As the last of the group made their way to Ramirez and Knight, they told the rest of the group.
“It looks like the base has most likely been compromised. Those bodies over there are Langston and Parker, but I don’t see any signs of infection. Just be on your guard as we make our way up, who knows what we will find,” explained Knight.
Chapter 32
A Little Too Much
Perhaps he had a little too much to drink, but he didn’t care. It made him feel good, warm, and it lessened his stress enough to where he felt relaxed. Well, not too relaxed; he still had some things on his mind. He wouldn’t let his guard down even though he knew that he was safe.
The storm had made it impossible to get any sleep, not that he had wanted to sleep anyways. He knew he had to stay awake for when the soldier got there and to make sure that nothing else happened. The other two could help, but much like himself, he just wanted to distract himself from what was happening around him. He didn’t want to bother them, and they looked like they couldn’t handle what was happening already.
No, Langston took it upon himself to make sure the camp was safe, to make sure that nothing else bad could happen here. Evans and Daniels were a good enough sort, but when it came down to it, he wasn’t sure if they would be there the back him up if the shit hit the fan. He wasn’t willing to take that risk, so he felt it was his responsibility.
With that in mind, he told himself to cut back on the booze but found he could not help himself. He gave them a single bottle that he had stowed away but kept one for himself deciding that it was best for him to have it. He looked at the bottle; it was expensive, and he usually only took sips of it when he got back from the worst missions. Tonight, was the worst mission he had ever been on.
At first, he just sipped from the bottle of cheaper whiskey that he had lent to Evans and Daniels. He quickly felt his yearning for the expensive bottle and promptly made an excuse to get away. He snuck away from and climbed into his cockpit, looking back towards Evans and Daniels to make sure they didn’t see him. Satisfied they couldn’t Langston produced the bottle, looking at it with a glad heart.
He opened it and took a quick taste, cleaning the cheap stuff out of his mouth. Its rich warmth filled his body, and he found himself caring less and less. He sat down in his chair, enjoying its familiarity. He decided that tonight was the night that he would finish the bottle, even if it did cost almost half his paycheck. Tonight, he didn’t care about money, or any small trivial things, only to make it through the night and back home.
That was his only focus, getting out of this shit and making it back home. He knew that the others felt the same way; no one in their right mind would want to stay here. Getting out of here was going to be hard, but if they made the tough decisions, they would make it. Not everyone would make it; that was just a cold hard fact.
Langston had lost friends before; he even lost soldiers on rescue missions. Eventually, he figured that he could not save everyone and that sometimes there would be someone that might need to be left behind. Sometimes a sacrifice had to be made; if someone wasn’t going to make or they were putting the group at risk, what was the point of trying to save them? The motto was never to leave someone behind, but he would if it meant saving the rest of the group. Why worry about saving all of them if they didn’t have what it took to protect themselves?
Langston took another swig, and he started to feel the alcohol coursing its way through his body, further numbing his senses. He liked the feeling; it made him stronger, caused the pain and worry go away. He would need the strength for what he had planned. With that in mind, he took a deep chug of the whiskey; it burned his throat on the way down.
He would just have to wait until Evans and Daniels got drunk and passed out. Langston sat in his chair watching the storm roll off into the distance. Every so often he glanced at Evans and Daniels who were talking and drinking still. It would only be a matter of time before they were too drunk to remember what Langston had planned.
✽ ✽ ✽
Langston got up out of his chair; he was done waiting. It had to be now or never. He exited the helicopter and walked over to the tents. He found the radio exactly where he left it and disconnected the power, then all the other chords. He didn’t want any more distractions, or if by some chance someone did get to the radio to call for help.
Langston let out a deep sigh; it was time to start. He crept out of the tent and made his way to where the .50 Cal machine gun was set up. Daniels was passed out, lying awkwardly in his chair. Evans still held the bottle and was swaying back and forth, drunk as hell. She was stammering to Daniels as if he was still awake. They both weren’t going to be a problem.
He felt good, things were going his way, and nothing was stopping him from his completing his goal. Langston walked towards the medical tent, stopped outside it. He grabbed the tent flap and pulled it aside; it was dark inside the tent, but Langston could still make out where Parker was laying on the cot. He approached Parker; his heart started to beat faster, adrenaline coursing through his body alongside the alcohol.
Langston held up the knife he had found while taking off Parker’s gear earlier. The irony didn’t escape Langston that he was using the knife against its owner; it caused him to smirk. He shook Parker to make sure that the drugs that he had injected earlier were still working. Parker didn’t react to anything Langston tried, which was good. He put the knife in his belt, saving it for later, and grabbed Parker under his arms.
He lifted Parker off the cot and began to pull him across the tent. Langston pulled him out of the tent, but accidentally lost his grip and dropped him on the hard gravel. Parker moaned but did not wake. Langston would have to act fast; he couldn’t allow any room for error. He had one shot to get rid of Parker, and no matter what he would make sure it happened.
