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Authors: Dirk Patton

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Chapter 7

 

The deck of the helicopter was hard with an anti-skid
coating sprayed on it.  I noted this as my face rested on the rough, textured
surface and I pressed hard on the tender areas where the infected female had
clamped down on me.  She had managed to get her teeth on the very upper portion
of my inner thighs and only good luck had kept her from getting a mouth full of
balls, or worse.  The pain was intense, but not as intense as it could have
been.  We were in flight and since I wasn’t a pilot and not needed at the
moment I was happy to stay right where I was, curled in the fetal position and
feeling sorry for myself.

“Stacy!  What’s wrong?” 

It was the tone in Gwen’s voice that made the small hairs on
my arms stand up.  Shoving the pain aside I sat up and looked around to where
the two girls had been huddling at the back of the helicopter.  Gwen was
kneeling over her sister who was laying on the deck and convulsing violently. 
Mayo and I both moved at the same time.  I pushed Gwen aside as Mayo grabbed a
first aid kit that was mounted to a bulkhead, ripped it open and kneeled next
to me with a Syrette of Morphine.  I was cradling Stacy’s head in my lap to
keep her from fracturing her skull on the hard deck and trying to restrain her
just enough to prevent injury when she suddenly let out with an ear piercing
scream before going perfectly still, staring up into my eyes.

“What’s wrong with her?  Help her?”  Gwen screamed and tried
to push in to reach her sister, but I held her back.  Mayo had the Morphine
Syrette poised in mid-air, looking to me for instructions.  That was when it
happened.

Stacy’s eyes bulged nearly out of their sockets, for all the
world looking like a cartoon character who’s eyes pop out of their head in
exaggerated surprise.  When I thought they could grow no larger the whites were
flooded with red as every capillary in her eyes burst, then they receded back
to their normal position.

“Back!”  I shouted, scrambling away and letting Stacy’s head
fall to the deck. 

 Mayo and I put as much distance between us and Stacy as we
could and I cast around looking for the Kukri I had dropped on the deck when I
made it into the helicopter.  Spotting it a few feet away I dove for it as
Stacy leapt to her feet with a scream, looked around and launched herself at
Mayo.  I’ll never know why she ignored Gwen who was right next to her.  Perhaps
even infected she recognized her sister, or more likely Mayo was just the first
person she saw, but she tackled him to the deck.  They rolled over twice
getting tangled in his safety tether which effectively tied their legs together.
 He wound up on his back trying to hold her snapping teeth away from his
flesh.  Kukri in hand I stepped behind Stacy, grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked
to raise her head and swung the machete. 

“Nooooooo!” 

Gwen’s scream of agony was loud even over the roar of the
Pave Hawk as her sister’s head was sliced from her body and started swinging by
the hair balled into my fist, bright red blood pouring out of the cut and covering
the deck.  I hadn’t intended to behead the poor girl, my only thought being to
save Mayo.  Shit.  I looked around the bloody compartment.  Mayo stared at me
from the deck, covered in blood with a shocked look on his face.  Gwen stared
at me from the rear of the compartment.  More accurately she stared at her
little sister’s head that was still swinging in my fist from the motion of the
helicopter.  A low moan came from her, rising in pitch to become a keening wail
as she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

I stood there for a long moment, head swinging from my hand and
blood dripping onto the deck.  Mayo was still frozen in place, breathing hard. 
Gwen had rolled onto her side, her whole body shaking as she sobbed.  Not
knowing what else to do I tossed the severed head out of the open door then
kneeled down to help Mayo untangle from the tether that held the body pressed
on top of him.  Freeing him I lifted Stacy’s body and it followed her head
through the open door.  I watched it pinwheel through the air as it fell until
it disappeared in the thick forest several hundred feet below us.

