Zombie Theorem (Book 4): Aces Mortis Page 9

  Butch chewed on his upper lip before answering. “I was thinking the same thing,” Butch looked back to Chun and made a sign with his hand to explain he wanted everyone on high alert.

  Butch allowed Hashkeh to take point and he fell in behind him. The Navajo moved with a purpose yet he reacted with the environment like he was attuned to it on a level Butch rarely saw even in the elite men he had led. It was like Hashkeh could feel the battleground, many times he would stop and just kneel, with his eyes closed, then abruptly he would move again. Hashkeh halted again and made a motion for Butch and Chun to both come up to his level.

  “I have been thinking, if our brothers are on this base, the only place I would be if in their shoes is the big NEX Commissary,” NEX stood for Navy Exchange. Chun and Butch spoke quietly to one another debating Hashkeh’s educated guess.

  In the end, they agreed with their teammate, and motioned for the man to lead on. Working through a small parking lot they felt the wind shift, bringing with it two distinct things. First was a stench that hit the team like a physical punch, causing their eyes to tear up and them to gag. It was the smell of death, they knew this smell, had smelled it in numerous battles and carnage houses. But this was something like they had never experienced. It was so strong and had to have come from a large amount of death, on an epic scale. The next thing that came on the wind was a sound that at first was soft but grew into a crescendo the men could not deny. It was a chorus of dead moaning together as one. Hashkeh reached into his pocket and removed his bandana and tied it around his mouth as the rest of the men behind him took his actions in and copied him.

  Hashkeh motioned for the team to stay as he was going to range out on his own to recon. Butch took point and brought his hand out flat palm down and lowered it toward the ground. The men behind as one, dropped to their knees and ratcheted up their senses staying on high alert. Ten minutes passed until Hashkeh came slinking back into the group. He motioned for the men to gather around him.

  “The NEX is under siege. I couldn’t count how many dead things there are, but they seem to number in the high hundreds. Someone must be inside if the dead are trying that hard to get into the building,” he stopped speaking and turned to Chun, the team mirrored his actions and looked over.

  Chun took in a deep breath and then immediately regretted it. The stench invaded his nostrils and climbed down his throat making the meal he ate last try and make an encore appearance. He swallowed the bile as it fought to climb up and evacuate. After a moment, he had it under control and looked to each man. “We came this far to find our brothers and I think we may have done just that. Any suggestions?”

  Lupo grinned predatorily as a wicked plan came to him. He raised his hand and spoke. “I have a plan, not sure how well it will work but what the hell, might as well try something than nothing, huh?”

  Butch slid his gaze over to Lupo. “I am glad you came up with a plan, cause mine was to strip Hootie down, slather him in A1 sauce and make him run by the horde and hope they follow him,” the team broke into quiet laughter, all except Hootie that was.

  “Hey, that’s not very nice, Master Chief. I am going to tell your mother!” he whined.

  “Go ahead, she’s been dead and buried for twenty years, asshole,” Butch smacked him the back of the head.

  Chun shook his head at his men’s playful actions, even in the middle of an apocalypse they joked and acted like children. Deadly armed children who could on their own fight almost any military Special Ops group and probably cause more death and destruction than an entire platoon. “Enough boys, or I’ll take away your toys and make you stand in the corner with your thumbs firmly planted in your asses,” he turned to Lupo. “What’s your plan, Petty Officer?”

  “Easy, if we can’t go through them, we go above them. I say we go back and see if one of those Seahawks can fly and we hop on over and land on that NEX and go through the skylights.”

  Chun nodded his head as he thought about Lupo’s plan. They had all been trained to fly an assortment of Navy aircraft and were sure they could easily fly the big birds. “If you guys have no more plans, I say we try Lupo’s first. If it doesn’t work, we will go with the Master Chief’s idea of sending Hootie out naked as bait,” They turned as one and headed back towards the airfields.

