Before the Dead Walked, page 12
The afternoon passed without incident as they made their way up the coat. They didn’t see another living human being, which was quite a relief. When they spotted a sizeable network of piers and docks, the Rangers knew they had safely reached Aktau, Kazakhstan. They beached the boat, but took their fresh catch with them. Entering the markets of Aktau, Sergeant Ramirez simply handed off the basket of fish to one female vendor whose supply of choices was pretty sparse. She looked at him with shocked delight, but also knew better than to ask questions or make a fuss.
“That was nice of you,” Specialist Powers commented.
Ramirez shrugged. “Better it didn’t go to waste.”
They had barely entered the market district, when the Rangers heard screams, followed closely by gunfire. Instead of continuing in that direction, the six men broke away from the crowded stalls and darted into the alleys, heading north out of the city.
There was more commotion and the frightened cries of people feeling increased. Likewise, the sounds of gunshots came more rapidly. Something was definitely wrong.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sergeant Stillwell urged. “I think those zombies might be here too.”
Suddenly, someone running headlong along a side corridor collided with Sergeant Ramirez, almost knocking him over. Pedro slammed against the alley wall, but the man started ranting and raving, foaming at the mouth. His eyes were glazed over with a grey film.
“What the fuck!” Ramirez shouted.
The man launched himself at the sergeant, sinking his teeth into Pedro’s extended right arm.
“Yow!” the Ranger cried out.
Ratta-atta-tat-tat barked his AK47, cleaving the man in half. However, the poor creature wasn’t dead. Darby, who was the first to recover from this interruption, pulled out his Berretta and shot the poor soul between the eyes. The half torso stopped moving and lay still, black ooze seeping out of every bullet hole.
“Shit!” Ramirez shouted. “I’m going to turn into a fucking zombie.”
Without hesitation, Sergeant Stillwell cleaned the wound and wrapped it with a quick-clot bandage. “We’ll shoot you dead, if you so much as drool, you big dumb Mexican.”
“Thanks,” Ramirez said stoically. “Thanks a lot.”
“Hand your weapon to the Chief, Pedro,” Darby ordered.
“But Sarge,” Ramirez protested.
The First Sergeant grabbed Pedro by the collar. “If you turn, we’ll shoot you dead, but I won’t have you carrying a weapon around until we know for sure you’re not infected.”
Ramirez hung his head. “Okay.”
“Now let’s get moving,” Darby growled. “Somebody is bound to investigate. Now get the lead out!”
The Rangers hustled out of the city, running over the dunes, past the outlying dirt huts and disappeared down the first ravine they found. Four of them kept close tabs on Ramirez. Regretfully, if Pedro acted strangely in any way, he would be shot in the head.
Remarkably, after moving steadily for over five hours, there was no change in Sergeant Ramirez’s physical condition or his health. He kept up with everybody, didn’t complain about the bite, and only drank water sparingly. When they took a break, everybody commented on how weird it was that Pedro was still okay.
Warily, Stillwell changed the bandage. Instead of discovering some festering mess, the teeth marks were clean. He was already on the mend.
“Now this is strange, Sarge,” Bailey said after examining the wound.
“What is?” Darby asked.
“Instead of some disgusting blob, Pedro is already healing,” Sergeant Stillwell said. “Look, the old bandage doesn’t have any gross shit on it, just this idiot wetback’s dried blood.”
The First Sergeant looked at Ramirez. “How do you feel?”
“A little tired, a little thirsty, and a little hungry,” Pedro replied.
“We’re all that,” Specialist Powers said.
It was CWO Collins who made the critical observation. “I wonder if that cow bee sting had anything to do with his condition.”
The other men all looked at the chief.
He shrugged, but then said, “It’s the only possible explanation. Somehow the venom in the bee’s stinger counteracted the zombie’s infected bite.”
