World of Ashes II (9 page)

“Haven’t you seen these things before?” Daniel said in bewilderment. “They die, and then they come back. Don’t look at me like I’m retarded. They get the fuck back up and keep coming until you put one in their fucking skull! What fucking rock have you been hiding under, you fucking assface?”

“In the rear with the g-

A gun shot at point blank.

Daniel jumped backward by reflex and fell off the LMTV when a large black man in a sweat and dirt covered light purple suit, brandishing a chrome plated Desert Eagle, (as if the stereotype of a pimp could get any worse), shot Macon in the neck. Both of them landed on the steel deck behind the truck, Macon already dead and partially decapitated, Daniel had the wind knocked out of him yet again. He looked over at Macon through tears of pain and saw him lying in his own blood while it poured through the grated metal into the water. There was absolutely nothing anyone could ever have done for him with a wound like that.

The shooter ran past them, possibly used to shooting his way through roadblocks by now, and didn’t bother to stop and see what he had done, or finish Daniel off. Who could be indifferent to shooting a Soldier, those who were trying to protect them? Daniel sucked down air, finally, and reached for his rifle. He couldn’t let the man get to the wounded on the other side, who knew how many more he might kill. His left arm numb from landing on it, Daniel aimed with only his right hand and pulled the trigger, hoping for luck. The rifle bucked from his hand and clattered to the deck, but so did the man who’d killed Macon. Pulling himself to his feet, Daniel looked at what he’d done with the trucks. The other Soldiers and Airmen were holding the far end of the bridge, and his end was blocked for all but a narrow slit, a perfect choke point for when the undead massed. A child with a stick could hold them off now.

From the relatively safe bastion of the rusty old bridge the survivors watched in complete silence as the larger bridge became the scene of an unimaginable slaughter just a few hundred feet from them. People fought among themselves as well as with the undead, both slow and raging. Some of the cars were set on fire, the flames so high the blacktop began to melt. No one who was still up there would still be alive at that point, the fire was so intense you had to shield your face to look at it.

The Army regrouped in the next hour and came back with an organized front, which was quickly overwhelmed and devoured again. Those left in armored vehicles began firing into the crowds, shooting anything that moved and then shooting it again. Minutes after everyone on the new bridge was truly dead the Air Cavalry landed a company of men in riot gear behind the traffic snarl. They had fewer riflemen and more people with what looked like spears straight out of the Roman army than anything. They established a beachhead and started pushing the slower ones away, stabbing most in the face from a relatively safe distance. The ragers were shot by the riflemen before they got too close. Finally, a somewhat effective strategy for dealing with the undead.

The people on the small bridge watched through the night as the fight raged on for the tiny West Virginia town on Cheat Lake. Someone in command recognized there were Green Tag people on the old bridge and sent a unit to retrieve them as the tide of the battle turned. The men who came for them were in a huge hurry, and understandably so. They didn’t want to take any of the wounded, but Sergeant Graystone got in their faces and they relented. They were human too, after all, they just needed to be reminded of that.

Kaylee’s fingernails dug into Daniel’s neck while he carried her past Macon’s body. No one had bothered to pick him up, or even move him. There were a lot of dead people on the ground now, his face just blurred into theirs as Daniel focused on following the man in front of him. Though he’d been an asshole, Macon was still someone’s son, and they were never going to see him alive again. Would Daniel’s mother and father ever see him again? There was no time to think about that. The noise of the helicopters was only slightly worse than the heat from their turbines, blowing hot air and dust into everyone’s eyes just as they got close enough for the tail rotors to be a threat. The noise was deafening, Kaylee was crying, probably everyone wanted to cry now.

