Outbreak boston, p.5
Outbreak: Boston, page 5
The two of them scrabbled to their feet, the man’s eyes crazed and bulging in their sockets as he started to come after her again. Amy readjusted her aim and squeezed off a second shot, blowing the man's brains all over the entry way of the command trailer. Amy stood there, ears ringing, blood pounding in her temples as she watched the sergeant's foot kick and twitch uselessly against the doorjamb.
“What the hell was that?” yelled Eamon, his eyes wide as he took in the whole scene. He went quickly to the young woman's side as she stood there looking pale and shaken. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“H-He attacked me.” Amy said quietly. She slowly lowered her M4 and looked around cautiously as she flicked the weapon’s safety back on. Her hands trembled and her legs felt a little funny. “I went into the trailer and he attacked me.”
“Are you hurt?” asked the EMT. “I wonder why he did that, anyway.”
“I'm fine.” Frays said quickly. She was having trouble catching her breath. Amy felt him looking at her. “I’m fine, alright! Quit your gawking and go see if they've got the wounded loaded up yet!”
Amy picked her way carefully around the corpse in the entryway and sank into the chair the lieutenant had occupied. There were banks of computer terminals and radio equipment at her fingertips and all of it seemed to be screaming at her at once. Amy picked up the handset of a radio that looked the most similar to the radios she was familiar with, took a deep breath to calm herself and keyed the hand mike.
“Break. Break. Break.” Frays said quickly as she leafed through a pile of papers on the desk in front of her. “This is Bravo Three Four. I am at um...break...Supply Depot Blue One Zero. I have a lot of casualties and I need to know where to send them, over.”
“Who the hell is this?” a voice demanded. “Where is Lieutenant Guzman?”
Amy rolled her eyes and keyed her mike. “My name is Senior Airman Amy Frays, 35th Wing, 35th Mission Support Groups, 35 Security Forces Squadron, Charlie Flight.” she said quickly and took a look around the trailer.
“Clear the net, Senior Airman!” demanded the same voice. “This is Chief of Police Gordon Banes!”
“Well Chief, tell you what” Amy nearly screamed into her mike “I'll turn myself in if you'll tell me where you are. You are at the Medivac point, right? Or better yet, send a squad car over to bring me in.”
“Break. Break. Break.” said a new voice. “This is Joker Six Actual. Airman, stand down. Look at the screen farthest to your right. I'm sending you the coordinates to the Medivac point. Put it into your PLGR and get going.”
Amy wished the 35th had the money for individual GPS receivers. The unit's brand new M4 carbines and a dozen M240 general purpose machine guns had eaten up the bulk of the unit’s equipment budget for the year. She pulled out her map, unfolded it and quickly plotted the coordinates out with a grease pencil.
“Roger that, Joker Six Actual.” she said when she had finished. “Be advised that an Army National Guard PFC will be the highest ranking person at this supply point once I leave. Requesting reinforcements, sir.”
“Roger wilco, Blue One Zero.” squawked the radio. “Get those casualties loaded and bring them up to the evac point. Reinforcements are on the way.”
Amy paused, calculating the distance between where she was and the new dot on her map. “We're bringing up the wounded time: now, sir.” she said quickly “If the streets are clear we'll be there in fifteen to twenty mike. Can I get an ETA on reinforcements, sir?”
The radio was silent long enough for Frays to become concerned that something had happened to it. “We're stretched pretty thin, Blue One Zero. Break.” the device squealed. An ear piercing shriek came from the speakers. Amy cringed in her chair and covered her ears. “Should be there in an hour or so.”
Amy shook her head and hurried outside. After relaying command's orders to the new commander of the supply point she walked quickly to the Five Ton. “We ready to go?” she asked Eamon as he helped the Army guys secure the last of the stretchers in the bed of the truck.
“Yep.” he said as he hopped down. “Find out where we're going?”
“Yeah. Do you live around here, Eamon?” Frays asked as Lacey joined them at the back of the truck. When the EMT gave her a nod she smiled. “Good. I'll drive. You can ride up front with me. Lacey, could you ride in back with the casualties and keep an eye on them for us?”
