Voodoo Plague - 01 (24 page)

We were all
deafened after the hammering fire from the M240 and I watched in silence as
Blake’s chest disintegrated in a spray of blood and his body pitched over the
side into the water.  The other boat had someone who could shoot!  I slammed
the throttles to their stops, not worried about noise discipline any longer,
pointed at the wheel and scrambled forward to man the machine gun as Anderson
slipped into the seat I had just vacated. 

Standing behind
the machine gun I flexed my knees to absorb the motion of the boat and swung
the barrel onto target as I pulled the trigger.  The gun started hammering out
rounds and I used the tracers to walk my fire up and into their boat.  The
heavy, high velocity bullets destroyed everything they hit.  Fiberglass,
aluminum, flesh, bone; it didn’t matter.  They punched through everything and I
kept the fire up for a couple of seconds to make sure everyone in the boat was
down for the count.  One of the tracer rounds found the gas tank and the boat
exploded in a bright flash and ear shattering boom.  A few moments later
flaming debris started raining down onto the water around it.

Letting off the
trigger the barrel smoked heavily, the wind of our passage quickly cooling the
weapon back down.  I scanned around and didn’t see any other threats, then
looked for and spotted Blake’s corpse floating in our wake.  I motioned
Anderson to slow down and come about and moments later we slid up next to
Blake, engines idling.  Unclipping a boat hook from the side rail I snagged the
body, pulled it close and grabbed the NVGs off Blake’s head.  Tossing them into
the boat I let the body slip away and re-clipped the boat hook.  I don’t like
leaving a fallen comrade behind, but trying to recover Blake’s body and take it
with us would almost undoubtedly cause our mission to fail, and failure would
most likely mean death for all of us at this point.

Anderson had
pushed his NVGs up on his head and stared at me with eyes as big as saucers.  I
grabbed his shoulders and moved him to the passenger seat, jumping behind the
wheel.  We’d just alerted all the people in the camp as well as every infected
for miles around to our presence and we still had to steal a plane.  Jamming
the throttles forward I steered around the flaming wreckage of the other boat
and aimed for the concrete apron.

The speedboat
covered the water at a fast clip as we made a beeline for the seaplane hangar. 
As we approached I could see infected swarming down the shoreline, still a good
distance from the hangar, but closer than I was comfortable with.  I shouted to
Anderson to be heard above the roar of the engine and the wind whipping past
our faces.

“I’m going to
pull right up to that small dock.  You get the hangar open and find us a ride. 
I’ll hold off the infected.”

“How do I get in
if the hangar’s locked?”  He shouted back.

“You have a
pistol.  Shoot the lock off if you have to.  Watch your back, too.  There might
be infected inside.”

Anderson nodded
he understood and a moment later I cut the throttle as we roared up to the
dock.  The boat settled and slammed hard into the wood, snapping off the
stainless steel railing that ran along the top of the bow rail.  Anderson was
out in a flash, up on the dock and running for the hangar.  I checked the area
through the NVGs and didn’t see any infected yet, but I could hear the screams
from females coming our way.

Checking on his
progress I saw Anderson reach the hangar and tug on a man-door that was set
into the larger rolling doors.  It didn’t budge and he didn’t waste any time
stepping back, drawing his 9mm pistol and firing several rounds into the knob
and deadbolt.  Grabbing the door he yanked and it flew open.  He disappeared
inside and I had to turn my attention back to the business at hand as female
infected appeared around a building a couple of hundred yards down the shore. 
I also noted the noise of several boat motors, but they sounded to still be a
fair distance away.

Tilting the
machine gun on its pintle I fired four very short bursts and was rewarded with
all of the females in view falling to the ground, legs and bodies destroyed.  I
shifted attention to the lake and spotted three small boats heading my way,
each packed with men.  They were still too far away to effectively engage with
the machine gun, but it wouldn’t be long before I would need to deal with
them.  More infected started appearing and I waited briefly, giving them time
to cluster together as they tended to do, then opened fire again and took out
eight of them as the machine gun ran dry.

