Dead Calm (29 page)

Cage halted the convoy and moved from his position in
the number three spot of the column to the lead. Directing his
driver to advance their Humvee slowly toward the barricade, he
ordered the rest of his men to face outward and hold their fire
unless they were sure that their target was dead and coming toward
them. At this point, he didn't want one of his people shooting a
civilian who was manning the barricade or coming to investigate
their presence.

Stopping the Humvee fifteen feet from the roadblock,
Cage unclipped the microphone for the radio and switched it over to
PA. Speaking slowly and clearly, he said, “This is Major Cage of
the United States Army. We are here to offer aid to anyone who is
injured and give food, water and shelter to anyone who needs
it.”

His words echoed back from the bluff on the right
side of the road and dissipated across the overgrown fields on his
left. No one showed themselves, so he repeated his message. Still
nothing. Looking around, Cage slowly stepped from his Humvee and
cautiously approached the roadblock. As he glanced over the top of
the barrels he saw the scattered bones and clothing of at least two
people, along with what looked like a shotgun and a hunting rifle.
Both weapons had been turned into rods of rust from sitting out in
the elements.

Adjusting his gaze further down the road, Cage could
make out the shapes of at least ten bodies and assumed they were
Z’s. They dotted the road in a path that led directly to where the
two dead men lay.

Recreating what had occurred, Cage determined that
two men had been sent to guard the roadblock. They had been
attacked from behind by a large group of the dead. It looked like
they held their own for a few minutes but were overcome in the end.
No one had come to bury them, so he had to assume that no one else
in the town's defense force had been willing or able to make it to
the roadblock. It appeared to have been abandoned since then.

Cage turned back to look at his men - he had to
remember to call them his people since a quarter of them were women
– and found himself looking down the barrels of two fifty caliber
heavy machine guns mounted on Humvees sitting abreast, which took
up both lanes of the road. Beyond them, he could see three of his
soldiers leaning on top of the cab of the lead truck with their M-4
assault rifles at the ready. At the rear, rifle barrels poked out
of each side of the truck to cover their flanks. Seeing this, Cage
was pleased that his people were so well trained Shouting to be
heard above the rumble of the idling engines, he called out, “First
squad of first platoon, clear this roadblock.”

The two Humvees at the front of the line pulled off
to the sides of the road far enough for the lead truck to move
between them so it could utilize the winch mounted on its front
bumper. Six men and two women dismounted and started to dismantle
the barricade with crowbars and axes while two more dragged the
wreckage out of the way with the winch.

In the town of Russellville, the soldiers had come
across many roadblocks erected in neighborhoods where the people
tried to isolate themselves from the virus and those infected with
it. The men and women of Cage's command had gotten lots of practice
as they cleared those, so they made short work of the one in front
of them.

When they finished and mounted back up, Cage kept the
lead position as they rolled slowly into the outskirts of town.
Passing a few houses, he could see no sign that the living
inhabited any of them. You didn't have to be a genius to figure out
which buildings contained people. All you had to do was look for a
big crowd of the living dead swarming around it.

A burned out motel appeared on the left and the
houses became more numerous. Cage stopped the column every hundred
feet and made a quick announcement over the PA as to who they were.
He didn't want to be mistaken for one of the roving bands of
looters that had started to pop up around the country. It would be
a shame if they shot a civilian by accident but it would be a
tragedy if one of his men were killed due to mistaken identity.

Coming to the top of steep hill, the road leveled out
and he could see they were coming close to the downtown area. He
knew from the maps he’d studied of the city that a large
residential section lay to his right. On his left were more houses
and a small college. Using the radio, he ordered second platoon to
split off on the road to the right and begin searching for
survivors. One truck and two of the Humvees passed him as they
headed on their rescue mission.