Darby leaned back against a sandstone pillar. He took out his Army-issued cell phone and took photos of Ramirez’s bee sting on his leg and then the zombie bite on his arm. He texted them to his secure contact at the Pentagon with a simple explanation, which read:
Sergeant Pedro Ramirez stung by African Cow Bee, which is actually a hornet. He was then bitten by an infected human. He HAS NOT TURNED. No conclusions, but possible connection between the two. SAD TEAM ECHO
Chapter 10
One-Way Trip to Oblivion
While Ensign Alvarez gathered her equipment and personal kitbag, Colonel Hatch drove to the control tower. He had to think fast and come up with a valid reason for procuring the C-130 without Pentagon authorization. After all, the official operation had been completed. Jenkins and Hatch were supposed to catch a flight to Kuwait hours earlier.
“Good afternoon, Colonel Hatch,” greeted the duty officer. “What can I do for you?”
“I need permission to fly out my C-130 tonight,” Hatch said.
“No can do, sir,” the major said. “General Marcus has grounded everything until he gets a clearer picture of what’s going on in Kabul.”
“Is General Marcus available?” the colonel asked. “I’d like to talk to him.”
The major simply shook his head.
“Oh well, you can’t fault a guy for trying,” Hatch said. “Keep your head down, Major Stahls.”
“You too, Colonel,” the major said.
They exchanged salutes.
Hatch skipped down the stairs and exited into the fresh air.
Ensign Alvarez, as stunning as ever, was standing right there, leaning on the Humvee. “What did he say?”
“He said no, like the loser piece of shit he is,” Robert replied candidly.
Lupita looked at him, studied him, waiting for him to deal his cards. “So?”
Hatch unleashed his signature warm, disarming, delightful smile. “Fuck that loser. We’re wheels up as soon as I can get everything together.”
Alvarez stepped up to him, close enough to smell his cologne and too close to back off. “You know, Colonel Hatch, I think you and I should have met years ago.”
“The name is Robert, as you damn well know by now,” Hatch corrected her. “It’s a good thing we didn’t meet years ago, because I would never have made it to colonel. Lupita, let’s make some music and screw these by-the-book assholes, shall we?”
She giggled and took his hand. “I’m all yours, Robert.”
He looked at her, with a sudden and apparent affection. “If we live through all of this, I hope to hell you will be mine.”
It was the way he said it that made Lupita catch her breath.
Meanwhile, inside the cockpit of the C-130D, Captain Jenkins was rapidly going through the pre-flight checklist, while constantly checking that the refueling process continued uninterrupted.
Hatch climbed into the pilot’s seat in time to welcome Lupita aboard. “I’m pleased to see you, Ensign Alvarez. Throw your gear anywhere and get ready for a quick departure.”
She actually blushed because his affection for her was so obvious. “Thank you, Robert.”
“We might not have enough fuel to get to Alaska, Ensign,” Colonel Hatch informed her. “Our best bet is to head for Russia where we might be able to beg or barter for more fuel. As it is, we have to find some backwoods landing strip to land on to pick up the Rangers, whenever we actually find them.”
His suggestion instantly alarmed her. She started to say something, but then shook her head instead. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Hatch sighed. “Look sweetheart, I’m very fond of you, but if you don’t start trusting me with the truth, we’re going to have quite an argument and you’re not going to like the end result. I can only stand being lied to so many times, okay?”
Lupita nodded. “Of course, Colonel you’re right. I just don’t want to end up dead in some alleyway because I broke my cover.”
Hatch leaned forward, his index finger pointed right at her flight suit zipper. “Nobody is going to mess with you, honey, not on my watch. You’re under my protection now and the whole goddamn United States and the former Soviet Union can go to hell for all I care. Now tell me what the fuck is going on!”
The ensign hesitated, gathering enough courage to continue. Lupita really liked this gentleman, even if he was ancient. He was charismatic, charming, and ruggedly handsome too. Most of all, Colonel Robert Hatch was the most genuine and caring man she had ever met. That didn’t mean she could fall in love with him, but she certainly cared about him.