  They came around a large center hangar and headed to the first Seahawk setting up a perimeter around it as Lupo climbed aboard and checked it out. Butch tilted his head as he saw something that intrigued him, hiding just behind the shadow of the big hangar doors. He signaled to Chun that he was going to check something out and detached from the perimeter, walking slow heel to toe, taking small steps so as not to affect his aim if he had to fire in a hurry. His M-4 held tight against his shoulder, barrel moving with his eyes as he scanned his nearby surroundings. He stopped by one of the large doors and gazed into the dark hangar. He couldn’t make out much except the large helicopter sitting just inside. His smile felt like it would rip his cheeks in two with his joy. He reached into his bag and removed his night vision glasses and strapped them onto his head. He pulled them down over his eyes and waited as they powered on and brought his surroundings into an eerie green.

  He moved slowly, checking around him for dangers alive, dead, and perceived. He started to his right and got twenty feet in when he had wished he had brought back up. He stopped when he heard a scraping sound, he waited then felt a hand squeeze his shoulder twice and stay there. He at first thought it was one of those dead things until the hand stayed there instead of pulling and attacking him. He moved forward with a little less apprehension having someone from his team covering his backside. He stopped near the back of the hangar and turned slightly to see who had his six. Dio’s smile greeted him. Butch gave him a thumb’s up and they continued their search. He felt Dio squeeze his shoulder once, calling him to stop.

  Dio’s voice came quietly to his left ear. “Enemy sighted, nine o’clock, low.”

  Butch swiveled his head in that direction and scanned where Dio had seen something. He was about to ask for clarification when he saw what Dio had alerted him to. It was movement on the floor. Slow, but there. Butch dropped his M-4 onto its sling and removed his big bladed weapon and slowly, inch by inch made his way over to the movement. He stopped when he came around a metal table covered in disassembled electronic compartments. He found a man missing his legs, lying on something unmoving and shoving something into its mouth. Butch’s hand motioned for Dio to keep an eye out, and then moved up to the scene unfolding in front of him. He was sickened at the sight confronting him in all its disgusting glory. He thanked God he was seeing this with his Night Vision rather than under the lights. At least he couldn’t discern the full details of what was happening in front of him.

  A sailor, he guessed since it wore the remnants of a uniform, lay on its back, its belly ripped open and its innards scattered around it as well as on its chest. The creature with no legs was dressed in coveralls. It rested its body on top of the corpse and would force its hands deep inside the other and pull out handfuls of organs, tissues, and muscles, then shoved them into its mouth. Chewing and then swallowing, Its entire body was covered in gore. Butch didn’t want to see anymore and lined up his blade for a killing slice. As he was about to cut down, the dead creature’s head swiveled towards him. Butch didn’t waste a moment and swung with all his might, the jolt from his blade slicing into and then, becoming stuck at the other side of the creature’s head, vibrated through his arms and traveled up to his shoulders and neck. He placed his boot on the thing’s shoulder and pulled his blade free. The creature twitched and continued to try and move, Butch was disgusted and upset, he brought his boot up high and stomped down, connecting the heel of his boot into the face and smashing the bones. He did it two more times until it became still. He tilted his head down to the other man and found it had opened its eyes. He felt sorrow and wasn’t sure if the man was still alive or coming back, he didn’t waste a moment he repeated his stomping, still
ing the thing and sending it to wherever these things go when they died for a final time.

  Dio came up and spoke quietly. “Movement, over near those metal cabinets,” They made their way through the hangar checking the floor and surroundings for any other movement.

  They came to the cabinets and stopped. Dio stepped back and dropped his M-4 on its sling, snapping his 1911 from his chest holster, aiming it at the cabinet doors. Butch copied his movements and drew his own sidearm. He brought up his fingers and counted down from three. When he got to one he reached out and turned the handle pulling the door out and back in one swift movement, stepping back and out of the way of Dio’s sight picture. The cabinet was empty. They continued the same routine with the next three, finally coming to the last in the row. As Butch yanked on the door, he felt resistance, not taking no for an answer, he put his muscular frame and weight into it, dragging the door open. A woman shrunk back as far as she could into the cabinet, letting out a short-lived scream. She wore a pair of coveralls that identified her as a mechanic or one of the several flight support personnel it took to keep the aircraft flying. Her brown hair tucked up into her cap, she tried to hide her face with her hands and shook with fear.

