Read LZR-1143: Evolution Online

Authors: Bryan James

Tags: #Zombies, #Lang:en, #LZR-1143

LZR-1143: Evolution (13 page)

BOOK: LZR-1143: Evolution
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All the sand, and the shirtless, fat, pallid city-dwellers that flocked to the area like overstuffed lemmings; it all drove me nuts. It was one of the reasons I couldn’t stand public beaches, and wanted to move to New York City so soon after graduation.

I know Maria suspected my intentions, but I was always a forest and mountain man, and if we were forced by circumstance to take all our vacations in a cabin on the top of a mountain with a roaring fireplace, instead of laying next to a coconut-flavored obese lawyer from D.C., well ... so be it.

A new voice crackled over the intercom. It was another SEAL from the rear of the cabin, who was poring over a map as we flew.

“Yeah, this is one of the new things we’ve noted from the last few days. When this all started, they were random. They just tore off after anyone or anything that moved. According to recent reports and radio chatter, as well as some damn freaky stories from survivors we brought onboard, they’re starting to group up.”

He adjusted his rifle across his lap, and moved his microphone closer to his mouth to compensate for the volume of the gusting wind outside. Next to me, Kate leaned forward.

“You don’t see as many on their own any more. They tend to flock together.”

She started her question even before he was finished.

“But doesn’t that make it harder to kill them?”

He lifted his hand horizontal to the ground and rotated it back and forth in the universal symbol for maybe.

“Yes, if you’re just packing small arms. But not if you’ve got some high-end weapons like a fully auto cannon or some explosives. One thing’s for sure though. They are definitely harder to hold off and avoid when they’re in these packs. With enough numbers, they can crush fences, wooden barricades ... Shit, they can even overwhelm normal machine gun positions if you give ‘em enough time. Fuckin’ dangerous in herds, that’s for sure.”

Kate sat back against the seat and turned toward me, eyes worried.

So they were changing their behavior?

I wasn’t a scientist; hell, I wasn’t that bright at all, but I knew that to be a troubling development. The instinct to stick together—to become more dangerous through group dynamics—was really troubling. Not because it was foreign, but because it was just too damn human.

From the headset, the pilot’s voice intruded, “Passing over the Delaware state line now. ETA in to Dover is approximately 20 minutes. We’ve got some increase in the gusts coming off the ocean and we’re going to have to put down if we can. It’s just not safe to be flying any longer than necessary in this weather.”

“Solid copy,” said Peters, turning to the assembled SEALs.

“You heard him, ladies. Get locked and loaded and ready for prime time in 20. We are to assume this is a hot LZ and will move to secure an expanding area of influence around the helos when we land, you got that?”

I didn’t. I didn’t know what the crap he had just said.

Why did the military have to turn actual language into indecipherable jargon? I mean really. What did the English language ever do to them?

Kate’s hand found mine as we sat, the increasingly violent vibrations of the helicopter preventing private conversation, and rendering us silent as we waited for the landing.

As we approached the airfield, a sudden jolt in the aircraft made us lose about ten feet of altitude. Next to me, Kate cursed loudly and profusely enough to be heard over the noise in the cabin. I smiled, despite myself, and gripped her hand harder.

Peters’ voice came over the intercom again, firm and deliberate.

“Okay, get tight ladies, we’re approaching the target.”

Immediately on the heels of his last sentence, the pilot’s voice shot out, “2 minutes LT, and not a moment too soon. These winds are kicking up something fierce. I am going to do one full circle of the LZ before we touch down. We have very limited visibility, so stay frosty. We don’t know what we’ve got down there.”

The voice cut out and Kate and I glued our faces to the windows.

We were approaching parallel to a four lane highway, low and fast. Various businesses and buildings lined the road, all in various states of abandonment and disrepair. Some showed evidence of looting, some of having been burned in fire or torn by gunfire. Several cars stood empty, doors open to the elements.

But the landscape was as conspicuous for what it lacked as for what it contained. No dead or undead bodies. None. Anywhere. The streets were vacant and quiet. The rain whipped down on a desolate landscape.