So Ensign Alvarez reached out and took his hands in hers before looking him in the eyes. He was well aware that she was evaluating him more closely than any man before him, at least in a long time.
He liked that and waited patiently, even though they could all be dead in a matter of hours.
“My name is Lupita Alvarez and I did achieve the rank of ensign in the United States Navy,” she began. “I was recruited directly out of Annapolis for Naval Intelligence because I have this uncanny skill to learn stuff quickly. Recently I’ve been on loan to the CIA. I’m here in Afghanistan investigating the recent murder of a US government official.”
The colonel took her hand in his and entwined her fingers. “I’m old enough to be your father, Lupita, but I am obligated to protect you. Do you trust me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t trust anybody.”
Hatch grinned. “Good. That proves how smart you are.”
“We didn’t get clearance, sir, so if we’re going to go, we’ve got to go right now, sir,” Jenkins shouted from the cockpit. “I’m starting the engines!”
Colonel Hatch was disappointed by the interruption, but wise enough to grab at the opportunity to escape Afghanistan before everybody around him died.
He leaned over and kissed Lupita on the forehead. “We’ll pick up right where we left off, but the time has come to vacate the premises.”
The ensign scooted into her seat and buckled up.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jenkins spotted trouble. “Sir, there’s an Afghan security officer approaching.”
“Jesus Christ can’t these people mind their own fucking business?” he grumbled. “I’ll take care of this. You make sure we’re ready to depart in less than 10, and I mean 10 minutes.”
“Roger that, sir,” the captain agreed.
The colonel looked over his shoulder at Lupita. “We have an unwanted visitor. If anything goes wrong, you tell Captain Jenkins to take off, with or without clearance, and make a beeline for Kazakhstan. You would at least have a chance there. Do you understand?”
She was uncomfortable with his demand, but nodded anyway. “Yes, Colonel, I understand completely.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “Good! I’ll be along shortly. See if you can help the captain with his preflight checklist, if you don’t mind?”
Hatch didn’t wait for a response. The colonel hurried through the cargo bay and down the rear ramp. Alvarez noticed his sidearm was tucked behind his back.
Hatch put on a fake smile and offered his hand in greeting.
However, the Afghan officer wasn’t so friendly. “What are you doing on that airplane, sir?”
“Getting it ready for departure,” the colonel replied.
“All planes have been grounded, sir,” the security officer said. “There are no exceptions, sir.”
Hatch cocked his head to one side. “Momentarily, I will have special clearance directly from the Pentagon. I already have departure orders from General Marcus.”
The colonel handed over his forged papers.
“This is not possible,” the Afghan officer stated after glancing at them. “This officer is not currently on duty and could not have issued these orders. I must seize your documents and place you under arrest, sir.”
The colonel turned and looked into cargo bay of the Hercules. He could see Ensign Alvarez and Captain Jenkins watching him.
Calmly and casually, Robert Hatch drew his service 1911 .45 automatic and pointed it at the Afghan security officer.
“This is no time for conversation,” the colonel said.
Kablam.
He shot the man stone dead.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Hatch shouted, pushing his makeshift crew up the ramp. “Jenkins, get this beast ready to depart.”
“I’m on it, sir,” the captain called back.
The propellers were already turning as the rear cargo door closed.
“Take a seat, everybody and buckle up tight. I’ll need your help once we’re airborne.”
The colonel slipped past Alvarez and winked at her.
Hatch jumped into the pilot’s seat and began the fastest flight list in human history. “Cut the bullshit, let’s be on our way.”
“Roger that, sir,” Jenkins said. “I don’t think anybody would blame you for skipping accepted protocol, sir, under the circumstances.”
Hatch chuckled and disengaged the brakes. The C-130 began to move forward, just as the security sirens began to blare. The colonel headed straight for the runway, cutting across the tarmac and sand, shortening the angle of departure dramatically.
“Gulf Oscar Alpha Tango 594, you do NOT have clearance for departure,” spoke a stern voice from Control. “Do not attempt to take off, or you will be fired upon.”
