“Marlee, Ashley, and maybe even Reid will need to stay behind until the Resort is secure, and I doubt they have enough ammo for an assault like that, if the number of Changed you saw was accurate. Maybe Julian has something up his sleeve.”
Mike thought about what Eric said and nodded his agreement. “Let’s go tell the others the news. We need to strap on our big boy pants and be ready for anything at this point.”
“Damn, this still feels like a real shitty dream to me, Mike.”
After catching up with the others and bringing everyone up to speed, there was a fair amount of trepidation within the group. The decision was an easy one, though; face a large scourge of Zs while attempting to access the bunker and ultimately the railway and beyond, or deal with tens of thousands of bloodthirsty Changed on a trek to D.C., if that was the ultimate goal. It was unknown how fast the
change
was progressing in other parts of the country, but it seemed to be picking up steam from the little each of them had witnessed so far. With everyone now on the same page, it was obvious Marlee was hopeful an answer to her situation might be found, and Mike was grateful for even a small ray of hope in a world otherwise devoid of anything even resembling good news. As a former soldier, he knew hope was the most important attribute required before putting oneself in harm’s way and keeping a positive attitude.
Mike, with Eric in tow, met up with Aggeles and Davis on their way to see Julian. Ever since Eric had killed the Z that almost got Davis the two men had formed a strong bond. The four men set off in silence. They found Julian set up behind a small table in a thick grouping of trees not far from the vehicles where he was in the process of laying out a map of the area and stills from the drone flight.
“First things first,” Julian said as they approached. “We need a head count of everyone here.”
Eric spoke up, “There are fourteen of us total, not counting the drone.” That quip brought a small chuckle from everyone.
“Of those fourteen, eleven of us are combat capable,” Davis added.
“Ammo?” Julian continued.
“We have twenty thousand rounds for the chain-guns, then it’s nothing but a hunk of useless metal. The good news is we have plenty of ammo for the assault rifles and handguns along with about one hundred or so frag grenades. I have twenty smoke bombs we can load on the drone if needed, and one motherfucker left.” Mike glanced at Aggeles at that statement, curious about what a
motherfucker
was, but no explanation was forthcoming.
Julian seemed satisfied with the ammo levels under the circumstances and, thinking aloud, said, “We will need to keep the MRAP at a distance so the non-combatants will have safe harbor. Right now the only place I consider safe around here is the MRAP. I’ll have Daniels and Garcia hang back with Shrader to keep an eye on your friends, Mike.”
Mike nodded his appreciation.
Continuing to lay out his plan, Julian went on, “We’ll go in in at night, of course.” He turned and looked directly at Mike. “Marlee said she hasn’t seen an increase or decrease in her night vision with her new eye color, so I don’t think night will give the Changed an advantage, but those eyes of theirs are the perfect target for a double tap in the dark.” There was no argument from the others on that logic. “I have a map of the bunker and everyone needs to have it memorized before we go; things may get crazy and you need to have the waypoints down or it will be your ass if we get separated.” No one doubted him for a second. “We’ll go in through the locked office we identified earlier during the drone flight. From there, we make our way to the main exhibit hall; it’s the main feature in the west wing and a straight shot from the insertion point. There is a stage area toward the rear of the exhibition hall and we will find the first set of doors leading into the bunker there. From there I have access codes to bypass the initial doors’ security, and if the blast doors are locked down, I’ll need you to secure the exhibit hall until I can access the blast door’s maintenance area. The government loves redundancy, so there is always a second way in if you know where to look.” He glanced around to ensure everyone was paying rapt attention to what would be a cake walk if hundreds of Zs weren’t standing between them and the safety of the bunker.
“What’s the backup plan?” Eric asked.
“Simple,” Julian said in all seriousness. “Run like hell, don’t get yourself killed, and make your way back to the MRAP.”
“Easy enough,” Mike chimed in. “We have too much riding on this so let’s fight the good fight.”
