Even Zombie Killers Get the Blues zk-1 Read online

  “Nice people.” I commented to Doc. He grunted an affirmation, then took his turn at the binos while I ate some lunch.

  In the evening, we moved across the bridge and got as close as we could to the county prison. Unlike the state prison, with thirty foot high concrete walls, the county jail was surrounded by chain link and razor wire. Two guards sat in towers, and around the fence were piles of skeletons. It looked like a Z swarm had broken itself on the fence a while ago. I wondered who had won that one.

  The state prison was surrounded by 20’ high concrete walls. Guards stood in each of the towers. As I watched in the night vision scope, the guard in the closest tower was joined by another figure, and the two of them started having sex right there in the tower. I’ll give him credit for enthusiasm but it meant their security was shit.

  I wrote all this up and shot it back to TF Empire with pictures. The return e-mail came back quickly.

  FROM: [email protected]

  TO: LOSTBOYS6@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL

  RE: FRAGO 16 OPORDER 17-034 OPERATION HAWKEYE

  Nick, move back and find a place to watch the fireworks. Stand by to provide observed corrections to fire support if necessary. Hope you enjoy the show.

  MAJOR JOHN FLYNN

  S-3, TF EMPIRE

  Chapter 16

  “Nick, Empire Six is on the horn. He wants a prisoner to interrogate.”

  “Tell him I said to piss off.”

  “Empire Six, this is Last Boys Three, our six element says to piss off, over.”

  I grabbed the hand mike from Doc. “You asshole.” He laughed and told me he hadn’t transmitted. Everybody is a frigging joker.

  Turns out before he launched this op, Colonel Jackass wanted us to interrogate a prisoner. We had given him a pretty good writeup of the situation. However, he didn’t want to “launch on unconfirmed Intel”. His words. My words were “you big puss,” but I wasn’t stupid. I was going to deal with him in my own time. I gave him the “Roger that” and started to plan.

  We still had two hours of darkness left. I didn’t like the idea of snatching a prisoner. It was dangerous, and I couldn’t figure out how we were going to do it. Everyone was locked up tight in the jails or guarded in the fields. We had already seen that the guards didn’t go anywhere alone, even when taking a dump, when they were outside the prison. They only slacked off when they were behind the walls. Getting one alive would be next to impossible. At the least, it would involve some kind of fight, which would draw attention from even more guards. As far as just “taking someone down” it’s not like the movies at all. You don’t just sneak up on someone, tap them on the head, drag them away and then wake them up with a gentle slap on the face. More likely than not, if you hit someone hard enough to knock them out, you are going to fracture their skull or at least cause a major concussion. Which, all and all, makes for a useless prisoner. Since they never travelled alone outside the prison, we would have to kill one to snatch the other. That would blow the element of surprise for any attack tonight.

  Jonesy ambled over after exchanging watch with Ahmed. “Nick, this isn’t going to work. Ain’t no way we gonna get prisoners to question. They might screw off up in the towers but outside the wire? Them bastards got their shit wired tight.”

  I shook my head. “Gotta agree with you, brother from another mother. Ain’t going to happen.”

  We had already had two killed and one wounded on this mission, so I did what any good subordinate does when confronted with impossible orders from above with no relevance to the situation on the ground: I ignored them.

  We waited until daylight, then I called into Empire Six.

  “Empire Six, this is Lost Boys, Over.”

  I told him we had captured a prisoner, and before he expired, he told us that yes, they were cannibals, and yes, they were in the prison, and no, he didn’t know how many of them they were.

  “What do you mean he didn’t know how many of them there were?”

  “Well, he died.”

  “Did you get to question him first?”

  “For a bit. He pretty much confirmed what we knew already.” Damn, this jerk was making it hard to lie to him.

  “How did you get the information out of him?”

  No way was I going to let that pinhead fulfill his dark fantasies by giving him torture tales.

  “Better you don’t know, if you get my meaning, over.”

  “Roger that, Empire Six, out.”

