Chapter 25

Chapter 25

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time for war, and a time for peace.



-Ecclesiastes 3:1-13





   Sergeant Barnes’ eyes lit up as he saw a civilian running across the roof with a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. He briskly jumped up and made his way to the window, his eyes never leaving the man for a moment. He felt one of soldiers tapping him on the shoulder, and ignored him.

“I see it!” He yelled over the constant hum of the rotary. His hands clenched the back of the pilot’s seat as he leaned in close. “We might have trouble!” He yelled. LaRouge turned his head just as the man fired.

“Aw Jesus!” LaRouge yelled, pulling hard on the throttle. Barnes fell back as the helicopter suddenly lifted up. Private Sanders grunted as he crashed into him. Barnes eyes closes as he prepared for the inevitable explosion; being consumed by a ball of fire as his hairs burnt up and his skin melted up and bubbled away. He heard the explosion and cried out, covering his face his hands. Except, nothing happened. Rex opened his eyes, seeing that Private Mathews was in the same position as him.

“Take him out! Take that fucker out, now!” LaRouge cried from upfront. Barnes pushed himself off Sanders and yanked open the sliding door, his hands gripped tight on the mounted UH-1N Minigun.

“Oh no…” The other chopper was spinning out of control, the tail of the copter was dangling loose, the rear set aflame. His teeth grinded against each other as he aimed the massive weapon at the crazed gunman on the roof. For a split second, Barnes could have sworn that their eyes locked. The rocket launcher slipped from his grasp as he took a single step back- that was when Rex open fired.

Two things happened then. As the armor-piercing mammoth jumped in his hands and his ears popped, a spray of rounds blasted out of the anti-tank machinegun. Before the man on the roof could even turn away, he exploded in a red shower of limbs and gore.

Barnes turned away, and could only watch in horror as the other chopper spun out of control and crashed into the side of a building.

“LaRouge, land on that roof!” Barnes yelled as he kept his hands trained on the gun, he didn’t want to suffer the same fate as Bravo team. Looking down into the streets, he could only see the back end of the chopper sticking out of the building. A few of the undead were already closing in on it, attracted to the noise. “We need to check for survivors!”

“Sir?” LaRouge questioned. Barnes closed his eyes and gritted his teeth for a moment, relishing the warm wind blowing his hair and the sun beating down on his face. He knew Bravo’s chances we slim, but the fact that there was still a chance was eating away at him.

“Land the fucking chopper, and that’s an order!” Barnes shouted as he opened his eyes.

“Yes sir!” LaRouge circled around the building, the Blackhawk whining as the pilot pulled back on the throttle and slowly lowered it to the roof. Barnes took a deep breath and turned back to the other two soldiers. Sanders and Mathews, both were just weekend warriors. Barnes didn’t really consider them to be true soldiers, but they’d happened to be on duty during the first outbreaks. He saw the worry in both of their eyes, and knew that this mission was going to be tough. The only reason they came along was because their numbers were running dangerously low. Taft kept sending them out on suicide misssions, yet the bastard never went on one himself.

Barnes gripped the seat as the Blackhawk gently touched down on the roof. Dust and gravel blew as he opened up the doors and hopped out onto the roof. He heard LaRouge kill the engine as Mathews and Sanders hopped out as well; Sanders gripped his Spas-12 tight and Mathews cradled his assault rifle close to his chest. LaRouge took off his helmet as he stepped out of the chopper, his hands played with his thick moustache as he slipped on a pair of aviators to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Could a get an ETA on your return?” LaRouge asked, still stroking his moustache. Barnes shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter LaRouge, you’re coming with us.” The pilot shifted uncomfortably as he slightly lowered his glasses, finally removing his hand from his moustache. A strong wind blew in, Barnes uniform flapped against him lightly.

“Sarge… I’m just a pilot, I don’t have any real combat experience…” LaRouge said, his voice cracking slightly. Rex sighed, he knew it would be a dangerous trip, but he’d feel a lot safer if there was an extra gun along for the ride. He stepped over to the pilot, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, just keep your eyes open and a clear head, you’ll be fine.” Barnes reached down to his hip holster and pulled out his M9 Beretta. He tossed it lightly in the air and caught it by the barrel, then handed it over to LaRouge, butt first. The pilot slowly took the handgun, pushing his sunglasses back in place.

