Nurse Alissa vs. The Zombies | Book 6 | Rescue

by Baker, Scott M.

  Boyce and Ken opened the terminal door and headed for the helicopter. Boyce paused to ask Alissa, “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  When they departed, she turned to Carrington. “Are the blood samples we retrieved from Boston safe?”

  The doctor pointed to a cooler by the door. “They’re packed in snow. That’ll maintain their integrity.”

  “Good. In case we don’t get the others back….” Alissa allowed her thought to trail off.

  “I promise I’ll keep them safe.” Carrington reached behind the counter and withdrew a black baseball cap with the Air Force logo embroidered on it. “I found this in the back room. It’s better than nothing.”

  “Thanks.” Alissa placed the cap on her head. She searched for Chris but could not find him, assuming he sulked somewhere. Screw it. She’d deal with him later. Alissa shook the doctor’s hand. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Good luck.”

  Alissa departed the terminal, ducking low. The downdraft from the rotors churned the snow into a frenzy, blinding her. She saw the door to the Seahawk a second before she reached it. Climbing onto the flight deck, she reached behind her, slid shut the troop door, and secured it.

  A familiar voice said, “Welcome aboard.”

  Chris sat in the seat by the port troop door.

  “What are you doing here? You’re in no condition to go with us.”

  “I’m Robson’s new crew chief.”

  Alissa glared at him. “What do you know about being a crew chief?”

  “The same as you about leading a combat mission.”

  Chris held out her headset and patted the seat beside him. Alissa took it, placed it on her head, but sat across from him. Chris gestured for her to pop the magazine out of her carbine and point the barrel at the floor. She complied, although she threw him a glare colder than the weather outside.

  Robson’s voice came through the headset. “Are we ready back there?”

  “Roger that,” answered Chris.

  The intensity of the rotors increased and the Seahawk lifted off the tarmac. Snow swirled around the windows, restricting their view. After a few seconds, the helicopter reached enough of a height that it didn’t generate a downdraft.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your pilot speaking. We have a short flight to our destination, so sit back and enjoy it while you can. We know you had no choice of airlines, but we thank you for flying Miracle Air. Remember our motto: If you get there, it’s a miracle.”

  Chris smiled at the old joke. Alissa shook her head.

  Robson turned the helicopter southeast and headed for Warren Island.

  Chapter Five

  Robson flew the Seahawk over Penobscot Bay and continued south, making landfall on Warren Island near Turtle Head Cove. Both he and Frank wore Night Vision Goggles to help them see better through the blizzard. The horizon to the east grew lighter, indicating sunrise had occurred, although in this storm it helped only slightly. With visibility poor, he descended, praying he wouldn’t hit treetops or power lines. He detected a smooth, white patch of snow running north-south through the trees. Assuming it to be the main road, he followed it. A few minutes later, they passed over the narrow strip of land separating the northern and southern parts of the island, the surf pounding on shore barely discernable.

  Frank pointed ahead of him. “Isn’t that where we landed two days ago?”

  Despite being covered in two feet of snow, the contours of the airfield were still visible, though barely. “It is. We’re close to the center of town. Keep your eyes out for the school.”

  * * *

  Ben stood by the door to the motor pool garage, staring into the blizzard, searching for any approaching deaders. Between the dark and the white out conditions, those things could sneak up on them undetected.

  Something unusual caught his attention. At first, Ben assumed it to be the snarling of a horde of deaders. After a minute, it became more audible. It belonged to something mechanical, not living dead.

  “Guys, come here.” Ben leaned into the garage.

  “Shut up,” Woody yelled out from the front of the Mack where he assisted Brad in installing the plow. “You’ll bring the whole fucking horde down on us.”

  “You got to hear this. It sounds like a helicopter.”

  “Are you nuts?” Woody put down the wrench and crossed the garage, followed by Brad and Gary. “No lunatic would fly in this weather.”

  Ben pointed to the sky. “Listen.”

  Woody stepped outside and looked up.

  Brad leaned out to listen. “That’s a helicopter.”

  Woody waved his hand for them to be quiet and listened. “It’s a helicopter.”

  Ben shook his head. “No, shit.”

  Ducking back into the garage, Woody motioned to the others. “We have to get our asses in gear.”

  “What for?” asked Brad.

  “To get these plows attached. No one knows we’re here. If we want to get out alive, we need to track down that chopper.”

  * * *

  Kiera sat on the floor in the far corner of the room, leaning against the walls, dozing. The deaders in the corridor suddenly became active, shuffling around loudly and moaning. She noticed shadows moving back and forth underneath the door. Kiera jumped to her feet, prepared to fend off an attack. Costas, Murphy, and Rogers had taken up position near the door, their Sig Sauers drawn. Rebecca stayed in the bathroom, one hand wrapped around Shithead’s mouth and the other petting him, trying to keep him quiet.

  Only the living dead were not coming after them.

  “What’s going on?” asked Murphy.

  “Something got them riled up,” whispered Costas.

  Kiera heard it first. An engine. She moved over to the window and looked out. “You have to see this.”