  Butch motioned for Dio to move into a defensive posture. With that done, he lowered his 1911 and slid it home into his chest rig. He put his hands up in calming motion. “Ma’am, I am Master Chief Butch Barth, Seal Team,” he stopped not sure if he was allowed to announce his team designation. “I am an East Coast Seal, we fought our way here from Nevada. Can you please tell me what’s going on here?”

  The woman, could not see Butch in the dark, but he saw her fine in his night vision glasses. He put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her out gently from the cabinet. “I am Petty Officer first class, Pauline MacLeod. I am a structural mechanic for the Seahawks. I’ve been hiding in this damn hangar for close to a week, Master Chief. Thank you for saving me!” a sob broke from her chest and her legs shook. He didn’t think she had enough energy to walk out of the hangar herself.

  He pulled her into a hug then lifted her into his arms. “Shh. It’s all okay now MacLeod, I got you,” he looked to Dio and saw the acceptance on his face. “Dio, lead the way, then get Hashkeh to help you clear the rest of this place.”

  “Aye, aye, Master Chief,” he pivoted on the balls of his feet and led Butch and his charge to the front of the hangar and the light that poured in.

  Rascal’s eyes grew big when he saw Butch carry out a woman in his arms. He had been guarding the entrance to the hangar as the rest of the team worked on the Seahawk they had found. He left his position and ran to Butch, he held out his arms and took her from him. “I got her Master Chief, she looks dehydrated. I’ll start a saline drip, just so happen to have found one in that helo,” he took her and trotted to the aforementioned helo that was being worked on.

  “Send Hashkeh and Lupo back,” Butch said to his retreating form.

  “Aye, Aye.”

  Butch watched as the team hopped around, helping the woman Rascal materialized with. They took her into the helo and started work on her as Hashkeh and Lupo came out, heading over to Butch. “Help Dio clear that Hangar, Lupo,” Lupo took off at a jog and disappeared with Dio back into the darkened Hangar. “Hashkeh, come with me, I need your strong back.”

  Hashkeh followed a step behind Butch as he entered the hangar’s awning opening. They stopped in front of what looked like a highly-modified Seahawk. Hashkeh stopped in his tracks and admired the lines of the helo. “Is it just me? Or is that a Firehawk?” Hashkeh asked in astonishment.

  “I think it is, but the lines are slightly different and look at the modifications on the engine cowls, the stubby wings look to have different hard points, and it looks to have a modified FLIR on front with the sensor package. We inserted last year in a Firehawk during that oil platform take down, this one looks different. Feel like helping me tow it outside?”

  Hashkeh rolled his shoulders and looked around for a tow bar. Butch put his hand on his shoulder. “There is a tow barge right there, grab it, fire it up, and hook up the tow hooks. I am going to find a battery cart.”

  As Butch poked around the hangar, he heard the soft whine then chug of the tow barge firing up and moving into place. Butch found the cart he was looking for and muscled it into the walkway and pushed it toward the hangar doors. He stopped when he heard a rustling sound behind him. He pivoted on his heels and dropped to a knee, bringing his 1911 up and before he had a clear sight picture, he fired two shots into where he figured the things chest would be. It stopped in its tracks for a moment and stiffened, Butch then fired two quick shots, hitting the shape in the head snapping it back and then the whole body collapsed to the ground. Butch breathed slowly, letting his body relax, as he swiveled his eyes back and forth searching for more targets. He heard more rustling but held his fire when he heard “Aces,” then a shadow emerged into the light showing Lupo with his weapon held high.

  “Been tracking that damn thing since we entered, but it seemed to be moving behind things and I could not get a clear shot. Sorry Master Chief.”

