The Search For A Cure (11 page)

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Authors: C. Chase Harwood

Tags: #Amazing and unique zombie series.

BOOK: The Search For A Cure
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Jones sat up with the M240 and pointing it at the hall, expecting the berserker to run out with both guns blazing. But there was nothing; just a mad little laugh and a teasing almost sing song, “
Fuck yououuu
.”

In the bunker next door, they all felt more than heard the grenade go off. It was a dull thump, but it was unmistakably explosive.
 

 
O’Shea yelled up to Preston’s squad still ascending the stairs. “Hold up Squad Three.”

 
Bullock said, “The folks next door are a definitely knocking.”

 
O’Shea pressed the intercom button that was located at the base of the stairs and called outside to Jones, “Specialist Jones?” He waited for five seconds that should have taken Jones to walk over to the external income at the front door. Nothing. “Jones, report.”
 
…Nothing. “Melman, try them on the radio.”

 
“Radio’s not getting any reception down here Cap’n.”

 
“Alright, Sergeant Bullock, hook up with third. Check out the topside. Melman. Man this intercom. See if you can raise anyone next door and keep trying Jones until the boys get upstairs.”

 
Bullock was already putting on his J-LIST and grabbing his rifle to join Preston’s squad. First Squad and the Chinook Pilots readied themselves to follow squad Three if necessary. The scientists sat in silence, unsure of what to do other than keep their mouths shut. It looked like whatever was going on next door had forced O’Shea’s hand. All of a sudden, their internal squabble seemed pointless.

 
At the top of the stairs, Preston unbolted the door and cracked it open slowly. There, on the ground, not more than fifteen feet away, a pack of Fiends were ripping into the flesh of the dead soldiers. Two of them were fighting over a forearm. Several looked up at the movement in their peripheral vision and spotted Preston. The creatures immediately charged. Preston slammed the door shut and bolted it. The Fiends howled and pounded on the steel. “Now we’ve stepped in it,” he said. “Second squad appears to be slaughtered. The door next to us was pulled shut."

 
Jacobus said, "Maybe a few got away and are trying to signal us. You know, earlier with the explosion, banging on the pipes.”

 
The men on the stairs looked aghast at the loss of their brothers. Despite the horrific ongoing conflict and the repeated loss of life, no one was truly prepared for this. These men had been trained for, and had fought major insurgencies – insurgencies, which included enemy and even friendly behavior that was at times remarkably barbaric. None of that compared to witnessing your fellow man being hauled down by other humans and torn limb from limb - feasted upon while screaming out their last breath. It created the kind of nightmares that in the long run could send a man to the loony bin.

 
Bullock asked, “How many you see out there, Corporal?”

 
Nodding at the eight other men on the stairwell, “More than all of our fingers and toes. A lot more.”

 
“Well, this mission is getting complicated.”

 
“Fucked beyond measure, Sergeant.”

 
“Best go down and tell the Captain.”

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