“Jesus. He killed them both.” was all Dillon heard from behind him. He didn’t know if Hannah would understand this. Maybe someday she would. Dillon holstered his weapon and closed the door.
“Pass me a quarantine sign, please.”
Hannah numbly passed him a sheet of paper without as much as a word spoken. The rest of the inoculations went fairly smoothly after that, though Dillon did note that Doc didn’t say a word to anyone, including him, and Hannah kept her conversation to a minimum. Doc didn’t say a word for two hours, but finally spoke to Rick when they returned to the apartment.
“Rick, I don’t think I’m getting home tonight. It honestly isn’t worth the risk. Do you have a spare bedroom?”
“I do, and you’re free to stay a couple of nights.”
“Doc, you could stay here.” offered Hannah.
“No. I’ll be fine at Rick’s. Have we received any word from Greg over at my building?”
“Not yet. I tried earlier, but it looks like the landlines are out now.”
Dillon didn’t want to risk further alienating anyone, so he didn’t point out the emergency radios every family was required to have in their apartment. Instead, he went to the bedroom and clicked it on. Everyone used their last name as their call sign except the Marine Security Guards, who were called Post One, and Bryce, who was called PANTHER – probably because the LAST senior regional security officer had been a Panther’s fan from North Carolina. The important thing was that everyone knew how to use the radio and would talk on it if they needed help and the phones didn’t work.
“Talbot, Talbot, this is Shay.”
It took a few seconds to get a response.
“Shay this is Talbot. Where have you been?”
“Working. What’s your situation, Talbot?”
“We had a problem in one of the units. Mrs. Morton was screaming. I went out to check it out and went as far as their door. By then, the screaming had stopped. I think the inoculation turned Larry Morton. After that, a few families decided to leave. They waited until I was up on the fourth floor to sneak out. They drove off in their cars, and they left the gate open. Dillon….There are infected in the compound. They’ve broken into a few of the first floor apartments. Once they hear or see someone inside, they seem to do just about anything to get in. We heard breaking glass and screams. They haven’t managed to find out how to open the door to the stairwells or call an elevator, so I think we’re safe for now. There’s a lot of panic, though.”
-Damn it- Dillon thought to himself. He simply hadn’t considered that people would act so irrationally.
Dillon walked downstairs towards the gate of the 505, still on the radio.
“Can you get accountability of everyone?”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Well, you could knock on the doors….”
“Those….people….might break down the door or dive through the front window to get at me. There has to be a better way?”
“Well, let me think about it. We’re taking the same risk if we walk around and announce to everyone that they need to use their radios. The infected seem to react violently to stimuli.”
Dillon had analyzed the enemy before, dozens of times, in fact. He made light sport of mentioning who could and couldn’t shoot throughout the Middle East and Central Asia. The Somalis and Afghanis couldn’t shoot, but the Chechen's certainly could. Dillon used those skills now, depressing the talk button on the hand radio so he didn’t have to share the fact that he did his best thinking out loud.
“The infected seem to just sit around if they don’t have stimuli to react to. So far, we’ve seen them react to sound and motion. They aren’t dead, but they don’t feel pain. That’s probably an endorphin effect or due to dead nerves. They also don’t seem to remember much about their former lives. They’re primitive, and they don’t seem to understand how to open doors or use elevators. They’re stronger, probably because of adrenaline, and they seem to be at least as fast as a human. Most importantly, you don’t need to shoot them in the head to kill them, though that works like a charm. Shots to the torso seem to do the trick just fine, though you have to make sure you do enough damage to the important organs.”
“Shay, Shay, this is Talbot. You still there?”
“Sorry, Talbot, I was thinking it over. I think I have a plan. I’m going to secure your compound and then we can clear it, room to room, and have everyone that isn’t infected moved to the 505 tonight. I’ll call you and tell you what I need from you in about an hour.”
