Even Zombie Killers Need a Break zk-2 Read online

  “Alright drop down over the water, let’s mix it up, over the bridges, watch for jumpers, lets head around the lady, down over wall street, around the Harlem River, Yankee stadium and we’ll approach the pier to the east.”

  Flying over the city was fraking awesome, but a mad house of helicopter traffic. The Marines had their damned hands in everything ruining it for everyone as usual. They operated the evac of most of Long Island and had set up shop at JFK, flying people out to the ships.

  “Kennedy Tower Voodoo 41, flight of two 60’s south bound at the face, requesting a south east bound transition over wall street, to the Harlem.”

  The controller came back to in a heavy Brooklyn accent. “Yeahh uh Rodger that 41, approved as requested, report Lady remain below 500 ft. Heavy helicopter traffic in the vicinity of Ft. Hamilton, and the Intrepid.”

  “41 copies all.” Jackal took was taking some action shots with his iPhone as we came around the Statue of Liberty. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?” Slim laughed over the radio, I looked over that the Statue of Liberty and was shocked. “Some mother fucker spray painted a fucking mustache on the Statue of Liberty.” Thompson was arching over his chair tying to get a good look.

  The sound of the secure radio double beep popped on in my helmet “Hey Lex you guys see that, looks like someone tagged up the Lady!”

  I replied “Haha yeah man, that’s fucking hilarious. But seriously…. What a bunch of dicks.”

  “I would have painted a big fat penis on it.” Spc Edwards blasted over internal.

  “I’ll paint your mom with mine” Jackal shot back over internal “You don’t fuck with ’Merica!”

  “Dude that guy doesn’t get a Black Hawk ride out of NY, what a doucher.” I replied.

  You could see the fires and Zs in the streets, the ground guys were putting the smack down on the Zs. Burst of .50 cal, the rapid fire of 240s, were lighting up the streets, the body parts, and bright red clouds of mist exploded throughout the horde. Some navy cats in a PT boat were doing a drive by along the Wall Street helipads. I brought us down for a close look.

  “Now that’s fucking gangster,” Slim said as he held his GoPro camera out this window. The PT boat had the M260 30mm chain gun on it, the same one that’s on the Apache; they were blasting the crap out of the Zs on the piers. They were massing on the pier, running full speed off the docks and falling into the water. Pieces of zombie flew over all over the place; the round exploded upon impact, turning the crowd into a killzone.

  “Mind if we join in, Sir?”

  “Hell yeah man! Light those bitches up!” *CHHHHCHHHHCHHCHHCHHHCHHCHHCHHCHHHHCHHHH

  Slim’s 240 rained down 7.62 justice upon the mob of Zs. “Think I can set one of them on fire?” I asked Jackal.

  “Hahah Idk bro, be careful don’t get too close to that 30mm.”

  I sped up and tucked the nose, threw in some pedal and swooped about 30 feet over the mob, Jackal flipped the safety switch and I punched about 10 flares into the crowd. “yyyyyyyyyyyyyyup…” Slim keyed. “Anything?” I keyed back.

  “Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyup…………. oh yeah BAHAHAH ohhh yeah!!” I couldn’t see as we had already flown past them.

  “Are they burning?” I asked Slim again.

  “Meh. I think you got the hedges that were next to the mob, maybe you got a couple, I wasn’t really watching.”

  “Hahahah than why did you say yup?”

  “Oh, I just saw a huge fat guy get ripped limb from limb by a couple Zs on the subway tracks and then get hit by a train.”

  I just kept flying… “DUDE did you get it on camera!?” Jackal said.

  Just then the radio beeped again. “1-1, 1-2: Did you guys just SEE fat guy get mauled and then hit by a train?” Buck said over internal. Jackal just looked at me and laughed in his usual way, and I keyed the mic shaking my head with a grin and said “As if your day couldn’t get any worse. Oh look there’s my train!”