After they got Lacey into the bed of the truck and situated, Amy showed Eamon the map and listened to his suggestions as to the quickest route. Once they had it settled, the two of them climbed in the cab and she fired up the engine. “One quick thing before we move.” Frays said before putting the truck in gear. “While we're going I need you to keep an eye out. There might be bad guys who'll want to steal the truck or what have you.
“If you see anybody suspicious, let me know. If you see anybody pointing a weapon at us, let me know. If somebody starts shooting at us, return fire out of your window. We're not getting out of the truck unless we have to. If we come to a road block or an obstruction, I'm going straight through it as fast as I can, alright?”
They pulled away from the supply point and set off down the road as quickly as possible. Amy looked across the cab at the EMT. “I just realized something.” she said quietly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“What's that?” Eamon asked. He was trying to look for anything that might qualify as 'suspicious' outside his window.
“You're a doctor, aren't you?” she asked, turning her attention back to the road. This part of the city seemed relatively clear so far, but there were still some cars and trucks on all sides of their vehicle. The little hairs stood up on the back of her neck.
“Yep.” Eamon said with a small grin. His response drew peals of laughter from the young airman. Amy's laughter verged on the hysteric as it continued. The man looked at her like she had cracked. “I'm sorry!” she said once she could catch her breath. “I'm sorry! It's just that I’m close to graduating from MIT. My mom was all excited when I got accepted because she thought I'd meet a doctor.” Frays started to crack up again. “I don't think this is how she wanted me to meet a doctor!” Laughter sputtered out of Eamon until it erupted into a belly laugh.
The ride to the evac point was relatively uneventful. When they got there some policemen quickly checked that they were supposed to be there then directed them towards a medical treatment center. After a flurry of activity they got the wounded off their truck and in to see a harried and exhausted medical staff. The three of them stood near the Five Ton, all of them feeling like the medics looked.
“Okay.” Amy said after a brief pause. “Eamon, go see if the medics will let you refill your bag of tricks there.” she tapped the satchel slung over the man's shoulder. “Lacey, see if you can take the Five Ton over to the fuel point and get it topped off. I'm gonna see if I can find somebody in charge around here to see where they want us.” She fumbled in her pocket for her pack of cigarettes and, finding them a mush of paperboard and soggy tobacco, she left them there. “Let's meet back here in half an hour, alright?”
Amy wandered aimlessly through the camp, stopping every person in an Air Force uniform she could find. She asked all of them the same questions: “Do you know where the 35th SF is?” or “Seen anybody from the Three Five SF?”
After some time she received a small ray of hope: Major Grossman, her battalion flight commander, was supposedly in the Emergency Operations Center. The young airman who told her this was even helpful enough to give her directions to the EOC. Frays was so happy to hear this that she could have kissed him but instead thanked the young man and took off at a trot in the direction he pointed.
Amazingly, nobody even stopped her as she wandered around the interior of the EOC. The place was absolute bedlam: papers strewn all over makeshift desks, people running to and fro, men and women shouting at each other... “No wonder everything's so screwed up.” she muttered under her breath as she dodged an aide hustling past with a cardboard cup holder full of coffee.
She found Major Grossman, a grandfatherly man of perhaps fifty five, crouched over a handful of laptop computers. Information crawled across the screen, reflecting on the man's thick glasses. “Senior Airman Frays reporting, sir.” she said, giving the man a quick salute.
The older man barely acknowledged her, his attention fully focused on the screens in
front of him. “Be quick, Frays.” he said quietly, his hands tap dancing from computer to computer. “I’m busy. What’s your status?”
“I think Sergeant Emery is dead.” Amy said as she locked her trembling hands behind her back and stood at ease. “Airman Jacobson drowned when our Humvee got knocked into the river. The civilians in the quarantine zone overran Checkpoint Twelve.”
“I know, Frays.” he muttered. His hands continued their intricate dance, occasionally clicking a mouse here or there. “Who do you have with you?”
