Infection: Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (18 page)

He finally looked over at another officer and asked, “How much longer until the bridge is ready?”

As a last resort, the colonel had ordered the destruction of the bridge spanning the Knik Arm Waterway, a narrow but effective natural waterway that separated Anchorage from the fertile Matanuska Valley and its roads that connected with the northern two thirds of the state. If the disturbance was to cross the Knik on the existing bridge, it could spread in any direction and the colonel would be powerless to stop it. As it was, the Glenn Highway was cut between the Chugach Mountains and served as a funnel to the Knik Arm crossing.

He hoped that he could disperse the crowds when they saw the soldiers at the blockade and then set to sorting out the madness that started all of it. So far, responses to the tumult had been piecemeal and very ineffective. Deployed across the Glenn was an ad hoc battle group of more than one hundred soldiers and the few Stryker armored vehicles available to him, a very intimidating if a little bit of a ragtag body of men and machines. Having the helicopter gunships hovering overhead should help to convince the leaders of the uprising to withdraw and start seeking different options to settle their grievances, whatever those might be.

He heard the whirling chops of the helicopters as they flew out toward the roadblock. Almost immediately afterward, he could hear the distant pop and crack of small arms coming from his men on the line. The firing rose to a crescendo almost immediately and maintained the furious pace.

He took a deep breath and said, “I need to get up there and see things for myself. Get me a chopper.”

On the ground at the roadblock, the major in command peered through his binoculars at the approaching horde. But they weren’t just approaching; they were running hard and fast right at them. He could see that many of them were wounded, or at least had blood on them. More importantly, he could see that this wasn’t a small group of ethnic dissidents trying to dismantle the United States—or even Alaska—by disrupting communications, shutting down utilities, and spreading fear amongst the population. The group, at least in his eyes, was a perfect cross section of ethnic groups that represented the population of Anchorage and Alaska as a whole. Everyone appeared to be represented.

Ringing in his ear were the rumors about what had happened. Mass murders, mutilations, cannibalism. He’d always said that in every rumor there was a kernel of truth. But what of these rumors was true? Was any one more appealing than the others? What horrible truth was propelling these people?

There were still some abandoned vehicles here and there along the road. He was amazed to see the cars disappear under the surge of humanity as if some huge valve had just been opened and the screaming masses poured forth to swallow everything in its path. At first simply piling onto and over the cars and trucks, soon the tsunami of people was carrying the automobiles along with it like a stick riding the current in a storm drain during a spring rainfall. The wave stretched as far back as he could see. There were thousands of people coming right at him and his men; more than he could believe and certainly more than he had been told to expect.

“Christ Almighty
.” He shouted orders to the soldiers around him. “Steady, men! Hold your fire until the order is given. Maybe we can turn these folks away without having to get heavy with them.”

His soldiers, posting themselves behind the hastily prepared defenses of concrete traffic barricades positioned side by side across the highway, readied their firearms for action and waited. He looked at them and could feel his heart begin to wane. Even if he and his men could hold these people at bay, he wasn’t convinced they had enough bullets to be able to shoot all of them.

He looked over his shoulder at the open road behind him. He could just climb in the Humvee on which he was standing and drive away. He could stay in front of this mob and never look back. He was sweating now. He could feel it running down his back between his shoulder blades and taste it on his upper lip. He had nearly convinced himself to do it...to just drive away as fast as he could, when he heard it.

Preceding the masses was the sound of a freight train. The noise, corralled as it was by the mountains, grew in intensity with each passing collective breath of the awaiting soldiers until they could all feel it. Trying to be heard above the din, the major used a bullhorn to talk. Adhering to his training, he calmly said to the mob, “Please disperse.” And then, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the United States Army. We require that you disperse and return to your homes at once.”

Taking a deep breath, the major almost pleaded, “Please turn around and return to Anchorage or I will be forced to order my men to open fire.”

Hearing the loud voice and seeing the soldiers, the crowd only became more agitated and grew louder, their hungry groans becoming ravenous growls. They were a scant few hundred yards away when the major ordered his men to fire a warning volley above the multitude’s heads. Several other soldiers fired tear gas into the bedraggled ranks as well, none of which had the slightest impact on the throng’s progress. As if it knew its potential to turn a bad dream into a nightmare just by its presence, the smoke from the gas canisters clung to the ground and reluctantly rose up in dissipating swirling wisps, fading like second guesses.

The major licked his lips and got a full dose of salty fear. He then ordered, “Okay boys! Let ‘em have it!”

There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. Every gun in the firing line began to chatter and spit, the sound akin to a chainsaw cutting into a log, instead it was actually cutting into the lines of people coming at them. To the major’s amazement, the first mixed and disorderly rank was hurled back, but the majority of those hit were back on their feet almost at once to rejoin the others as they continued forward despite the storm of lead lashing into them. Through his binoculars, the major could see with magnified clarity that the bullets his men were shooting were finding their marks. There was a steady red, misty, cloud that hung about the perpetually changing front rank as bullets punched holes in chests, arms, and legs.

There was something very wrong. His men were expending huge amounts of ammunition and a mere handful of bodies were lying lifeless on the road. Despite their best efforts, they couldn’t stop the rush. At about that moment, thankfully, a pair of Blackhawk gunships roared over their heads. A third helicopter was still approaching from a little farther back. The relief he felt could not be expressed in words. Perhaps they would be able to get through this.

He shouted, trying to encourage his men, “Pour it on! Drive them back! Hold your line! Maintain your fire!” The major moved up and down the line ordering, hoping, helping. He watched the helicopters rain down fire and destruction.