  God, he was an insufferable prick. Another FRAGO came in from the S-3. If possible, they wanted us to secure the county jail. I calculated up the odds. We had only seen guards in two of the towers there and at the gate to the jail. That we could do. H Hour was at 0300. We moved out to a better observation position so we could keep an eye on the jail and the prison. It wouldn’t do for whoever was coming for the prison to get a surprise if we could avoid it.

  “Jonesy, quit that shit. Just kill it.” We had settled down on the edge of the tree line. A Zombie with no legs was pulling its way toward us through the forest. Its lower jaw was missing, probably a survivor of the Z wave that had broken over the jail. Jonesy was baiting it, letting it get close then low crawling to a different position.

  “I’m just doing PT with my battle buddy here, Nick.” I could see his grin in the moonlight.

  “Just kill it already. Have a little bit of compassion. That was someone’s mom once.”

  “OK. You just one big bad teddy bear, Nick.” With that he pulled his .22 pistol and popped two rounds into its head. The Z sank to the ground, the weird red light in its eyes slowly fading.

  At 0259, H-1, Ahmed lined his rifle up on the guard in the tower at the jail. I lay next to him, watching through my NVGs and counting down quietly. 3, 2, 1.

  At 0, all hell broke loose. Ahmed’s first shot dropped the guard in the tower. At the same instant, a bolt of light shot into the truck parked in front of the prison. It exploded with a dull CRUMP, lifting off its axels and landing a dozen feet away, burning brightly. A Hellfire missile fired from an Apache miles way had impacted at exactly 0300. From behind another hill, another Apache rose up from where it had been waiting and started pumping 30mm chain gun rounds into each of the towers in turn.

  The Hellfire explosion had washed out my night vision goggles for a second. Ahmed’s also, spoiling his shot at the second guard. I flipped off my NVGs but the jail itself was still in darkness. I flipped them back down again and saw the other guard sprinting for the building where the slaves were kept. Ahmed’s second shot splintered the doorway next to him as he dove in. Three figures rushed out from the guard shack at the gate to stare at the fireworks. The five of us rose. In a steady walk, we advanced across the field towards the jail, shooting as we went. All three fell before we were halfway there. As the last one went down, we heard automatic gunfire and screams erupt from the slave barracks, and the inside was lit up with a strobe light of gunfire.

  We broke into a run, even as three CH-47s from the NY Army National Guard thundered overhead. Two stopped over the prison courtyard and started spilling troops from the back, fast roping into the courtyard. The third touched tail on front of the prison gate and a heavily armed squad ran out the back. As soon as the last man was clear they powered up and lifted to the back side of the prison, probably droping off another squad to cover the back exits.

  I saw all this out of the corner of my eye, but I stopped when I heard a .50 caliber open up. If you have ever shot a .50 or had one shot at you, you know immediately what it is. A stream of tracers hammered into one of the Chinooks dropping troops inside the prison yard and it immediately hauled ass away from the courtyard, fire erupting from one engine and two guys dangling from the ropes in the back. I stopped and stared for a second, watching it head south in a trail of smoke and flame before hitting the ground, hard. One guy had hung onto his rope and I watched him bounce off the ground with a bone-crunching thud. The second Chinook let loose a stream of fire from a side mounted minigu
n and something in the courtyard blew up in a flash, hidden by the thirty foot walls. Gunfire started swelling in a rapid crescendo inside the walls as the guys from the 108th Infantry went to work, routing out cannibals. The squad in front of the gate hosed the opening with short bursts of suppressive fire from a 240B machine gun. I started to run toward the downed chopper but Doc slapped me back to reality by hitting my shoulder as he ran toward the jail. The gun fire inside the slave barracks had changed to single shots, but the screams went on.

  Ahmed threw a flashbang through the open doorway. I looked away, opened my mouth and cupped my hands over my ears. A second after the grenade went off, my ears still ringing slightly, we piled through the door.

  Chapter 17

  The scene before me was pure chaos. Pools of blood ran out of jail cells. Two-thirds of the way down the corridor a figure was turning towards us. I only caught a glimpse of him as I turned to scan my sector, the right corner of the room. I was coming back around, lining up my sights just as he fired. Doc fired back from over my shoulder as an enormous hammer whacked me in my kevlar helmet. I fell to the floor, stars running crazy circles in my eyes, and everything going double for a second before snapping back into place. The rest of the team advanced down the corridor, scanning each cell for potential hidden bad guys. Then I blacked out.

