A Glimpse of Decay (Book 3): Lost in Twilight (6 page)

“And it’s getting closer,” Vincent noted.  As the three stood up, the sound of a loud booming filled the room.

“Shit, that’s gunfire!” Shondra yelled.  “Heavy weapons gunfire!”

“What?” Vincent asked.

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before, when I was in the Army.  It’s a heavy gun, probably from a vehicle.”

Excited to find out what was going on, Nick darted out of the office and made his way back towards the bays.  With Vincent and Shondra following, Vincent yelled, “Don’t go running out there, you’ll get your ass shot.”

“I’m just gonna peek and see what’s going on!” Nick yelled back.  As the three neared the closest bay door, the chatter of machine gun fire filled the garage and several bullets tore through the aluminum door.

“Shit!” Vincent screamed.  “Get behind something!”

Nick threw himself down to the oily concrete and continued to crawl towards the door.  As he reached the bay door, he drew himself up along the aluminum and took a quick glance through the grimy Plexiglas window.  “Holy shit!” he exclaimed.  He looked back at Vincent and Shondra, and with a big smile, he yelled, “It’s the Army!”

Out along the fence line, two tan colored armored personnel carriers were rolling up to the main gate as their turret machineguns swept away the crowd of runners.  Not being able to move quickly enough, the lumbering reanimated had already been dispatched before Nick had had a chance to look out of the window.  In a crazed fit of rage, the remaining runners turned and charged the Bradleys, climbing up on top of the armored vehicles.  In response, several soldiers emerged from the turrets, shooting down the runners at close range with rifles.

“I got three more up here!” screamed one soldier as he swung his legs from out of the turret and down onto the deck.  He sprayed the three charging attackers with a burst from his carbine, and as they tumbled off of the vehicle and flailed about on the ground, he placed a shot in each of their heads.

The soldier then leaned over the open turret hatch and called down into it.  “By the fence, there’s a few more.  Waste them!”

The turret traversed to face the remaining runners at the gate and the coaxial machine gun began to hose them down in a stream of bright red burning lead.  Within a matter of seconds, the bodies of the runners began to fall apart as the hot rounds simply shredded apart their flesh.

“Man, they’re fucking them up!” Nick yelled in a giddy voice.  Spittle was flying from the corners of his mouth as he was overtaken with uncontrollable excitement.  “Those bastards don’t stand a chance!  Finally, somebody is helping us!  Thank you, God!”

“Get your ass down!” Shondra screamed at Nick.  “They don’t know that we’re in here!”

In a flash of clarity, Nick looked over at Shondra and Vincent and realized that she was right.  The troopers had no way of knowing that live people were inside of the garage.  He turned to make his way back to his partners and as he was in the process of hunching down, a burst of gunfire came through the door.  Two bullets tore into Nick’s left thigh, shattering the bone and severing his leg at the knee.  A third bullet caught him just under his left rib cage and the fourth bullet tore into the base of his neck, sending a portion of his head skidding across the greasy floor of the garage.

“No!” Shondra screamed as she bolted towards Nick.  Vincent immediately pounced on her, knocking her down to the ground.

As the two cowered on the floor, Vincent grabbed Shondra by her arms and yelled, “He’s dead!  You can’t do anything for him.  We gotta get behind some cover…now!”

Sobbing, Shondra crawled back towards the offices with Vincent right behind her.  They made their way to the supervisor’s office and they curled up in the far corner.  As Shondra continued to cry, Vincent pulled her into his chest and held her tight.  He tucked her head under his chin and tried to keep from crying himself.

As the soldiers killed off the remaining runners, two more armored vehicles rumbled into the parking lot of the police station.  Within a matter of minutes, their guns had cleared out the remaining stragglers, allowing the vehicles’ passengers to exit from the rear troop hatches.  One soldier, a young second lieutenant with a baby face and green eyes, stood on the deck of one of the troop carriers and began to issue orders.

“Secure that police station and check for survivors,” he shouted in a hoarse voice.

“And if we have wounded in there?” asked one of the soldiers.