The lines began to crumble on the far side of the bridge, men falling back or being torn apart when the strategists’ plan started to be overwhelmed. A rager made it as far as the loading hatch of the Chinook Daniel was on before the crew chief shot him in the face with his sidearm. The pilot had had enough and lifted the refugee and troop laden chopper into the sky. To everyone’s horror bullets pinged off the choppers, people still on the ground didn’t appreciate being left behind and someone inside the bird was nicked by shrapnel, Wendy climbing over people in the chopper to help. Lots of good men and women were being left behind these days, it violated the very core of the Soldier’s Creed, “I will never leave a fallen comrade.” There just wasn’t a choice anymore. Perhaps in time they could come back, but now it was a different world. There was a real chance that someday soon there may be no one left to bury the dead, but until then, we fight.

Only after the flight of helos had made it over the next line of rolling hills did anyone breathe a sigh of relief. Hollywood had it wrong about helicopters though, they’re so loud you can’t even have a conversation with yourself, let alone with someone else. They rode it out in silence, everyone licking their wounds and praying, hoping the next time they touched down there would be no infected to attack them. Some prayers
are
answered and after only half an hour that seemed like too brief a respite the squadron touched down in a riverfront park as dark really set in. Army tents and FEMA trailers were everywhere, it was amazing the pilots found room to set down amidst it all. Needing to refuel, the choppers were shut off, everyone unloaded and joined queue lines to be sorted. Nobody rioted this time, they were too tired and too few, just grateful anyone came for them at all. Sergeant Graystone took Daniel and Kaylee to this new checkpoint’s medical center, avoiding the FEMA and Red Cross workers and going straight to two Navy Corpsmen running blood work in the next tent over.

“Excuse me, which checkpoint is this?” She asked them.

“You’re in Paden City, West Virginia. We’re right on the border with Ohio, Sergeant.” The female Corpsman said. She was wearing the Navy’s new digital green uniform, a marked improvement over the blue and black cammo they were sporting before. Apparently when that uniform had been sent to the fleet, the idea was that if you fell in the water you
stayed
there.

“Do either of you know where they’re quartering displaced military?”

“There’s a transitional tent on the other side of the parking lot. If you hurry you can beat the civilians and flight crews to it. Be warned though, there is no separate tent for men and women, we just don’t have the room for that right now. I’m sure you can see for yourself we’re stretched awfully thin, so keep a gun handy.” The male responded. He put down his work and stood to stretch. “I gotta use the head anyhow. I can show you. There’s showers and fresh uniforms in the MWR tent if you need them.”

“That would be nice.” Graystone looked down at her blood stained ACUs, even her brown combat boots were brick red. “Have there been any infected cases here?”

“No live ones yet. There’s corpses a’plenty in the morgue though. We have patrols on the water for refugee boats and armored checkpoints on the roads. On the other side there’s an Ohio National Guard camp, so we have protection there too.”

“These things don’t use roads ya know.” Daniel said, interrupting them. “They’re not
alive
, not anymore. They can’t possibly be. I’ve seen them trailing their own guts, their blood turned to jelly. There’s no reason to think of them as a conventional or sentient enemy with the same needs and wants as us. They’re like animals, only worse. A force of fucking nature that never rests.”

“Yeah… Are you feeling okay?” The male asked, patronizing Daniel by putting the back of his hand on Daniel’s forehead.

“I wish he were lying.”

The Sailors eyed Sergeant Graystone, unsure why an NCO would back such a stupendous tale. “The CDC says it’s like rabies and a bad meth high combined. We’re working on a vaccine, it should prevent new cases within two weeks. They also think it’s man-made, so there has to be a way for the people who created it to inoculate themselves. It’s simply a matter of reverse engineering the virus.” The Sailor said, thinking he was very smart.

“It won’t take them two weeks to get this far.” Daniel handed Kaylee a bottle of water that was chilled in a minifridge. The small white box still had sand caked in the corners, and stencils marking it as the former property of a dozen different units over the years. It had probably come back with a lot of equipment from the sandbox in recent months.

“Do torso shots really not stop them?” The female asked, being a little more open to what was going on than her counterpart.

