Islands of Rage and Hope (eARC) (22 page)

"Not like day, Sergeant," Dutch said. "But some, yes. And we have company on the beach. Infected feeding at two o'clock."

Ignoring his whole "tactical landing" speech, Weisskopf switched on his weapon's light and shone it to the right. Sure enough, there was an infected gnawing one of the bloating corpses on the beach.

"Ow," Dutch said, shielding his eyes.

The infected looked up at the light and snarled, then went back to feeding.

"Engaging," Weisskopf shouted. He fired twice to no effect as the boat was rocking on the light waves. "Damnit."

There were two rapid shots and the infected dropped.

"What was it about 'tactical landing' that you did
not
understand, Sergeant Weisskopf?"
Faith radioed.
"All teams. White light now that we are definitely
not
tactical. Boats, screw the noise, get us on land,
fast
."

The line of Zodiacs powered up, heading into the beach at nearly fifteen miles an hour. Not their top speed but they were within fifty meters of the beach when they got the order.

"Brace, brace, brace," Faith called just as the Zodiacs slid up onto the white sand of the beach. Then: "HIT THE BEACH MARINES!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

There were customers. There had been leakers all day but apparently there were some that only came out at night. And they were feeding in singles and doubles all along the strand on the bodies left by the morning's serenade.

Faith cleared the bow of the Zodiac in a hurdle and fired as soon as she hit the ground, dropping the only infected in her sector. There were more closing and some of the Marines were, clearly, panic firing. Her ear was attuned to the rapid and uneven
bangbang--bangbang--bang
and she could tell by the way the gun-lights were jerking around everywhere.

"Calm it down, folks," Faith radioed on the command frequency. There were two frequencies the radios could pick up, one was the local "team" frequency and one was the "command" frequency. When the command frequency was running, it stepped on the local. She was also careful to use her best "golf announcer" impression. "Shooo, soooft, soooft. Squad leaders, team leaders, let's get this fire under control. We're Marines. Marines don't panic. We
aim
. Div One, could we get some support fire on the flanks, if you please.
Careful
support fire."

"Freeman, Twitchell," Sergeant Smith snapped. "Check fire! Check fire!"

"They're all around us, Sergeant!" Twitchell yelled. He was pulling on an empty trigger.

"I said Check Fire, Marine!" Smith shouted. "What is it about 'check fire' you do not understand?"

"That
I'm
in charge, Sergeant!" Sergeant Hoag said, firing repeatedly at an infected in among the trees. It just wouldn't
fall
. She fumbled her reload and started clawing for another magazine until her hand fell on a grenade...

"That's a BUSH!" Smith screamed. "You can't kill a BUSH, Sergeant! Check fire! There are
no
moving infected in our sector!"

"You are
not
the team leader, Sergeant Smith!" Hoag shouted, then took a deep breath as the firing died down. "Fuck. That looks just
like
a guy. That looks just
like
a fucking guy."

"A guy with
clothes
," Smith said. "It's trash bags on a bush. Even if it
was
a guy, it would be a survivor. Has clothes. Check fire, okay?"

"Roger," Hoag said, breathing heavily. "Team, check fire. Check fire."

"And, Sergeant, could you
very calmly
let go of the pin on the grenade and put it
back
in its pouch?"

"Freeze," Faith said on the command frequency. She was scanning the entire line and couldn't see any infected. "I can see lights still twitching. Who doesn't understand the command 'freeze'?"

"Fucking
freeze
, Saul!" Sergeant Weisskopf snapped.

She waited until every gun light was still. Still no infected.

"On my command," Faith said. "Non-NCOs only, even if you have a full mag, will reload. NCOs only, cover if you have rounds, if not, just stay still. When you are reloaded, and take your time, put your light back on your sector and freeze. Execute."

There was a
budda-budda-budda
from one of the gunboats that had spotted what it thought was an infected on the flank. Some of the lights started shifting that way.

"Back on your sectors and freeze if you're reloaded," Faith said calmly. "If you are
not
reloaded, your NCOs are going to have you drilling every free moment the rest of the cruise..."

"We need to put your sister in a glass case like Snow White," Colonel Hamilton said, his arms crossed. He was monitoring the radio chatter from the deck of a gunboat. "With a sign on it that says 'Break in the event of a zombie apocalypse.'"

"That's Faith, sir," Sophia said, also watching the action. "Got it in one." In the darkness she gave a very slight smile.

"On my command," Faith said. "
One
junior enlisted in each team, as designated by team leader, will cover the team. NCOs will reload. Team leaders, designate a shooter..."