When we banked hard over the airfield, I started paying attention to what we
could
see. That seemed more important right now.

There were three of them, and they were all burning. The C-5 is one of the largest airplanes on the planet, and two of them sat piled together at the end of the tarmac as if thrown there by a giant’s ill-tempered hand. The third stood alone, off the runway in the grass, mostly intact but one wing hanging useless next to the hull. The rear door of the third airplane was open, and tire tracks led from the open doors, ending in a crashed Humvee hundreds of yards away. Several bodies were strewn around the planes, all appearing simply as shadowy, smeared forms on the cement of the runway.

The helicopter banked hard, turning in to the circle of the airfield as the SEALs cursed silently to themselves. I looked to Kate, and she was silent and staring, likely contemplating what had made these airplanes collide. I was thinking the same thing.

I also wondered where all the troops and crew had gone.

The aircraft was banking to the left, and I snuck a peek outside the helo on the right side. Although we were angled hard, I could still barely catch the sight of a large fenced in area roughly a mile from the edge of the runway. Billboards to the side of the fences and looming over the highway announced the presence of the Kent County Fair.

The advertised dates of the fair were weeks ago, but obviously the organizers had yet to have the time to adjust the advertising to current circumstances. Saddened by the thought of such events being permanently discontinued considering the global tragedy, I turned away from the window and looked at the airfield again as we made a complete circle.

Isolated landing lights gave the area a surreal glow in the blustering wind and scattered rain. The doors to the flight control center and tower were battered on their hinges, stark evidence of the violence that had occurred here. The only question was, when had it happened?

Peters indicated that they had sporadic coms traffic several hours ago, but if that were the case, where were the corpses? Where was the enemy?

The helicopter was evening out, and the altitude dropping. The SEALs in the cabin were hefting their rifles, and leaning forward, ready to bolt for the open door.

Kate keyed the intercom mic and whispered softly, “I don’t like this.”

I nodded, following our descent through the windows, watching the ground get closer.

The pilot came on one final time, “Open the door, we’re at the LZ!”

Kate’s hand tightened on my own as the sailors sprang into action simultaneously with the rush of night air into the cabin as the door opened. They leapt from the aircraft in pairs, tightly controlled movements taking in the surrounding area adeptly and professionally as they fanned out to establish a perimeter.

Peters was the last one to leave, speaking loudly on his radio as he jumped down. Kate and I stood, walking slowly to the open door. It was dark now, and the eerie glow of the isolated spot lights interspersed on the tarmac, combined with the moving glare from the sailors’ gun-mounted flashlights, lent the scene a creepy feeling I didn’t much like.

My mind flashed back to one of my first movies: “Creatures From Somewhere!” Every damn time someone went out into the dark, they got eaten. While oddly prescient, I still didn’t appreciate the possible similarities.

The choppers blades had slowed to a loud but bearable thump, and Kate and I both threw the headsets to the seats as Peters’ head reappeared in the doorway.

“All clear here, we’re going inside. You can stay or come with, your call.”

Before we had a chance to answer, he was gone.

I turned to Kate, certain I knew the answer already.

“You wanna head inside? I don’t know about you, but this place gives me the creeps. But better in than out, right?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I hear that. I can’t shake the idea that we’re missing something here. I know it’s not unusual for places to be deserted nowadays, but ... this just seems off. Seems like there should be a few of those nasty bastards around, right?”

She stepped down off the bird and turned around as I leapt down next to her. My clothes were still wet and I shivered slight as the wind kicked up from the slowing spinning rotor blades blasted against me.

The second chopper had landed a hundred yards away, and I saw the team disperse to the East, heading toward the fairgrounds. Several men made a beeline for the fencing on that border of the airfield. The chain link had large breaks in it where the fencing had been pushed to the ground, the poles bent at ground level as if crushed under a large weight—maybe a vehicle of some sort. The earth near the fencing was torn and muddy, churned into a froth.

“I know the feeling,” I said, turning back toward her as we moved in unison to follow the jogging men into the main building. The wind tore at the ground, but the rain had paused momentarily. I couldn’t shake the same intuition.