“If they’re bit, you know the drill,” the lieutenant answered back in a grim tone.  He jumped down from the vehicle and jogged over towards the other two troop carriers that were parked next to the gate of the maintenance facility.

“Check it out, Lieutenant,” said one of the troopers who was standing next to the gate.  He was pointing at the set of handcuffs that was acting as a lock.  “Somebody tried to secure this place.”

“Shit, somebody might be inside.”  The young leader looked past the gate and at the garage.  A frown spread across his face when he saw the bullet holes in the bay door.  “Fuck, I hope we didn’t hit anyone on the inside,” he mumbled to himself.  He turned and walked back towards the rear of the carrier and clambered up onto the deck.  “I hope you knuckleheads didn’t hit the fuel pumps,” he barked as he surveyed the lot.  “Makowski, get the bolt cutters and cut those things off.  We need to get in there and see what’s up.”

Makowski, who had been sitting inside of the carrier, emerged with the cutters in hand.  He trotted over to the fence and placed the jaws of the cutter around the blade of the cuff.  With one squeeze, the severed cuff clattered down to the pavement.  The Lieutenant reached up to a small two-way radio that was attached to his gear and he pushed the “talk” button.

“Cordell, I want you and Shropshire to provide security.  Reynolds and Logan will hold this gate while Davenport’s squad clears the yard.  Lundquist, I want your squad out here with the Bradleys at the gate.  I’m sure it won’t be long before we have another group of those things show up, especially with all the noise we just finished making, so we need to make sure we can keep them off of the vehicles if we need to bail out of here real quick.  Alright, let’s do this.”

Gathering his troops at the gate, Sergeant Davenport grabbed the frame and rolled it back enough to where his men could dart into the maintenance lot.  Through hand signals, he directed the troopers out across the yard and towards the row of dump trucks.  After making sure that the trucks were clear, the sergeant then directed the men towards the fuel pumps.

“Cooper, make sure the diesel is working,” the sergeant said as they walked up to the fuel islands.  Responding to the sergeant’s orders, Cooper darted over to the pump with the green handle and checked to see that the digital readout was working.

“Looks like it’s working Sarge,” Cooper said as he gave a thumbs-up to Davenport.

“Alright, get on the doors,” Davenport said to his men.  As the squad walked up to the shuttered bays, they realized that the doors had been closed from the inside and there was no way of opening them from the outside.

“Fuck, they’re shut from inside,” Cooper said to Davenport.  “Let’s check the backside and see if they’re open.”

“Yeah, good idea.  We don’t want to make any unnecessary noise by trying to tear down those damn doors.”

“Well Sarge, you know…sometimes black guys from South Dallas can come up with good ideas from time to time.”

“Like what kind of ideas…on how to rob someone and not get caught” Davenport said, chuckling.

“See, there you go again, always putting the black man down,” he replied to his sergeant’s joke.  The two often liked to play around with each other by making references to racial stereotypes.  “I know you used to burn crosses back home in old sweet Alabama, but that don’t mean that all white folk are a bunch of inbred crackers.”

“Come one man, I only used to do that on weekends,” Davenport said as he joked along.   “I always had a rule, ‘Don’t burn crosses on a weekday.’  And I never dated my sisters…just cousins.” 

“But I got nuthin but love for ya, white man,” Cooper said as he winked at his sergeant.

“And I got nuthin but love for ya, brotha,” Davenport replied.  “Now hurry up and get your ass around the backside of this building.

As the squad worked their way to the back side of the garage, Cooper kept his rifle raised and at the ready.  He darted into the first open door and scanned the bays with his barrel.  “Fuck,” he said as he walked towards the front doors.  “Check it out.”

Davenport and the others followed Cooper and saw what he was referring to.  Nick’s shattered body was sprawled out in front of them on the dirty floor.  “Damn it, his head got blown off,” the sergeant said.

“Yeah, and his leg too,” Cooper added.  “Poor dude.”

“Looks like he was a cop,” observed another soldier.  “Look at his gun belt.”

“It’s Lorenz,” Cooper said in aggravation.  “I told his ass to take it easy on the co-ax.  That motherfucker has been heavy on it all day.  He’s burning through all the seven six-two.”

