The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End (15 page)

“Captain Kimberly Barnes, sir.”

Maxwell shook his head. “I don’t believe you heard me correctly,
major
.”

I could see her swallow and jerk her chin up at his words. “Sir, yes sir!” Maxwell returned her salute, then smiled and shook her hand.

“Congratulations, Kim. You’ve earned it.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” We all surrounded Kim, giving her the standard good luck punch on the arm that she deserved. Maxwell gave us a minute, then ordered us to the briefing room.

“Roosevelt, Utah,” Maxwell was saying only moments later, showing a map of the city on the briefing room’s projector. A small town, with only a handful of streets, a high school, and a couple churches.
Could be anywhere in America
, I thought. We all sat at the same tables we had occupied before during another important briefing, and I got a strong sense of déjà vu.

“At 1620 hours local time yesterday, my office was informed of a potential outbreak in the area, based on descriptions of bites and symptoms provided by our contacts at the Centers for Disease Control and elsewhere. At 2347 hours, another report came in, indicating that the infection had spread, as we expected, to several other wounded.

“According to the latest word we have from Roosevelt, there are approximately ten to fifteen walkers active at the moment that they are aware of, all of which have been sealed inside the local hospital.

“Your mission is straightforward: You will airlift into the area, clean out the walkers in the hospital, and mop up any stragglers. The Sheriff’s Office has already been informed that USAMRIID is en route, so you shouldn’t have any problems there.

“The locals been ordered to assist you in any way you need, but primarily they’ve been asked to return people to their homes and see that they stay there. Once the walkers have been neutralized, standard containment measures will follow.”

‘Standard containment’ was the Army euphemism for burning homes and smaller structures, and thoroughly decontaminating larger ones with chemicals that could kill you with even the most minute exposure.

Glad I’m not those guys,
I thought.

He turned off the projector and as the lights came back on, he stood with arms folded. “We don’t believe this is an isolated incident. I’m not authorized to disclose additional intel at this time, but Commander Anderson will be in command of this op, as requested by our new liaison.” Heads turned to look at Gardner, at one side of the room.

He regarded us impassively, as if we were merely bugs… or pawns.

Maxwell continued, “The commander will be recording your op, and this will be reviewed by higher. In this case, that means the Secretary and possibly the president himself, gentlemen. So no fuck-ups, clear?”

As one unit, we shouted “Clear!” loud enough that Mr. Gardner spooked and looked nervous, causing more than one of us to grin. Even Commander Anderson flashed a smile that was just as swift in disappearing.

“Report to the quartermaster for gear, then to the hangar. Wheels up in twenty. Dismissed.” As we filed out, I glanced over at Mr. Gardner, and found him looking at me. Noticing my glance, he shifted his attention to others.

What exactly is he looking for?
I wondered.
Not that it matters; this one’s going by the book if I have to kick every ass in the team — assuming Kim doesn’t do it first.
I could tell from her expression that Kim was thinking the same thing.

We made it to the C-17 Globemaster in seventeen minutes, geared up and ready for action. I whistled as I stepped out of the Humvee, amazed and feeling more than a little tiny next to the gargantuan airplane. The noise from the turning rotors fit the big beast; it was almost unbearably loud as we clambered up the back ramp. Several Humvees were chained to the decking, National Guard logos obvious on their sides.

I noticed Anderson strapped in near Kimberly, and chose a seat close to them. “Good to have you with us, sir,” I said. “We can sure use another experienced hand here.”

He nodded back and grimaced. “Just be glad you don’t have to deal with the bean counters, Blake,” he said, tapping the camera mounted to his helmet.

I chuckled and shook my head. “That’s why you get the big bucks, commander.” He rolled his eyes at me.

Moments later we took off, headed at max speed into the pre-dawn darkness. I glanced over at Kim, but she was studying the briefing materials and the map we’d been given with an intensity I had come to recognize. This was going to be her first ‘real’ action against a serious outbreak, as it would be for the rest of the team, except me. I’d already had my initiation.

Some time later, I awoke suddenly and took a second to get my bearings, and then realized we were still on the plane headed to Roosevelt. I noticed many of the others around me catching cat-naps, except Kim and Commander Anderson, who were having something of an animated conversation.

“So you saw action like this in Central America, sir?” she asked.

Anderson nodded. “SEAL Four was tasked with some anti-narcotic raids deep in the jungle in Panama, a couple hundred klicks east of Panama City. We were trying to get some dirt on Noriega, some sort of proof that he was working both ends against the middle by helping out his dealer friends. Justification for the invasion, you see.” He snorted, shaking his head. “That was one of the few times we actually got good intel that wasn’t corrupted by some asshole wagging his tongue for a few
balboas
.”

“We put in near Mamitimpo and humped it in. About a klick out, we stopped to recon, and what we found was not what we expected. It looked like a war zone before we even got there. We could see the shacks for processing cocaine, or at least what was left of them. We had no idea what we were in for.”

He went on to tell us the details of his sojourn in that far-off jungle in such vivid detail that I could see it as though I’d been there myself.

“I was never so quiet in my life as I was during the hike out of there. It took us more than three hours to make it, and we were scared shitless every step of the way,” said Anderson. I realized yet again that if this man, this gung-ho, never-say-die, I-can-kill-you-seventeen-ways-with-my-thumb career bad-ass was even a little scared of what he had seen, then it was probably okay that I was, too.

“MacMillan was bitten though, wasn’t he?” Kimberly asked.

Anderson nodded and sighed. “He died on the chopper back to JTOC at Fort Sherman. That’s where I met the colonel. Hamish’s body was placed in the morgue and I was held for debriefing. Less than eight hours later, Hamish had reanimated and been put down by the MPs and the base was under lockdown. The colonel debriefed me; he let me know what had happened to Hamish, and why. I didn’t believe him at first, but when he showed me what was left, I understood. I’ve been with him ever since.”

