Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Absence and death are the same - only that in death there is no suffering.


-Theodore Roosevelt





   Reese Withers chewed on her thumb’s nail, her head leaning softly against the side of the Blackhawk. Dusk had fallen quickly, a combination of the black smoke blocking out the sun and the passing hours had really taken a toll. She shivered a slight breeze rolled in, her uniform only coming with short sleeves underneath the vest.

Barnes had  decided that it would be best for them to spend the night, and get an early start at dawn. Reese personally didn’t have a problem with this, it meant another day she was among the living, and not the dead. Didn’t matter anyways though, in the end they’d all end up as some rotting corpse stumbling around, or one of their meals. Reese turned her head as she heard someone walking over; it was Kingston.

The soldier smiled slightly as he rounded the copter and plopped himself down next to her.

“What’s up Sandra?” Jack asked as he made himself comfortable.

“Sandra?”

“Ah, sorry about that. You look like someone I knew once… Reese, is it?” She nodded, turning her head back to the city as she continued chewing on her nail. She wasn’t really in the mood for any chit-chat, Reese just wanted to be by herself at the moment. Jack moved himself a bit closer, causing her to make a face and slightly slide a bit over herself.

“I know this is random- completely out of the blue, but I’ve been meaning to ask you something…” Reese continued looking out at the city, transfixed on the building across from theirs. A few of the dead stumbled around on the roof, just moving around in circles. Every now and then, one of them would notice their presence, and try walking over. Of course, they’d end up plummeting over the edge. Idiots.

“Go on.” She said, still watching the building. It was hard to believe that the near extinction of the human race was taken out by creatures so slow and dumb.

“Well, I was thinking that if- no, when we make it back to Pennsylvania, I could make you dinner.” A slight smile formed on her lips as she finally looked away from the building. Kingston had a goofy look on his face as he waited patiently for an answer.

“You know, I never did crack your bone back into place.” She slid a bit closer to him; Kingston turned a bit red as she ran her hands along his arms, stopping at his makeshift cast. Reese rubbed the area where the bone penetrated through the skin, then swiftly bent his arm, cracking it. Jack let out a howl as she pressed down hard, forcing the bone back into place.

“If you’re going to ask someone out, make sure you get their name right.” Jack frowned as she began to unwrap his arm of the now bloody bandages. She tossed them over the edge when they were off, not really caring that she was littering. Nobody was around to give her a ticket.

“So is that a yes?” Kingston smiled weakly as she poured peroxide on his wound, taking a bit of pleasure out of the hiss he made when she did.

“No.” Reese ripped the package of bandages open with her teeth, then spit out the paper once it was open. Kingston grunted as she began wrapping his arm again.

“Damn lesbian…” He muttered. Reese pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. She tightened his new cast, then slammed her hand down on his wound. Jack screamed as she stood up and brushed herself off, not caring that his arm was bleeding again.

“Just for the record, you aren’t my type. I don‘t date pussies.”





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“We got everything?” Tom nodded as he hopped into the Blackhawk.

“Yeah!”

“Good.” Barnes jogged over to the bird after he looked over the roof once more. The helicopter roared he hopped in and it slowly lifted off; a small dust cloud kicked up as it took off. Rex made his way to the front, gripping to the back of LaRouge’s seat.

“Take us around the stadium, don’t land without my ok!”

“You got it!” LaRouge yelled back. Rex patted him on the shoulder as he made his way back to the others. He sat down, grabbing onto one of the holds to keep himself upright.

“We don’t know what we’re going to find down there!” He yelled over the wind. One of the doors was open, and the Minigun was set up for use. They didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Barnes cringed as he thought of how bad that crash could have been. While they did lose a good pilot and a soldier, things could have been a hell of a lot worse.

“I need all of you to be on your toes, and watch each other’s backs!” Christ, he couldn’t even hear himself talking over the Blackhawk. Barnes walked over to the open door and pulled it shut momentarily, he kept his hand on the latch.

“I need you all to watch out for each other, stick close together.” He started again. “Let’s just get the shit, and get the hell out!” Private Mathews grinned at this.

“I hear that!”

“As do I, Sarge!” LaRouge called back from the front. Rex grinned, glad that everyone else also felt the way he did. Barnes was fed up with these pointless missions. Back at camp, they had more than enough rations to last for months. Even if they did need more, they could just raid the supermarket, or head back to the high school where the other outpost still held their food supply. Wasn’t like the dead needed to eat.

Sergeant Barnes looked out the window, still keeping his hand on the latch just in case. The stadium came into view now. Even though the skies were filled with smoke and the city was overrun by the living dead, the Browns Stadium still looked in its prime.

“There she blows!” LaRouge yelled as he flew the Blackhawk over it. Rex strained to see what was actually inside of the stadium as LaRouge slowed the chopper down a bit. The field was crawling with the dead, even this high up he could see them still feasting on military-clad corpses. Looking over at the stands, it was no different. The dead stumbled over the seats, chasing after any remaining survivors that had tried to flee. They were doomed.

What really interested him though, was what was landed in the middle of the field. A Chinook helicopter, perfectly intact. The dead paid little attention to it, their only objective being to feed. He turned back to the group.

