by S. M. LITTLE
“What do you mean ‘let’s’?” Tina grilled him.
‘Exactly that,” Bob replied. “Harry told me earlier that they don’t have a medic here, so I volunteered to go with them if they need it.”
“Volunteered? To go out with those freaks outside?” Tina said, getting angry.
“Yes, they need help, and I can provide it,” Bob replied. He knew this argument would happen and was ready for it. “Besides, who is gonna be testing this Changed one after they get it here? You, that’s who. Helping them is no more dangerous than you working on a live Changed one. In fact, what you will be doing is more dangerous. I’ll be with a squad of Marines. What will protect you?”
Tina had nothing to counter that attack. She wasn’t prepared for Bob to be so well prepared.
“You’re right,” she meekly agreed. “Go and get one, and get your ass back here, mister,” she told him. “We need to find a cure, because this baby factory ain’t gonna be around forever.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bob said as he saluted her. He loved it when she was in ‘take charge’ mode.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
Bob saddled up with the squad of Marines. In the days that followed their arrival at the Institute, the Marines had built a blockade in the entrance to the parking garage. Up-armored Humvees had been acquired in the event they needed to leave the facility and the entire garage had been turned into a motor pool for the Marines. They had enough trucks and Humvees to enact an escape with all the civilians currently inside the institute. One of the vehicles they were using today was an MRAP (Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected), able to carry up to twelve people, but also had room for any Changed they brought back.
Bob was nestled in the back, four Marines with him. They were loaded with all sorts of weapons that made Bob drool. On top of the MRAP was the great equalizer, a Ma Deuce. It was fear inducing to the average human and would turn any Changed into mist.
They pulled out of the garage and turned right onto Broad Street. Another quick right brought them to Westlake Avenue. One block more and a left had them heading east towards Interstate 5. That was the destination. The thought was that many people had become stranded on the highway and maybe some of the Changed were there.
They didn’t get far before observing the chaos the city had become. People were out in force, looting what stores they could and taking from other people. Bottled water was the big item people were after, followed by food and weapons. There were no Changed around, so they kept going.
“Doesn’t look good,” Bob mentioned.
“No. These stupid bastards don’t even know what they need, they’re just taking blindly because they can,” Harry told him. He, along with Cpl. Miller, Pvt. Faulk and Pvt. Jensen were the Marines chosen for this mission. They were ‘Fire Squad One’. The squad had been newly formed this very day for the mission.
They got to Mercer Street and Fairview Avenue before they hit real resistance. Gangs had taken over the corner there and were only allowing people to pass after paying a toll. The toll was money or girls. The Marines stopped a block away and surveyed the scene.
“Jensen, get on the Deuce and let’s show them how the big boys play,” Miller told him. Jensen hopped into the turret and readied the weapon. From a block away, the gang members could hear the M2 getting ready for action.
“Look, the army boys want to play,” a gang member said. He was dressed in gang colors with a bandana on his head. He flashed some sort of sign with his hands and stared at the MRAP. He motioned for his buddies to aim at the vehicle.
“One more inch and we open up!” he shouted at them.
“He must be the leader,” Miller said. He brought a microphone up to his mouth and flipped a switch for the loudspeaker.
“This is Marine Fire Squad One. You are ordered to surrender your weapons and lay face down on the pavement. Any hostile act will be met with lethal force.”
The gang leader just laughed and ordered his men to open fire at the Marines. A barrage of bullets hit the MRAP and bounced off. Miller just sat in the passenger seat and laughed.
He hit the transmit button so the gang could hear him talk to Jensen.
“Lay a warning shot at their feet,” Miller told Jensen. .50 caliber rounds tore up the pavement three feet in front of the gang.
“I would suggest not firing on us again,” Miller warned. As soon as he finished saying that gang members flanked each side of the MRAP, trying to remove the Marines from the vehicle. Jensen saw what was coming and started firing down the left side of the MRAP, shredding the gang members into mist.
The right side of the vehicle was not as lucky. The gang members managed to reach the vehicle and tried to get in. The locked doors would not open, so they resorted to bashing the windows with the stocks of their weapons. From the passenger side seat, Miller just smiled at them as Faulk stuck his M4 out of the gun port and cut them down.
“Not too bright, are ya?” Miller said over the speaker. “Jensen, finish this,” Miller said over the radio.
Jensen once again opened up with the M2 and laid waste to everyone except the leader. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open. Miller was about to tell him to give it up, when he was tackled by a Changed. This one was purple and moved extremely fast. The gang leader was torn to ribbons in mere seconds. Everyone in the MRAP could only stare as they watched the purple Changed devour its prey. Jensen lost his breakfast as the purple Changed smiled while eating.
“It’s enjoying it,” Bob said from the back. He was transfixed by what he was witnessing, wondering if his friend, Ted, back at the hospital was doing the same thing.
“Take it out!” Miller ordered. Every gun in the vehicle shot at the purple thing. Jensen pulled himself together enough to fire a burst into its head. It fell to the ground and ceased moving.
“Is it dead?” Jensen asked.