Mayo retrieved the headset that had been knocked off in the
scuffle and I could see him talking into it, filling in Anderson up in the
cockpit.  The noise of the helicopter in flight was too loud for me to hear
what he was saying, but I had my own concerns.  What the hell had just happened? 
The nerve agent was only supposed to be effective for a maximum of 48 hours. 
Stacy had been fine two weeks ago when I’d first met her, and was fine when we
winched her up into the aircraft.  The only thing that made sense was the
briefing I had received earlier in the day was wrong.  How many of us were
about to become infected?  I watched Gwen closely, but she just lay in a ball
on the deck sobbing.  Mayo, who had had lots of contact with Stacy and was
covered in her blood looked completely freaked out but otherwise seemed fine. 
I looked down at my blood stained hands and a little thrill of fear ran through
me.  Something about bio-weapons has always terrified me.  Probably because
it’s not something I can see and fight.  Putting fears that I couldn’t do
anything about aside I grabbed one of the headsets and slipped it on my head. 
As soon as the noise cancelling kicked in I could hear Mayo and Anderson
speaking.  Not waiting to find out what they were discussing I cut in on the
conversation.

“Anderson, can you get me on the radio with flight ops at
Arnold?”  I asked, lowering myself into a web sling seat and keeping my
distance from Gwen.

“Can do, Major.  Stand by.”

The headset went silent for a few moments then Anderson’s
voice came back, “Major, go ahead for Arnold flight operations.”

“Arnold, Major Chase here.  I need to speak to Major Masuka
immediately.”

“Wait one, Sir.”  It was actually more than one, more like
five, before I heard Masuka’s voice in the headset.

“Major, I’m pretty busy right now.  Can’t this wait until
you’re back?”

“Are we on private comms?”  I asked.

There was silence for a moment then a hum and click.  “We’re
private.  What do you need?”

“We rescued two teenage girls.  Both were healthy when we
got them into the aircraft, but one of them just turned right in front of me. 
The intelligence that the nerve agent is no longer a threat seems to be
flawed.”  I kept an eye on Gwen and Mayo both while I spoke.  One surprise for
the day was enough.

“Repeat that,” she requested.  From the tone of her voice I
could tell she had heard me just fine but wasn’t processing the bad news, so I
repeated myself.

After a few moments of silence she acknowledged she
understood.

“Find an Army Colonel named Crawford,” I said.  “He’s either
still at Arnold or has recently left for Fort Campbell.  He needs to know about
this ASAP.  And I would suggest you get some armed MPs into flight ops right
away.”

“Understood,” was her only reply, then another click and she
was gone.

“How long to Arnold?”  I asked Anderson over the intercom.

“Uh… 20 minutes, Major.  You want me to step it up?”

I didn’t even hesitate, “Yes.  Get us on the ground as fast
as you can.”

The noise and vibration increased as Anderson pushed the
Pave Hawk to its top speed.  Gwen still hadn’t moved.  Mayo had found a blood
borne pathogen response kit in a storage compartment and was washing as much
blood off his skin as he could with a large squeeze bottle of Hydrogen
Peroxide.  He held it out towards me and I gratefully extended my hands.  The
liquid bubbled when it hit the blood on my hands and I rubbed them together,
scrubbing as well as I could.  When we were as clean as could be for the moment
he used the rest of the bottle to hose down the blood that was congealing on
the deck, but nothing short of a fire hose was going to get this helicopter
clean.

Twelve minutes later I felt our speed and altitude change
and looked out the door.  We were over the outer perimeter of Arnold AFB and
Anderson was taking us straight in to the flight line we had departed from.  A
couple of minutes later he flared only a dozen feet above the pavement and set
us on the ground with a barely perceptible thump, executing a textbook perfect
dust-out or combat landing.  I’ve flown with a lot of Viet Nam era pilots that
perfected the dust-out landing and Anderson did it as well as any seasoned
vet.  Moving to the back of the space I bent down and touched Gwen’s shoulder,
pulling my hand back when she jerked away and swung at me.  She looked at me
with eyes swollen and red from crying and I could see the hate burning in them.

“Go ahead, Major.  I’ve got this,” Mayo said as he secured
the minigun.