Mike’s comment garnered nods of respect from the hired guns standing around him. He had never met an operator that was not ready to unleash a firestorm of lead on a hostile.
Maybe we have a chance,
Mike thought, looking around at the men standing beside him and feeling better about their chances suddenly.
Julian was finished and there were no further questions. Rest was the order of the day because everyone knew it would be a long night. Nobody said it, but they all hoped it would not be their last night.
Mike woke with a start, surprised he’d been able to sleep at all actually. The night’s activities hung heavily on his mind and he knew what they were about to do was more dangerous than anything he had faced in Iraq. Still half-asleep, Mike looked around and sighed when he noticed there was no longer any light filtering in through the MRAP’s windows. He assumed night had quietly fallen while he slept. Glancing at his watch, his stomach lurched slightly when it told him midnight was long past. He always got pre-mission jitters and tonight was no different than he remembered from his Army days.
Marlee was lying next to him, seeped in a peace only deep sleep can bring. He gently untangled himself from her and looked around. Other than Eric, the others were all sound asleep. Mike hoped he would live to see them again, but was under no grand illusions their mission would be easy. He just hoped they didn’t lose anyone in the attempt.
Slipping quietly outside, the first thing Mike noticed was the liquid cool mountain air. It was pure, clean, and invigorated him more than he realized fresh air would. He was acclimated to the muggy, humid air in Florida. Mike couldn’t see much in the near pitch black, but his ears picked up where his eyes failed him. The rustling of the wind in the leaves and the sound of a lone owl somewhere off in the distance added to the tranquility of the night.
Eric was sitting on the ground just outside the MRAP, cleaning his rifle, and if Mike knew him, he had already cleaned his for him.
“Here ya go, Sarge,” Eric said, smiling at the memory of past days in the Army together.
Mike smiled at those memories as well. “The good old days look like they’ve returned. Problem is I almost wish we were back in the Middle East; at least there was an America to return to where we knew everything would be alright.”
“Maybe once this passes things will return to normal again.”
“Maybe,” Mike said wistfully, but neither of them actually believed that would be the case.
“Here’s your rifle, Mike. I’ve got it cleaned and ready for you to wreck some Z heads. Just remember to point up, no center mass shooting tonight.”
“I think we’ll be facing something unlike anything we’ve ever seen before, so the last thing I need is a jammed rifle,” Mike said, truly appreciating his longtime friend for all the selfless acts he performed without ever asking for anything in return. Eric was like that with everyone, it was just who he was.
“Julian said we need to move the MRAP forward, about a mile from the insertion point, run the drone down the line to see what we are up against, then make a beeline for the Greenbrier,” Eric explained, relaying further instructions Julian must have provided while Mike slept.
Eric stood up and tossed Mike his rifle as they started into the pitch black in search of the other lucky souls headed for the Greenbrier tonight.
No point in waking Marlee,
Mike thought,
she’ll only beg me to stay behind and I don’t need my heartstrings tugged right before what promises to be a grueling and bloody night of fighting.
*****
Mike, along with the rest of the Bunker Team, as he was calling them, were gathered around Aggeles, who was sending the drone into the night for a final look before starting the vehicles and heading out. First stop, a safe place for Marlee and the others to wait on them, then on to the Greenbrier itself. The infrared and night vision lenses on the drone were beaming back stunningly clear images even in the night’s unyielding blackness.
It had been decided to send the drone up for a quick scan of the proposed route prior to moving in with the MRAP. Mike’s primary concern was the racket created by the MRAP and its potential to attract the Changed to the area they intended on leaving the others behind while they made their way inside the Greenbrier and its famous Bunker.
Julian, to Mike’s relief, let them in on a small secret. Once in the bunker there were other options for getting the rest of the group inside. These ultra-secret exits existed for multiple reasons, the most notable as an escape route from the bunker. The only way to open the emergency exits was from the inside of the bunker itself.
The drone did its work quickly and efficiently. The backside of the Resort was relatively clear, reducing the tension everyone was feeling for the task ahead. They would be rolling out in ten minutes. Just enough time to pack up and get back in the vehicles.