“I don’t know, but we don’t have time to find out,” Miller said as he looked down the side street. A large grouping of Changed was heading towards them.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Faulk asked, as he readied his weapon.
“Don’t know,” Miller replied. “Must have been the noise that attracted them. Let’s see what we can learn. Take out that blue one in front.” The group was two hundred yards away from them and coming fast.
Faulk fired a single shot at the blue, hitting it in the stomach. It didn’t even flinch.
“Again,” Miller ordered. Faulk fired three rounds this time, each hitting dead center in the blue’s chest. The blue slowed a bit, and then kept coming.
“Head shot,” Miller said, sounding a little more worried.
Faulk aimed and fired, placing the round in the middle of the blue’s forehead. Its legs went limp and it fell face first into the pavement.
“Head shots will take them down,” Miller said. “Dawson, get us out of here.” The group was now less than a hundred yards away and Miller saw no reason to stay any longer.
Dawson put the vehicle in gear and headed away from the group, only to drive straight into another one. Bodies bounced off the MRAP like ping pong balls. They could hear and feel each one that hit them, and the ones they ran over. The MRAP moved through the group like a hot knife through butter.
“Too many more and we will get bogged down,” Dawson shouted. “We need an exit.”
Miller searched through the front windshield and found an out for them.
“Jump the curb and head for the interstate,” he yelled.
The group was getting bigger, making it tougher for the MRAP to move. There was a small window of opportunity on their right. The Changed weren’t as thick there, and if the MRAP could punch through, it was a short off-road run to the freeway.
“Everyone, start shooting them. We can double back to pick up some of the dead ones after we lose them on the freeway,” Miller ordered.
The M2 opened up with a blistering rate of fire, creating a multicolored mist in the ai
r.
“We need some of them in one piece, Jensen,” Miller shouted.
Jensen eased back off the Ma Deuce, and let the others pick off the Changed with single shots.
Dawson got through the group, bounced over the curb and hit the gas. He launched the MRAP through the grass, up an incline and onto the freeway.
“Slow down a bit,” Miller told him.
“Slow down?” Dawson asked, looking a little pale from the fight.
“Yes, we want them to follow us, so we can clear out the area,” Miller told him.
Dawson slowed enough so the group of Changed could follow them. The squad lead the Changed over a mile away before Miller told Dawson to lose them. Dawson was more than willing to floor it and get away from those things.
They made their way in a circuitous route back to the site of the original ambush. Bodies were strewn about for several blocks. Each body was covered in a sheen of multi-colored blood. The gang members that had been killed by the Marines were torn apart and half eaten by the Changed.
“There,” Miller said, pointing towards a pile of Changed bodies. “We can get our samples there.” The MRAP slowed and came to a stop near the pile.
“Faulk, you’re with me. Jensen, stay on that .50 cal while we’re out of the vehicle. Shred anything that comes close,” Miller ordered. He and Faulk exited the vehicle and walked up to the pile of bodies, weapons at the ready. They were taking no chances. Bob even had a weapon pointing out of the MRAP.
“Get this one,” Miller said, pointing at a green one that wasn’t too shot up. Faulk shouldered his M4 and went to pick up the green one. It was laying on top of the pile, so it should have been easy to pick it up, but it was heavy as hell.
“What the hell?” Faulk said. The body looked like a twenty something girl, very slim and not that heavy. “This body weighs a ton.”
Miller came over to lend a hand and was about to warn Faulk when the green girl turned her head and bit into Faulk’s leg.
He roared in pain as the girl bit all the way through his calf, taking out a large chunk of flesh. She spit it out and turned her head from side to side, searching for the noise behind her. Miller was walking up to her and his foot falls were making the slightest of noises.
It was like a pin dropping compared to the blast from Miller’s rifle. He shot her in the head and ran for Faulk. He caught Faulk before he hit the ground.
“Ahhh shit,” Faulk said through gritted teeth. “This can’t be good.”
Bob jumped out of the vehicle and raced over to Faulk. He looked at Miller and shook his head.
“From what I’ve seen, he is going to change. It’s only a matter of time,” Bob said. He pulled Miller away and whispered to him, “We can end it for him now.”
“You ain’t ending anything. Patch me up, tie me up, and bring me back. We need the info you can get from me,” Faulk said.
“Do it,” ordered Miller.
Bob reached into his pack and retrieved the first aid kit. Faulk howled in pain as Bob applied a package of quick clot to the bite to stop the bleeding. Bob wrapped the wound as best he could and looked at Miller.
“I don’t know how long before we lose him,” Bob said.
“Then we’d better hurry,” Miller said. “Grab a couple of dead ones and let’s get out of here.”
They loaded the bodies and Faulk into the MRAP and started back towards the institute. They were stopped several blocks away by a another group of gang members. The gang was pointing rifles at them and had vehicles coming towards them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA
The east fence line now had Changed running towards it. Mike, Pete and all the other personnel were surrounded with only one avenue of escape. The Warthogs were doing an admirable job, but the numbers of Changed were just too many. The pilots overhead had radioed in that the group had surrounded the base and were stretched out just over a mile deep.
