Zombie Theorem (Book 4): Aces Mortis Page 12

  His radio came to life. “Dragonhawk one, Kevorkian and the gas passers are ready to do a drive by of the commissary. Want to come down and help us draw these meat bags away from our brothers in arms? Over.”

  Chun answered by dropping low again, almost into the parking lot of the horde. He hovered getting most of their attention, then nudged his throttle forward, moving west. The fuel trucks appeared from behind a small coffee shop and headed towards the leftover horde to catch as many of the creatures that had not been drawn off by Chun. Kevorkian drove the lead truck and he had his window down, screaming obscenities into the horde. Whenever he was mad, the Russian accent his parents passed onto him came out clear and loud. “Come on you fucking rotting meat bags. Schas po ebalu poluchish suka, blyad!” he swore as he went by. Letting his Russian fly.

  The two other trucks kept close by and they siphoned off a good amount of the dead things. They drove barely above five miles per hour and had to stop frequently to let the horde catch up, one issue was the horde being led away by the Dragonhawk would turn around and come back toward the trucks. Making driving around them become somewhat of an issue. When they arrived at the golf course, they drove onto the grass and out onto the fairway. They accelerated to pass the horde in front of them and then turned and circled around them, backtracking the way they had come. Chun kept the Dragonhawk hovering over the horde, trying to keep their attention fixated on him. He watched as they raised their grey and bloodied hands into the air, as if they could tear the helicopter down from the sky. Their mouths opening wide and then snapping closed again. At this altitude, he could make out some of the injuries on the creatures and was amazed at how they could still be standing, walking, and feeding. Chun looked up and saw the fuel trucks moving into position, parking close to each other in line. He watched the three Seals jump out of the cab and start running back towards the commissary, looking for cover from the chaos Chun was about to deliver down upon the dead things.

  Chun armed a Hellfire missile and gained altitude to protect himself from the coming conflagration. He locked up on the middle truck and hit the release button on his panel. The Hellfire leaped off its rail and shot out rocketing upward, gaining altitude before arcing over and powering into the truck. The explosion was so bright and intense that Chun was momentarily blinded and had to act quickly to stabilize the Dragonhawk from crashing into the trees, from Chun’s momentary loss of control. He gained more altitude and was amazed he never saw or heard the other two trucks go off. It was as if the explosions were ignited as one. Chun had to keep blinking his eyes to get rid of the red and yellow fireworks exploding in his vision.

  Chun circled the raging fire that was engulfing everything around it, including the creatures who had been standing close to the explosion and the ones who had been splashed by the jet fuel as the tanks exploded outward. He had never seen anything like that and he had been in the middle of bomb runs and watched as AC-130 gunships delivered hell to the enemy soldiers his men and he had been encircled by. Chun moved out of the fire and to a spot he could land and pick up the three Seals as they emerged from their hiding spots.

  Kevorkian came up front and sat in the co-pilot seat, slipping on the headset there. “Holy shit! That was amazing, something I need to remember for future needs.”

  Evans and his two companions pulled their buses up to the commissary front doors and jumped out, there were a couple of stragglers they needed to deal with before the residents of the big building could come out and board the buses. Weeks removed a shovel from his back, he had sharpened the spade to a razor point and shortened the wooden handle, making it easier to swing. Evans stuck to a wooden baseball bat he had been using since they entered the commissary. The other Seal, a large bear of a Mexican man, named Gamboa, swung a fire axe he had liberated from an abandoned fire truck he had come across on his way to the commissary. The three made quick work of the dozen or so dead things. The Seals learned quickly if they moved fast, they could trip up the creatures and knock them off balance and finish them when they hit the ground. When they were done and standing in the dark of the parking lot, a large explosion ripped through rapidly darkening sky lighting up the base in an eerie light. The looked as one to the west and observed a large fireball rise up into the sky.

  “I guess that was the plan coming to a head, huh?” Weeks asked rhetorically.

  “Bet your culo it is.” Gamboa muttered.

  The front doors cracked open and beams of light lit up the parking lot and buses as Butch led the rest of the Seals out into the darkening sky. They carried lights and shined them outward, watching for danger as the unarmed men and women came pouring out the doors holding boxes of supplies and beelining straight into the buses. Butch patted Weeks on the shoulder.

  “We ready to get this field trip on the road?”

  “Make sure we have chaperones on each bus, us drivers don’t want to have to deal with those fucking kids yelling and screaming and throwing shit.”

  “Right, we have adults in each bus. Anyone cause a problem, they can get out and walk,” Butch smiled.

  “Alright, let’s get moving,” Weeks twirled his right index finger in the air, signaling for his men to move out.

  From load up to the buses pulling out took less than ten minutes, they left the bulk of the supplies in the commissary hoping that the Reagan had been completely supplied. They rattled out of the parking lot and followed the road paralleling the water and curved to the right and then a straight shot to their destination. Commander Langham made her way to Butch. “When we hit the dock, we need to secure a path straight to the engine room, Chief Petty Officer Adams and our Nuclear Engineer Petty Officer First Class Pepper need to get to work ASAP. Or we are not going anywhere,” she put her hand on Butch’s shoulder.