Mike, with Eric in tow, walked back to talk to the rest of the group. They were standing anxiously outside the MRAP, watching as the two stoic-faced men came toward them. Mike was not sure if this would be the last few minutes he would spend with Marlee.
“We roll out in ten. The three of you will hang back with a couple of Julian’s men until we get inside the bunker,” Mike informed Marlee, Ashley, and Reid.
“What about the two of you?” Marlee asked? Mike knew it was a rhetorical question, as Marlee already knew they were headed to the Greenbrier. He was sure some part of her hoped she would hear the mission had been canceled and Mike would remain by her side. He understood her concern, but this time didn’t have the words she wished to hear.
Mike said, “We’re trained soldiers and will be going in with Julian’s team as planned; they need the manpower to get inside that bunker.”
Ashley just stared at them; ever since she had witnessed the events at the Port, she barely spoke and seemed to just follow Reid around wherever he went. Reid seemed to be doing much better since his mini-breakdown and was listening intently to everything Mike and Eric were saying. Marlee looked like she wanted to cry and was just staring at Mike, which was a bit disconcerting due to the mellow red glow deep in her eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would be okay or if she would end up like one of the other Zs eventually. Mike spent a lot of time trying not to think along those lines.
“Mike, what’s the plan?” Reid asked.
“Get into the bunker then see about—” was all Mike got out before Reid cut him off.
“No, I mean what’s the plan, why are we here, where are we going, why are we with these people, and what is their end game?”
Ashley, coming out of her funk for a minute, added to Reid’s line of questioning. “What he means, Mike, is we were at work yesterday and our lives were normal. Now we’re tagging along with people we don’t really know, we left Florida and the resources available to us, and now we’re sitting in the middle of the sticks of West Virginia trying to get into a building so we can do what exactly in Washington D.C.? Oh, I get the part about helping Marlee, but what exactly will that help consist of? You do remember this is the government we are dealing with here, and their track record on caring about people is suspect when it comes to the bigger picture.”
Mike rocked back a bit and thought hard.
What was the game plan? What will we really find at the end of the journey with Julian? Will we be better off setting out in search of a safe haven where we can return to some semblance of normalcy? I have a responsibility for these people. I need to keep their safety and security paramount as well as Marlee’s.
“We have two options; we can follow through with Julian and see where that path leads us. They have firepower and Julian seems to know what’s going on. He wants to take the rail system under the bunker to a facility in D.C. to see if they can figure out what Marlee’s prognosis is, and if her DNA can help others. I have to take him at face value because the other options are bleak. I wouldn’t expect anyone to follow me if you wish to strike out on our own and try to find a secure place to bunker down,” Mike said, then waited to see what his friends thought.
Reid exchanged glances with Ashley before answering. “Of course we’re with you, Mike, there’s no question where we stand, but we still need to come up with a plan if things go south somewhere between here and D.C.”
Mike and Eric both nodded. It was sound thinking as far as they were concerned.
“First things first then, let’s get into that bunker,” Mike said with determination in his voice.
*****
Mike was back in his familiar perch atop the MRAP turret along with Davis as they headed toward the drop-off point behind the Greenbrier. The MRAP’s raucous passing shattered the sleepy quiet of White Sulphur Springs along the way. The occasional Z that stumbled onto the roadway was quickly crunched under the bulk of the huge vehicle. Mike silently stared at the small shops and country homes dotting the picturesque small town landscape as they drove into the night, wondering if they would ever again open for business.
The closer they got to the insertion point the more Changed they encountered. It felt like hours later to Mike when Davis finally spotted the crossroad they were looking for and signaled the driver to turn in.