“I found a Marine Private, a Combat Engineer named Lacey and a civilian EMT named Teeling, sir.” Amy said quickly. The man was obviously busy and she did not want to disturb him any more than she already had. “They're getting a Five Ton we found gassed up and resupplying. Where do you need us, sir?”
The man paused in what he was doing. He removed his cap and rubbed the palm of his hand against his silver brush cut. “Things are pretty bad out there.” he said, sparing the young woman a rueful smile.
Amy's heart sank. “How bad is bad, sir?”
Major Grossman ignored the airman's question. “Go see Chief Walters from Alpha Flight.” he said slowly as he turned his attention back to the monitors. “He’ll give you an assignment.”
“Yes, sir.” Amy said quickly, coming to attention and snapping a salute.
The old man smiled and returned the gesture. “You're a good kid, Frays.” he said as he started tapping again at his computers. “I'll do something for you and that jarhead you got working for you once this all blows over.”
Amy left the Emergency Operations Center and swiped an ammo can filled with loaded M4 magazines from supply before hurrying back to the medics. Luckily, Lacey pulled the Five Ton up to the medic's tent as she walked up and Eamon was just coming out of the big canvas tent. “Lacey, get down here.” Amy said, waving for the man to join them on the ground.
The Marine threw open the door and hopped down. “What's up?” He looked nervous, excited and scared all at the same time. “We gonna see some action?”
Amy snorted. She had seen enough action for today but they still had a job to do. “Dunno.” she said as she unfolded her map and spread it on the ground to show the two men. “This circle is us.” Frays traced a circle with her index finger. “This dot is Checkpoint Eight and they need reinforcements. We've been tapped.” She gave the EMT a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, buddy but it looks like you've been drafted.” Frays pointed at the little red grease dot an inch and a half away from the circle. She pointed to Eamon. “I want you up front with me, same as before. Lacey, you're in the back. I'm gonna be haulin' so hold on tight. When we stop I want everybody locked and loaded, ready to kick butt, right?”
Amy tore through the streets, the big Detroit diesel engine belching gray smoke as she swerved to avoid a stalled car or hopped the curb and drove on the sidewalk. Frays struck a mailbox, sending a flurry of letters all over the place. Eamon whooped and pounded on the dashboard, clearly enjoying the ride as he shouted directions over the roar of the vehicle. The heavy ripping thump of a heavy machine gun played back beat to the popping noises of an M4 being fired on full auto as they got closer to the checkpoint.
The Five Ton lurched to a halt, its air brakes squealing like a stuck pig when Frays smashed the pedal to the floor of the cab. “Come on!” she cried as she opened her door and jumped to the ground. The three of them ran to a makeshift barricade formed by two stalled vehicles placed end to end across the bridge. The two soldiers manning the checkpoint parked their Humvee perpendicular to the barricade, one of them firing the vehicle's crew served weapon into a crowd of people and a small group of dogs while the other fired his M4.
Amy was horrified by the sight until she took a second look at the people attempting to cross the bridge. It was obvious that they were diseased and several of them sported what should have been fatal wounds though they were still on their feet. The dogs yelped, barking as they charged forward. Amy flicked the selector lever on her M4 to all the way around and snapped the weapon to her shoulder, triggering a burst.
The lead group of dogs collapsed, riddled with bullets as Amy advanced to the barricade. Their weapons joined the chorus, though their fire seemed to have little effect. The crowd moaned and groaned as they stumbled forward. Amy fired her weapon dry, pushed the M4's magazine release and reloaded with a fresh magazine from her LCS then slapped the weapon’s bolt catch with the palm of her hand. Still the infected kept coming, the closest of them now less than ten meters from the barricade.
“Fall back!” she ordered, hoping the others could hear her over the ringing in their ears. “Fall back!” The barricade's original defenders stayed in place, firing wildly into the infected. Frays ripped off a burst, hurried over to the Humvee and banged on the roof with her non-firing hand. “Fall back! Would you fall back already?!”