  Chapter 3

  We flew low over the east side and over Yankee Stadium. Inside there were the remains of some survivors and what looked like a FEMA camp. Just then some tracer fire came straight up at out windshield from inside the stadium. I banked the aircraft to the left hard “1-1 taking fire from the 12 o’clock, I think it came from inside the stadium.” I felt the “plunk” noise of the aircraft taking hits, “1-1 taking hits”

  I did a small cyclic climb and then pushed us over banking right then left, dropping more altitude it was a hailstorm of incoming fire now, not just from around the stadium, but from around the streets, and on top of roof tops. I ducked behind a couple of skyscrapers as an RPG round flew past my nose and impacted the MetLife building next to me, exploding and sending glass flying out in from of me and down towards the streets.

  “Get us out of here sir,” Jackal said in a cool and collected voice, “you are clear around to the left.” Slim backed me up hanging out the window shooting his 240.

  “I’ve got a technical 6 o’clock shooting at chalk 2,” Thompson said as his 240 belted out brass onto the canvas seats. “1-1, 1-2 how are you guys looking?” Jim keyed over internal .

  “We’re alright man we took a few hits, I’m going to have our crew dogs take a look when we land at the pax terminal, how about you guys?”

  “Yeah, we’re alright we took a few his, but our systems are green right now.” Jim sounded as casual as always, coming from a dude who has gotten shot down and shot up more than most pilots I know, it didn’t’ surprise me. “Man and I thought Detroit was bad,” I said over the radio.

  Jackal smiled and said “When did the City turn in fucking Compton bro?”

  “When the Reavers took over Ft. Hamilton, prolly” I said.

  “Anybody want some bacon?” Slim held up a greasy plastic bag up over the center console and Jackal and I looked at each other. “Come on… you know you want some… baconbaconbaconbacon.” Jackal looked back at him and said “Where the hell did you get bacon?”

  Slim was feeding the greasy strips into his mouth clutching the ends of the meat with his long gangly fingers and replied while chewing. “Well the store got the bacon from a Pig, I got it from the store and then smoked it in the barracks… It’s smokey deliciousness is amazinggggrrrrrr nom nom nom.”

  “I’ll have some.” Thompson stuck his hand in the greasy bag.

  “Take your gloves off first rookie, you’ll get em all fucked up,” Slim said while munching on. “Dude that smell delicious! Hook a brother up Slim” Jackal received the greasy bag, handed me a slice.

  “Awwwwwww yeahhhhhhhh,” I said in delight.

  We pulled in short final over the water and started our approach to the helipads where the civilian crowd was waiting. “Man look at this place.” I said while putting adjusting my approach angle. The people were rioting, screaming and yelling, pushing each other over and trampling over one another. They were climbing on up on fences and trying to get on helicopters; there were a barges over flowing with people. There were people in business suits, people with bags, children, holding pets, babies, the elderly, homeless, foreigners and tourists alike.

  The Staten Island ferry was capsized and on fire, and other boats were so overburdened with people, some people were latched on the rubber bumpers, dangling chest deep in the water. The military had brought in 18 foot T-Walls to make a secure LZ with C-wire on the top of it, they had a pretty extensive and fortified Entry Control Point, and but it looked like they barely had the crowd at bay. “Alright Jim, I’ll take the far right pad closest to the entrance.”

  “Rodger that, I’ll come in right behind you.” The crew chiefs, hanging out their windows walked us in, “you’re clear down right”, “and down left sir”. I continued down looking out the left door, and down towards the ground.

  A couple soldiers in full kit ran up to the crew chief and yelled into their mic boom, “WE’VE GOT 22 PEOPLE FOR YOU TODAY!”

  “Okay, Thompson tell him to send them out, we’re at 1000 pounds of gas on the money.” The grunt
signaled to with a wave of his arm, and the people started running out towards the aircraft. There were 11 people coming towards my aircraft, 4 young women that looked terrified as hell, and looked to be around my age in their mid twenties, there were three men in business suits, one of them with a briefcase and 7 other men of different ages and appearances, one of the dudes had a Marlboro cigarette hat on, an oil stained blue shirt and a had a mangled looking beard, he looked like a mechanic as his hands were covered in grease and looked oil stained. That and the motherfucker had a grease rag in his pocket. I thought the dope was going to have his hat blown off his head, but he took it off, hunched down and came into the rotor system, and buckled in on the front couch in a split second. That’s odd… must be a vet or something… back in ’Nam maybe, I thought to myself I turned back to look at him, and he gave me a hang loose sign and a toothless smile.