“Depends on the round.” Daniel said. “I wouldn’t bother shooting one with a .22, that’s for sure. Probably just piss it off even more. You’re going to see them soon, Petty Officer, but I’ve personally seen that there are in fact two phases to it. The rage phase, and the zombie phase. The victims are extremely lethal in both. I saw my… friend… turn in less than a minute.” Daniel searched their faces for comprehension and saw only disbelief and fear. “Ya’ll really don’t know, do you?”

“Look, sir, you’re going to have to stop spreading panic. And don’t admit to shooting anyone, for God’s sake.” The female said, taking up their defense before her friend made them all feel two feet tall again. “We have a brig full of vigilantes. The Army has MP’s guarding them, the civilian police are stretched thinner than us.”

“Is anyone having better luck than us?” Wendy asked.

“No. Iran and North Korea declared war on us for it though, we nuked them both yesterday, so I guess there is no more Iran or North Korea… and Russia is threatening England if they don’t shut down civilian air traffic and help Russia’s air force patrol the skies. Japan is under self-imposed quarantine and have shot down anyone trying to get in, they’re threatening to use their home guard to wipe out anything that floats off the Vietnam coast. Rather than uniting, we’re all very much at each other’s throats.” Mr. Sailor rattled off like he was a news caster. His attitude wasn’t going to get him anywhere when the zombies got there.

They heard a gunshot in the distance, the two Sailors jumped a little. “Chill, that was across the river at least.” Daniel said, “You didn’t grow up in a rural area, did you?”

“Cleveland.” The man said. “I’m not really into hunting or shooting…”

“Should have picked duty on a ship then.” Daniel said, both of the Sailors agreed that they wished they had.

They followed the male, Petty Officer Clark, to the tent and settled onto a couple of cots that were missing the metal ends. Army cots are always missing the end poles, there’s a debate as to whether or not they even make them. Kaylee would be comfortable, but she was small. Everyone else in the tent was asleep, passed out from complete exhaustion and paid no attention to them or the noise they made. It smelled terrible in the tent too, as if no one else had availed themselves of the showers just around the corner. Who could blame them though? When you are that tired nothing sounds so good as sleep.

Wendy was asleep on her lopsided cot before Daniel could even find a blanket for Kaylee. Covering them both up with the same itchy green wool blanket everyone in the Army suffered with, Daniel felt safe leaving Kaylee next to their new companion. He left the M4 for them just in case, wrapping the sling under Wendy’s arm so nobody could steal it. By himself now, Daniel went to the MWR tent to see if he could get some new clothes. An MP stopped him outside the tent, demanding that civilians go to a different area. Daniel showed the MP his military ID and explained he was displaced National Guard. The Specialist let him go in, commenting as they parted that if he didn’t think he’d get court martialed for it he’d trade his beat up looking service pistol for Daniel’s chrome plated M9. Mark had had a flair for the bling, no accounting for taste in effective firearms though. Maybe he
should
trade before someone tried to steal it.

It had been a long time since Daniel had given any real thought to Mark, their time together had been so brief. He couldn’t even remember where the man had sat on the plane, though it had probably been first class. The people in the MWR tent, (Morale Welfare and Recreation), were happy to give Daniel a choice of either surplus gray Army Combat Uniforms, or flat-tan BDU’s contractors were in the habit of wearing overseas. He took the tan BDU’s, not having any nametapes to put on the regular uniforms. This way he also might be able to pull off getting back to
his
unit without getting drafted by another. Daniel still wasn’t sure he wanted everyone knowing he was military yet, but these people were still in the Green Zone, they’d treat him differently if they knew he was one of them.

Down the line at the other side of the tents Daniel found the path to the promised showers. He couldn’t imagine how bad he smelled until he dropped his dirty clothes. He was treated to knowing what it smelled like to be in Basic Training again. Pure swamp-ass. There was no point in washing his dirty clothes, the blood would never come out. He wanted to throw up, the images of his friends, his parents, everyone he’d ever loved turned to undead rot rushing through his mind on a movie reel he couldn’t stop.