Cage checked the map instead of relying on his memory
and located where the combination City Hall and Police Station were
situated. Radioing to the Sergeant of first platoon, he said,
“We're gonna start with the local cop shop. It’s three blocks ahead
on the right. Squads one and two will go inside with me and three
and four will stay outside as security, over.”

“Roger, sir, over,” came the reply. They had gone
over the plan numerous times but he still liked to announce its
steps as they were about to take them.

“Roll out then, over and out,” Cage ordered.

The column had only travelled a hundred feet when
Cage saw the first few of what quickly became a swarm of dead
coming down the road. Leaning forward to try and get a better view
of the force approaching him, he quickly assessed the threat and
started calling out orders over the radio. “Z’s, Z’s, Z’s, about a
hundred or so. Humvees pull out to the left and right as far as you
can and get those fifty's going in enfilade. Head shots, head
shots. Pick your targets. Second platoon rejoin us. We're stopped
about two blocks shy of our primary target.”

As his Humvee swerved to the left to set up in
position for the .50 to fire at the advancing dead from an angle,
on his right Cage could see the City Hall had a large number of Z’s
clustered around it. To him, the dead looked like they were
undecided as to whether or not to join the mass already coming
toward his position. It was like they couldn't make up their minds
to go after the food that had suddenly appeared or wait for the
food they had trapped.

Cage assessed the situation and determined that the
crowd of dead had been clustered around the City Hall building but
were attracted by the sound of his voice coming over the
loudspeaker. They were on their way to investigate and see if the
noise was edible when he spotted them. From above, he heard the
deep, coughing boom as the .50 mounted on the roof of his Humvee
opened up with its first burst. Seeing the heavy rounds impacting
on the torsos of the nearest Z’s, he yelled at the gunner, “Head
shots, head shots. Adjust your fire.”

The .50 mounted on the other Humvee opened up as it
pulled to a stop on the far-right side of the two-lane road. Cage
could hear assault rifles popping as his people dismounted from the
truck and started to put out a withering fire on the dead.

Before jumping from the Humvee, Cage gave one last
order, yelling to be heard above the noise growing around him, he
screamed, “First squad, first squad. Cover our rear and watch the
flanks.”

Repeating himself to make sure he'd been heard, he
jumped down and joined the fray.

Veterans of numerous encounters with the dead, the
men and women in first squad quickly moved into position. They knew
from experience that it wasn't the Z you saw that got you; it was
the one that came out of nowhere. Covering the flanks and rear was
vital to any mission. Everyone in the platoon had seen action in
Little Rock, Fort Smith, or Hot Springs and had done at least one
foraging trip into Russellville, so they knew they were most
vulnerable when they were in tight quarters where the dead could
lunge out at them from hiding. In situations like this, with the
dead in the open, the soldiers had an overwhelming advantage.

It was, as one Private later called it, “Like
shooting deer in a petting zoo.”

A steady stream of bullets impacted the heads of the
dead, blowing them apart to spray brains, chunks of skull and black
puss all over the surface of the road. Some took body hits which
staggered them, but the volume of outgoing fire was such that they
were quickly put down. In seconds, the area in front of Cage was
littered with the bodies of the dead. The volume of fire slowed and
then stopped as targets were put down to never rise again.

And then the snipers took over.

Two of Cage's men had set up on the cab of the truck
and started putting down the dead gathered in front of the City
Hall building with scope equipped M-14's. In the silence, broken
only by their firing, Cage could hear the two snipers talking to
each other.

“I got the one in the overalls.” Bang. “Take that
farmer Brown.”

“Shit, you see that chick on the right? She looks
like my ex-wife.” Bang. “Bye-bye, biiatch.”

“See the two near the fire escape on the side of the
building? I got the one on the left; you take the one on the right.
In tandem, go.” Bangang, the two shots almost sounded as one.

“See those three lined up one in front of the other?
One shot, three kills.” Bang. “Shit, I only got two of them.”

Bang. “I got him for you. You suck.”

This was followed by laughter from both men.