Langston carefully lifted Parker again, holding him tighter. He hadn’t decided on how he was going to get rid of Parker, but he had settled on two ways: Throw him off the side of the building making it seem like suicide or taking him down into the building and finding somewhere quiet to dispose of him. The alcohol in his system told him just to do it here and now; don’t let anyone have a chance to stop it.
The knife weighing down on his belt felt the same way, longing to meet Parker’s flesh. Langston wanted that to happen and decided he would just get rid of Parker here and now. He brought Parker to the edge of the building, behind the supply tent so if Evans did come looking for Langston, she wouldn’t find him. He dropped Parker on the ground, and caught his breath; he felt fuzzy, dizzy.
He wiped his brow and took out the knife again, judging its weight in his hand. He stumbled moving closer towards Parker, falling on top of him. Still, Parker groaned, beginning to regain consciousness. Langston pushed himself off of Parker and tried to right himself, but found it difficult. Instead, he rolled off him and tried to get up; this time, he was successful.
Staring down at Parker he couldn’t help but feel a deep hatred, and it almost scared him. However, he knew that doing the deed would make that all go away; solve all his problems. With that thought fresh in his mind, he gripped the knife tightly and thrust downward with it. He struck Parker in the abdomen, forcing the blade all the way down until the hilt reached Parker’s skin.
Parker cried out in pain, overcoming the induced sleep. Wide-awake parker shoved Langston back, who was caught unprepared and toppled backward several feet. Parker held the handle of the blade, quickly calculating whether he should pull it out or not. He decided against it and instead tried to sit up. Langston was now just getting back on his feet and began stumbling towards him.
It was a race of time, Parker tried to pull himself up, but the pain from the blade was overwhelming. Instead, he backed up, scooting across the gravel. Parker felt around for any weapon that he could get his hands on but did not find anything but more gravel. He felt his back hit a solid surface and cringed with the pain it caused.
With each movemen
t the pain became more intense, his body counteracting the meds. Each movement brought the realization of the pain to the forefront of his mind. Langston was entirely on his feet now and was slowly moving towards Parker. Even with the shock, Parker realized that the only weapon he had available to him was the knife currently plunged into his insides.
Parker readied himself as much as he could, took a massive deep breath and pulled. The knife slowly slid out of the wound, white hot searing pain shot through his insides. He tried to not breath; it caused his muscles to tense up. Eventually, he felt the absence of the blade in his flesh and the warm flow of blood rushing out.
Langston was now only a few feet away, but now Parker had a weapon. He held the knife at the ready but was weak. All it took was Langston kicking feebly to knock the knife out of Parker’s hand. He caught himself from falling over and picked up the knife. Laughing he lunged at Parker with surprising agility, but Parker was ready and dodged him.
Parker was now on his stomach, which gave Langston the upper hand. He punched Parker in the side where his wound was, which caused him to cry out in pain again, and stunned him for a brief time. Long enough for Langston to get up on his knees and bring the knife down again, and, this time, striking true. Parker gasped for breath, the knife puncturing his lung.
Langston was winning the fight, and soon he would ultimately win with Parker’s death. He pulled the knife out and lowered it again, the blade singing, followed by the sickening sound of the blade finding flesh. He pulled the knife out again, but, this time, hesitated, feeling that he should stop. Parker was left on the gravel wheezing, choking on his blood.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed ahold of Parker, hoisting him up. It was time for Parker to take a dive. Langston pulled him up against the wall, standing him up. He looked at Parker’s face, which was caked with blood and dirt, smiling he started to shove Parker over the roof. Parker’s eyes pleaded with Langston, but he didn’t care, his mind was made.
He had half his body over the edge; just one push and it would all be over, Parker would be dead. Just as Langston started to put all his weight into pushing Parker over, Parker in his final attempt to live, grabbed Langston. Langston was caught unprepared for the action and lost his balance, finding himself sliding over the edge of the building as well. Parker, very weak from the blood loss, didn’t have the strength to keep a hold of Langston and fell to the streets below.
Langston was lucky; at the last moment of his falling, he caught the edge of the building with his hand. He only had a one hand grip on the side of the building, and dangerously dangled over the side. He tried to pull himself up using his body strength but found the alcohol working against him now. His judgment impaired caused him to miss his attempt to grab the ledge.
He was still hanging on, but barely. He tried again, and he failed to gain a grip on the ledge. Langston tried to hold on, and reach up again, but his fingers and arm were burning. His grip on the ledge was beginning to falter, and he knew it. He had but one last try before he knew his muscles would give out on him.
He swung his arm up, reaching for the ledge, but came up empty-handed again. His hope disappeared before his eyes, as his fingers completely lost their grip. He watched as the roof he had just been holding onto grew smaller and smaller. The wind rushed past him, he felt himself screaming, but couldn’t hear it.
Langston’s last few moments alive were in complete terror as he fell. Time seemed to slow as he fell, at least before his final few moments. While falling he started to turn towards the ground, and a moment of calm passed over him. He could see his impending doom before him; however, one thing made him feel a small amount of comfort. At first, it was just a blemish of distinct color on the ground below.
As Langston got closer to the ground, he knew what it was. It wasn’t just a blotch on the ground; no, it was much more. It was the twisted and mangled body of Parker. The thought alone made the ever-growing ground, less daunting. That was the last thought that went through Langston’s mind.