“Lock and load, everyone! We’ve got a shit ton of undead bastards to deal with…” Barnes went over to the weapons locker and opened the doors, grinning down at the display of rifles and shotguns.

“Holy shit!” Williams said as he glanced out the window. “You sure about this?”

“I’m positive. Fuck the rations, we’ll hit up a Costco on the way back. We just need that Chinook, and we’re set.” Williams nodded as he rubbed his chin.

“Fair enough… but who will fly it?” Barnes’ heart sank, he hadn’t thought of that. They’d lost their other pilot, and LaRouge couldn’t fly both at once. Rex has been a soldier for over a decade now, and had been in helicopters countless times. He’d watched pilots before fly the birds… but it probably wasn’t enough.

“We’ll worry about that later…” He said as everyone began grabbing a weapon and loading up on magazines and shells of ammo. Dull clicks and weapons cocking filled the cockpit as everybody loaded up. Barnes looked in the locker and grabbed one of the only weapons left- and H&K MSG rifle. He’d used the gun a few times before, and it had never let him done. Reaching back in the locker, he pulled out a few magazines for it and shoved them into his vest. Barnes shouldered the rifle and made his way to the front.

“Lower us down, I’m going to clear us a way!”

“Sure thing, sir! Take ‘em out!” Rex nodded.

“Don’t worry, I will!” He turned away and slid open the doors of the Blackhawk, and mounted himself behind the Minigun. LaRouge slowly lowered the bird down into the feet, and kept it hovering around thirty feet above the massive crowd of the dead. In unison, they all stopped and turned towards the Blackhawk- the new source of food. Moans were heard as they all began stumbling towards it- and Rex open fired.

The Minigun whined as it began spinning, warming up. A few seconds passed, the moans of the dead now reaching a crescendo. As his eyes locked with a howler, the gun burst to life. Hundreds of rounds spat out of the gun as the first wave of the dead were obliterated. The once grand field became littered with gore and limbs as Barnes swept the gun across the field. Grass and dirt kicked up in  piles as he sprayed another wave of the dead.

The Sergeant growled as the spinning barrels started to glow red. He turned the gun left and right- heads flew off, torsos were torn, and amputations occurred. Barnes let go of the trigger- the spinning barrels of death slowly spinning to a stop. The main field was destroyed, most of the grass was reduced to dirt and every square foot was covered with death. A large area had been formed for the chopper to land, most of the dead in the field had been sent back to hell.

“Bring her down!” Barnes shouted.

“I’m on it!” LaRouge lowered the Blackhawk, gently bringing it down in the center of the field- then pulling back up. “Clear out those body parts, I can’t land like this!” LaRouge called back.

“Why the hell not?” Barnes saw the zombies in the stands were making their way down, they needed to hurry.

“It’s bad to land lopsided, when we take off again it could tip. Now clear the area, or we aren’t landing!” Barnes cursed and went over to the medic.

“Withers, you’re with me!” She nodded, standing up and clenching her submachine gun.

“Yes sir!” Rex jumped out of the helicopter, LaRouge kept it hovering around five feet above. He turned around and held out a hand, waiting for Withers to jump down. He aided her, then began kicking limbs out of the way.

“You got any latex gloves in there?” He asked as he kicked a leg out of the way. The medic nodded and pulled out a small box.

“Good idea, this will save us from getting infected.” They both slipped on a pair, the powdery gloves slipped right on. Barnes looked up as he heard slight pops from a rifle, and saw Tom firing away at the stands. Looking back, he saw the dead stumbling over each other and onto the field- time was running out.

“Hurry up!” He grabbed an arm and threw it aside. He grabbed a corpse by the legs and began pulling it away, and jumped when its eyes shot open. Before a moan could even leave its lips, Barnes pulled out his sidearm and fired off a single shot into its head. He dropped its legs and ran over to Reese, who grunting as she tried pulling a corpse out of the way. Reaching down, his hands wrapped around the corpse’s arms. The man had been a big guy while alive, he easily weighed over three-hundred pounds.

“Come on you fat fuck…” Barnes grit his teeth as he slowly dragged him out of the way. He let go of the man’s arms, letting the thump to the field as he ran out in front of the helicopter and waved his arms in the air. LaRouge mouthed something and was pointing at Barnes- no, behind him. He turned around-

“Shit!” Three howlers had hopped down from the stands, and were sprinting his way. Looking over at the medic, he saw that Withers had forgotten her gun in the helicopter.

“Hey, over here!” He waved his arms in the air as he began sprinting down the field. The howlers screamed in rage as they chased after him. As he ran, he unstrapped his MSG and checked the make sure it was loaded; it was. Turning around and leaning down on a knee, he took aim, squinting his left eye and looking down the small scope with his right.

The closest howler had its arms outstretched, one of its hands was opening and closing as it reached out for him. Barnes fired, the round split its head open and caused it to collapse mid stride. It rolled a few times, and tripped the howler behind it. The other one ran around them; blood leaked from the sides of its mouth as it screamed again.

