So Macon challenged me to a contest to see who could write another chapter first.
Ok.
I win.
Written this morning. (first part is old)
- - -
It didn't take the group long to get reacquainted. It was almost mystical, Wolf mused, how the morale jumped with the reuniting of the two units. The way the near-silent laughter and whispered stories filled the gloom was surreal, as though the soldiers suddenly stopped believing in the dangers just above.
For those ten minutes, time that seemed like an eternity, the world was a better place. Even Wolf, being pulled into groups of bloody and wounded men who laughed like children at the introduction of the new member, felt lighter and at ease. He was listening to one of the members, Plankie he said his name was, describing the circumstances regarding each notch on the grungy fire axe he wielded when Butcher gave a low whistle, and immediately the entire group went silent and turned.
Butcher and CR spoke in low voices between themselves a moment. The Alpha squad leader turned to the assembled group. "Alright, that's all we can do for a break for the moment. We need to get moving. Hopefully at this point Bravo has linked up with the rest of the survivors and are either on their way to or are at the JLC. I'll try to make contact with them when we aren't underground," he informed them.
Combo stepped forward, letting his bull-pup rest lightly under his arm. "Alright, Alpha team is leading us out, they have the guns and the R&R, so they'll be more combat effective. Dastard, Plankie, you'll be pulling Mortan again. Vonapier, Zynth, you'll cover our flanks," he commanded. He turned to the small group of civilians who stood, worry on their faces, clutching their limited weaponry protectively. "You'll cover the rear. This is what we've been waiting for. A ticket home. It's only a few blocks away. Don't give up on me now," he finished.
The groups silently assembled, a few more words of encouragement and handshakes between them. Lara placed a hand on Mortan's cheek and kissed him lightly, smiling at him before whispering something in parting before rejoining Alpha.
Butcher nodded quietly to CR and started moving down the underground corridor. Alpha followed, with Charlie and the civilians trailing behind. Wolf felt the fingers of panic creeping into his chest again, and forced himself to calm down, angry that he would be terrified again after all they just survived.
The team arrived at the far end of the utility tunnel, and an identical set of concrete stairs led up to god-knew where. Behind him, Wolf could hear weapons cocking as the soldiers readied themselves.
- - -
Out of way. Hurts. Hunger like ice. So many, so many as always. Friends, not food. Food is in wall. Underneath. Can smell, smells good. Flesh. Blood. So long. So few. Constant hurt, hurts, pain. Sound. Metal. Far away. Can see, smell, taste the air. They run, scurry, flee. They see. We see. Will eat. Run now.
- - -
They came out quickly and methodically, swinging their weapons to bear with a crisp, snapping motion, ready for whatever lay beyond the exit. The sun was blinding after being underground, and they tried to keep their gazes downcast to avoid leaving themselves helpless.
Charlie followed behind, Plankie with his axe slung in his belt and Mortan on his back. Dastard came out behind, keeping an eye on the two. Combo, Zynth and Vonapier covering and overlapping their cover with Alpha. The two civilians came last, nervous but determined.
Butcher looked down the road behind them. Two blocks away, the horde they evaded milled about, scratching at the wall of the building they vanished into. Almost by accident one of the monsters, a plain, human looking one, glanced up and met the leader's gaze.
"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath. Like a rotting tide, the mass turned towards them awkwardly, pushing one another to get a look.
"Run," ZB said. "RUN!"
They didn't need a third warning. As one, they turned and ran. Plankie grit his teeth under the weight of his wounded comrade and pushed himself to keep up. The creatures had broken into a mad dash for them, and more continued to pour from behind buildings and around the corner they had come from.
Wolf ran beside Abyx, trying not to think of his burning limbs or his labored lungs, only of the delapidated dome that patiently awaited in the distance. He estimated two and a half blocks. They were all wounded, exhausted, or both, and even fresh outrunning those things would have been impossible. The monsters didn't tire, didn't feel frustration, didn't give up.
But they didn't have to outrun them. They just had to make it to the dome. The dome where two men in fatigues stood guard in the distance, watching them run.
Bravo team.
- - -
Pixel stared down the scope of his assault rifle's scope, the 2x magnification showing him his running comrades and the rapidly gaining swarm that followed close behind them. Micah, who stood at the other side of the door, knelt down and shouldered his sniper rifle, taking a bead on the lead creatures.
"Once they pass the police roadblock there, open fire on the closest targets," Pixel said, voice tense.
"Affirmative," Micah responded, unmoving and slowly breathing. He saw two of them, Mortan and Plankie, stumble and slow. Dastard stopped and took the wounded soldier on his own back and kept running, Plankie in close pursuit. They were twenty feet past the police barricade, filing through the narrow opening in the middle, when the first of the infected scrambled through. Micah took a breath, held it, felt his heart beat and squeezed the trigger. The thing's head exploded, showering skull fragments and steaming pieces of brain over the lined up squad cars. The second and third through the hole received the same. The trickle became a stream at that point, and Pixel opened fire with his bullpup, tracing burst fire through the lead monsters and slowing them down for Micah to pick off.
Butcher and Macon hit the stairs first, taking them three at a time. Butcher dropped to a knee beside Pixel, drawing his two 9 millimeter pistols and firing on the approaching crowd. Macon turned and stood beside the door, ushering everyone in, his hands clutching his shotgun as his tried to catch his breath.
The infected reached the bottom of the stairs just as Dastard was dragging Mortan through the door. Butcher and Macon fell back through, followed closely by the two Bravos, who dropped their weapons quickly and drew arc welders.
Wolf saw that they had previously welded large plates of metal to the back of the doors that overlapped when closed. They began to weld them down, sealing the door with layers of metal. They were both only a foot along when the creatures hit the other side, jarring it on its hinges.
The rest of Bravo was set up amongst the rubble that littered the field, illuminated by the sun that streamed in through the massive hole in the ceiling. Ian stood beside a mounted machine gun that looked rusted and worn, a relic from a previous battle there. The newest Alpha noticed the group of civilians who stood nervously some distance behind the firing lines. He counted twelve heads, men, women and children.
Gib, Combo and Butcher met at the edge of the field. The rest of Alpha and Charlie stood around, still breathing heavily from the run.
"Glad to see you guys are ok," Gib said, looking at the two.
"Luckily, we all made it in one piece. Thank fuck for small favors," Butcher said, reloading his pistol clips.
"What happened to you guys?" Combo asked, looking over the civilians. One girl, about 14, met his gaze as she wiped her red eyes with a dirty hand.
Gib shrugged and looked around. "The civilians were waiting here for us when we arrived. Said they had been travelling with you guys and split up. I guess they ran into trouble, but the two who were leading them, some long haired guy and a punk kid, managed to act as a decoy. They got here without a problem," he explained.