The infected still closed the distance in spite of the heavy .50 caliber rounds chewing the blacktop to bits all around them. Lacey ran to the edge of the river and leaped into the water, hugging his demo kit to his chest. “Oh, Jesus Christ! Lacey!” Amy screamed, spraying the crowd on the bridge before sprinting over to try and see what the Marine was doing. “Lacey! Stop!”
Lacey swam to the nearest pylon supporting the bridge and set about strapping a large brick of plastic explosive to the grimy cement pillar. Amy saw what the man was doing and ran to the Five Ton. “Cover me, Eamon!” she shouted as she leaped up onto the cab, frantically digging through the vehicle's contents. “There's gotta be a rope or something in here somewhere!”
Eamon's weapon boomed. “What?”
“He's gonna blow the bridge!” Amy shouted over her shoulder. “Crap!” Frays jumped down and sprinted to the back of the truck, madly climbed into the bed and started searching. By some miracle she found a large ball of discarded 550 cord forgotten under one of the vehicle's bench seats.
A handful of the infected were now a stone's throw from the barricade. Amy raised her weapon to fire, but the two soldiers were in the way. She shook her head angrily and ran to the water's edge, tying a loop in one end of the thin cord as she went. Lacey had finished with whatever he was doing, which was good because some of the infected took notice. They walked off the edge of the bridge and fell into the water, where they promptly seemed to sink to the bottom.
Frays threw the loop down to the Marine. “Put it around you under your arms!” she shouted while pantomiming the action. When he was secure in the loop Amy ran back to the truck and tied the other end around the front bumper of the Five Ton.
“Eamon!” Amy shouted to the EMT “Get in the truck and back it up when I say!” Thankfully, the man heard her and was scrambling into the driver's seat by the time she returned to the water's edge.
Amy wrapped the 550 cord around the Five Ton's bumper and tied it off as fast as she could and ran back to where the Marine was frantically trying to scramble up the cement retaining wall. Frays picked up the 550 cord in one hand to keep it from fraying while waving for Eamon to back up the Five Ton. The vehicle's diesel engine roared as the EMT slammed it's transmission into reverse and smashed the accelerator to the floor. Lacey flew over the edge of the retaining wall like a very surprised camo clad jack in the box. Amy screamed as the thin cord quickly cut through her gloves and into her hands, leaving an angry red mark on her palms.
Amy barely dodged the amazing flying Marine and chased him down, hissing and flapping her hands as she went. Eamon dragged the man along the ground before bringing the Five Ton to a stop. Amy stooped and helped Lacey loosen the thin rope around his chest. The guns of the two soldiers on the bridge started to fall silent.
Frays looked on in horror as the infected on the bridge closed on the barricade, started to climb over it. The soldier manning the .50 cal started swinging the red hot barrel of the machine gun back and forth, attempting to ward them off as two of them dragged the other soldier down.
“Oh, God!” Amy whispered, bile tickling the back of her throat. The two men screamed as Frays snapped her M4 up to her shoulder and ripped off a burst at the infected crawling over one another to get at the soldier sticking out of the Humvee's cupola. Eamon's weapon boomed behind her, taking the head clean off one of the infected attacking the soldier on the ground.
The infected lay strewn like discarded puppets across the bridge, on the barricade, across the hood and roof of the Humvee. It seemed eerily silent after the gunfire, the terror. Amy slowly lowered her rifle and flicked its safety back on. All at once she felt like someone had tried to pull the blacktop out from under her feet as the concussion of the blast smashed into her chest. A cloud of dust and water vapor flew in the air, the blacktop cracked as the bridge sank into the river.
Frays spared a glance at Lacey and said “That was amazing, but please don’t do anything that again. Your wife seems like a really nice lady and I’d hate to have to explain to her why I let her husband blow himself to tiny little bits.”
Eamon wandered over, his ears ringing like a church bell roundhouse kicked by Chuck Norris. “I guess this checkpoint's closed, huh?” he shouted, staring at the destruction before him. Amy snorted and walked over to the barricade. She hauled the soldier out of the Humvee and laid the man on the ground next to his companion.