  “Yo you check out that old joker in the back?” I looked at jackal, who was packing another lip. He stomped on the floor mic and said, “Yeah man, he’s totally outa of the ’Nam.” “Jim how many Pax you got man?”

  “11, we’re full up.” Okay, winds look straight down the pipe, we’ll come straight up, fly down the street here and climb out over central park.”

  “Rodg!” he said. “Okay man I’m coming up and out.”

  “Alright man, you have the controls, take us home.” I looked over at jackal, he readjusted and sat up in his chair and put his feet on the pedals, I made the radio call to JFK tower and let them know what we were doing and we started to take off. “Shit man look at that crowd down there, that’s insane….” It must have been 5000 plus people, helicopters were all over the place, picking up people and dropping them off, split between Floyd Bennet airfield which was controlled by the Navy, and Governors Island, where FEMA and the CDC had set up shop.

  Jackal pulled in some more power and dipped the nose to gain some airspeed, there were Zs fucking everywhere, the streets were jammed with taxis, buses and cars, some of them were on fire. I looked down and saw a family running from some Zs. The woman fell and dropped her child and they were just about to get over run by the Zs.

  “SLIM DO SEE THE FAMILY BELOW US AT OUR 9.” I blurted out. “Slow back man” Jackal pulled back and decel’d us, “I GOT EM!” Slim shouted!

  “Open fire on the Zs man, see if you can cover them.”

  “On the GO!” Jackal came down in altitude, “2, 1 one, we’re going to try to cover this family of civilians making a run for the Safe Zone, maneuver to facilitate their movement watch your fire.”

  “40 feet, no lower Jackal, scan for wires Thompson, keep us clear and back get the ones of the right.”

  “Rodg.” I reached back and grabbed the M4 in the center console rack; we were at a very slow however and did something that was really stupid but I didn’t care.

  “what the fuck are you doing Lex?” “Helping out Slim,” I racked a round in the M4, stuck my foot in the door arm Lock and started shooting at Zs. I caught one of them with a 3 round burst in a dead sprint, he stumbled and splattered over the hood of Car. “Reloading!” Slim said over the ICS. POP POP POP POP! I hit one in the shoulder tearing off its arm, and blew off its left knee cap.

  The terrified family, looked up at us, they continued to flee down the sidewalk. We helped them out for another block where the made it to a ground patrol helping civilians towards the safe area. “Hey it’s cool and all that we tried to help them out but that was really fucking stupid and risky Lex,” Jim said over the radio.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jackal spoke up over the radio. He looked at me and said, “I got kids man, 9 and 14, you bet you fucking ass I would have done the same thing. It was a risky fucking call but sometimes it pays off.“

  “Appreciate that, hey bro we’re almost bingo, we need to roll NOW.”

  “Hey 2, 1 we’re almost bingo man, let’s hit it.”

  “Rodg!”

  Jackal nosed over and flew us down a street towards central park. Jackal looked over to me and said “Hey man, I’m gonna take us up a little higher out of the buildings, this is Reaverl territo—’

  Before he could finish what he was saying tracer rounds erupted all over the aircraft, a few rounds punched through my chin bubble and hit my dashboard displays, shattering them. The aircraft suddenly lurch hard to the right and strait down. I looked over at Jackal who was slumped over the controls, leaning up against his door. I pulled back on the cylic with both hands and hard as I could to get his body weight off of it and correct our soon to be smoking wreck.

  “Jackals hit, GET HIM OFF THE CONTROLS!” I yelled. I grunted as hard as I tried to correct the aircraft attitude. Thompson unbuckled and reached up and pulled Jackal’s harness reel and pulled him back into the seat.

  Rounds continued to hit the aircraft, the MASTER CAUTION panel lit up yellow, the #1 fire light illuminated and then an enormous loud BANG and concussion wave hit the aircraft inside of the cabin. Blood flew up to the cockpit on the center console.

  I looked back, thinking that Thompson has shot the 240 inside the aircraft. In reality, we figured out later, a Rocket Propelled Grenade hit the back of the crew compartment, punching through the rear right cargo door and detonating over the APU accumulator and igniting the fuel line above the #2 engine. “FUCK!! What the fuck was that!” I shouted out.