  Costas joined her as a helicopter flew past, its outline blurred by the storm.

  Rogers raised his eyebrows. “A rescue mission?”

  “Looks like it.” Costas stepped away from the window, took the radio from Rogers, and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to check with the others.”

  * * *

  The radio crackled and Costas’s voice came through the speaker. “Hoskins, you there?”

  Hoskins picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. “I’m here. What’s up?”

  “We just spotted a helicopter over town.”

  The lieutenant did not believe him. “In this weather?”

  “I know it sounds crazy. Several of us saw it.”

  MacIntyre went over to the window and opened it. She listened for a few seconds but could only hear the wind. Then it came through, the distinct thumping of helicopter rotors.

  “Damn it, there’s a chopper out there. And it sounds like it’s heading this way.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Who cares? Hang on.” Hoskins lowered the radio and snapped his fingers to attract MacIntyre’s attention. “Get on the roof and flag them down.”

  “With what?”

  “I have a flashlight.” Ramirez pushed himself off his cot, stepped over to his locker, and removed an Imalent one hundred thousand lumen flashlight from the top shelf. “This ought to get their attention.”

  “Thanks.” She ran out of the room and down the hall, heading for the ladder that led to the roof.

  “Costas, contact Saunders and let him know what’s going on. I’m going to greet our guests and find out what this I all about.”

  * * *

  Costas’ voice came over the radio. “Captain Saunders, can you read me, sir?”

  Ames pressed the talk button. “We read you.”

  “How’s the captain?”

  “Still in a lot of pain. And we’re both freezing.”

  “You may not be cold much longer. There’s a chopper over the island.”

  Saunders motioned for Ames to give him the radio. “What are you smoking? No way anyone could fly in th
is weather.”

  “Someone did. A bunch of us saw it and Lieutenant Hoskins’ group heard it. They’re trying to flag it down.”

  “Let’s hope they do. Keep me posted.”

  Saunders handed the radio back to Ames then shifted position, moaning from pain.

  “Do you think it’s legit, sir?”

  “What?”

  “The rescue mission.”

  “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. As long as they can get us off this damned island.”

  * * *

  Robson maneuvered the Seahawk so it flew down the west coast of Warren Island.

  “What are we looking for?” asked Frank.

  “For the school. Ken, can you join us?”

  Ken unbuckled himself and moved forward to the cockpit. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to help us locate the school.”

  Ken moved between the pilot and co-pilot. “Are you following the central road?”

  “No. The coast road.”

  “Then it should be on the left.”

  “What’s that?” asked Frank.

  “Where?”

  “Off to the left. It looks like someone’s shining a flashlight.”

  “That’s the school,” said Ken.

  Alissa came forward to see. “Looks like we found survivors.”

  “That’s not necessarily a good thing.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t take more than six passengers, especially in this weather. And I already have you four.”

  “Shit.” Alissa had not thought of that.

  Robson pointed to the main troop compartment. “Everyone, take your seats and strap in. This landing is going to be rough.”

  * * *

  Hoskins reached the roof as MacIntyre used the flashlight to guide in the helicopter, which hovered fifty feet above her. He stayed on the ladder in case anything went wrong. MacIntyre used the high-powered flashlight to center the pilot over the roof and, when in the right position, signaled for him to land. As the helicopter descended, the downdraft blew two feet of accumulated snow in all directions, blinding Hoskins. He ducked back into the building. Snow fell through the opening on his head and shoulders.

  The Seahawk rested its landing gear on the roof. MacIntyre ducked and ran to the port troop door, sliding it open.

  “I’m glad to see you.”

  Alissa centered herself in the door and spoke loud enough to be heard over the helicopter. “Not as happy as we are to see you.”

  Robson’s voice coming through the headset interrupted the conversation. “We can’t stay here long. The winds are too severe. We’re going to head back to the airfield. Call us when you’re ready.”

  Alissa gave the pilot a thumbs up. Removing her headset, she stepped aside so Boyce and Ken could jump out.

  Chris hobbled over to the door. “Be careful out there. Don’t get yourself killed.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Alissa leaned in and kissed him.

  Chris closed the door and made his way back to his seat. The others crouched as the helicopter lifted off the roof and flew away to the north.

  Hoskins re-emerged onto the roof. “Get inside where it’s warm.”

  MacIntyre led the others to the opening and helped them down the ladder, following last and pulling the door closed behind her. Hoskins met them at the bottom, motioning for them to be quiet. Alissa could hear the deaders on the first floor churned into a frenzy by all the commotion above them. He ushered them down the corridor to where the other survivors were gathered.

  As MacIntyre closed the door behind them, Hoskins stepped up to Alissa and offered his hand. “I’m Lieutenant Hoskins of the Maine National Guard.”

  “Alissa Madison.”

  After all the introductions had been made, Hoskins turned to Alissa. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on? Why did the helicopter leave?”

  “Leave?” Susie turned to Patricia. “I thought they were here to save us.”

  “They are.” Patricia hugged the girl and glanced over at Alissa. “Right?”