Tossing the
empty can overboard I opened the next one in line, grabbed the end of the ammo
belt and fed it into the gun.  While I had been distracted doing this another
dozen infected came into sight and I cut them down before swiveling the gun
towards the lake and sending some tracer fire towards the fast approaching
boats.

I’ve been shot
at in the dark by machine guns with tracers and I’m not ashamed to admit it is
downright terrifying.  If you’ve had any exposure to weapons at all you know
what a single bullet can do to you, and the thought of hundreds of them coming
your way in the span of a few seconds will make even the bravest soul dive for
cover.  So it was with the boats as each driver executed a fast turn to try and
put a big cushion between them and me.

Glancing over my
shoulder at the hangar I was frustrated to not see the big doors rolling open
yet.  I had to trust Anderson to do his job and I had to do mine.  Three more
bursts from the machine gun took down another ten infected, then another burst
out into the lake to keep the boats a respectful distance away.  I moved my
attention back to the shore and had to fire more bursts to cut down the next pack
of females who ran screaming towards me, then paused and stared as a solid mass
of infected appeared downrange and shambled towards me.  At the same time,
bullets started smacking into the dock in front of me, a few of them also
finding the speedboat, splintering the fiberglass hull where they struck. 
Swinging back to the lake I pulled the trigger and walked the stream of bullets
into the boat closest to me.  Men dove overboard as their boat started coming
apart then I found the gas tank and another explosion lit the night.

The bullets
coming my way stopped as the remaining boats moved further out into the lake
and I swung back to the infected and started laying down fire.  Infected fell
before the withering fire from the machine gun, then it fell silent, another
belt used up.  Cursing I fumbled the empty case out of the way, opened the last
remaining case and fed the final belt into the gun. 

“Move your ass,
Anderson!”  I screamed over my shoulder, hoping he would hear me inside the
large hangar.

Mowing down more
infected it was obvious I didn’t have enough ammunition to hold my position
much longer.  I was maintaining fire discipline and using very short bursts and
took a glance out at the lake to make sure the boats weren’t creeping back in
to shore.  They were keeping their distance but I knew as soon as I ran out of
ammo they would make a dash forward and light me up.  Just as I hit a green
tracer, telling me I was halfway through my last belt of ammo I heard a
metallic squeal as Anderson pushed open the hangar doors.

“Let’s go!” 
Anderson shouted, shoving one of the doors the last few feet open and running
back to get the second door open.

More infected
were showing up by the second.  Hundreds of them were now shambling my way, a
large group diverting towards Anderson having been attracted by his shout and
the squeal of the hangar doors opening.  Two packs of females sprinted out
ahead of the main group, one towards Anderson and the other towards me.  With
less than half a belt of ammo left I swung the machine gun and mowed down the
pack approaching Anderson, then switched to my rifle and started firing on the
pack running straight at me to conserve the last of the heavier ammo. 

In three round
burst mode I burned through a 30 round magazine, slapped in a fresh one and
used most of it to neutralize the females.  As I brought down the last one,
bullets started smacking into the dock a few feet from me.  I looked out at the
lake in time to see the muzzle flash from the shooter that was hoping for a lucky
shot.  I had to decide between the shooter in the boat and the herd of infected
that was almost to the edge of the concrete apron.  I didn’t have enough ammo
left for the machine gun to engage both.

My decision was
made for me when I heard first one then a second airplane engine sputter to
life.  Anderson had gotten a plane started and was taxiing out of the hangar,
propellers spinning up and engines roaring.  He’d found a fairly large twin
engine plane with big floats.  Underneath each float were two sets of wheels so
the plane could take off, land and taxi on a paved surface. 

As the plane
fully emerged from the hangar a bullet sparked off the concrete too close to it
for my comfort.  Slinging my rifle I swiveled the machine gun out to the lake
and pressed the trigger, using the tracer rounds to walk the stream of lead up
and into the boat.  Perhaps they thought they were out of range at close to 800
yards, but the M240 chewed up the boat and the men in it then ran dry.