“What was that about, Dillon?” Hannah said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“So, you’re talking to me again. That’s a good sign.” was Dillon’s unintentionally bitter reply.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m not used to seeing you like that. I guess I always knew that you could be like that, but that’s not the guy I know. It was just a shock, that’s all. In retrospect, I guess that’s the Dillon that I know will always keep me and Mikey safe.”
“I’m sorry I snapped. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
“I’m the one that needs to apologize. So, what’s the plan?”
“I need two borrow both of Mikey’s remote control cars and his drone.”
“I think I see where you are going with this.”
Dillon spent a few minutes showing Hannah how to use an MP-5. It was fairly simple for her, as she had fired plenty of weapons before. Finally, he left her with his little USP Compact. She had more time on pistols than with any other firearm, a byproduct of being a nurse in the Army and not in a unit that spent time in the field. After that, he met with Rick and went over the details of his plan. Mikey was more than happy to show everyone how to use the drone, happily flying it around the room a few times. Dillon was always amazed at how easy the little toy was to move around, and thought that the camera that displayed to the controller would come in handy. Finally, Dillon grabbed Doc to be his driver and headed out for the other apartment complex. He made sure that Doc kept it slow to stay quiet and roll with lights off, counting on the darkness to keep the infected away. There were no checkpoints on the way, though they passed one house on fire and heard gunshots in the distance almost constantly.
Arriving at the outside of the 611 compound, they could all see that the rolling gate was open. Dillon had Doc roll to block the entrance to the compound with his vehicle. From there, they would have a decent view of the parking lot. The interior lights were still on, apparently working on backup generator power, though it would only last a day or so. Dillon quickly counted four infected in the parking lot, but was glad to see that they hadn’t noticed the vehicle yet. He quietly opened the door long enough to set the two model cars down. The first, a Ferrari, was pointed in the direction of the parking lot. The second, a police cruiser, was pointed towards the street. Then, he gently placed the drone on the roof.
“Everyone know what they are going to do?” Dillon asked.
“Yes.” answered Doc.
“Uh huh.” replied Rick.
Dillon pressed the talk button on the radio. “Talbot, Talbot, this is Dillon. We’re here. We’re going to lure the infected over to a far corner and keep them busy. I’m on my way up, okay?”
“Okay.”
The Ferrari started rolling through the parking lot, occasionally making revving sounds and blinking its headlights. Soon, at least seven infected – including the four that Dillon had spotted, were running after it. According to plan, Rick settled it under a mid-sized sedan and kept the lights flashing. They waited for a minute, and two more infected were attracted by the flashing lights. Then, Dillon quietly exited the vehicle and moved to the closest stairwell. He had a plastic two liter bottle taped to the muzzle of his MP-5. Inside was a small piece of PVC pipe with multiple holes dremel cut into it. The rest of the bottle was full of wet sponges. It was definitely jury-rigged, but Dillon was pretty sure that it would muffle the first few shots if he needed to take them. Hopefully the home made silencer would muffle them enough to make a difference.
Dillon looked around briefly before opening the stairwell door. It was empty, quiet, and not particularly well lit. He moved up, clearing as he went and wishing that he had at least one other guy with him. He laughed softly to himself, realizing that he wasn’t fighting armed men now, and might not need the extra guy. Finally, he reached the third floor, and he quietly opened the door and said, “Blue, Blue.” to let Talbot know that it was him and not someone that needed to be fired upon.
Talbot looked relieved to see him.
“I watched from up here. It looks like the plan is working. What now?”
Dillon let his MP-5 dangle on its sling for a moment, still controlling it with his right hand as he unslung another weapon, identical in all respects, including the homemade silencer.