I nodded my thanks to him and looked Gwen back in the eye. 
“I’m sorry,” I said.  I knew I didn’t have any choice once Stacy turned, but
that didn’t mean I didn’t feel like shit about what I’d had to do.

Turning away I stepped to the door and jumped the few feet
down to the pavement.  Just as my boots hit the ground gunfire erupted from the
direction of the flight operations building.  Leaning back in the door I yelled
at Anderson to get the helicopter refueled and stay with it, grabbed my pack
and took off at a fast run towards flight ops as the sound of a rifle on full
auto reached my ears.

Chapter 8

 

Flight operations was a couple of hundred yards from the
flight line and as I ran an additional rifle on full auto sounded.  Damn it. 
Didn’t the Air Force train their personnel not to waste ammo?  Regardless of
popular conception based on movies full auto is not the way to go.  The rifle
is hard as hell to hold on your target and you will wind up spraying bullets
uselessly all over the place, hitting nothing.  These guys needed to be using
semi-auto or burst mode and picking their targets.

Pounding across the pavement towards the building I angled
towards a steel access door set in the wall facing me, bringing my rifle to the
ready position as I closed inside 50 yards.  As I approached the door slammed
open and two figures tumbled through it and fell to the ground.  They were both
dressed in AF uniforms, and I had to close within a few feet before I could
tell which was the infected and which wasn’t.  They rolled over and the
infected wound up on top, grasping its victim and struggling to reach his
throat.  I stepped in and kicked the infected in the side of the head.  I was
wearing steel toed combat boots and if I had been an NFL kicker would have just
made a field goal from the 50 yard line. 

The infected’s head caved in and the body went limp.  I
reached down and grabbed the back of its belt and hauled the dead body off the
struggling man.  Tossing the infected aside I reached a hand down and was
surprised when I pulled Captain Roach to his feet.  Roach was in the Air Force
Security Force – the AF version of an MP – and I’d had a run in with the
officious little prick when we had landed the previous night.  I’d won the
battle and we’d not parted as friends.  Fortunately my newly minted Oak Leaf
carried more authority than his Captain’s bars so it looked like I had won the
war as well.

“You’re on me,” I told him, yanked the door to flight ops
open and stepped inside.

I found myself in a lighted hallway lined with offices and
the sounds of a firefight were louder and coming from the far end of the
building.  Rifle at my shoulder I started advancing down the hall, not waiting
to see if Roach was following.  I bypassed closed doors.  I had yet to
encounter an infected that could work a door knob.  Open doors however slowed
me down as I had to clear each room before proceeding, not willing to risk
leaving an infected to my rear.  I thought about just closing the doors and
moving on, but opted for clearing each unsecured room as I went.  The first two
rooms I cleared were empty of personnel, but the third was occupied.

A female clerk huddled behind an overturned conference table
as an infected male officer leaned over the edge of the table and tried to
reach her.  He was snarling and waving his arms in frustration, but didn’t have
enough mental faculties remaining to just pull the table out of his way. 
Conserving ammo I drew the Kukri and buried half the blade in the back of his
neck, severing his spinal column.  He dropped without a sound and I motioned
the girl, an Air Force Airman, to stay put.  Exiting the office I closed the
door behind me to keep her safe and was pleasantly surprised to see Roach
standing in the hall with his pistol in hand at low ready, scanning back and
forth for any threats.  He was still a prick.

Moving on down the hall I cleared two more rooms, both
empty, and started up the stairs to the second floor where the large flight
operations center was located.  The firing had stopped and that was either a
good thing – all of the infected had been put down, or a bad thing – the
infected had won the battle.  The stairs were two half flights with a landing
in the middle that forced a 180 degree turn to continue up.  Rifle raised to
engage any targets on the stairs above I stepped onto the landing and swiveled
to cover the upper flight of stairs.  An infected female screamed and launched
herself down the stairs when she saw me.  I pulled the trigger and the rifle
spat out a three round burst that stitched across her chest and head.  All
animation left the body and its momentum carried it down the stairs to crash
into the wall next to me.