One of the
lessons the Army hammers into you during training is that you never leave a
functioning weapon behind on the battlefield unless you’re willing to have your
enemy recover the weapon and use it against you.  Even though I was out of ammo
didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in their camp that had some or knew where to
get some.  Grabbing a thick cloth I’d brought for the purpose I wrapped it
around the sizzling hot barrel, pushed the release and twisted ninety degrees. 
The barrel came free from the machine gun and I flung it as far out into the
lake as I could.  Not the best way to dispose of it, but it was too hot to put
in my pack and I still had infected to fight before I could catch my flight.

Climbing onto
the dock I started firing at the front ranks of the herd as I moved towards the
concrete ramp where it met the water’s edge.  Every time I pulled the trigger
an infected fell down dead, but there were already more infected in sight than
I had bullets.  My goal was to drop the front ranks so those behind them
stumbled and tripped over their bodies, slowing the herd enough for us to
escape.

The plane’s
engines revved as Anderson headed for the water, but the infected were
approaching too quickly for me to stop shooting.  If they cut off the open ramp
to the water we were screwed.  The propellers, spinning at thousands of
revolutions per minute, would shatter upon impact with an infected.  The human
body has a lot of very hard bone in it, and unlike in the movies propellers
don’t dice up the bad guy to end the fight then keep on spinning like nothing
happened. 

I ran across the
ramp, directly towards the herd, waving Anderson down the ramp behind me. 
Firing as I ran the infected kept dropping, but there were too many of them and
they were within 20 yards of me as the plane passed behind.  Dropping two more
shambling males with the last rounds in my magazine I let the rifle drop on its
sling, turned and ran for the airplane as the front of the floats hit the
water.  I never saw the female that tackled me from behind as I reached the
plane.

We went down
hard, my hands reaching out and grabbing one of the struts that connected the
plane to the float.  She started to slide down my legs but was able to wrap her
arms around my ankles and hold on as the plane drug us out into the water.  The
pain from the wounds in my chest and left arm was like a searing hot bolt of
lightning, but I managed to hold on as Anderson leaned across the cockpit and
popped the door open for me.

The plane was
moving through the water at taxi speed, about eight knots, and my legs and the
female holding on were in the water putting more drag on my battered body than
I could withstand.  Taking a deep breath in preparation for going under I let
go of the strut.  Already fifty feet off shore we were in deeper water and both
of us went under, the female taking advantage of the change to start trying to
claw her way up my body.

Kicking, I felt
my heavy boots connect, but the water slowed my kicks and softened the blows to
the point they were ineffective against the raging woman.  Still kicking to try
and break free I fumbled on my chest for the Ka-Bar knife, hand finally
grasping the hilt and yanking the wicked blade out of its sheath.  The infected
had not only managed to hang on, but had worked her way up to my waist.  My
heavy clothing and equipment was all that had protected me from her repeated
attempts to bite.  Reaching down with my weakened left hand I grabbed a handful
of hair and held her head back as I stabbed the knife into her throat, twisting
and cutting until she went limp and slid off my body.

Kicking her away
I started to try to swim to the surface but realized that in the dark water I
was disoriented and didn’t know which way was up.  My lungs were on fire and
screaming for me to take a breath, but I calmed my body for a moment and
exhaled a small amount of air.  I was surprised when the bubbles tracked across
my chin then down my body as they headed for the surface.  I was upside down
and had almost started swimming deeper in my initial attempt to reach the
surface.

Switching
directions I kicked hard for the surface.  Breaking through I exhaled and
gulped in air, looking around frantically for the plane, spotting it another
300 feet off shore.  Anderson spotted me in his NVGs and revved the engines to
come pick me up.  I grabbed a handle on the float as the plane slid by me and
scrambled up onto the float then into the cabin and flopped across the row of
seats behind the pilot after slamming the door behind me.

“Go!”  I
shouted, but Anderson was already turning the plane towards open water and had
pushed the throttles to the firewall.