It felt too easy that there weren’t any of those flesh eating ghouls wandering around. It’s a messed up world when you don’t feel right about not bumping into a zombie or two around every corner, but you play the hand you’re dealt.

In the distance, a vehicle burned, yellow flames licking into the night air, fanned by the strong winds. One of the few operable emergency lights flickered slightly before dying near the crashed cargo planes. The steady thump of the two choppers’ blades still beat the night air behind us but faded slowly as we approached the building.

From inside, we could hear shouts of “clear” echoing outside and through the open radios of two sailors standing guard at the door. We waited outside as we let them do their work of clearing the individual rooms.

The administrative building resembled a small airport, with a receiving lounge and some rows of chairs lined up facing the air strip. Offices lined the broken windows looking out on the tarmac, and lights from the sailors’ guns randomly shot into the darkness outside. Blood was randomly smeared near the wall in several intervals, and the doorway showed the marks of severe resistance and violence.

I shivered again in the cold air, troubled by the quiet and the calm.

“This really doesn’t feel kosher,” I said out loud, speaking to Kate.

“I know. There’s something we’re missing.”

She was looking into the darkness, as if willing her eyes to acquire the necessary night vision.

“LT says the building’s clear,” came a voice from one of the two guardians of the doorway. He nodded his head behind us and we virtually sprinted through the door, both of us eager for cover. The hallway into the receiving lounge was short, but it was clear of people, so I stopped Kate and held her arm as I leaned in and whispered, finally having the time and ability to give her the information.

My voice was low and urgent.

“He destroyed it. I don’t know how and I barely understand why, but the vaccine is gone.”

She nodded quietly, “I know, I could see it in your eyes when you got on board the helicopter.”

I looked around, then back to her. “Isn’t there a way ... I mean, in the movies, they could always do something with blood and immunity and copying people’s blood. Could we ...” I trailed off, instead miming someone taking my blood with a needle.

But her eyes were serious and contemplative, considering the problem. She nodded, a brief smile crossing her face.

“I’ve been thinking about it. We might be able to synthesize something from our blood. There are three of us with this super serum flowing through our veins. If we found a pathologist or a lab or ... shit, I don’t even know how exactly it’s done, but I know it’s possible.”

I nodded once, rubbing my eyes with fatigue. “If it’s that complicated, it seems unlikely that we’ll find someone alive that knows how to do it, all things considered. Probably a long shot, but ... I suppose we have to try.”

I regretted it before it was all the way out of my mouth. It was my fault we were in the situation we were—I was the one who insisted on getting to Hartliss and my fault that we couldn’t stop the Captain before he experimented with the serum. She had a daughter on the other side of the country, and she was trying to retain a shred of hope. I had no right to cast doubt on the narrow pathway we had to redemption and salvation.

Her eyes were sudden large and angry. She slapped my hand away from her arm, backing away angrily.

“Stranger things have happened lately, asshole. In case you hadn’t noticed. It’s not impossible to believe that someone from the CDC or Walter Reed or USAMRIID survived this damn party with the skills needed to separate this chemical from our blood and is in one of the safe zones, like the Pentagon. We just need to find someone. What’s the alternative? Find a shack in the middle of nowhere and hope for the best? Hope that a fucking herd of those things don’t happen upon us and plow us under?”

I stuttered, trying to apologize for my insensitivity, but she wasn’t having it.

She gave me an angry sidelong look, sarcasm tinging her voice.

“Or were you going to give up now and resign yourself to repopulating the species on top of a mountain somewhere? ‘Cause I got news for you, pal. You ain’t repopulating shit with that attitude. Check yourself and get straight. We’re still trying to find a cure for this, and you are either on board, or you can go to hell.”

She didn’t wait for me to answer before she walked off to find Peters.

I closed my eyes and pressed my palm to my head, slowing massaging my temple. It had been insensitive of me to suggest it, I knew that. But it was a real concern. We just had to press on. We were the only ones who could. Especially now.

BOOK: LZR-1143: Evolution
2.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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