Hoag opened her mouth for a moment, then said: "Kirby."

"Aye, aye, Sergeant," Kirby said, not moving a muscle. He let his eyes do the searching for targets.

"Aaaand...Execute..."

"At my command, all personnel will move slowly and carefully
backwards
until both boots are
in
the water at
ankle
depth," Faith said. "Execute."

She moved back to the water. The Zodiacs had powered off the beach so there was plenty of room.

"Take a knee, take your sectors and hold that," Faith said. "Team leaders and team leaders only may engage if there are targets. All others will direct their attention to the center of the formation. All lights but mine shall remain
still
absent approaching infected and then only team leader lights may move. Lights are used for signaling at night. Notably, a light going like this..." she moved her light rapidly back in forth, "is a signal of distress. If for no other reason than anyone moving their light like
this
," again rapid back and forth, "is having
some
trouble. This," she continued, moving it around in a circle, "is saying that you're okay. When you are checking a broad sector, you move your light in calm, regular, sweeps," she said, continuing to demonstrate. "Staff Sergeant Barnard, you have an approaching tango... Take your time... The staff sergeant will now demonstrate the proper method of engaging targets using tactical lighting."

Barnard took a couple of deep breaths and realized that it was causing her light to shake. Which she knew made her look weak, something that was just absolutely
idiotic
in a Marine Senior NCO! She just felt totally out of her depth. She hadn't done any "infantry" shit since Basic. She could
shoot
, she was a God-damned
expert
marksman, she was a Marine Senior NCO! But this wasn't just about shooting. And that little bitch was so Fucking Calm about it. She didn't have any
business
being in the Marine Corps, she didn't have any
business
being an officer, she didn't have any
business
telling a Marine staff sergeant what to do, much less making her look like a
fool
in front of her Marines. And no thirteen-year-old girl had any business being so God-damned CALM!

The entire thought was a single instant that took no time at all. But it was enough time for the loping infected to close twenty meters. Barnard decided that she was
not
going to let the little bitch rattle her. The staff sergeant put the aimpoint on its chest and squeezed.

The round hit on the upper right chest and she put a second into the chest area, more centered, then a third. The infected finally fell.

"Standard for killing an infected is five rounds of five-five-six,"
the lieutenant radioed, still in that golf commentator voice.
"Note that the Staff Sergeant took a bare three which is not surprising. She is a Marine Senior NCO and we should all aspire to her marksmanship.
That
is how Marines shoot. The Army sprays and prays. Marines choose their targets and kill them efficiently, as the Staff Sergeant just demonstrated. At my command, all personnel are authorized free fire on their sector. If I hear anyone
panic firing
this time, you will return to the ship until such a time as you can be retrained for night combat. Execute. We will hold what we have for a few minutes to let the teams engage approaching infected and get comfortable with the night."

"Marine ground commander, switch to channel seven."

"Roger,"
the lieutenant replied.
"Squad leaders, maintain control of your teams."

"How comfortable are you with continuing the mission, Shewolf?"
Hamilton radioed.

Faith gave a slight dimple before returning the call. It was the first time that the colonel had used her handle.

"It's all good, sir," Faith replied. She'd waded out into the water knee deep. The wind was coming from the land and it carried her voice away so the conversation wouldn't be overheard. Of course, there was blood in the water which meant sharks. She didn't want to stand here all night.

"I probably pumped 'em up too much before we landed. They'll get it together. We're good to continue the mission. I'd like fifteen minutes..." There were some shots from down the line and she didn't even turn around. They were calm. It was clear that the shooter was having trouble getting the zombie to be good but that was just Barbie guns. She did wait until the firing stopped to continue. "Then I'll secure the perimeter for the arrival of the Navy. Over."

"Concur. Kodiak, out."

"Yo, Cindy, 'sup?" Faith said, walking along a bit more than ankle deep behind the line of Marines. There were occasional shots but no panic firing. She held her hand up for a fist bump. "Sweet shot, Staff."

"Thank you, ma'am," Barnard said, standing up and fist bumping. "Pleasure to be of service."

"So, we'll give it ten more minutes for everybody to realize that we're not going to be eaten by hordes of the walking dead," Faith said. "Then we'll continue the evolution. Actually. Funk!"

"Ma'am?" the PFC said.

"Front and center! Staff Sergeant, do you think you can manage to get them to totally check fire on a sector?" Faith asked.

The staff sergeant paused in answering.