Chapter 33
Three left
Knight led them to the front door, which was intact and a good sign. The door opened with a gentle scraping noise as it had before. Everyone in the group held their weapons ready, and they paused, waiting for the infected. None came out from the darker interior of the building, so they moved on to the stairwell at the side of the lobby.
Again, they opened the door and waited, but nothing came from within, only dead silence. The glow sticks they had placed earlier in the morning were still in their place but were very dimly glowing. Something was off; undoubtedly there was a reason why both Langston and Parker were dead. They took the stairs slowly, weapons ready.
Their minds told them something was wrong, but what they could see told them that nothing had changed since they left. The only indication that anything had happened was the lack of communication from the base and the visible dead bodies outside the building. As they all approached the top of the building, they expected to find more gruesome clues that the infected had somehow found their way to the base.
However, there were none, and as they reached the second to last floor from the top, they began to feel a little at ease. Only just, though, there was still something left unexplained. The truth would reveal itself once the group reached the top of the building. It was the need for the truth, which it wasn’t any worse than it already was, that drove them to the top.
After what felt like an eternity of climbing stairs they reached the roof access door. Knight stopped at the door, and put his finger to his lips, telling the others to be quiet. He put his ear to the door and listened. He heard no noise, other than the wind, which he couldn’t decide was good or not.
Knight moved back towards the door, whispering, “I didn’t hear anything, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything out there. Let’s use our rifles; we can risk the noise.”
Ramirez cut in, “I think the three of us should check it out and have the others wait here. If there are infected up there, they won’t be able to follow us back down through the door.”
Knight replied, “That’s probably a good idea. If there are too many, we can just retreat and figure something else out.”
Kenji looked at Knight, “Sounds good.”
“Alright, on three,” said Knight.
Ramirez and Carter moved up next to him and waited. Knight held out three fingers and counted down. Carter opened the door and went to the right, Ramirez went to the left, and Knight went straight. There was still no difference; everything on the roof was still in the right place exactly as they left it.
Kenji held the door open while the three of them moved towards the helicopter that was nearby. They looked in the back of it, finding it to be an empty aircraft. Next was the actual base itself, and no one was guarding it either. Knight began to wonder where Evans and Daniels had gone. He hoped that they hadn’t ended up dead somewhere as well.
They moved through the tents when they heard the first voice.
“Shit!”
Knight held his fist up, signaling the other two to stop. The sound had come from over where the radio Smith had set up earlier was located, behind the tents in the back corner. They waited a few seconds before Knight started to move again, but this time slowly. As they approached the last tent which held the radio they stopped.
Carter moved up to the tent to move the flap, giving Knight and Ramirez a view inside. There were two males, one crouched behind the table, and one was sitting in the chair, in front of it.
Knight commanded, “Don’t move! Who are you?”
The person behind the table and equipment replied, “Knight is that you?”
Knight and the other two lowered their weapons as the man behind the table stood up. Daniels looked at them confused, looking at their rifles they had just been aiming at him.
“Daniels? We thought you were someone else. What the hell happened here?”
“What do you mean? Muller and I are trying to figure o
ut where all these cords go for the radio to contact you guys. Langston and Parker are gone.”
“We know. We found them both dead at the bottom of the building. It looks like they fell from up here. Do you know why?”
Daniels looked shocked, “They are dead? At the bottom of the building, how?”
“We were hoping you could answer that,” replied Knight, “Explain to me how two soldiers just happened to end up dead on your watch.”
Daniels looked at the ground in shame, “Well, to be honest, sir, Evans and I kinda got drunk. She should be in the medical tent lying down.”
He glanced up at Knight, “To be fair, it was Langston who gave us the booze in the first place, and after a while, he left to get more but never came back. The only reason I knew he was gone was that Muller showed up and woke me up. That’s when we started to look around for him; we even checked a couple of the floors below.”
Knight bellowed in rage, “To be fair? To be fair, I should leave you here to rot like the rest of the infected. You only had one job. One! Make sure nothing else happened to the base while we were gone. Instead, I come back to find two more soldiers dead. How do you think I feel adding their names to the growing list of causalities we have had on this mission?”
Knight paused, taking a deep breath trying to calm himself, “We need to pull ourselves together. At every corner, we turn we have made a mistake, and it has cost us all. We need to make sure that we get out of here. If we keep losing people, we aren’t going to make it. I can’t make sure everyone isn’t making stupid mistakes.”
Ramirez stepped in, “It still doesn’t explain how they died,” changing the subject.
Daniels spoke softly, evidently anxious, “Well, Evans said she heard some screams, but she didn’t think it was Langston or Parker, so we didn’t check. Something could have happened between them. Maybe Langston was right, and Parker was crazy.”
“Yeah, I suppose something could have happened. It’s a shame though. It seems like we lose more people every hour. Which brings me to ask how you are here, Muller? I mean we hadn’t heard anything from your team since we called you guys saying we were checking out the base,” replied Ramirez.
What Remains (Book 1): The Outbreak Page 23