  “Aye, aye, Sir. Consider it done.”

  “I never did like Navy tradition of calling all officers Sir no matter their gender.”

  Butch gave her a sly grin. “That’s an affirmative, Ma’am,” he growled.

  “I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship,” Langham reached up and scratched the big man’s beard.

  “He’s spoken for, ma’am,” Pauline spoke up from her seat next to him.

  Langham turned her smile on Pauline. “No problem, Petty Officer First Class Macleod. I prefer pretty things like you,” she winked.

  Pauline blushed from the comment and reached out taking Butch’s hand. He, of course, let out a belly laugh that scared some of the people in the back of the bus.

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell, Ma’am,” came from Lupo who was sitting across the aisle with Hashkeh.

  Langham turned her attention to him. “That shit was abolished a long time ago, where the hell have you been?”

  Hashkeh answered dead panned. “Sneaking, peeking, and killing, Commander.”

  “Like my big Navajo friend just said,” answered Lupo.

  “Oh boy, I always wanted my very own one track thinking attack dogs,” Langham laughed, clapping her hands together.

  The bus came to a stop and Weeks stood up in the aisle. “Time to move people. Coast looks clear but stay together and let the big dangerous men with guns deal with any issues that creep up. If they direct you to do something, don’t waste time, follow orders immediately. Your lives are in our hands. Got it?” he announced in his best drill sergeant voice.

  “My people will follow your men’s lead. Don’t worry about that,” answered Langham. She then motioned for two women behind her to come forward. She pointed to them and then to Butch. “Stay in this man’s back pocket. If he stops and drops his britches, you better be handing out the tp. Understood?”

  The two women nodded their heads and together announced. “Aye, aye, Commander.”

  Butch cocked his head and tried to hide a little grin. “Got that from a movie?”

  “My daddy liked military movies. What can I say, I have always wanted to say that! They will follow your commands, I promise that, Mast
er Chief,” she matched his grin.

  Weeks disembarked from the bus and raised his HK MP-7 scanning the dock and side streets. He waved to Hashkeh who had stayed on the bus stairs. Hashkeh, climbed down and held his M-4 to his shoulder, copying Weeks movements. Once they found the area clear, they moved forward and waited for the group to get off the bus. As more people disembarked, Hashkeh and Lupo moved quickly to the gangway leading to the carrier. They secured it and waited as Weeks and one of his Seal brothers climbed on board and cleared the entryway. All thoughts of saluting the flag, which was Navy tradition when boarding or disembarking a ship at sea, as they made entryway was forgotten.

  The Seals secured each section as they brought on their charges from the buses. Before moving up and out, securing the next section. They continued this way until Butch selected Lupo and another Seal from Team one to follow him and Chief Petty Officer Adams and Nuclear Engineer Petty Officer First Class Pepper, who’d stuck to his ass like they were in love with it. He set the two women in the middle with him as Lupo took point and the big, hulking Seal nicknamed Thor by his brothers, who did look a lot like the Norse God, except for the missing long blonde locks, took rear security. They moved quickly down the passageways, making a beeline for the engine room and control stations. The eerie quietness was starting to get to Lupo as he moved quickly, swinging his barrel left and right stopping only to close hatches and dog them. They could be cleared later, once they were steaming away.

  Lupo stuck his hand up and closed his fist and motioned with the flat of his hand for the others to get down. He waited for a moment, listening intently to the quietness for a sound he thought he had heard. He was about to shake it off and move on when he heard it again. It was a scratching sound, coming from ahead and to his right, or the port side of the ship. He put his hand up by his ear and made a motion for them to stay put. He dropped his gun onto its sling and pulled his wicked machete from a scabbard off his back. He stayed low and duck walked forward, stopping and listening every five feet. He came to an open hatch and waited until he heard the sound again. He didn’t have any batteries for his night vision glasses and kicked himself for not replacing them with the fresh pack he had grabbed from the commissary, like they had been doing religiously with their radios. He activated a small LED light attached to his vest and moved so it lit the compartment up. Something moaned softly, confirming what he thought. He waited in the passageway, having no wants to enter, he would make the thing come to him.

  He slowed his breathing and took control of his senses, pushing them out so he could anticipate when the creature made its move. He then heard something scratch and then slide towards him. He repositioned his light to show the deck of the compartment. That is when he saw the thing coming towards him. A man dressed in bloody coveralls using its arms to reach forward and then drag its body forward, leaving behind it a trail of human refuse and blood. When it reached the lip to the hatch, Lupo brought his machete down hard and fast, embedding it into the creature’s hairless head. It stopped like a switch had been thrown and laid there. Lupo did the one thing he had always tried not to do. He examined the body, cataloging every bloody detail his eyes witnessed. The creature had been a man at one point, if the muscular build told Lupo anything. He had no wants to flip the thing over and witness the front mess. He scanned the back and legs of the man and noticed a big chunk of cloth, flesh, and muscle had been torn free from the creature’s left calf. As he worked his way back up towards the back, he saw why the creature had not been standing. Its back had been broken. He could see where something had fallen on its back, dislodging the spine and bulging upward and out. He wiped the blade of his machete on the thing’s coveralls. Lupo tried to shake the image away but knew it would be with him for a while. He used his boot to push the body back and reached in, pulling the hatch closed and dogged it tight.