  I came too with Doc kneeling over me, shining a flashlight in my eyes. I immediately started to try to get back up but he pushed me back down with a knee on my chest.

  “Slow down there, Killer! Take a break and sit for a minute. You took a round upside your helmet and got a pretty good whack. You’ve been unconscious for a few minutes, started to get worried about you. We need to go check out the slaves, see how many we can save. Here’s a souvenir for you.”

  He handed me my helmet. On the top left side was a long, shattered groove. An inch downward and it would have blown the top of my skull off. I felt really weak for a good minute or two.

  Jacob, standing guard at the door, waved in a figure dressed in US Army Multicams. It took me a few seconds for my eyes to focus in the glow of the chemlight he was carrying, but I recognized Captain Horatio David, from C Company of the 2-108th Infantry. I guessed it was his guys who had raided the prison. Behind him, two medics hurried in, moving towards the sounds of screaming and moaning coming from the jail cells.

  “Hey Nick, you doing OK?”

  “Yeah, Horatio. Took a round to the Kevlar, I’m a bit jiggly right now. Don’t move around so much. How’s your boys?”

  “Two dead, seven injured, one critical. The helo going down was tough but they managed to get out of the bird after it hit, before it went up. I’m going to have that jackass Colonel crawling up my ass about losing a helo. And he’s going to be all over your shit for not telling him there was a heavy automatic weapon in there.”

  “Screw him. What were we supposed to do, crawl inside the jail? Sorry about your guys.” I was pretty sure I would know them but I would wait til later to find out their names. I didn’t need any more grief right now.

  “Such is war, Nick, such is war. I know you couldn’t have gotten in there, and there should have been a predator over flight. Not that we can get them anymore. We’ve got one of the 47s sitting down outside to take off the refugees here once we do a full count and assess their medical condition. Here, let me give you a hand up.” He pulled me to my feet, where I stood a bit shakily for a second. Then I took a deep breath and walked out into the night air, into a scene from hell.

  A good quarter mile to the south of me was the burning wreckage of the CH-47. No one came close because onboard ammunition was starting to cook off, sending rounds through the air. To my left, the jail was burning in several places, including the shattered towers. The devastated truck at the front entrance had burned itself out except for the tires, but a cloud of acrid smoke drifted off into the night. As I watched, one of the CH-47s lifted from the courtyard and headed Southwest, back towards Albany, escorted by one of the Apaches. There went most of Charlie Company, along with their wounded. I hoped the wounded would make it.

  Captain Davis came up next to me and watched it go, and in a minute, Doc was standing next to us, and gave us an update.

  “We have fourteen dead, another twelve wounded, forty-two unwounded. Mostly women and children. Could have been worse, Nick.”

  I knew he meant that it could have been worse if we hadn’t rushed the barracks, but he knew it would eat at me that we hadn’t saved them all.

  “OK, Horatio, can your platoon organize the Evac? My team has to be long gone from here before the Zombies come crawling toward the sound of the gunfire.”

  Captain David and his RTO

  “I’ll do you one better, Nick. It’s going to take a few minutes to get organized. Have the bird give you a lift a couple miles north, say to a mountaintop just outside Ft. Ann, where you can rest up for a while.”

  “Sounds good, Brother.” I followed Doc, Jonesy, Jacob and Ahmed into the back of the chopper while Cpt. David conferred with the pilot. Once I sat down on the canvas seat, I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter 18

  We never got off the ground. The rotors spun up, then spun down. I woke up with a start, sensing the change in pitch. The crew chief lowered the tail deck and motioned for everyone to get out, so I unsnapped my harness, grabbed my ruck, and shuffled down the ramp.

  Outside, a Blackhawk had just touched down. After the rotors stopped spinning, two figures climbed down. Here came LTC Jackass with his faithful sidekick Command Sergeant Major Peters, aka Poncho. They strode over with the Colonel holding his Cavalry Stetson firmly on his head, as if the motionless helo would blow it away. I’m surprised he didn’t have his spurs jingle- jangling. CSM Peters was carrying an M-14 with more scopes, flashlights and targeting devices than an M-1 tank. He aimed it this way and that, starting at every sound coming out of the pre-dawn darkness. Twice he flagged me with his weapon, swinging it in a wide arc that pretty much covered my whole team. We cringed backwards, as we could see in the light of the burning chopper that his finger was on the trigger.