He looked over at me as he stopped, and there was again that unspoken bond between us.
He’s been in the trenches too, and had to kill those he cared about
. I nodded solemnly, a sign of respect from one warrior to another.

I turned to look out the window as we crossed the Rockies, the mountains lit by the early-dawn light. I felt calm; we were well-trained, prepared soldiers with the latest military hardware. It never occurred to me that we might return with fewer friends than when we’d left.

It should have.

Chapter Eight

Roosevelt, Utah

I watched as the big plane roared off down Route 191, five miles east of Roosevelt. As it rose higher, it banked to the northwest, most likely headed for Hill Air Force Base just outside Salt Lake City.

The Humvees were idling in a line headed toward the small town, the barrels of the machine guns glinting dully in the sun.

This early, there wasn’t likely to be any traffic coming west towards the town, and the sheriff and his men had already cordoned off those coming from it. All that was left was for us to get in there and take out the walkers. The other two teams had dispersed to their vehicles, and I joined Kim and Commander Anderson in the first vehicle in line.

As I climbed in, our team leader began barking orders. “All teams, One Alpha Six,” she said. “Prepare to move to assigned positions.” She nodded at the driver, and we began to move west. “Roll out.”

We rumbled down the highway towards the town, checking our weapons and other gear nervously, avoiding at all costs looking each other in the eye. We’d simulated the environment, we’d run the drills, but this was our first live-fire exercise, and it would make or break us as a unit. Each of us needed to deal with that on our own, at least for the moment.

Suddenly we slowed, a sheriff’s deputy waving us through the roadblock. I wondered what he must be thinking of these troops rolling into his town, and how worried he must now be about what they had seen and experienced.

A few minutes later there was a slight bump and we came to a stop. The driver looked back at Kim. “We’re here, ma’am. Uintah Basin Medical Center.”

“Defensive positions. Move out!” Kim was taking to this command thing rather well, it seemed.

We moved to our assigned guard positions as Kim walked over to the Sheriff
.

The Humvees moved off, disgorging their cargo at the pre-planned locations. The other teams spread out, with the armored transports taking up support positions. I didn’t see any walkers, and there were no reports from the other squads. It looked clear… for now.

I glanced over at Kim, but couldn’t hear anything. She walked back over and motioned for me to join her as the sheriff walked back to his squad car and left.

“He says they’ve got about ten to fifteen walkers in the hospital, which they’ve chained shut.” I snorted. That wouldn’t hold them for very long, and I would be surprised if all of them were still intact now. Walkers weren’t super-strong, but they would push past the normal limits of endurance that living humans had — and that made all the difference. Zombies didn’t care if they tore a muscle or sprained something. I started to ask a question, but she shook her head.

“I know, but he can’t get any of his people to get close enough to really check on the chains, not when it’s still even slightly dark out, anyway. They’ve heard rumors, and some of them didn’t make it out, so they’re not about to go back in. At least, that’s what he says. I told him to check on his people, make sure they’re all where they need to be and that everyone’s staying home.”

She turned back to the hospital, pulling an overhead photo from a pocket. “We’ve got primary entrances here, here and here, plus side doors, the loading dock, etc. We’ll check the primary exits first, then spread out along the perimeter in teams and look for egress points.”

I nodded.

Kim went on, “1
^st
team: Bravo, north side main entrance. 2
^nd
team: Charlie east, Delta west. Verify and secure primary exits, then spread out for secondaries and hold.”

I whistled, and the other four members of Alpha and I moved forward, Kim at my side. The SCAR machine guns we all carried were held ready as we moved forward in a low crouch. We fanned out as we approached the front of the building, and stopped fifty feet from the front door.

The main entrance, like most hospitals, appeared to be a sliding glass door, though this one had been disabled and its outer handles chained together. I couldn’t see any movement through the glass, but the chain looked intact.

Maybe they’re all still in there
, I thought, then grimaced.
Yeah, like our luck is that good.

“Alpha clear and secure.” Kim’s voice in my headset was loud and clear, and we waited for similar confirmations from the other squads.

“Bravo, clear and secure.”

“Charlie, clear and secure.”

We all paused, but there was nothing from Delta. Kim tried again. “Delta, report!”

There was a crackle of static. “…piece of shit! Sorry, ma’am. My fucking radio wasn’t working. I had to… Wait one.” We waited in silence, scanning the still dark interior of the hospital and the surrounding grounds. “Delta here, ma’am. West entrance is
not
secure, repeat,
not
secure. I can see the chain, but it’s on the ground and appears to be broken. The door is ajar, and I can see blood on the wall.”

“Roger, Delta. Mobile Three, move to support Delta and scan that area for movement. Delta, secure that exit.” Her voice was cold and hard, and I glanced at this woman who was my commanding officer. Her jaw was set, she looked pissed, and I knew that if anyone could pull this off, she could.
Poor dumb sons of bitches; they’ve screwed with the wrong soldiers.

“Delta, moving to secure.” We heard a sharp intake of breath. “Walker spotted.” A pause, and then a whispered “Walker down. Door secure.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and saw Gaines doing something similar to my left. We’d passed our first hurdle; somehow everything was just a bit more real, now. Even with our training encounters with Chauncey, we hadn’t really gotten used to the
reality
of what we were up against.

Kim whispered into her mike. “Good work, Delta. All teams, move to secondary positions and then regroup.” Reynolds, Barnes and I split off and moved to the right, looking for other doors or broken windows that might indicate a zombie had escaped the facility. Not finding anything, we returned to our prior position and were met by Martinez, Gaines and Eaton, who shook their heads as they crouched.