Yellow, orange, and black flowers of fire erupted up and down the highway. Bodies were tossed through the air with each successive explosion. Unfortunately, most of those bodies again lifted themselves onto their feet and continued forward. More than a few victims were engulfed in flames and then they too arose and carried on, smoky contrails in their wake.

This time the major said it, “
Christ Almighty
.”

His radio began to squawk wildly but he couldn’t understand it. He tried, but he just couldn’t focus on anything but what was unfolding in front of him. There was little more than a football field of space separating him from the monsters still coming at him.

The radio squawked again. This time he concentrated on the voice coming out. It was the colonel, whose voice was crackling. “Sir, I don’t think we can hold!”

“I’m above you right now, Major. Your boys are doing a fine job. Keep it up!”

“We don’t have enough ammunition to keep this up, sir.”

“The engineers just need a few more minutes to prepare the bridge for demolition. Do you understand , Major? We need you to hold for as long as you can. If they get through and that bridge is still intact, I’m not sure where or if we could stop them.”

Banishing the thoughts of escaping from his mind, the major said somberly, “I understand sir. We’ll hold.”

“Thank you, son. If we can keep the fire up from here, maybe you and your boys could save some of your ammunition.”

“I don’t think that is going to work, sir, but we’ll do our jobs. Make sure that bridge gets blown.”

He climbed up into the gunner’s position of the parked Humvee and pulled the hammer back on the heavy machine-gun on the mount. He begged quietly, “Lord have mercy on my soul.”

His machine-gun, loud as it was, was barely audible over the already deafening cacophony. A few of his bullets struck his targets in the head and those targets actually fell and didn’t get back up.

He paused and decided to aim the gun a little higher and intentionally hit his victims’ heads. Again, this seemed to work, permanently knocking down these attackers.
That’s it! We need to hit them in the head. That works!

“Shoot them in the head!! Shoot them in the head!!” he shouted to his men, but they couldn’t hear over their own shooting. Just seconds later, the first of those things crested the concrete traffic barricades and came crashing down amongst his men. The major used his own M4 assault rifle to pick off several of those beasts that were even then tearing at some of his men.

These weren’t human beings they were fighting. They were something more preternatural and raw. They attacked primarily with their teeth, using them like predatory cats to latch onto and then tear at their victims.

Again he shouted, “The head!!!! Shoot them in the head!!!!”

Some of his men heard him this time, but it was too late. Soldiers were being dragged down to the ground by two and three of the creatures at a time. The major started to shoot the machine-gun again until he fired all the rounds into the crowd. Another Humvee from the opposite end of the barricade was already overwhelmed by the things and the Stryker vehicles were facing in the wrong direction to make a quick retreat, their open rear doors presenting a very tempting opportunity to several of the beasts. The soldiers inside were trapped and easy prey.

Several of his men broke free from the roadblock and ran toward the major’s Humvee; his vehicle now represented the only real way out of the melee. There were six of them. They moved coolly, if abruptly. Three would shoot while three moved and then they would alternate. The trained soldiers fired conservatively, trying to save their precious ammunition. The major tried to add some degree of support with his own rifle while he remained in the gunner’s position of the Humvee.

The six men were only a few feet from the vehicle when one of their number stumbled and fell behind. The other five continued to fire rounds into the closing mob, but they could not protect their fallen brother. He was overwhelmed, screaming and kicking, his rifle continuing to fire erratically as his legs and torso were viciously assailed...bitten, ripped, chewed, and devoured.

The crowd’s momentary distraction with their latest victim allowed the other soldiers time to retreat to the still idling Humvee and make their escape. No one said a word as they headed for the bridge.

If the engineers had already destroyed the bridge, the sergeant driving the armored sport utility vehicle decided that he would just drive the vehicle as fast as he could off the ledge and hope for a soft water landing from which they could all swim to safety. There was no way in hell that he was going to go down like all those other poor saps back at the roadblock. He’d put a bullet in his brainpan before he’d let that happen.

No rest for the weary. That was a phrase she’d heard batted around the handful of offices at which she had worked. It could be heard on Monday mornings when co-workers attempted to unhappily shake off the lingering effects of the weekend, or when a reporting time deadline threatened to pass without the successful completion of the assigned work.

No rest for the weary...none of them, not a one, had any clue about weariness or exhaustion. She knew now that for them, it was just about inconvenience and a fleeting sensation that would pass soon enough. There was always the possibility of naps or just slowing down for the day or even finding a delicious double mocha with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles to chase away the malaise. There was always something on which you could count.

Emma now had an unfortunately firm appreciation for the gravity of the “no rest” sentiment. She couldn’t remember ever having felt this tired; not even during her short stint of all-nighters while she enjoyed her even shorter stint in college. Maybe it was because, back then, it wasn’t a matter of life and death.

As it was, she hadn’t really slept for two solid nights and then had been on the run nonstop during the day. She wondered if this was how it was for prey species such as wildebeests, but then she felt a certain resentment for her animal kingdom example when she realized that even those creatures were granted slight respites for rest and eating.

That was the other nagging distraction. She was hungry. She didn’t just need a snack or trip to a McDonald’s for a quick bite. She hadn’t had anything other than water for a couple of days and her moaning, acid-churning stomach was in full revolt.

She realized after several more minutes that her eyes were indeed open and that she had been staring absently at the crude ceiling of simple, unfinished lumber over her. They weren’t, after all, staying at the Captain Cook Hotel or some other establishment that prided itself on its refinements. The three of them, hunted fugitives in their own city, had taken a hasty refuge in a child’s tree house for the simple reasons that it was up off the ground and the rope ladder could be and was retracted into the structure, rendering them unreachable by any would-be assailants. Once inside, their heart rates could slow slightly and their breathing could relax to a more normal level.