Stepping over the body I slowly climbed the upper flight and
paused at the top.  Hundreds of spent shell casings lay on the shiny floor, the
walls and ceiling ripped apart presumably by the inaccurate full auto firing I
had heard.  Three dead infected lay in the hall, pools of blood looking even
redder against the polished linoleum.  The double doors that led into the
operations center were closed and also showed damage from multiple bullet
strikes.  Moving to the left side of the double doors I motioned Roach to take
up position on the right.  I listened for a moment and could hear movement from
inside the ops center, but couldn’t tell if it was survivors or infected.

Meeting Roach’s eyes with mine I gave hand signals to
indicate I heard movement and was going to open the door.  He pushed his
shoulder into the wall, adjusted his grip on his pistol and nodded.  Using the
barrel of my rifle I gently pushed on the door and it started to swing in. 
Immediately full auto fire blasted through the wood, showering the hall as well
as Roach and me with splinters.

“Cease fire!  Friendlies coming in,” I shouted.  Roach
started to step in front of the door but I stopped him.  Just because I had
yelled out didn’t mean whoever was firing that rifle wasn’t still so freaked
out they wouldn’t open up on anything that moved.  After a moment a female
voice I recognized as Major Masuka called out for us to come ahead.  Stepping
in front of the door I pushed it open with my left elbow as I kept my rifle up
and ready.  The rifle’s muzzle was the first thing to enter the room then I
pushed the door all the way open and stepped fully into the opening.

Bodies were everywhere in the room and it stunk of blood,
bowels and gun powder.  Most of the flat panel displays that were mounted on
the walls were shattered and the entire bank of windows that faced the flight
line had been blown out by gunfire.  I just had time to take this all in before
my legs were nearly taken out from under me.  Dog, frantically happy to see me,
forgot that he weighed over 100 pounds and wouldn’t stop jumping against me
until I leaned over, hugged him with one arm and scratched his belly with my
free hand.  Straightening up I came face to face with Rachel who wrapped her
arms around me for a quick hug then stepped back and punched my chest.  Hard.

“That’s for going off without us,” she said and went back
across the room where she had been giving first aid to the injured.  I heard a
snort from Roach behind me and I thought about turning around and breaking his
nose for him.  Fortunately for him Masuka walked over to me just then.

“Your heads up saved a lot of people,” she said, holding a
compress to her arm.

“What happened to you?”  I asked, gesturing at the bandage.

“Stray round,” she replied.  “It happens.”  She tried to
shrug it off.  I looked around the room and spotted two Airmen in full battle
rattle, rifles held across their chests, standing at the far end of the room.

“Yours?”  I asked, turning to Roach.

He nodded his head.  Turning to the two MPs I whistled to
get their attention and waved them over to where I was standing.  They glanced
at each other then walked timidly across the room, stepping over bodies, and
came to attention in front of me.  I told them to stand at ease.

“Were you two the ones doing all the firing on full auto?” I
asked. 

The Senior Airman, senior of the two, swallowed audibly
before answering, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good work keeping these people safe,” I said.  “But, I want
you to put those rifles in semi mode and practice some fire discipline.  If you
get caught out in the open and go rock ‘n roll you’ll burn through your ammo
too fast and wind up somebody’s lunch.  Understand?”

They both acknowledged and stepped away when Captain Roach
motioned them to follow him out to the hall.  When they moved away I went over
to Masuka.

“Did you get word to Colonel Crawford?”  I asked.

“Yes.  A Black Hawk out of Fort Campbell picked him up a
while ago and I got word to him over the radio.”

“Did he make it to Fort Campbell?”

“Don’t know, and haven’t had time to check.  We’ve got two
Globemasters orbiting while we dealt with this, whatever the hell this is,
and…”

A massive explosion from the far end of the flight line cut
off whatever it was she was about to say. 

BOOK: Crucifixion - 02
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