Mike realized whoever lived, or had lived, in the area they were passing through was definitely upper crust. The homes were McMansions and each was intricately landscaped and well-appointed. Many of the cars were still in driveways. Perhaps they had pulled them out of their three- and four-car garages before deciding to hoof it to the Resort, or maybe they never made it that far before encountering one of the Changed. Whatever the reason, the neighborhood appeared deserted. This was a blessing because the fewer Zs they ran into the less energy and ammo they would need to expend. The MRAP pulled into the driveway of one of the upscale homes and immediately shut down, returning silence to the immediate area once again. It was go time.
Those remaining behind got ready to board the MRAP, while the lucky ones heading off to the Greenbrier gathered at the front door of the home they were going to use as shelter. One of Julian’s men that was remaining behind, Daniels, Mike thought, taking a hard look at the man, climbed to the roof of the McMansion with a nasty-looking silenced long-barreled rifle. Mike hoped he was a good shot.
Haya and Shrader walked up to the ornate wood and glass double doors of the home and with one swift kick Shrader battered them open. Both men, rifles raised, quickly entered the house. Mike could hear then calling “clear” as they moved from room to room.
Mike noticed a small group of Zs making their way toward the house and decided to treat it as an opportunity. “Let’s get some practice before we head out for the real fight, Eric.”
Eric looked over at the new arrivals with a smirk and said, “One shot, one kill, and you get first shot.”
Mike was game. He brought up his newly silenced M4A1, silenced thanks to Aggeles and their imminent mission where noise would be their enemy, lined up the first Z in line, and squeezed off a single round. “Fuck,” he cursed as he missed his first attempt.
Snickering at Mike’s wayward rusty shot, Eric put his eye to the sight and let one rip. A fraction of a second later grey matter from the lead Z’s head blew straight out the back of its skull, spraying those trailing behind. They didn’t flinch when the ooze sprayed over them; instead, they continued moving toward the shooters with a single-minded determination. The Changed existed for only one reason now. To rip, tear, and feed on any living thing that crossed their path.
“See if you can hit the fat one in the back, Mike.”
Not letting himself take the bait Eric was dangling, Mike brought his rifle up again, took a deep breath, and fired his second shot. This round flew true and hit one of the smaller targets between those distinctive red markers buried deep within its pupils. The head snapped back from the velocity of the round passing through its skull and the Changed dropped almost in place to the ground. Mike felt queasy when he realized it looked to be a boy of about ten years of age.
Eric, not wanting to lose momentum or give Mike time to think about his kill, took the next shot almost immediately. A few minutes later Mike and Eric had dropped six of the Changed without another errant shot.
“Nicely done, gentleman,” Julian said with an air of approval. He was standing with Aggeles, Vogel, and Davis, who were all nodding appreciatively at Mike and Eric’s obvious proficiency with a rifle. “Now let’s get moving,”
Julian, his men accompanying him and with Mike and Eric tagging along behind, entered the house. It was time to get started.
Mike was impressed with the interior of the house. It was clear the house had been professionally decorated and the TV built into the wall on the far side of the family room would give most people a serious case of TV envy. Leather sofas, hand-crafted hardwood floors with intricate inlays, and expensive granite countertops with professional grade appliances were all on display as they walked through the house. Once out back, Davis closed the door behind them as they started quietly though an equally extravagant backyard and into the brush separating the McMansion neighborhood from the Greenbrier.
As they cleared the wooded area behind the house, they got their first eyes-on look at the Greenbrier Resort. Mike’s first impression: It was huge. He hoped the bulk of the Changed were still milling around out front as they had been when the drone buzzed the facility earlier. If the resort itself was packed with the Changed, he didn’t know how they could possibly be successful.
Julian silently moved out, using hand signals to spread the team out as they slowly started down toward the insertion point. So far so good; there was no sign of trouble and Mike didn’t see any sets of red eyes staring back at him, which was reassuring to him. The resort reminded Mike of the White House in many ways. Reinforcing the similarity to the White House was the bright white exterior paint; the upside of this was much better visibility than the night’s darkness would normally have allowed. Looking up, he saw row upon row of empty windows staring silently back down at them. Mike thought he saw motion from more than one darkened window, but maybe his mind was already starting to play tricks on him.