Trudge: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (26 page)

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Authors: Shawn Chesser

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: Trudge: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
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The Chinook left terra firma underneath it, nosed down and buzzed the building tops narrowly missing the south guard tower.

Not everyone made it out alive, the last helicopter to land took on passengers but the undead got aboard as well. The aviators lost control of the Chinook while trying to escape the attack. It took flight momentarily and then pitched over and rolled several times, pieces of rotor blade and bodies, human and undead showered the parade grounds. Like army ants, thousands of the infected swarmed the few survivors that weren’t killed outright in the violent crash. Fort Bragg fell to the dead three days after the Omega pathogen was released in the United States.

 

 

Chapter 39

Day 3, 19th Special Forces Garrison, Draper, Utah

 

 

“God damn, they got that place lit up like Wrigley Field during a night game. Only I doubt they’ve got any peanuts…popcorn or crackerjacks.”

Cade grinned. He kind of liked the pilot’s gallows humor.

The base was visible for fifteen miles around.

“What you see is Camp Williams, 19th Special Forces garrison. Look for the parade ground or a training field for a landing spot, both should be lighted.”

Duncan piped up over the intercom, “my boy they have got that base so lit up that I don’t think there is a nook or cranny where a shadow could hide.”

 

 Harry felt the Black Hawk slow and Duncan start the descent. It was evident why the base was awash in light.

“Holy mother of God” Harry exclaimed.

Cade had seen the same thing but his reaction was not a verbal one. By his estimation, there were hundreds of the creatures trapped in a massive trench running the length of the garrison. The closer they got to the parade ground the better he felt about what he was seeing. A blinding flash, followed by licking flames made Cade wince and cover his eyes. When he regained a semblance of normal night vision he could see multitudes of burning undead.  The ghoul filled slit carved into the earth was hard to comprehend.

“Hope yall brought you some mustard…because we got us a weenie roast.”

“Duncan, those used to be people. Can’t you take this a bit more seriously? Maybe find a little sympathy for them.”

“Not a shred, Harry old boy. That’s why I’m not going to be one of those critters dinner. As we used to say in Nam, Kill em all and let God sort em out.”

As the Black Hawk made firm contact with the ground a shiver ran through the airframe.

“Been awhile hasn’t it?”

“Cade this ain’t like riding a bicycle. The relearning curve is much steeper. Give me a few more hours and I’ll have this whore doing back flips and landing on feathers.”

Thinking he was stuck with a couple of frat boys, Harry muttered under his breath “I’m through with you two jokers.”

Duncan kept the rotorblades turning just in case they needed to affect a quick escape. Cade jumped out and sauntered, head ducked under the whirling rotor blades, towards the group of armed men heading his way. He knew the garrison commander from when he was with the 19th at Fort Lewis. Major Greg Beeson was a straight shooter (literally). He had trained snipers earlier in his career. They exchanged salutes and Cade asked him about the moat around the base.

“We had our engineers carve the trench with the dozers. When enough of the dead are assembled, a couple of boom boxes are set up near the pit, usually blaring heavy metal. They really love Metallica.”

“That’s what I call asymmetrical warfare” Cade interrupted.

“It’s pretty straight forward. They come in waves for some reason and so far they are pretty predictable. All we do is give it some time, and like lemmings, they do the rest.”

They walked and talked. Cade explained how they came to possess the helicopter and who his travelling companions were, finishing with the bad news about Boise and the Air Guard base there. Cade cut to the chase and told his old instructor about his missing family and his unstoppable desire to locate them. Major Beeson informed Cade that they had intercepted a call for help from Fort Bragg; it had been broadcast over the entire net. The base had been compromised and over run. He didn’t know about casualties, or how many had gotten out alive. The message gave no hint as to where the survivors, if any, were relocating to. After a long conversation Beeson indicated that Cade could use any of the base assets to further his mission.

The Major offered sanctuary to Duncan and Harry, he told the aviator that he was welcome and his expertise was greatly needed. B Company was on deployment in Afghanistan when hell opened up and the dead arrived. Only half of C Company was able to return. Major Beeson was confident the base could hold its own as long as all of the undead residents of Draper didn’t come calling. Duncan agreed to stay on “For love of country” as he put it. Harry intended to leave at first light; he was feeling lonely, useless and a little restless. Not good for an old man’s psyche.

 

 

Chapter 40

Day 3 Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho

 

 

Mountain Man Dan, as the Stanley locals called him, pressed the binoculars to his face. He lived a solitary life up in the craggy Sawtooth Mountains. The area of the forest that he called home was near an alpine lake at five-thousand feet, he had been living here in the wild for the last 16 years. Life had started closing in on him, or so he felt. It was too much for the old Vietnam vet to handle, when a sitting United States President got a hummer in the Oval Office and not a thing untoward happened to him. The bastard was even determined to grab for the guns of law abiding citizens while he tarnished the office and thumbed his nose at the Constitution. So Dan took his books and his guns and found his little slice of heaven.

He was in his element in the wilderness. Dan was a very patient and observant man. He always noticed anything out of the ordinary and he noticed that for the last three days there had been no air traffic. His first inclination was that the United States had suffered another 9/11 type terrorist attack.

The hike down to the small city usually took him four hours; a younger man could tackle it in two. The finger of rock that he was perched on was only five feet across but it allowed him to stop and observe the last mile of the mountain trail that he would have to descend.