  Colonel Jackass stepped up to me and tried to stare me down. I put my finger alongside my nose and blew snot out onto the ground in front of him. He leaned forward and got two inches from my face, the firelight making him look like some kind of red cherry tomato.

  “Sergeant Major, arrest this man!” Peters started to sling his weapon and reach for me. I stepped back and got ready to deliver a full force punch to the Colonel’s face. Or his throat. I couldn’t decide which. My arm was stopped by Doc, who had come up behind me.

  “Arrest me? For what?”

  “It was your negligence that got that helo shot down tonight. I ordered you to get information on the prison.”

  “What were we supposed to do, crawl over the walls? Keep trying to take prisoners until we were dead?”

  “You were too busy worry about your little whore to do the job properly, Agostine!”

  “You’re a piece of shit!” I lunged for him but Doc and Jacob grabbed both my arms and wrestled me back. Then Peters finally got around to unslinging his weapon. He had it halfway up before Ahmed had his pistol pointed at his face from a few feet away. Jonesy had his pistol pointed at the Colonel, in that stupid sideways gangbanger pose I had been trying to break him of.

  Captain David stepped in between us all, and put his hands up, motioning for everyone to lower their weapons. CSM Peters didn’t lower his rifle until Ahmed had put his pistol back into its holster. The Sergeant Major was sweating like the pig he was. “Calm down, Gentlemen. We’re all on the same side! Right, Nick? I’m sure the Colonel, once he gets eyes on the ground situation, will understand the risk assessment on that kind of recon. Isn’t that right, Sir?” said Captain David, interposing himself between us and the Colonel.

  Jackass stared at Jonesy, who had a big, evil grin on his face. Then he snapped out of it and started backing off to his helo. “Yes, sure Captain. I’ll just
do a flyby of the prison. Good job here. Get loaded up and get your men out of here.”

  “Piece of shit pissed his pants when I drew on him. Dumbass cracker.” Jonesy laughed loud and hard.

  Captain David ordered his guys to give us up some ammunition for our rifles and some more clean water. “Nick, I suggest you and your team start humping it out of here before he finds his courage again and orders his crew chief to light you up with some machine gun fire for insubordination.” Then the guys and the former slaves climbed into the CH-47 and rose into the sky, silhouetted against the faint dawn.

  We jogged down the road for three miles, a slow steady pace, even though we were all exhausted. I spotted a two-story building on the side of the road. Around it was a ring of skeletons where a zombie wave had fought to get into the building. We slow-walked through the ground floor, clearing each room. When we got to the stairs, we found them hacked and shattered, which was a pretty standard way of keeping zombies out during the plague time. There were more skeletons clustered around the bottom. Most had neat round holes in their skulls.

  “Nice shooting,” muttered Ahmed, picking up a skull and examining it. Long blonde hair still clung to it in patches. He put it back down gently.

  Beside the stairs was a battered aluminum extension ladder. It looked like it had fallen over instead of being placed down. Way I figured it, someone was looting, used the ladder to get to the second floor, and it fell. The noise from the ladder falling must have been like a dinner gong for the local Z population.

  “Shall we?” said Doc, with a motion to the ruined stairway, and he set the ladder back up. We climbed up while Jonesy and Jacob stood guard below.

  We found another skeleton lying on a couch in an upstairs office. This one was clad in expensive Gortex hunting camouflage. The latest generation night vision goggles hung around his neck and he had a full set of top-of-the-line body armor. Across his chest lay a fancy tricked-out AR-15, the civilian version of the M-16, with rails, scope, flashlight, handgrips, all the toys. The top of his skull was missing and blood stained the wall behind the couch. There were a couple of hundred brass casings and magazines on the floor of the window next to the couch, piled around the top of the broken staircase. The bolt of the weapon was locked to the rear on an empty magazine.