leading into the hallway. Brooks was standing behind him, readying his weapons and attaching gear to his chest harness. Swanson was leaning over her boots, tucking in the laces; her M4 was sitting beside her. Both officers were also up digging through their small flight bags.

  Even though Brad was far from his normal routine, he still followed a mental checklist when he prepped for a mission. He went through his checklist, physically touching each item. He tightened all of his loose straps and checked to make sure his spare magazines were loaded and snapped in place. His fighting knife was hanging just below his left shoulder, with the handle down. A tourniquet was on his right shoulder, a first aid pouch on his belt. He wore his M9 on his hip, and the holster held two spare magazines.

  Brad finished his prep work, drank down an entire bottle of water (never knowing when the next chance to hydrate would come), then relieved himself into the empty bottle and tossed it into a trash can. He was ready to go, so he made his way to Sean and Brooks and leaned against the wall. Sean pulled four small cardboard boxes of 5.56 NATO rounds from his backpack and tossed them to Swanson.

  “Load these up, Corporal; you may need them,” Sean said.

  He then turned and faced the group. “We’re going to move out in two groups. Brooks, Brad, and I will push forward on the assault team. I want you three to wait until we make the first landing, then move in behind us as support. I want separation in the teams. Only one team at a time on a floor or in a ladder well. We will assault forward; you three will lag back and be prepared to reinforce us if we need to fall back in a hurry or get blocked. Corporal, you are in charge of the support team. Any questions?”

  “So we’re supposed to just stand around in the hallway and wait for you to do something?” Mr. Douglas asked.

  “Sir, I would recommend you get into defensive positions at every stop. Odds are, if we fall back, we’ll be moving in a hurry. Just please try very hard not to shoot us,” Sean answered.

  Captain Bradley moved towards the door and unholstered his M9. “Okay Chief, let’s get this over with.”

  Sean looked at Brooks and signaled for him to move out. Brooks slowly opened the door, clearing everything in his vision as it slowly revealed the interior of the hallway. Brad moved forward and took a position inside the hallway and on the left wall. Brooks moved a step ahead and took the right wall, with Sean holding the center of the hallway.

  With the door now fully open and the light of the lounge bleeding into the hall, they knelt down and listened for any movement. The hallway was as they had left it, covered with trash and bodies and stinking of death. The assault team moved forward and stacked up on the first office door. Swanson’s support team stepped to the lounge’s doorframe and took a knee to watch Sean’s team work.

  Even though the first floor offices had been cleared the day before, they were cautious and had decided beforehand that they would do a one hundred percent sweep of everything. The assault group would clear the room and push forward, while the support team would occupy their previous position to make sure nothing got past them. Slowly they cleared the first floor and stacked on the ladder well at the end of the hall.

  Brooks cracked a chemical light and dropped it at the base of the stairs. None of the support team wore night vision, and he didn’t want them to get spooked and pop off a round in the dark. Brooks waited for Sean and Brad to stack behind him. A single tap on his shoulder indicated they were ready, so he crept up the dark stairs. His night vision goggles painted the space a creepy digital green. He paused often to listen for movement, but all he could hear was the creaking of the metal structure and the storm blowing outside.

  He reached the top and looked down the long, dark corridor. It looked the same as they had left it; the dismembered Marine still lay in the center of the hallway. The stack of primal bodies was still piled in front of the open office door. He slowly led them forward, trying to be quiet, although their boots slipped and squeaked on the sticky, blood-covered floor; occasionally they kicked spent brass and heard the clinking of metal on metal.

  Again they cleared the rooms. The trio made it past the point where they had found Swanson. They moved to the end of the hall and stacked on the door leading up to the unknown third floor. They held up and waited, hearing the rustling of the support team moving up the stairs and taking positions at the far end of the hallway. Brad turned to look at them, barely making out their facial expressions in the hue of the night vision goggles.

  He could see the silhouettes of Swanson and Mr. Douglas as the two of them peeked out and down the hallway toward him. The captain must have held back to cover their six. He watched Swanson take a step out of the ladder well and take a knee with her M4 held at the ready, while Mr. Douglas stood at a crouch just over her shoulder.

  Brad felt the pat coming from Sean to his front and knew it was time to move again. He tapped Sean back to indicate he was ready, and they moved forward to the doors leading to the third floor. Brad watched Brooks reach for the handle of the door. Unlike the others, this one was in a locked position but it had been bashed in, twisted at its hinges, allowing one of the sections to be forced inward off of its frame. There was an imploded gap where the creatures had breached the doorway, and the metal edges were covered with ripped pieces of clothing and skin.

  Brooks wrapped hi
s gloved fingers over the edge of the door and applied pressure to open it. The door started to screech as the twisted steel pieces pulled against each other. He immediately stopped and stepped back. He moved back to Sean and whispered, “The door is completely jammed up. I can open it, but it’s going to be loud.”

  “Okay. We’ll rip it open, but use the rope and give us some standoff distance,” Sean whispered back.

  Brooks reached into his butt pack and pulled out a length of heavy corded rope. He lashed it around the handle of the door, then they backtracked down the hall, letting the length of the rope out behind them as they went. They stopped just in front of the support team. Sean and Brad took a knee on opposite sides of the hall and aimed the IR lasers of their weapons at the battered doors. Sean nodded to Brooks to pull the rope.

  Brooks yanked the rope and the door let out a wailing screech of twisted sheet metal, but the door didn’t give. He pulled again, making a lot of noise but no better results. Without instruction, Bradley moved forward from the ladder well and grabbed a section of the rope from Brooks. Together they strained and pulled, the door screeching all the more. Brad watched as the door began to give under the weight of the rope, but the handle section buckled and the rope sprang free.

  Brooks shook his head and pulled the rope back towards him, coiling it as he reeled it in. “Hold position and cover me, I’ll tie it back on,” Brooks whispered. Sean nodded his acknowledgement and Brooks started to slowly make his way back to the door. Only two steps into the walk they heard a crash coming from the third deck’s ladder well. Brooks froze in place, dropping the rope and readying his weapon. Then they heard the first of many moans …