"Yeah, me neither," Faith said. "Listen up, Marines," she radioed. "I want a one hundred percent check fire on the road leading from the pier.
I
am going to be moving up it."

"Ma'am," Barnard said.

"Gaaawd
damnit
, Staff Sergeant," Faith said, shaking her head. "I did not ask for your
opinion
! I do not
want
your opinion. And I swear to
God
if you inject one more time like some untrained fucking
recruit
I am going to request you be boarded, do you understand me, Staff Sergeant?"

"Yes, ma'am," Barnard said tightly.

"Marines, if you fire on 'movement' on that road, you are going to be shooting
me
," Faith continued. "And since you will not
kill
me, because apparently
nothing
can kill me, the penalty
will
be
severe
when I come walking
back
down that road."

"Is she
nuts
?" PFC Haroldson asked.

"At ease, Marine," Weisskopf snarled.

"The purpose of this is to demonstrate that infected are not the problem you're all thinking they are,"
Faith radioed.
"I will proceed up the road with Funk to the edge of the light. There we will probably be able to attract some zombies and have some fun. Check fire. Check fire. Let
us
handle them."

If the Army and the Navy
Ever look on Heaven's scenes,
They will find the streets are guarded
By United States Marines.

--Marine Corps Hymn

"You ready to go, Funk?" Faith asked, stepping up onto the pier.

"Yes, ma'am," Funk said tightly.

"Staff Sergeant," Faith said. "Just this once,
please
do your job and ensure that my Marines do not frag me."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Barnard said.

"Funk, unload your weapon," Faith said.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Funk said. He jacked the round out of his weapon.

"You have to
drop your magazine first
, Marine," Faith said. "Drop your magazine."

"Confirmed infected in west sector," Sergeant Hocieniec radioed.

"Roger, Hooch," Faith said. "Scrum it, over."

"Scrum it, aye," Hocieniec replied.

"Second Squad, check fire," Hocieniec said. "Check fire, check fire. Smitty, scrum that motherfucker."

"Scrum that motherfucker, aye," Sergeant Chris Smith said, standing up and drawing a tactical knife. "If any of you fuckers shoot me in the back I will shoot you in the
head
."

The infected had closed to the edge of the light and was now dodging through the shadows, apparently unsure what was going on at the beach. Without a pack of its fellow zombies, some shred of self-preservation had kicked in.

Smith walked up to the edge of the beach and took a crouch.

"Come on, zombie," Smith said, waving to it. "Come to papa."

The zombie, driven by hunger, charged and Smith caught it with a hip roll, throwing it over his hip and onto the sand of the beach. He followed it down with his full weight and drove the Gerber into its eye.

"The problem with that technique is getting your knife out," Smith said, putting his foot on the zombie's head and wrenching at the bloody knife.

"Hey, Smitty, you got more incoming," Hooch said, grinning.

Faith had, meanwhile, strolled up the road with PFC Funk.

"Zombies cannot even begin to harm you until they are at arm's length, PFC," Faith said. She had her radio "open" deliberately this time. "Which was why you wait until they're close, generally, to fire. You hit them that way and you can be sure that they are zombies and not survivors or fellow Marines."

"Yes, ma'am," the Marine said nervously.

"And in this gear, they can't get to you at
all
," Faith said. "Last but not least, they are
not
the walking dead. Are they Corporal Douglas?"

"No, ma'am," Derk yelled.

"So they can be killed in various ways that don't require shooting them in the head," Faith said. "Unless you're using a fucking Barbie gun. In which case...well...check fire, check fire, check fire," she shouted just to be sure.

She'd heard the zombie closing in the darkness. She let it charge and slam into her from behind. She flipped it across her shoulder and onto the ground, then let it have her left arm to bite.

"Notice that he's not gaining an inch," Faith said, drawing her kukri. "Human teeth cannot penetrate this bunker gear. And..." she reached across his arms and chopped downward. There was a spray of arterial blood. "They are
not
hard to kill.

"All Marine personnel will now
unload
their weapons," Faith said, flicking the kukri to clear it of blood and pushing herself to her feet. "Squad and team leaders will assure that they are
unloaded
. Not just on safe. And that goes for all Squad and team leaders. Then the Marines who are from Gitmo will move up to the tree line and engage infected in hand-to-hand while the
Iwo
Marines conduct the class. We will continue this evolution until I call it. Staff Sergeant that includes you."

"Permission to..." Staff Sergeant Barnard said and paused. She'd finally realized that the infected on top of her wasn't going to kill her. But he was massive and incredibly strong. "Okay, what the hell do I do
now
, ma'am?"

