by David Spell
“We’re coming in now, over the stadium and it looks like we have some survivors running your way followed by forty Zs. I count three males and a female coming around that dorm building across from the LZ. You should be able to see them now.”
“Roger, Air One. Can you have your gunner take care of the group pursuing? We have another group of fifteen or twenty behind us.”
“Air One clear. Engaging now. Also, be advised now we’re getting low on fuel. I was hoping to get back, land, pick you guys up and get out of here. We need to wrap this up quick. And the gunner says he’s almost out of ammo.”
The four people were running hard towards the bus and the federal police officers. The large group of zombies was only twenty-five yards behind them. The distinctive buzz of the helicopter’s mini-gun cut down at least fifteen of them and then went silent. Running zombies tripped over their fallen comrades and gave the survivors a few extra seconds.
Eddie, Alejandro, and Chris watched the group coming up behind the bus, now only forty yards away.
“Let’s take them out,” said Eddie. Each man’s first shot took out a window and then they started shooting the infected. Four of them managed to get to the bus before being cut down. The last one they shot was a bloody-faced man wearing the dark blue campus police uniform. Grace and Jennifer both knew him and watched with tears pouring down their faces as two bullets exploded his head and sent him sprawling to the asphalt.
The running survivors were less than a hundred yards from the bus. “Ok, guys, let’s help them out,” said Chuck.
Officers began shooting the remaining infected that were pursuing them. Another campus police officer was in this group, a sergeant. Jimmy, Chuck, Andy, and Scotty fired shot after shot into this group from the left side windows of the bus, eventually killing them all.
“Air One to CDC One, good job. The LZ looks clear. How many passengers do we have left?”
McCain turned to Marshall and Jones. “Eddie and Jimmy, go escort those people in. Make sure they aren’t bit.”
“CDC One to Air One. It looks like we’re at sixteen with these four coming in.”
“Roger, we can land and take twelve and get them to the CP at the airport and then we’re going to have to refuel there. It’s going to be a while before we can get back to you. Maybe half an hour.”
“CDC One clear. We’ll let you take the six civilians and the two campus officers. This bus is pretty comfortable. We may just drive out of here. Can you meet us at that same mall after you refuel?”
“Roger, CDC One.”
He turned to Grace and Jennifer. “Your ride’s almost here. You’ll go with Joel and Trent here,” motioning at the two students, “and the four that are coming in now.”
“What about you guys?” Grace asked, the concern in her voice evident.
“There’s not enough room for all of us and the pilot said he’s low on fuel and is going to have to fill it up. We can’t sit here and risk getting surrounded so I think we’re going to take our chances driving out.”
Eddie and Jimmy led the four panting, terrified students onto the bus. “They’re ok, Chuck. They’d been hiding in that dorm since everything broke loose. They saw us and the helicopter and took a chance on trying to get here. Their bad luck that a group of Zs was walking by.”
“Air One to CDC One, we’re putting down now. Can you get those people to the LZ?”
“Roger, they’re on the way.”
Grace was writing something down. She and Jennifer quickly thanked the CDC officers. Grace hugged Eddie and Chuck, kissing both of them on the cheek. She looked into Chuck’s eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry,” and hugged him again. Then they were off, heading for the LZ.
As the Blackhawk touched down, Eddie, Jimmy, Chris, and Alejandro ran with the survivors to make sure they got there safely. Grace paused, as she was about to board the helicopter, hugging Jimmy tightly and slipping something into his hand. Within seconds, they were on their way to safety.
Andy had the bus running and ready to go as the men rushed back from the LZ. As soon as they were onboard, the big vehicle started moving. A large group of infected stepped into roadway ahead of them.
Eddie nudged Jimmy with his elbow at they watched for threats. “What did Grace give you?”
Jimmy smiled brightly. “She gave me one of my empty Glock magazines back and her phone number wrapped around it.”
Marshall held up a fist towards Jones who gave him a fist bump. “That was a lot of work to get a phone number,” said Eddie, “but I have a feeling she’s worth it.”
“Smooth, Jimmy. Very smooth,” said Scotty.
“Take a right at the next street,” Chuck said to Andy. “How’s everybody looking on ammo?”
Five of the officers were down to two full magazines and the one in their rifle. Three of the men only had one extra mag. They had a long way to go and were critically low on ammunition.
Fleming used the bus as a weapon, steering to the right where the group of infected was the thinnest, and mowed down six of them. He turned onto Sanford Drive. Ten more zombies heard the bus and ran out into the street. There was a loud thump as Andy ran over four of them and kept going.
“Which way, Chuck?”
“Left. I’m hoping the further we can get from the stadium, the fewer Zs we will find.”
Andy slowed to turn onto Baldwin Street. At least thirty zombies were standing next to the building on the corner on their left. When the infected saw the bus, they rushed it. The CDC officers saw a door on the far side of this building fly open and several figures in military uniforms rushed out, waving their arms and yelling for the bus to stop.
“Survivors on our left!” Eddie yelled.