“Well, I guess now we know who locked the gate,” Davenport said.  “Alright, let’s clear the rest of the building.  Fan out.”

Hiding in the office, Vincent and Shondra had been able to hear part of the conversation of the soldiers.  Looking over at her he said “Let me get their attention before they come in here and shoot us.”

“Be careful,” she pleaded.

“You just stay in the corner and keep low.”  He looked into her red eyes for a brief moment and then turned to make his way towards the service bays.  As he was about to enter into the hallway, he began to yell.  “Hey, don’t shoot!  Please, there are a couple of us back here…don’t shoot!”

“Shit Sarge, somebody’s back there,” Cooper said as he pivoted and brought up his rifle in the direction of the offices.

Davenport looked at his men and pointed to a young trooper.  He motioned for him to move to the left of the entrance to the offices.  He then looked at two other troops and said, “You give me a base right here.  Me and Cooper will move up.”

Cooper began to cautiously step towards the lobby door and Davenport positioned himself just behind him.  “Come on out,” Cooper ordered.  “Come out with your hands where we can see them.”

Hearing that, Vincent slowly moved down the hallway and he raised his hands.  “Don’t shoot, I’m a police officer!” he yelled.  He was tentative and uncertain, but he continued to make his way towards the voice out in the bay.

“Alright buddy, then just come on out,” Cooper said.  “Everything is going to be alright.  We’re here to help you.”

Vincent entered into the lobby from the hallway and saw the group of soldiers through the glass door.  He had his hands raised, but when he got to the door, he reached down to push it open.  He then raised his hands again and propped the door open on his hip.  “Don’t shoot.”

Seeing the fear in Vincent’s eyes, Davenport said, “It’s okay, you can put your hands down.”

Slowly, Vincent lowered his hands but made a conscious effort to keep them away from his gun.  He didn’t want to give a fidgety or nervous soldier a reason to “accidentally” shoot him.  He stepped into the bay and looked at the soldiers who were now surrounding him.  He glanced over at Nick’s body but couldn’t bear to look at him.  He closed his eyes and then turned his head, reopening them.  “I’m Officer Vincent Rossi with the San Antonio Police Department.  I have a partner in the back office.”

“A partner?” Davenport asked.  He was surprised that Vincent’s partner had chosen to stay back in the offices.  “Why isn’t your partner out here?  He isn’t injured…or bitten?”

“No,
she’s
not hurt,” Vincent said.  He could hear the suspicion in Davenport’s voice and he wanted to reassure him that there was nothing for them to fear.  “I just told her to stay back in case…well, in case…”  Vincent pointed to Nick’s body.

“He was with you?” asked Davenport.

“Yeah.  He heard y’all roll up and he went to see what was going on.  We told him to get away from the doors, but he was so damn excited to see you guys.  I mean, it’s been rough on us these last few days.  We almost got killed just trying to get into here.  Some of our friends weren’t as lucky and they got caught in their car…across the street.  They didn’t stand a chance.”

“Yeah, we saw a police car across the street when we first rolled up.”  Davenport frowned and shook his head.  “We saw some of the slow ones eating your friends, so we took them out.”

Vincent was taken aback at Davenport’s insensitivity towards the demise of his co-workers, but after a quick moment of retrospect, he realized they were living a nightmare where all sensibilities were muted.

“I’m Sergeant Gus Davenport…and I’m real sorry about your friend there.”  He motioned with his rifle to Nick.  “We had no idea that you guys were in here.”

“We tried to tell him to get down, but he didn’t want to—”

“Did you say that someone else is in the back?” Cooper interrupted.

“Uh, yeah.  Another police officer.  Y’all wanna go back there with me?  We cleared out everything in there already, so it’s secure.  The air conditioner was on and we were in there cooling down when you guys showed up.”

“Sure, we’ll send someone with you,” Davenport answered.  He reached up to his radio and keyed it.  “Lieutenant Morrow, we have the gas pumps and the garage secure.  We got a couple of civilians in here too.  Police officers.  There were three of them, but, uh, looks like one of them was looking out the door window when we rolled up and…well…he got shot by accident.”