  The aircraft became a lot harder to control. I felt the flight controls get really sloppy. I wiped the blood of of Jackal’s MFD panel and saw that a #1 Hydraulic pump failure, Backup Reservoir low and #1 and #2 tail rotor servo failure and # 1 primary flight control servo failure… In infantry terms, I was all out of magic and smoke to make Miss UH60 Michelle the helicopter fly and I was barely keeping control, and was on fucking fire.

  “MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY, VooDoo 41 is hit and going down, in the south east corner of Central Park, 16 people on board…. Will call down and safe!” The radio exploded in chatter on the SATCOM when I broadcast it. I wasn’t listening, I was just trying to keep here strait and level and find a fucking place to land.

  “Slim you alive?”

  “Yeah I’m alright…. My head is fucking killing me…” he said. “Make the radio calls, talk to chalk 2, Thompson is the Number 2 on fire still?”

  “YES SIR flames are at the cargo door now!!!” he said in a terrified voice.” The civilians strapped into the cargo seats were screaming. I felt a wiggling yaw in the rudder pedals, I was 85kts and had no choice, she was starting to yaw to the right a little bit more and more. I reached up with my right pulled the #2 fire handle on the engine which shut the fuel off, popped a fire bottle on engine number 2 saw the engine RPM drop. The cockpit was an array of warning tones and lights now. I dropped the collective and started an Autorotation and begin the emergency landing. If I didn’t we would spiral out of control and crash.

  I left the number #1 on in order to maintain a power on auto rotation. I didn’t have single engine capability anyways, not with a full load of passengers. I would try to make it a gentle landing. I pulled back the #2 engine and pointed the aircraft towards and open bluff looking field with only few tree.

  My heart was beating out of my fucking chest as the aircraft was barely staying up, the radios were exploding with traffic.

  Jim’s UH-60 flew by the front of my aircraft above me and I looked down the ground rushing up towards the cockpit, the radar altimeter read 200ft… The Number 1 engine failed. now this shit was real…. 100ft….

  I pulled in a hard decel and felt the aircraft start to sink 30 feet. Come on Michelle don’t fall apart on me baby come on!!!! I pulled in the collective and heard the low rotor horn go off

  “HOLD ON GUYS!” I pulled the guts out of it and we hit the ground with a thunderous *CRASH*. My seat stroked down to the floor, the rotor blades flexed and smashed into the ground, and the transmission caved in through the back of the aircraft, my head hit the dashboard and I saw a stars and blacked out for minute. My face had hit top of the foam dash and I was bleedi
ng from a gash under my left cheek bone. The rotors knocked off the tail boom and we spun around in a circle; I saw a HUGE fiery flame spurt around as the aircraft spun 90 degrees to the right… I quickly pulled the #1 engine fire handle and hit the extinguisher. It didn’t work, the fire was still on. We spun to a stop.

  Chapter 4

  I was alive. The crashed knocked the frigging breath out of me and my neck was burned and bleeding from the seat belt digging into me during the crash sequence. There was shit everywhere, there was brass and smoke grenades, charts and approach plates all over fucking place. Jackals dip bottle had spattered all over his windshield. I came out of the slow motion and entered into freak out crash mode.

  “IS EVERYONE ALL RIGHT?” The old man in the back seat with the blue shirt, had already unbuckled, and crawled out Thompson’s window and was dragging Thompson slumped body out of the aircraft. I could feel the heat from the flames, and smoke was starting to obscure the cockpit.

  “SLIM! Are you fucking alive?” I shouted as I started to unbuckle myself. A Zombie Jumped on top of my windshield and started to beat on the windshield. FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!! I pulled out my M9 and emptied half the magazine in its face. I jettisoned my cockpit door, and tried to get up and out of it… I was in fucking pain all over, I was okay, my right knee was really fucking hurting but I powered through it and got out of the helicopter to help Slim, who was stuck in his harness and had blood all over his face. I hopped out, weapon at the ready, did a quick scan, reached in and pulled him out of the widow, his eyes’ were blood shot and he was bleeding from the forehead.