“I got your back.” Rex grinned, slapping him on the shoulder. He pulled out his two spare magazines for his sidearm from his belt, and handed them over as well. He wouldn’t be needing them. Turning around he saw that Sanders and Mathews didn’t look too motivated.

“Look, they’d come back for us…” The weekend warriors said nothing, and kept their eyes at their feet. Hell, he was beginning to wish that they hadn’t come along. LaRouge stepped forward after an uncomfortable pause.

“Look, every moment we waste up here could be life or death for them.” Sanders looked over at Mathews, who gave a light nod.

“Let’s go.” The Private said, giving his shotgun a pump. Barnes held his assault rifle tight as he jogged over to the elevator, the others following closely behind. Down in the streets, he heard a losing battle with the undead. Screams and sporadic gunfire filled the air, the moans of the undead never receding. Fires consumed entire buildings, a dark smoke was beginning to fill the sky. Barnes realized then that the city would burn until there was nothing left, all the firefighters were probably stumbling around the streets, looking for a fresh meal.

He stopped at the elevator doors, his hand hovering over the down arrow. Looking back, he saw that the three men already had their weapons aimed at the double doors. LaRouge’s handgun wavered slightly in his hands, waiting for Barnes to press the button. Rex slammed the button down and immediately jumped back, his rifle trained on the elevator doors. He’s seen way too many instances where a soldier had let his guard down and had been overrun, not realizing that some could still be trapped inside an elevator or a house.

Seconds passed by, a bead of sweat dripped down his nose. Barnes ignored it, keeping his focus on the rifle’s iron sights.

Ding!

The elevator doors smoothly slid open, and like he’d predicted, half a dozen zombies stumbled out.

“Fire!” A series of gunshots rang out as the dead crumpled in a heap of gunfire. One of them was faster than the others though, one of those sprinting bastards. A man in a ragged business suit ran out, screaming for blood, and he came straight for Barnes.

“Shit.” His rifle slipped from his hands as he jogged backwards, his hand reaching for his sidearm. He cursed again, realizing that he’d given it to LaRouge.

“Hold your fire!” Barnes cried, not wanting to get hit. He knew that none of them were trained sharpshooters, and was willing to take his chances.

“Get back here!” LaRouge screamed, jogging around the roof and trying to get a shot.

“Just wait!” The businessman howled in rage, large gobs of gore flying out of his mouth. Blood dripped from his eyes  as he charged at Barnes, who had just reached the end of the roof. Just as the sprinter ran forward, Barnes ducked and wrapped his hands around the businessman’s waist. He lifted with all his might, leaning back ever so slightly as releasing his grasp. The howler’s cries drifted away as it plummeted down to the streets. Barnes looked over the edge of the roof, grimacing as it splattered against the pavement.

“You ok Sarge?” Mathews asked, he nodded.

“I’m fine.” Barnes shuddered as he walked across the roof and retrieved his rifle. He ejected the magazine and counted the rounds before slamming it back in the gun. Waving his hand, they all proceeded into the elevator. Waiting until everyone was inside,  he pressed the button for the ground floor.

The doors slowly slid closed, and the elevator hummed to life. Everybody sort of crowded towards the middle of the small area, not particularly wanting to be anywhere near the walls dripping with blood and puss. Barnes felt a cold shiver go down his spine as he heard moans echoing throughout the shaft, and prayed that Bravo team was alright.





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A small fire crackled off in the distance, small embers fluttered down into the dead lobby. Once a prosperous bank, the old building was now nothing more than a tomb and a shadow of its former self. A moan drifted throughout the old building, just another lost soul trapped in damnation.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Reese’s eyes fluttered open, one of them anyways. Her left eye was swollen so bad she could barely see out of it. Reese heard what sounded like padded hammers lightly being hit against a padded surface. She lay where she was, not even daring to move a muscle. The only thing heard was the faint crackle of a fire. Something was lightly brushing against her leg, but Reese ignored it for now, only concentrating on her pounding head.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It took her a few seconds to realize everything she was seeing was in red. Her fingers cracked as they lightly moved, and eventually formed into a fist. Reese slowly moved her hand up to her head, and realized there was a nasty gash on her forehead, and that her own blood had dripped into her eyes.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Feeling the tugging on her leg again, she slowly brought her hands up and pushed herself on her side with her elbows, and let out a painful scream of sheer terror. Dozens of the undead surrounded the chopper, their rotting faces pressed against what was left of the cockpit. Reese cried out again when she saw what was tugging on her leg. There were many breaches throughout the hull, rotting arms and faces were trying to claw their way in. In one particular breach, a hand was groping at her leg, trying to pull it into the opening.