The noises coming from below caught his attention before he even arrived at his usual resting spot. Gunfire echoed up from the Aryan Brotherhood camp. Dan witnessed the murder of four human beings in cold blood. The three men and a woman were dirty and shabbily dressed. One of the armed men released them from a building that looked like a tool shed or chicken coop. The four captives lurched into the middle of the compound. The shaved head, combat boot wearing, skins were hooting and hollering while they stood in a semi-circle around the four people. Dan had a strong suspicion that they were drugged because they staggered towards the assembled men in a lethargic, clumsy manner. He wasn’t prepared for what happened next. The big redhead stood apart from the rest, he pulled out a big chrome pistol and coldly shot the woman in the head. She fell to the dirt and ceased moving. The captive men didn’t try to run they just kept walking towards the pointed guns. As quick as it started it was over, AK-47s chattered and the three men dropped and sprawled on the ground, their blood turning the gravel black.

Dan wanted to go to town and tell Sherriff Blanda what he had just witnessed, but he couldn’t risk being seen while trying to circumnavigate the compound. The redheaded biker was an affiliate of the Aryans and Dan had crossed paths with him on a number of occasions. Today he wanted no part of the murderer.

He was in no position to be a hero, so the mountain man silently reversed course and headed back to his remote cabin. Alone with his thoughts he started up the trail.
Those media folks will surely milk this latest terrorist attack for all its worth. No doubt there will be old newspapers or magazines to read in town after this blows over
. Dan wasn’t worried about a radiological dirty bomb affecting him here.
Why the hell would the idiots attack Idaho anyway? If this were another attack by Middle Eastern extremists then President Odero was going to be walking on some pretty brittle eggshells trying to placate his Muslim buddies, while he ignored Americans that were calling for us to go kick some ass
.

He really disliked this part of the climb. For every two steps forward, the surface underfoot shifted and put him one step backward. Head down, watching the trail while putting one foot in front of the other, Mountain Man Dan continued his long trudge back up his talus and scree covered mountain.

 

 

Epilogue

Day 3, 19th Special Forces Garrison, Draper, Utah

 

 

Duncan ignored the man’s outstretched hand and instead embraced him in a surprise bear hug. Cade reciprocated and looked the old warhorse in the eyes and said a simple “Thanks.”

*****

The lemmings marched that morning. Cade, Duncan and Harry all slept in the same empty barracks. Slept was an overstatement. They were all awake when “Enter Sandman” commenced blaring from outside the fence. Because their numbers had steadily increased day by day the base commander made the decision to start eradicating the undead at first light and then again at dusk.

*****

Harry had taken up Major Beeson’s offer of a taxpayer provided Ford F-350 pickup painted entirely in desert camouflage. A Mossberg 500 pump shotgun and a box of shells was provided by the base gunsmith. There was also a case of MREs sitting on the bench seat when Harry got in the truck. He was disappointed with himself because he didn’t set out in search of his wife earlier and hated to admit that he was scared of finding out what really became of her. What Cade was doing was admirable and Harry used that example as motivation. He started the truck and waved halfheartedly towards Duncan and Cade. The perimeter outside the wire was momentarily free of undead. The soldiers opened the double gates for him.

No time like the present
. Without looking back he maneuvered the ARMY 4x4 out of the compound and sped down the gravel road, dust billowed up, erasing the truck from view.

*****

The motorcycle that Cade was given was an off road Kawasaki KLR 250. The bike was used by Delta Force, the 75th Rangers and many other Special Operations groups. While the civilian version proved to be very loud; the Special Ops build had beefier components and the exhaust was baffled for night time covert missions. While not entirely silent, it was extremely quiet and could go almost anywhere. Part of Cades Ranger training included riding dirt bikes in extreme terrain. It had been years ago and there would be some rust to shake off. He had requested the dirt bike because it would use less gas and give him more range. Also the farther east he went the more road blockages he would probably be forced to navigate around. Since he had lost the match grade sniper rifle, Major Beeson had the armorer fit a silencer for the M4. The gun would be a bit harder to maneuver in close quarter battle, but the ability to kill quietly, from a distance was well worth it. A new set of BDUs was offered and Cade donned the clean clothes, putting the rest of his gear in the saddle bags. Beeson gave him a few MREs and some bottles of water. The left saddle bag of the bike had been stocked with ammunition and extra magazines for his M4. In the right compartment was a small plastic gas can full of fuel and a length of hose for siphoning when necessary. The Major kept it short and told Cade that he hoped that he finds his family safe and to be careful out there. The man handed him a small portable Sat phone with an extendable antenna.

“Use the usual escape and evade frequency if you get into trouble. If we have air assets, or can help in any way, we will. God speed soldier.” The men exchanged crisp textbook salutes.

Duncan approached Cade and handed him two metal canisters and a small red plastic gun. It was purple signal smoke and a Starlight flare gun. Duncan’s usual gruff Southern drawl had a softer edge to it “In case you get into trouble, mi amigo. Pop the purple haze and I’ll know it’s you. That is if I can get my hands on a bird.” Before they parted ways, he tossed the young operator a set of the newest generation NVGs that he had lifted from the Black Hawk.

The Kawasaki started right up and softly idled between Cades legs. With the M4 stowed in a special compartment near his left leg and his trusty Glock holstered on his thigh, he engaged the clutch and then nudged the shifter into first gear.

The last few days had been a blur. Now when he tried to conjure the images of Raven and Brook from his memory the only faces that materialized were of the dead kids. Ike, Leo and the twins would not soon be forgotten. The world that they were supposed to inherit changed into one that snuffed the life from them. The former Delta Operator had all of the motivation that he needed; he would see his family again. Fully aware of the ramifications and dangers he faced going it alone; Cade made the easy decision to trudge ahead. The bikes engine growled as he engaged the clutch. Without a backward glance he raced out of the gates and turned east on the gravel forest service road. Duncan watched until he disappeared into the woods and then listened to the bikes soft exhaust note until there was only silence.

 

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