"The mistake was letting him get on
top
of you, Staff Sergeant," Faith said. "
And
you're only carrying one knife
and
you let him pin you in such a way as your Ka-Bar is inaccessible. I would suggest using your forty-five. Just put it into his stomach and pull the trigger. Bet you're glad you're wearing a gas mask, huh? That guy's got a heck of a schlong..."

"Discontinue exercise," Faith said. "Any remaining wrestlers,
Iwo
Marines take out the infected. Then everybody
keep
your guns unloaded and huddle up at the base of the pier..."

"The purpose of this exercise was to show you that it really doesn't
matter
how many infected pile up on you," Faith said. She had the
Iwo
Marines out on security while she talked to the "Gitmo" Marines. "The most dangerous thing out here in the dark is us. Yea, though we pretty much literally are going to be walking through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil. Because we are the most dangerous motherfuckers in this valley.

"If you're nervous about getting hit by these infected, you're going to make the mistake that Curran made and we will have more wounded. So don't be nervous. We are God-damned
Marines
and we are
covered
in fucking gear and the only thing that can hurt us
is
us. That and heat stroke so drink! Pay attention to where you're pointing those weapons, keep them unloaded unless we really
need
to fire. I am making an on-the-fly change to the current manning table. We'll do it like choosing teams at dodge ball. Gitmo Marines line up behind the
Iwo
Marines. Except you, Staff Sergeant. You stay with me. And we'll need...Edwards. Can you drive a truck, Edwards?"

"That's my MOS, ma'am," PFC Robert Lee Edwards said.

"Perfect," Faith said. "But before you do that. I'm aware that rank is, like, everything in the Marine Corps. But for the rest of this exercise, Gitmo Marines follow the orders of the
Iwo
Marines, even if the person is lower rank.
Iwo
Marines should try to use proper military courtesy. But...Corporal Rock, you're with Hocieniec. He's in charge, got it? You obey his orders even though you outrank him. Sergeant Hoag, you're with Dutch. Sergeant Weisskopf...Randolph. Now let's sort the rest of it out..."

"Oorah," Faith said. "Now the Navy left us some functional vehicles. I bet they don't have gas, though. So we need to find...seven vehicles and make sure they're full. Otherwise you guys are going to be walking back. We can't 'establish a perimeter' while doing so. And we're going to be muttering around in something of a cluster fuck getting it done. So the only ones who can fire are
Iwo
Marines and by God if you fire without my okay I will make you sorry and sore. So let's go find the cars and get 'em filled up..."

Filling the vehicles, in the dark, was a nightmare. It was a bit that had been overlooked in the planning. There were ten cars in all in the area. The Navy personnel had used five of them. The teams needed two more started. They found two more that would start. Then there was the matter of gas. They had to siphon fuel from the remaining three and spread it around. None of the cars ended up with a full tank of gas. And as they'd found throughout the operations, the gas was usually contaminated.

And they
were
getting hit. The zombies kept trickling in in ones and twos. Which wasn't a huge problem and gave everyone some more training in that fact. However, it sometimes was a bit of an issue. Say, when Lance Corporal Ferguson was siphoning out a car's gas tank and got hit from behind by an infected.

"The good news is, you're in bunker gear," Faith said, chopping the infected on the back of the neck. "But since your ammo would probably cook off if that gas catches, the smoking lamp is
out
."

"Okay, so we also got to reformat the patrol areas," Faith said. "Hooch, take your teams up to the east end of the island past the town. Dutch, you and Sergeant Hoag have between here and the town. Smitty, your teams have from here to the west end of the island. Got it?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Sergeant Smith said.

"Okay," Faith said, sorting through the maps. "So here's your maps and assigned sectors. Dutch, you can probably just drive around the airport real slow, that will give you some range. The rest of you, just drive up and down slow and bring them in, then kill them. I mean, you've seen that it's easy if they ain't swarming. If you shoot,
aimed fire
, people. We're going to be often moving close to each other. We
have
to get every last infected on this island. Every last one. Blow your horns. Play your music loud. Bring them
in
! Understood?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Hooch said.

"Staff Sergeant and I will take the town with the five-ton," Faith said. "If you get in the busy and feel like you can't handle it, call us. Make sure you don't run out of gas. Load up and move out."

"Permission to speak, ma'am," Staff Sergeant Barnard said as they were cruising down Valley Road.

"Speak, Staff Sergeant," Faith said. She was up on the .50 in the lead of the convoy and triggered a burst into an infected in the road. "Go around that so the cars can see it, Roberts. I don't want them getting stuck on a body."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Roberts said.