“No!” Reese screamed, looking around for something, anything to use. Her arms ached as she pulled herself away, kicking the hand a few times. A crack was heard and fingers broke and she managed to sit up on her knees. Looking down, she saw a pair of hands pulling at Williams’ vest. She saw his chest rising and dropping slowly, indicating that he was still alive. A long streak of blood was across his face.

“Hey, wake up!” She grabbed Tom’s legs and yanked him back, struggling with the pair of hands trying to pull him out. She grunted with effort, Reese had never really been a strong girl.

“Where’s my gun…” She gave Tom’s legs a final tug before giving up, and instead looked around the cockpit. Kingston was lying face-down, eyes closed and a small trickle of blood flowing out of his mouth. He was lightly moaning, but that wasn’t what interested Reese.

“Come to momma.” She pulled his sidearm out of the holster and aimed the gun through the breach. She steadied her hands, as they were still shaking from the crash. Reese took a few steps closer, and practically stuck the handgun through the breach. Reese cried out as she pulled the trigger several times, shielding her eyes as the arms were blasted apart and coagulated blood exploded outward.

“Come on!” She yelled, firing off another string of bullets. One of the arms receded, broken and mangled and only hanging on by a few tendons. The gun slid from her fingers as she grabbed Tom’s legs and pulled him forward, out of harms way.

The moans of the dead began to increase as Reese heard a cracking sound. She turned around, a bit too fast. Her throbbing in her head increased from moving too fast. Cursing, she wobbly made her way to the front, and saw the windshield about to give in- and her sub machinegun, propped up by the chopper’s throttle. Reese had to turn her head a lot, being as she could only really see out of one eye, making sure none of the hands reaching in didn’t grab her. Reaching the front, she brushed by Ace, who was unconscious in his seat.

Her fingers brushed against the small automatic as she struggled to pull it free. Leaning forward a bit more, her hands grasped the gun. Pulling it out from beneath the throttle, Reese felt something thick and heavy drop on her shoulder. It rolled down and landed with a wet plop in front of her. Brain matter…

“What- oh…” Reese gagged on bile as she looked at Ace for the first time. He was still seated in his chair, his eyes lit up in shock and his mouth open in awe. The rotary had pierced the helicopter, and sliced through his forehead. Small lines of blood slowly ran down his face, the occasional piece of brain or skull fragment leaking down his face.

Reese was knocked out of her trance as the thick cracks began forming on the windshield. Giving Ace a final look, she ran her hand over his eyes, closing them so he wouldn’t have to see what was about to go down. Tom groaned as she climbed back into the hull. Reese dropped to her knees, shaking to Private.

“Wake up… come on, wake up!” Williams groaned, but stayed down. Reese reached into her pack, pulling out a canteen of water. It shook in her hands as she unscrewed the cap, tossing it to the side as she dumped the contents on Tom’s face. His eyes shot open as the cool water drenched him, washing away some of the blood on his face.

“Huh… ah…” Tom groaned, his hands coming up to his face. Reese shook his again.

“We don’t have time for this, get up!” The windshield gave in behind her, and the dead began to clamber in. The first of the dead, a little girl, reached a rotten hand out and scooped out a large chunk of what was left of Ace’s brain from his head cavity. She slowly brought it to her lips, squishing it between her fingers as she shoved it into her mouth. Chunks of the matter fell out from the corner of her lips as she devoured it before reaching forward for another handful.

Reese spun around, the sub machinegun aimed at crowd of the damned. Ace had already been pulled from his seat, and dragged outside of the wreck. His abdomen tore open as he was pulled over a sharp piece of glass, still in the frame. Rotten hands dug into his stomach and pulled out organs- Reese had enough. She closed her eyes, prayed to God, and open fired.