  Butch moved forward with his two charges still glued to his backside. He met Lupo’s eyes and saw the horror in them. “You alright, Lupo?”

  “Yeah, Master Chief. Let’s keep moving. Only a couple more passageways to go and then down two decks,” he turned and slid his Machete back into its scabbard on his back, picked up his M-4 and continued on down the passageway. Nothing else tripped his senses, as he continued to lead the way. Every open hatch he came to, he made sure to close and dog. They moved down the ladders two decks and came to a dogged hatch. He moved to the side as Thor came up, in his hands an M-1014 automatic tactical shotgun. Lupo undogged the hatch and pushed it open, standing back quickly and out of the way as Thor stepped over the lip of the hatch and entered the large expansive room, shotgun up and ready. As he moved forward, Lupo stepped in and covered the Starboard side of the room as Thor continued to move to the port side. Butch kept his two charges back and behind his M-4, pushing them against the wall. It took Thor and Lupo five long minutes to clear the compartment. After getting the all clear, Butch pushed the women in front of him and into the compartment, before stepping in himself, closing the hatch and dogging it closed.

  “Alright ladies, we got you here. Now it’s your turn,” he turned and watched as they ignored him. Moving straight to their consoles.

  They spoke to each other and worked through checklists and folders they pulled from a small bookcase nearby. Butch, Lupo, and Thor stood nearby, waiting to see if they needed help. They spoke about timetables and formulas and status of the reactor. The only thing Butch could understand is that the reactor was running at optimum levels and they were ready to go.

  As Butch and his two charges disappeared down passageways heading towards engineering, Weeks and Hashkeh led the rest of the group up to the main deck and over to the Island superstructure. He directed some of his Seals to keep the crew on the deck and secure them as he and others cleared the island and bridge. Weeks, Gamboa and Hashkeh entered the Island and worked their way through the passageways, finding nothing, they closed compartment hatchways and dogged them. When they arrived on the bridge, they found two bodies lying on the ground. Gamboa was about to dispatch them with his baseball bat until Hashkeh stopped him by grabbing his bat.

  “They are breathing, I haven’t seen others do that before,” he dropped to his knee and examined the two bodies for injuries and bites. Except for being malnourished and skinny, they seemed unharmed. Hashkeh stuck a hand out and shook one of them. An older man dressed in civilian clothing, looked like it had once been an expensive suit.

  The man slowly opened his eyes and tried to move quickly away from the big man with dark eyes kneeling over him. “Oh, please no!” he cried out.

  The other man dressed in his once clean white uniform of the day opened his eyes and moaned. Hashkeh responded quickly snapping his handgun out and pressed it against the man’s forehead. “Say something!” he commanded.

  “Please.” The younger man squeaked out.

  Hashkeh holstered his gun and looked over the two men. “I am Petty Officer Hashkeh, Seal Team,” he stopped talking for a second not sure these men were cleared to know his Team designation. Then he figured all that security shit was out the door the day that the dead came back to life and started eating people like stoned college kids craving munchies. “Team Six. Identify yourselves,” he offered his hand to the older man first and helped him to a shaky standing position. Then helped the younger man.

  “I am a Project Manager for Lockheed, my name is Joshua Jarvis. I was onboard working out a problem with some newly delivered F-35s.”

  The other man looked like he was having issues. Hashkeh reached into his bag and retrieved two bottles of water he had taken from the commissary. He handed them over to the men and watched as they cracked them open and sipped on them. It must’ve taken everything the men had not to drain the bottles. When the younger one looked better, he explained who he was. “I am Lieutenant Mack Hutchinson, call sign Vader. I flew one of the F-35s in, I guess you can call me a test pilot. I have been on the project with Lockheed for a long time with those birds. Can you guys tell us what is going
on?”

  Weeks moved up and handed over two chocolate bars he had snagged from the commissary. The men took them greedily, ripping into them and devouring them quickly. “As far as we have put together, something has raised the dead and made them real hungry for the living. We have been stuck in the Commissary for over a week when Hashkeh and his team arrived, freeing us. We have a crew which we believe can get this flattop moving. I’ll fill you in on the rest in a moment,” Weeks moved to the walkway outside and looked down to the crew huddled together. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle.

  The Seals looked up and Weeks motioned them to lead the rest in. In minutes, the bridge filled with sailors. Commander Langham ignored the two men present and got to work filling stations and relaying commands. The phone next to her rang and she picked it up. She listened for a moment and relayed her commands back. She turned to the crew, “First, we need the mooring released. Second, this ship is usually moved by big tugs through the harbor and out to sea. But we do not have that luxury. So, we will be putting our full trust, that Petty Office Third Class Godsey will direct us safely out.”