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Rounds decimated the 5-ton’s grill and hood, sending bits of metal back into the infected hanging off the running boards. A couple dropped off, killed by the initial damage, then Webb raised the barrel up a few inches and plowed round after round into the windshield of the cab. Blood splattered on the back window and sprayed out through the open windows onto the infected still hanging off the running boards.
The 5-ton lost control as the driver slumped over the steering wheel, causing the truck to pivot and flip on its side. Webb adjusted his fire, aiming for the exposed gas tank now sticking up in the air. Baboom! The 5-ton exploded with an a-bomb inspired cloud, reducing any infected left alive to a smoldering piece of charcoal. Webb and Izzy turned their attention to the restseemed scared of the infected horde. A few stragglers remained between them and HQ. Izzy and Webb made a B-Line for the compound.
Shin and Neville were continuing to lead the infected, doing something close to a vast figure eight. They would lead a group of infected in a direction, only to circle around behind them where Neville would unload on them. It was effective, but only pulled small numbers away from the larger group.
The rest of the horde was several hundred yards away from the HQ. The make shift gate was now open and soldiers were frantically motioning for the two Humvees to drive through. Izzy was almost to the gate when Neville noticed them. He turned toward HQ and made a B-Line for it. A moment later, both Humvees had entered the open gate, and it was immediately slammed shut.
The vehicles came to a stop in the make-shift courtyard a couple hundred feet inside the gate. Webb dropped through the turret and stepped out of the vehicle. A couple soldiers ran up to and saluted as they saw that he was a captain. “Who is in charge here?” Webb asked.
“Major Harwell, Sir,” a young private who was scared shitless, answered.
“What about Colonel Madison?”
“I am afraid he is no longer with us, Sir.”
“No longer on this earth or no longer on this compound?” “No longer alive, Sir.”
“Shit. Ok, take me to Major Harwell, ASAP!”
“Right away, sir.”
Izzy had come around the front of the Humvee to have the private stop for a second and stare. “Private, this is Dr. Isabelle Costa, and she is a VIP, so let’s pick it up and get her to Major Harwell, shall we?”
“Y-y-yes, sir. Follow me.” The HQ building was once a showpiece for other units, posts and countries to visit and admire. It had a tall roof held up by four large columns similar to the White House. Large curving staircases were on the left and right, leading up to a central double door in the middle of the building. It had six large arborvitaes standing twenty feet tall with multiple round bushes surrounding them. They distributed flowers amongst all of them.
What was sitting before them was now a shell of that magnificent visage. Debris, dirt and supplies littered the once beautiful white marble stairs. Some bushes and arborvitaes were burned because of the Molotov cocktails thrown over the wall by the infected. They led the team up the stairs and past a make-shift communications center in the main lobby.
Soldiers were scrambling around in a fluster, trying to monitor and assess the situation after the latest infected effort to storm the compound. The Private continued to the back of the large lobby and then down a hall to the right. At the end of the hall was a large wooden door. The Private stopped at and motioned the team in. “He is in there, sir.”
The team entered the room and were met by an officer, “Sorry, the Major is busy and is not seeing anyone right now.” Captain Webb looked at the female captain across from him. She wore a neatly pressed uniform and shined boots with her brunette hair in a tight bun. He thought it was actually too tight and made her face look like a dog when they poke their head out of a car going down the highway. Webb looked at her name tape, which read “Simmons.”
“Captain Simmons, I am quite sure that your astuteness enables you to discern, based on our appearance, that we have been engaged in multiple conflicts, which were considerable and lengthy. Our uniforms are dirty and covered in blood, and I can imagine they have a fragrance that is less than desirable. We are battered, bruised, injured, tired and hungry. This team has waded through three states full of infected trying to kill us and survived a helicopter crash. We have run for lives more times than I care to count, not to mention that we lost some damn fine soldiers and friends during our journey. So, excuse me if I don’t give a flying fuck how busy he is or what the hell he is doing right now! He WILL see us now!
She protested, but Webb interrupted her, “With all things being equal in this fine United States Army, if you don’t get the hell out of my face, I have no problem fucking you up six ways to Sunday. Questions?”
“Whoa, whoa.” Major Harwell came running in. “Let’s take it easy. Captain Simmons, I will take it from here.”
“Yes, sir.” She never took her eyes off of Webb, but neither did he. Harwell led them into the War Room and the team sat down.
“Wow, a little intense out there, huh?” Harwell tried to ease the obvious tension in the room.
“Just a little, but we are not in the mood for her protocol bullshit.” Webb answered flatly.
Harwell looked nervously then turned to Izzy, “You must be Dr. Costa, I am Major Harwell, nice to meet you.” They shook his hands. “Let me give you a sit rep, then you can do the same. After that, we will determine where we go from there.”
Harwell continued, “Unfortunately, Colonel Madison is no longer with us. During one of the earlier waves trying to lay siege to HQ, a wounded soldier who he was trying to help, turned and…” He trailed off, “… ripped out his throat. We did not understand they turned that quickly and had to change protocol to deal with the wounded after that painful realization. Anyway, here is what we know based on what limited intel we have been able to gather.”
Harwell continued, “Communications are spotty to non-existent; satellite comms are sporadic and I have a feeling all satellite comms will be out soon. Terra comms work pretty well, but the issue is that we are losing people to communicate with. We were in contact with a few other divisions a couple days ago, but recently some stopped sending, and a couple others we heard the infected attack while they transmitted and then went black. Some infected transmitted while they were killing the soldiers left alive. It was horrible to listen to and I don’t think I’ll ever get those screams out of my head. I even hear that fucking clicking noise they make in my sleep.” He stopped for a moment, looking at the ground, shaking his head.
Harwell regained his composure a second later and cleared his throat, ”Based on that, we are virtually blind, and any new intel is scarce. What intel we gathered is this: As far as we can tell, they overran most of the other divisions and if there are pockets of command who are still alive, we have no way to communicate with them. Most of the world’s governments are dead or possibly in a coop site somewhere. If it is the latter, we still have no communications with any of them.”
Harwell looked toward Dr. Costa, “The CDC in Dearborn is toast, which you saw yourself, however, there is a CDC lab functioning over on the east coast in Maryland. That is the location we need to deliver Dr. Costa to, which we can
discuss a little later. The fucking scumbags who started this entire thing fled to Dearborn initially. We intercepted communications between the ISIS faction members with the virus, who call themselves Allah’s Vengeful Hand and their sister cell down in Philadelphia.
They are heading down to Philly now to regroup with the rest of their faction and they have about a five-hour jump on us. That location is approximately 600 miles from here and from your Team’s experience, it won’t be easy going, so that will give us some time. We could hack into their vehicle’s GPS nav, so we get random updates on their progress when we can receive satellite intel. As of our latest update, they are just 20 miles east of Cleveland. We need to either intercept them in route or be able to catch all of them together and eliminate the entire group. We would like to keep one or two of them alive for interrogation.”
“Understood, Sir. Any word from Priest?” Webb inquired.