  “No worries Lupo, get back in there and finish clearing this place,” Butch ordered.

  Lupo stepped backwards and back into the darkness of the hangar and disappeared. Butch took a moment and then stood back up before holstering the 1911, pulled the magazine and replaced it with a full one he pulled from one of his various pockets. He continued pushing the power cart to the doors just as Hashkeh had started pulling the massive helo outside. They moved the cart and helo near the Seahawk Chun was currently using as his command base. Hootie stuck his head out the door of the Seahawk and whooped out.

  “Holy shit, Master Chief! Where in Valhalla did you find a Firehawk?” He looked it over a little. “Someone has been making changes to that thing.”

  Pauline sat up at the edge of the helo she had been lying in. IV attached to her arm, she already looked a little bit better. Amazing what fluids and a couple of protein bars could do for you. Oh and of course not having a constant fear of being eaten alive helps too. She said something to Chun who was sitting next to her, propping her up with his arm. He nodded and smiled, then handed her off to Rascal.

  Chun disembarked from the helo and made his way over to Butch and Hashkeh as they admired the bird. “Pauline there, says this is her bird. She had been tasked to work on this Firehawk. Get this, she was modifying it for her friends in the Seal teams here. She was making it more powerful, quieter, and packed with a variety of new sensors and weapons. She calls it her Dragonhawk,” he ran his hand down the side of the craft.

  “Good enough for me, Lt. Let’s put as much firepower on the damn thing as we can and get it in the air. Our brothers need us.” Hootie spoke up.

  “For once, I agree with the moron,” Butch slid an arm around Hootie’s shoulders.

  “Hey thanks Master Chief, we should hang out more often,” Hootie started flapping his lips again until Butch flexed his mighty bicep cutting off the air to Hootie.

  “Don’t fucking ruin the moment,” he let go of Hootie and made his way over to where Pauline was watching the scene unfold.

  “Where are the weapons? We need to get this thing armed and in the air ASAP.”

  “Give me a minute and I will be happy to help you get the Dragonhawk ready to fight. In the meantime,” she handed him a card from inside her coveralls. “This is my access card to the weapons locker in the back of the hangar. Access code is four nine six six two. Once inside, off to the left is a red roped off section. That is the weapons and ammo designated for my project. Just roll it out here and bring the big blue rolling tool cart out. Has my name stenciled on it,” she sat heavily against Rascal.

  “You relax, Petty officer. We will do the heavy lifting,” Butch turned and started firing off orders, and stopped when he came face to face with Chun. “Sorry, Lt I do not mean to step on your toes.”

  Chun kept eye contact but yelled out to his men. “You heard the Master C
hief,” he looked down to the card in Butch’s hand. “I take it you are going to lead this project?”

  “If you are okay with that, Sir.”

  Chun gave him a smirk. “Get your ass moving, Master Chief. We don’t have time for petty command problems.”

  Butch being the ass he was, came to attention and snapped off a crisp salute. “Aye, aye, Lt.”

  Chun looked him over and returned his salute. Turning his head, dismissing the man. He made his way over to the Dragonhawk and climbed aboard. He sat in the pilot seat and familiarized himself with its controls and differences that he wasn’t used to. He was pretty sure he could fly the thing. It would be easier with Lupo in the co-pilot seat, but was sure he would do fine. He flipped on the aux power switch and watched the fuel gauges climb slightly from their empty positions to show a quarter of fuel remaining. He switched the power off and climbed back out onto the tarmac. He stretched his back as he turned in circles looking for a fuel truck. He didn’t see one and made his way over to Pauline.

  “Petty Officer MacLeod, where do I find a fuel truck?”

  She looked at him for a moment as she thought. “There should be a couple over by the fuel dump. There was one by the hangar last time I was outside,” she pointed out where the fuel dump was and bit into another protein bar Rascal handed to her. Chun patted her knee and thanked her for her help. He turned, looking for a someone to accompany him on his little adventure, but then remembered the team was busy with other duties. He hunched his shoulders in defeat.