  Alissa made her way over to Susie and knelt in front of her. “Of course, we’ll get you out of here. But it’ll take a little time.”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question,” said Hoskins.

  Alissa positioned herself so she could see everyone in the room. “We’re on a rescue mission to see if certain people survived at the hospital. We landed here because it was the only building with a flat roof. Don’t worry. We’ll get you out as well.”

  “We’re in radio contact with two groups of survivors, one near the dock and the one at the hospital.”

  “Who’s alive at the hospital?”

  “Three of our men, a woman, a teenager, and that special patient who came in a few days ago.”

  “Do you know their names?” Alissa grew excited. “The woman and the teenager.”

  “I don’t remember.” Hoskins turned to MacIntyre. “Do you?”

  “The woman is Roberta or Rebecca. She had a dog with her. The teenager is Kiera.”

  Alissa fell onto the cot and cried. Thank God, the others were alive. The uncertainty and anxiety dissipated. She hadn’t gotten them killed after all.

  Susie slid across the mattress and hugged her. “It’s okay, lady. Now that you’re here, we’ll be fine.”

  Alissa sniffed back her tears and wiped her eyes with her left hand. With her right, she hugged Susie and kissed her on the forehead. She stood up and stepped over to Hoskins, removing the hand-drawn map from her jacket pocket and handing it to the lieutenant.

  “You said there were two groups of survivors. Where is the second?”

  Hoskins studied the map before pointing to the tip of a small peninsula to the northeast of their current position. “They’re right here near the ferry. Captain Saunders, who is wounded, and Private Ames.”

  “That’s good. We can pick them up after the hospital. How far is the ferry dock from the hospital?”

  “Another five or six miles,” said Ken.

  “Shit. That’s a hell of a long way to walk in the middle of a blizzard.”

  “We might be able to help you with that.” Hoskins smiled and motioned for Alissa to join him at the window. When she did, he pointed to the school bus parked outside. “We added the plow just before the storm and made sure she’s gassed up. If we can get to her, we won’t have to walk to the hospital and the ferry.”

  “What do you mean ‘if we can get to her’?”

  Alissa answered her own question when she saw the pack of deaders wandering around the bus.

  “In addition to those, we have God knows how many more on the first floor.”

  “Can they get up here?” asked Boyce.

  MacIntyre shook her head. “We blocked all the stairwells with furniture. There is no way anything is getting up here.”

  “Which also means there’s no way of us getting down,” added the lieutenant.

  “We’ll figure a way out. But first….” Alissa pointed to the radio. “…can I talk with Kiera?”

  * * *

  It took Rogers several attempts to reach Hoskins. At first, he feared the worst until the lieutenant finally came on the air.

  “Jesus, sir. You had me worried.”

  “Sorry. We were greeting our guests.”

  “So, you know about the helicopter that flew over the island?”

  “It landed here a few minutes ago.”

  “Did it bring an extraction team?” Rogers asked excitedly.

  “It’s only Boyce and two civilians. They came to see if the vaccine patient is still alive.”

  “That figures.” Rogers glanced up at the bathroom door leading into the hospital room. That patient and the civilians who accompanied him had been pains in the ass ever since they arrived on the island.

  “It’ll be okay. The few survivors who made it off the island are at Belfast Airport. Once we gather the survivors still on the island, the helicopter will fly us off, even if takes
a few trips.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Tell the sergeant we’ll contact him once we have a plan of action. In the meantime, pass the radio to Kyla.” A voice in the background corrected Hoskins. “I mean Kiera.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Rogers cautiously opened the bathroom door and waved for Kiera. “Someone wants to talk to you,” he whispered.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Rogers briefed Costas as Kiera entered the bathroom. Shithead wagged his tail. Kiera crouched and leaned back against the wall, scratching the dog behind his ears as she raised the radio.

  “This is Kiera.”

  “Kiera, hon. It’s me. Alissa.”

  “Alissa!” Kiera almost yelled it. “You’re alive?”

  “Chris and I were the only ones to make it out of Boston.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Here on Warren Island. We’re at the school.”

  “You’ve come to rescue us?”

  “We’re going to try. How is everyone else?”

  “Rebecca and Shithead are here with me.”

  “And Nathan?”

  “No change, but I guess that’s a good thing.” Kiera fought back a tear. “I’m so sorry for getting mad at you before you went into Boston.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. You sit tight. We’re coming to get you out.”

  “Good luck. This island is swarming with deaders.”

  “Don’t worry. We have that covered.”

  * * *

  “Do either of you see the airfield?” Robson asked over the intercom.

  “We can barely see twenty feet in front of us,” answered Frank.

  Chris did not bother to reply. He moved from one side of the flight deck to the other as he searched for the landing strip. Despite it being day, the blizzard had covered everything on the island, making it difficult to distinguish anything other than structures. Nor did it help that the wind had increased, blowing the snow around and further limiting vision.

  The wind let up for a minute. Chris spotted a two-thousand-foot-long strip stretching through the woods with two small buildings at the northern end.

  “I see it off to our left. About two hundred feet away.”