Cage shook his head as the firing and the chatter
continued. Snipers are weird, he thought.

Hearing the whine of distant engines, he turned and
saw second squad coming toward him. As they drew near, he motioned
for them to stay in their vehicles as he walked over to the lead
Humvee to talk with their platoon leader. In the past, only
Lieutenants could command a platoon but with the decimation of the
officer corps since D-Day, Sergeants had taken their place.

Leaning down to the window of the Humvee to talk with
Jones, his former driver when they were engaged in the Little Rock
campaign and now the commander of second platoon, Cage said, “Had a
whole bunch of Z’s clustered around City Hall so that means there's
live ones inside. Since you're on S and R, I called you back. I
want you and one of your squads to go with me and one of mine to
check it out. We attracted a lot of attention so I want the balance
of the men to secure a perimeter and provide security.”

“No problem, sir,” Jones replied.

“I'm gonna try calling on the PA first. If no one
answers then we have to go in,” Cage told him.

Jones grimaced. Clearing a structure was where they
took ninety percent of their casualties. Most of the time on Search
and Rescue, once the soldiers killed the Z's clustered around a
house the people trapped inside came out on their own. It was the
rest of time when they didn't, and you had to go inside, that
really sucked.

Reluctantly, Jones said, “If we have to, we have to,
sir.”

Despite sounding hesitant to do his duty, Cage knew
Jones was solid when the shit hit the fan. Besides, who in their
right mind would walk willingly into what could be a building full
of the flesh eating dead?

Checking his watch, he said, “We go in five minutes.
Remind your guys not to get too close to any of the Z’s unless
they're sure they're dead. Line abreast as we advance, and give
everything laying on the road a head shot.”

The previous week, they had lost a man when he walked
past what he thought was a dead Z lying in the street, only to have
it lunge up and bite him in the calf. Before anyone could react,
the soldier shot the Z in the head and then turned his rifle on
himself.

Ten minutes later, the unit formed up around the City
Hall. Cage tried to hail any survivors over the PA but received no
reply. Looking at the sheets of plywood nailed up over the first
floor openings, he assumed that whoever had taken shelter in the
building had secured it from the outside and used the fire escape
on the side of the structure leading to the second floor to get
back inside before locking the fire door behind them.

After considering both means of entering the
building, the door at the top of the fire escape and the front
doors, Cage pointed to the front doors and ordered, “Bust them
out.”

The fire escape would be too narrow and would only
allow his people to get inside one at a time.

Two men ran forward and wrapped a steel cable around
the door handles of the entrance before attaching the other end to
a hook mounted on the front push bar of a Humvee. With both entry
squads and two .50 calibers covering the doors, the Humvee revved
its engine and started to back up. With a grinding screech,
plywood, aluminum and safety glass came loose and crashed to the
ground. The Humvee continued to back up as it dragged the wreckage
of the doors clear, leaving a gapping six-foot wide hole in the
side of the building.

Almost immediately, a dead thing wearing a blue
police uniform staggered through the cloud of dust kicked up by the
doors being wrenched from their frame. Three M-4's opened up it,
obliterating its head.

Except for a few scattered shots coming from the
soldiers on the perimeter as they engaged the occasional dead that
showed up, the area was silent. Cage waited two minutes to see if
anything else would emerge, and when nothing living or dead showed
itself, waved his people forward.

As he passed by Cage, Jones said, “After this I want
to be promoted to Second Lieutenant.”

“And be demoted from Sergeant?” Cage joked.

“Yeah, but the pay's better,” he shot back.

Jones and his men were equipped with miner’s lights
attached to their Kevlar helmets as well as lights attached to the
fore grips of their assault rifles. These were turned on as they
approached the space where the doors had been. Beams of light
crisscrossed each other as they looked for a target while
cautiously entering the building. Cage hefted his 12-gauge shotgun
and with his squad close behind him followed Jones and his
team.