Barnes let loose, pulling the trigger several times. Its head jerked back as the rounds slammed into it, brain matter exploding out from behind. Altering his aim, he saw that the howler that tripped had stood back up. This one was different from the others though. The howler was clad in riot gear; bulletproof armor. It was wearing a helmet, and its face mask was down. Barnes could see the inside was covered in blood where the howler had spit it up, and saw it was missing one of its gloves. On this hand, was a small bite mark.

“Shit…” Barnes aimed at its head and fired. The bullet pinged off the helmet, and the howler kept running. “Shit!” Barnes said again as he fired again, hitting it in the chest. His vest absorbed the round, and did little but slow it down for a brief moment. Rex stood up and looked through the scope, and saw that its neck was exposed. He fired off two more shots- and the rifle clicked empty. The first round ricocheted off its helmet, and the second was absorbed by its vest. Ejecting the magazine, he fished another out of his vest as he began quickly stepping back. Slapping it into the gun, he pulled back the bolt and loaded another in.

The howler cried out as it neared, sending a shiver down the Sergeant’s spine. As he backpedaled, he cried out as his boot slipped on a limb and sent him on his ass. The howler was a few feet away now- there’s no way he’d be able to get back up in time.

“Come on…” He mumbled, waiting until the howler was almost on top of him. Rex lifted both of his legs and caught the carrier in the gut, and shoved his legs outward. The howler screamed as it flew through the air and landed on its back. The Sergeant jumped up, placing his boot on its chest and holding it down. The zombie thrashed about underneath him, which put a slight smile on his face.

“Bastard.” Barnes stuck the barrel of his rifle under its chin and pulled the trigger several times. He instantly heard a sick popping sound as its inner facemask was covered in blood, and its spasms and movements stopped.

“Sarge, quit screwing around and get to the Chinook!” LaRouge yelled over the intercom. He pulled his rifle up, and wiped the barrel of his gun on the howler’s vest, getting the gunk off. As he began jogging towards the Chinook, he saw that the entire team was engaged. The dead poured in to the field, and were met with a barrage of gunfire. He seriously needed to hurry his ass up.

Barnes clenched his rifle tight as he ran past the 50-yard line and to the back of the Chinook.

“Fuck!” The back hatch was firmly closed. He looked around feverishly, and ran around the helicopter until he found the side door. This, too, was closed. The one window was unlatched, though, and the opening was just big enough for him to reach inside and unlock it. Barnes stepped inside and slammed the door shut. He made his way to the front and looked over the controls, trying to remember what the hell he needed to do. His heart skipped a beat as he heard something shuffle behind him. Slowly turning his head, Barnes turned around.

“What the…” The hull was filled with people, living people. Barnes reached in his vest and pulled out a flashlight, illuminating the faces of dozens of… children. Barnes swept the light across them, and saw they were all crying. Most of them hung close to each other, their faces nestled in one another. It took him a moment to realize they were all clinging around a single woman in the center of the group. Rex shined the light on her, and could see the worry in her eyes. She looked to be in her late thirties, and was wearing a long summer dress. Her hair was all out of place, and a few dirt smudges lined her face.

“Pl-please… don’t hurt us…” She stammered. Barnes shouldered his rifle and stepped forward, holding a hand out in front of him.

“Hey, calm down.” He said, his voice seemed muted in the confined space. The children all began to squirm as he neared, even the woman seemed off edge. “I’m not going to hurt you, just take it easy…” Barnes unclipped his radio and flipped it on.

“LaRouge!” He waited a moment before the radio crackled to life. Gunfire was heard before the pilot answered.

“What? What the hell’s takin’ you?” He replied, Barnes sighed.

“The Chinook- it’s full of civi’s.”

“What?”

“I’m inside, and it’s full of children! We can’t leave ‘em here.” Barnes waited a moment before LaRouge came back on.

“We have our orders, check with Taft. Over and out.”

“Damn it.” Barnes changed frequencies on his radio before talking again. “Taft, it’s Barnes. Come in, over.” He held up a finger to the group, and did a mental head count of each one while he waited. “Taft, come in!” Twenty-three people. An entire city, and only twenty-three people made it? All children?

“Report Sergeant.” His radio barked. Barnes took a deep breath before replying.

“I found a group of civilians, we’ve commandeered the Chinook. Permission to take them along, over.” Taft reply was almost instantaneous.

“Denied. You have your orders, Sergeant.” Barnes frowned.

“What? Taft, come in!” He rubbed his radio against his vest, holding the transmission button down as he did so. “Losing…” He let go of the button.

“Sergean-” Barnes turned his radio off.

“Fuck it.” He turned back towards the people. “Don’t you worry, you’ll all be safe soon.” Barnes switched the frequency on his radio yet again. Making his way to the front and looking out, he saw that the dead were slowly closing in on the Blackhawk.

“LaRouge, come in.” He looked out and saw the pilot firing an assault rifle at the hip, standing on the rails of the helicopter, the rotary still spinning. LaRouge stopped firing and picked up his radio.

“I’m here, sir.”

“Tell everyone to pull back and take off.” Barnes strapped himself into the seat.

“What about you?” LaRouge asked over gunfire.

“You’re going to teach me how to fly.”