"A Marine obeys orders, ma'am," Barnard said tightly. "But...why the
hell
are we doing this? It's unsafe, as you've said, and it's--"

"Not in your..." Faith said. "Crap, cannot think of the word. Bucket? You don't get to know. Not now. If something happens, it'll all make sense. If it doesn't...It will hopefully never make sense. Think of it as a training exercise. Which we by God
need
. Any other questions? I've killed a few infected tonight. With a kukri. I'm in a good mood."

"No, ma'am."

"Roberts, this one's too close. Just run her over. Following teams, body in the road. Don't get stuck..."

"Let's just park out here," Lance Corporal "Dutch" Van Rijk said, pulling the car to a stop on the runway of the airport. "We'll crank up the music and climb up on the car in a triangle. That way we can see them coming."

"Roger," Sergeant Hoag said, her jaw clenched. She did not like being under the authority of a fucking lance corporal.

"In deference to your rank, Sergeant, if you've got an iPod you can pick the tunes..."

"Got one," Fumitaka said. "Closing."

"Wait for it to get close," Dutch said, looking over his shoulder. "You don't want the round hitting somebody in the distance."

"Aye, aye," Fumitaka said. He waited until the infected was twenty meters away and fired. And fired again. "It ain't stopping."

"Fucking Barbie guns," Van Dijk said. "Keep shooting."

Fumitaka put seven rounds into the infected, which stopped nearly at his feet.

"Shit," Fumitaka said. "Shit, shit, shit... That
sucked
."

"Try putting five rounds into their chest, fast," Dutch said. "That usually stops them. Or double tap, one to the chest one to the head. If the first one slows them down. Stand by, got one." He waited until the infected, a rather small woman, had closed. He put one round into her chest and another in the head. "That usually gets 'em."

"Usually?" Hoag said. "Shooting them in the
head
doesn't always work?"

"Eventually," Dutch said. "I've seen 'em keep coming even after they've been shot in the head."

"Firing," Hoag said. She put five rounds into the chest in rapid fire and was rewarded with an infected that
wasn't
at her feet. "Yeah, that worked."

"Good training, huh?" Dutch said.

"Good training."

"By the way, Sergeant," Van Dijk said. "With due respect, I like your taste in music."

"Thanks."

"I think we got one chasing us, Sergeant," PFC Jesse Summers said.

"Okay," Hocieniec said, slowing to a stop. "Get out and kill it."

Summers opened the back door of the 1980s Malibu and stepped out into the darkness.

"I swear it was right..." she said as the infected popped up around the back of the car. "Shit!"

She fired two rounds and the infected grabbed her, biting at her neck and shoulders.

"Pistol," Hocieniec said watching from the other side of the car. "Or knife."

The infected suddenly slumped to the ground as "I'm shot in the heart" finally got through to the brain.

"Or you can wait for it to die," Hooch said, shrugging. "That works, too."

He slammed into the car as a big infected hit him from behind.

"Fucker," Hocieniec said, pulling his pistol. He put it into the hip of the infected and pulled the trigger. The zombie let out a howl and fell on the ground, writhing. Two more rounds put it out of its misery. "Okay, everybody pick a sector and let's just see how many come to us..."

"Shewolf, Hocienic, over."

"Go, Hooch," Faith said. They'd stopped the truck and had Barnard and Edwards out as security.

"We got stuck on a dirt road and sort of got swarmed, over."

"Define swarmed, over."

"Uh... You remember Tenerife?"

"Hot diggity dog," Faith said. "HEY, LOAD UP! On our way, Hooch. I don't suppose you know where you are?"

"Sort of..."

"Shewolf,
Annapolis
, over."

"Hear you,
Annapolis
," Faith said as the staff sergeant loaded into the vehicle.

"Our intercept gear says they're up Albert Lake Drive near Long Pond, over."

"Staff Sergeant," Faith said. "Find that. Thanks for the steer,
Annapolis
."

"Good entertainment as always, Shewolf. Sorry to hear about your casualty."

"He'll make it," Faith said. "Somebody told me one time this wasn't a safe job. Pretty sure Goodwin knew that, too."

"Head up to the medical school," Staff Sergeant Barnard said. "That way..."

"Oh, holy shit," Edwards said.

"Now that's what
I
call a concentration," Faith said, gleefully.

The Kia sedan the three Marines had squeezed into was covered in infected. The miracle was that the windows hadn't broken under the weight.