“The plan is to have you take this and we’re going to knock on each window, one unit at a time, and see who is infected and who isn’t. If they are infected, we put them down. No more games. If they aren’t infected, they pack a small bag and wait at the stairwells while we clear the ones in the parking lot. There are seven down there. Then, we put everyone in as few vehicles as possible, pull the fuses for the lights, and do a slow convoy over to the 505 compound. Once we’re over there, you help me clear the 505, unit by unit. Then we assign everyone rooms as best as we can and wait until Sunday night.”
“Good plan, Dillon. You should have been an officer. You would have made a great captain.”
“Screw that, Talbot, I get pay equal to a colonel working for the State Department.”
“Right. I forgot about that. First thing first. My apartment is clear and there are five other units that have been chatting with me on the radios. I guess some people remembered how to use them.”
“Good. Let’s start on the fourth floor and work our way down, then. Rick told me three units are empty, two because the occupants are out of country. That means we have thirty one units to clear. What could possibly happen…”
“Don’t jinx us, fucker.” Talbot said before checking the condition of his weapon and nodding. After that, they moved up the stairs to begin the grueling process of room clearing.
Dillon had always had a special fondness for Close Quarter Battle. Every room was different, as was every situation. You had to be constantly thinking a step ahead. In this case, he needed to have Talbot covering the front window of each unit as he knocked on the door. He knocked and nothing happened. He waited, then knocked again, then waited some more. Finally, he took the risk of knocking a little louder, and a woman came to the door. Dillon had seen her around but didn’t know her by name. She was thirty something and a bit pear shaped. She had glasses and was wearing a Georgetown sweatshirt and yoga pants.
“Miss, are you the only person living here?”
“No. My husband wasn’t feeling well so he went to bed early. I should have, too. The lights are out.”
“The generator only provides power to the exterior lights. Miss, what’s your name?”
“Ruby Gomez.”
“Ruby, what kind of car do you own?”
“It’s a Ford Explorer. Why?”
“Ruby, I need to come inside with you. We’re going to help you get your purse and keys and then you’re going to quietly walk down to Unit 307. That’s where the Talbot’s live. You wait in there and we will be down as soon as we can.”
“What about George? We need to check on George.”
“Shh…..Ruby, I need to check on your husband. I don’t think you want to be in there, okay? I promise we’ll do everything for him that we can, okay?”
“Um…okay…” Ruby was crying, but at least she was doing so quietly.
Talbot and Dillon moved into the two bedroom apartment and quickly scanned the open living room and dining room area. Dillon could see some of the kitchen through the small kitchen island, but ducked in briefly to clear it anyway. Then, he watched as Talbot took up a position facing the hallway to the laundry room bathroom, and two bedrooms. Dillon kept his eye on the front door and window while Ruby grabbed her purse and found the house keys.
“I…I…have them.”
“You’re doing great, Ruby. I’m going to make sure it’s safe outside. Then, I want you to immediately go the nearest stairwell, just like in a fire drill. Remember, go to unit 307, okay?”
“Okay…”
Dillon opened the front door, cleared the immediate area, then quickly ushered her out. He watched her until the stairwell door closed behind her, then closed the door and took three long breaths. He was about to make her a widow. He signaled for Talbot to take the first room, knowing that it would mean that Dillon would be the first man to enter the master bedroom at the end of the hall. That was well and good, as he didn’t want to place the burden on Talbot. Both of them clicked on the flashlights mounted on the MP-5s, and moved with surprising fluidity for two men who had never worked together. Finally, Talbot reached for the door handle to the master bedroom, and Dillon squeezed his bicep to let him know he was ready to move.
The door opened and Dillon’s light moved with his muzzle, finding the bed. Ruby’s husband was lying in a mess of tangled covers, and he sat up rapidly when the light hit him. He was definitely infected. Dillon aimed down the sights and fired. Apparently, Ruby’s husband was still rising up, and the round missed the “magic triangle” formed by the eyes and nose, entering the upper lip of the man with a breaking of teeth. The target was dead in an instant, the round taking a sizable chunk of the upper spine with it and violently throwing it against the headboard and bedroom wall.