Fleming slammed on the brakes. The zombies were behind the bus. A few of them changed direction and went for the survivors. Eddie and Scotty tried to cover the survivors and cut down eight of the infected. The other officers fired out the back windows at the pursuing Zs. Andy put the bus in reverse and backed over several of them. Four men and three women, all wearing green army dress uniforms ran in front of the bus and threw themselves inside the open door.
Another large group came from behind the building the survivors had come out of and charged the bus. Fleming accelerated away.
“So, what’s the army doing at UGA on game day?” Scotty asked casually, as he reloaded his rifle. He only had one extra magazine left.
A tall, slim young man answered, panting, “That was the Army ROTC building back there. We’re on the honor guard and were supposed to be a part of the presentation of the colors and National Anthem. When everything started, we happened to be near an exit. Three of our team didn’t make it. We managed to get out and ran up here to wait it out. Thank God, you came by. Thank you for stopping.”
They saw infected throughout the downtown area of Athens but managed to get through without any problems. As they slowed down to get around several abandoned cars, four young girls and a guy ran out of a drug store behind them and rushed towards the bus. Several zombies were ripping apart and eating three bodies on the sidewalk. They were between the bus and the survivors.
The young people ran into the street, going around the zombies in front of them, trying to get to the safety of the big vehicle. Andy saw them in his rearview mirror and slowed down. The Zs on the sidewalk forgot about their meal and rushed after the survivors. Other infected saw what was happening and joined the chase. The officers could hear the growling of the pursuers.
Fleming stopped the bus but he couldn’t back up because of all the abandoned cars. CDC officers began picking off the infected. One of the escaping girls stumbled and fell. The guy in the group stopped and rushed back to help her. They were both tackled by running zombies. The two young people’s screams would haunt everyone on the bus for a long time to come.
Three girls managed to reach the bus and Andy opened the door for them. They were all crying and fell into seats hugging each other. At least they were alive to mour
n, Fleming thought. He accelerated as more infected charged them.
Chuck guided Andy out of Athens. Soon, they were clear of the downtown area, and for the first time in hours, everyone was able to relax a little. Another ammo check showed that three of them only had the magazine in their rifle and the rest only had one extra. Hopefully, they wouldn’t run into any more Zs.
Georgia Square Mall, Athens, Saturday, 1940 hours
The command post was full of activity. It was in the same location where they had been earlier in the middle of the parking lot. It was full of officers and investigators from multiple agencies. CDC vehicles were parked nearby and their emergency management personnel were onscene helping the police formulate a containment plan. Everyone looked up as the tour bus with “Appalachian State University” rolling across the electronic marquee pulled in.
The big vehicle stopped and the side door opened. Seven young people wearing army uniforms exited, followed by three young, crying girls. They clung to each other and had clearly had a bad day.
McCain, Marshall, and Fleming were the next three off the vehicle. As they walked to the command post, Chief Tom Morgan could see their exhaustion. He heard one of his officers say, “Look at their mag pouches. They’re all empty.”
The rest of the CDC officers climbed down from the bus. A big bearded white man and a slim black man were supporting an injured Hispanic officer. He was holding his right leg up and not putting any weight on it. All of these men were sweaty, dirty, and looked physically spent.
Chief Morgan, a captain from Oconee County, and a lieutenant from Jackson County greeted them. Morgan made the introductions and the men shook hands. Three Georgia Bureau of Investigation officers were also huddled with the Chief. FBI Special Agent Thomas Burns and several other agents were on the scene and gathered around the trunk of his car, poring over a paper map. Burns saw Chuck and walked over.
“What’s with the bus?”
“We needed a ride,” McCain answered. Burns was curious but he sensed this wasn’t the time for answers.
“Is the mall secure?” Chuck asked.
“It is,” Morgan answered. “Oconee and Jackson Counties both sent us some officers and we think we got them all. They killed twenty-eight zombies that were still inside. That included several of our officers who had been infected. We’ve also killed another twelve that people have called in about. Most of those were in this general area. We have no idea how many escaped but we’ve had several attacks in the area so it’ll probably take us a while to get all of them. Can you guys stick around and help us get the stragglers?” the police chief asked.
Chuck stared at the short, fat man for a moment before answering. “No, we’re done. We’ve been fighting non-stop for five hours. We’re almost out of ammo and I have a man hurt. Do you have any idea how bad it is at the university? I’d suggest trying to find out how you can help the campus police, if there are any of them left besides the two we rescued.”
The captain from Oconee asked, “So, how bad is it?”
The three CDC officers looked at each other. How could they describe how bad things were? A stadium of thousands of people fighting for their lives? A student center suddenly turned into a zombie feeding area? Groups of infected chasing students, teachers, and parents down and killing them, tearing them to pieces?
“We managed to rescue close to sixty people, including two campus officers. That’s it. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of infected around the stadium. I’ve requested the National Guard. We’ll come back out if they need us. Good luck, gentlemen.”
As he turned to leave, Burns moved next to Chuck and said quietly, “McCain, I heard. I’m sorry.”
Chuck looked at him and nodded. “Thanks. You can let your people know that al-Razi is dead. That’s one of the only good things that happened today.”