Bodies were starting to stack up outside the wire to the point that it would make the fence line a moot point. The Changed would soon be able to just walk over it. There was the ten yard ‘no man’s land’ between the two fences, but that would fill up quickly, not to mention the inner fences would come down before the changed could just walk over the dead piled in the center.
Mike watched as several more jets flew overhead and made some space between the Changed and the base. Fire erupted as the jets dropped napalm and Mike watched in horror as the Changed kept coming even though they were burning from the deadly bombs. They would walk a few feet and then drop. Then they would continue towards the fence, crawling on the ground until finally succumbing.
“For all that is holy, what the hell is this?” Mike whispered. His M4 had long ago burned out, the barrel glowing cherry red. He was down to his sidearm because there was no time to go get another rifle.
Pete still had some life left in his rifle, but the glow of the barrel was starting to brighten.
“Pete, look out!” Mike screamed.
Pete turned his head to see a red one bolt through the onslaught of bullets and launch himself at the fence. Pete turned his weapon and dispatched it just in time.
“Holy shit, that’s finding religion,” Pete stammered. The red Changed was right in front of Pete, on the other side of the fence. The gurgling sound they had been hearing from the group had turned into a full-throated battle cry.
Mike looked around to see many of the other airmen holding rifles that had burned out. If it wasn’t for the flyboys, the base would have been lost long ago.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Mike said to Pete. Pete just looked at him, and a lifetime of brotherhood kicked in. They knew what they had to do.
At the same time, they both left their post and ran like hell to the nearest Globemaster. They had no idea how they were going to get on the plane, as the base had instituted the every third man rule. It turned out to be a non-issue as the loudspeaker gave the go ahead to abandon the base and for all remaining personnel to fall back to the planes.
They boarded the nearest plane and sat down. Immediately, the rear cargo door started to close, and the plane started to taxi to the runway. It wasn’t exactly normal procedure to taxi out while the door was closing, but the pilot was in a hurry.
“Must be getting worse out there,” Pete said.
Mike looked out the door as it was closing to see the south fence had been overrun. There were still airmen there, getting ripped to pieces by the Changed. Others that were watching started to vomit, seeing their fellow airmen being torn apart. Before the door fully closed, Mike could see Changed start to run for the plane. They had only moments before it would be too late for them. If a changed one got too close to the engines, they could get sucked in and the result would be an engine blowing up. (see comment – I would delete this sentence)
The door fully closed and Mike felt the thrust of the engines as the pilot pushed the engines to max power. Soon he could feel the plane start its upward ascent and felt the landing gear lock in place. They were airborne.
Pete let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and looked at Mike.
“What now?” Pete whispered to him.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know where we’re going,” Mike answered.
They looked at each other for a long time, listening to others in the cargo area. Much of the talk was about what they had just left behind. Pete overheard someone talking about the President. It sounded like the President had addressed the country.
Pete got up and walked over to the guy.
“Excuse me, did you say the President talked to the country?” Pete asked him.
“Yes, he did. He doesn’t want people to hurt these things. He thinks if we leave them alone, they will leave us alone. Can you believe that?” the guy responded.
“Actually, yeah, I can,” Pete said and went back to Mike and filled him in on what he had learned.
“Are you serious?” Mike asked.
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br /> “As a heart attack,” Pete said.
“We can’t stay, wherever we end up,” Mike whispered. “You have family that will need you.”
“I know, but you know what that means,” Pete glared at him. “I’m in if you are.”
“They don’t know what to do. I fear that they will end up killing more people than they will save, and I can’t be part of that. The government is going to fail us,” Mike said in a low voice. He wanted to make sure nobody could overhear them and learn what they were planning.
“Agreed. That bastard wasn’t one to uphold the Constitution very much anyway,” Pete whispered.
“Ok, when we land, we load up and get out. Go to your sister’s?” Mike asked.
“Yes. Branson may be a long drive, depending on where we land. We need to be ready,” Pete answered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NORTH LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS
Lucy and Greg made it to her apartment and crashed. The exhaustion they felt from the long hours at the hospital and the walk back had taken everything out of them. They fell onto the bed and were asleep before their heads even hit the pillows. Greg did remember to lock the door.
They awoke to complete darkness. Greg checked his phone to discover they had slept all through the day and into the night. It was just past 11:00 pm. He decided to let Lucy sleep a bit longer and went to take a shower. Removing his clothes, he looked in the mirror and noticed his facial hair had grown. He normally kept everything neat and trimmed, as he felt all professional doctors should. He immediately opened the medicine cabinet for a razor, then remembered he wasn’t at his house.
“Well, its gonna grow out anyway,” he mumbled to himself. Looking closer in the mirror, he could see that his shoulder had a nasty scratch. It wasn’t too deep but looked like something had gouged a trough in his skin.
“Holy shit, I didn’t think the bullets were that close,’ he said. Greg looked for and found some medical supplies and proceeded to disinfect the scratch, wincing slightly in pain. Once clean, he bandaged it and started on the wound on his forehead. It was a thin slice, not much longer than a couple of inches.