“What kind of air defense systems do they have at this dump?” the colonel asked anybody who was listening.
Air Force Airman Dawson entered the cockpit. “They have a Patriot missile system, but it will take too long to get it active. You’ll come under small arms fire and a few fifties. That’s about it, sir.”
Hatch grinned and patted the young man on the thigh. “See, you’ve already paid for your ticket. Take a seat, son, this is going to be hairy.”
Gaining speed rapidly, the C-130D trundled down the strip. Overall, the base reaction time was pretty poor, which was probably the direct result of the pandemonium that overtook everyone earlier. The possibility of an oncoming zombie infestation was distracting enough, without having some rogue US colonel hijacking one of their airplanes.
The colonel was really pushing the old girl, gaining takeoff speed as quickly as he dared.
Lurch.
The specially designed aircraft was suddenly airborne.
To avoid interdiction and antiaircraft fire, Hatch waited until the last possible moment, before lifting into the air. As the wheels went up, he stayed low, barely clearing the hangars. The sound of bullets hitting the fuselage echoed throughout the cargo bay and the crew ducked to the floor. The colonel banked hard to the left, then brought the C-130 back over to the right, before dipping. As long as the old girl didn’t stall, Hatch had every intention of putting this bird through the ropes. Poor Captain Jenkins tried to anticipate what the pilot would do next, but couldn’t help closing his eyes several times. Once out of range, Hatch quickly climbed for altitude. The Hercules didn’t seem any worse for wear, but the colonel wanted to make sure.
“Have Airman Dawson check for any damage and run a diagnostics on the fuel,” the colonel ordered. “I don’t want any surprises.”
“I’ll tell him,” Ensign Alvarez volunteered. “You two keep your eyes on the sky. They might scramble some fighters.”
Hatch looked at Jenkins and simultaneously they both said, “I hope not.”
“Colonel, sir, shouldn’t I make sure…”
Captain Jenkins never got a chance to finish his question.
“Do you want to get out and walk?” Hatch shouted.
The captain shook his head.
“Good, then do as you’re told,” the colonel barked. “As soon as I give the word, I want you to disconnect all the lines and jettison those fucking tanks, hoses and any other equipment we don’t need. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
The captain nodded emphatically. “I’m on it, sir.”
“That’s a good lad,” Hatch called after him as Jenkins unbuckled, and slipped past Ensign Alvarez talking to the young airman Dawson. The copilot was desperately holding on to anything he could grab. Lupita returned to her seat and buckled in.
As Jenkins entered the cargo hold, he shouted at all the passengers, who looked mildly upset. “Hold on tight. We are about to jettison all this shit, so it’s all going to tumble past you. Get your legs up!”
The rear ramp lowered and Captain Jenkins, at great risk to his own life, disengaged the restraining clamps on all the tanks and dispersal lines. Fighting against both the upward slant of the climbing C-130 and the forces of gravity, the captain successfully negotiated his way back to the cockpit door.
He slapped the intercom button, shouting, “Ready to dump a load, sir.”
Jenkins heard Hatch laugh out loud.
The aircraft climbed at even a steeper angle.
“See ya!” Jenkins called out.
All that million dollar equipment went cascading out the back. To Colonel Robert Hatch, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that the nasty operation had been summarily discontinued.
The rear cargo door went back up and closed.
Once he was certain it was secure, Captain Jenkins returned to his copilot seat.
“Richard, will you take the controls for awhile, please?” Hatch requested. “I need to talk to the ensign in private.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Jenkins agreed. “Should I stay on this heading?”
The pilot nodded.
Hatch unclamped his seatbelt and got up to sit across from Ensign Alvarez. He plugged his headphones into an open socket and switched channels, so they could have some privacy. He lowered his voice-mike into place, but didn’t know where he should begin.
She looked at him in such a way that made him feel more at ease for what he was about to discuss. Lupita made him feel capable and special, things he hadn’t felt for years. There was no doubt he had fallen in love with her.