“Air One to CDC One,” his radio crackled, “we are inbound to the mall, ETA five. Confirming the LZ is still secure?”
“10-4, Air One. The CP is in the same location. You’ll see the bus we drove in on. You can put down near there.”
McCain told everyone goodbye. Andy would get Luis to a hospital to have his ankle checked. They would debrief on Monday morning. He walked over to the helicopter to thank the pilots and the crew. They had been the only reason that there had been any success at all today. As he turned to leave, he saw the body bag laying in the back of the helicopter. He stopped and stared.
The team climbed into the Blackhawk and the pilot started the engines. Everybody was onboard except Scotty. He followed Chuck as he slowly turned towards his truck. McCain opened the back door as he started to take off his equipment. The large bloodstain on the backseat stared out at him. Scotty pushed the door closed.
“Let’s put our stuff in the back.”
“Our stuff?” McCain questioned.
“I’m riding back with you. I’ll even drive if you’ll let me,” the big man said.
Chuck started to protest. He didn’t want any company. He wanted to grieve alone. Somehow, he knew that it wouldn’t have mattered. Scotty wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer, and the helicopter had just lifted off.
They put their rifles and equipment in the back of the truck. Chuck handed Scotty the keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Sometimes, you need a friend with you when you are going through a bad dream, he thought.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Epilogue
CIA Headquarters, Tuesday, 1000 hours
He was the only passenger on the small Department of Homeland Security corporate jet. It taxied to a stop at a private terminal at the Ronald Reagan National Airport. The main terminal seemed deserted. He had heard that the zombie virus had people scared to travel. He knew that the east coast had been hit very hard. Television monitors in the terminal showed continuous aerial footage of the devastation at the University of Georgia.
A young man in a dark suit met him and guided him out of the airport to a black, government issued SUV. Chuck noted that the agent eyed him curiously. Traffic was light. Where did everybody go? he wondered. Rebecca had said the week before that the DC area had experienced some of the heaviest bio-terror attacks. The memory of her filled his heart with sadness and he stared out into space as they drove.
The email that he had received had included instructions that he should wear a suit and tie for this meeting. He had opted for jeans, a pale blue shirt, and a blue blazer. His Glock was on his side and he knew he would have to give it up when they got to their destination.
When they stopped at the entrance to the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, his driver asked him, “Can I have your ID, sir. They’ll need to see it at the gate.”
Chuck handed him his ID packet, containing his badge and identification card, identifying him as a federal police officer for the Centers for Disease Control. The driver handed that and his own ID card to the security guard. He checked them against a clipboard and a computer screen before waving them through.
His guide led him inside the building, where they would have to go through another security screening.
“I was told you’re armed, sir?”
McCain nodded and pulled the left side of his blazer back, revealing the black pistol.
The young agent led him to a small room next to the metal detectors. It contained an assortment of gun lockers.
“Please secure your weapon in one of these lockers and then I’ll escort you to your meeting.”
Five minutes later, Chuck was ushered into the office of the Assistant Director for Operations for the CIA. Admiral Jonathan Williams walked out from behind his desk to greet McCain and shake his hand. He limped as he walked and his face told Chuck he was probably in his mid to late seventies but his grip was firm and strong as they shook hands. Williams’ eyes were clear and sharp but he could not hide the sadness that was there as well.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCain. Rebecca told me…” he stopped for a moment and looked down. “I’m
very sorry. She was a beautiful person and we’re all going to miss her.”
He motioned for McCain to sit in one of the two leather chairs facing the desk. The Admiral took the other. Chuck took a moment as he was sitting to do a quick scan of the office. There were a number of photos of promotion ceremonies, family, and ships. Off to one side, however, were photos of a young Jonathan Williams wearing tiger stripe camouflage, a boonie hat, face paint, and carrying a CAR-15 rifle.
A SEAL trident, the distinctive insignia worn by members of the elite unit, was in a shadow box full of medals and other awards on the shelf with the Vietnam era pictures. Williams saw McCain looking at the photos.
“I was one of the early SEALs. BUD/S Class 42. At the beginning of my second Southeast Asia tour, I stopped an AK bullet with my leg and that was that. I was able to stay in the Navy but I’d never go running through the jungle again.
“It was a tough pill to swallow. That was all I wanted to do. But I also knew that I didn’t want to go back to civilian life so I threw myself into being the best officer that I could be, wherever the Navy sent me. I was very fortunate to end up making admiral before I retired and then I was asked to come work for this fine organization.
“But, enough about an old sailor. Please walk me through what happened this past weekend. I understand that it’s painful. Take your time. I read your statement but I’d like to hear about it in your own words.”
Chuck spoke for twenty minutes, leaving nothing out. He didn’t try to cover up the fact that he and Rebecca had started dating or the feelings that they’d had for each other. He detailed the attack at the university and how everything had transpired, including Rebecca’s death.
When he finished, they sat in silence for a few moments. “Thank you for that,” Admiral Williams said. “I’m sorry to have to make you relive it. Of course, you’ve gone through it over and over in your mind since Saturday. Do you think that there’s anything you could’ve done differently?”
