Peter Clines - Ex-Patriots

Two men ran for the wounded soldier. Stealth and Kennedy approached the driver more cautiously.

“Didn’t think you’d be joining us, specialist,” said Kennedy.

“Yeah, well, you know me, First Sergeant,” said Taylor. The battered soldier lowered Jefferson into the waiting arms of the medics and then spat out a mouthful of blood. “Always ending up on the wrong fucking team.”

* * *

Freedom had joined Pierce, Twenty-two, and the Real Men at the southern breach. There were only twenty-seven of them left. He wasn’t sure how many there had been to start with.

It was a clean break through the fence here. No chance of repairing it. Legion didn’t seem to be focusing much here, so at least the exes were providing easy targets. The soldiers had put down so many of them the ground was an uneven morass of bodies. Most of the walking dead stumbled and fell three or four times as they crossed the fence line. The air was filled with the sounds of gunfire and chattering teeth.

Three Humvees had joined them. The soldiers had fallen back around the vehicles. It was going to be tight, but it only had to get them back across the base.

He spun a new drum, his last one, onto Lady Liberty and blew the head off another ex. His radio crackled. “Unbreakable Six, this is Unbreakable Seven,” said Kennedy’s voice.

“Seven, this is Six.”

“Six, this is Seven. Wagons are circled at position one, sir. The Dragon and Sparky are falling back to our position as well.”

A new voice broke in on the channel. “You did not just call me ‘Sparky,’ did you?”

“Seven, this is Six,” said the captain. “Roger.”

“Seriously. I have a code name.”

Freedom pulled out his earbud and looked over his shoulder. He’d done his morning run past this length of fence thousands of times since he joined Project Krypton. He could see the backsides of two barracks. The post exchange was just visible between two of them, on the far side of the street someone had named Deadwood. Far past that, he could see the building with his office and the hospital where Sorensen had made him into the greatest soldier on Earth.

He took a final look at the view and shoved the earbud back in. “We’re falling back.” He bellowed it for Legion’s benefit. “Mount up and back to the main gate.”

* * *

The sun was low in the sky when everyone gathered at the main gate. They had forty-two vehicles. The final headcount was one-hundred-eight soldiers and support staff. Even all gathered together, it looked like a small amount.

“So,” said Kennedy, “how do we get past the truck and out the gate without letting him know what we’re doing?”

“We do not go through the gate,” said Stealth.

Freedom nodded. “Straight through the fences, just like he did.”

“Correct,” said the cloaked woman. “There is a point twenty-three yards south of the main gate which is almost free of exes. The Cerberus suit can tear through and we shall follow.”

St. George stood on the hood of a Humvee. He’d found Sorensen’s mangled body half an hour ago, and his fists were still clenched. Freedom glanced at him. “Do you think this will work?”

The hero glared at the fence. “Despite appearances, Legion isn’t what you’d really consider supervillain material. I’d say there’s a pretty solid chance. We’d better do this quick, though.” He nodded at the gate. “I think he’s getting suspicious.”

The dead gathered at the gate clacked their teeth less and less. They were moving their heads in sync. Their eyes moved over the circle of trucks and Humvees, then to the heroes gathered with Captain Freedom. A double-handful of heads tilted quizzically at the group.

“Time to move out,” said Freedom.

Zzzap flitted over to the battlesuit. It was smashing exes as they made their way around the capsized truck. Okay, kid, he said. No pressure, but it’s all up to you.

The battlesuit nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

Zzzap pointed to the key spot. Go that way, he said. Very fast. If something gets in your way, plow it into the ground.

“That’s it?”

That’s it. Once you’re through the fence, stomp a few exes and keep an eye out for Danielle. She’s in one of the trucks waiting for you.

The suit threw back its shoulders. Barry could’ve sworn it took a deep breath. “Okay,” it said. “Just say when.”

When, said the gleaming wraith.

The huge lenses looked at him for a moment and then the suit was running.

“Go,” shouted St. George. He leaped into the air next to Zzzap. The two of them darted over the triple fence.

“Seven to all units,” Kennedy shouted into her microphone, “move out. Repeat, move out.”

The titan kicked up a cloud of dust as it thundered across the packed-down dirt of the base. The first fence snapped apart like tissue paper. It grabbed the second one in its armored fingers and tore the chainlink apart like wet paper. The full weight of the battlesuit hit the third fence and it burst open with the twangs and chimes of breaking wire. The titan fell through and hit the ground.

The convoy rumbled to life. The circle uncoiled like a whip and one long line of Humvees and trucks headed for the opening in the gate.

The exes at the gate saw the trucks move and howled in unison. They ran for the breach in a stiff-legged lock step.

The Cerberus suit stood up and grabbed one of the tall fence poles. It tore the shaft free and swung it like a bat. The pole swept across a forty foot arc and devastated the first wave of exes. Then the titan swung it again and knocked down another swath of dead people.

The first vehicles were off the base and roaring into the desert. One truck peeled off and roared up next to the titan. St. George landed next to it. “Here,” shouted Danielle from the back.

The battlesuit hurled the pipe lengthwise at the horde and sent twenty-odd exes crashing to the ground. It took a few steps back to the truck and started to climb in the back. St. George grabbed it by the hips and heaved. The titan crashed into the truck’s bed and the vehicle shook. Danielle banged on the cab and the driver floored it.

“NO,” roared Legion.

More than half the trucks were through. Some of the exes furthest out from the base tried to intercept the convoy, but they were either run down or gunned down by Freedom and the rest of the Unbreakables. A few closed from the south but the guns on the Guardians and Humvees kept them at bay.

Zzzap dipped low and burned a path through the last of the gate exes. They scattered and their teeth chattered at him. The pale wraith soared into the twilight sky.

St. George landed on one of the last Humvees next to Stealth. One of her Glocks put a round between the eyes of a dead woman that came running at the vehicle. She spun the other one in her hand and whipped it across the jaw of a dead soldier crawling up the back of the vehicle.

Another ex threw itself against the side of their Humvee. It was a dead man wearing a ragged, bloodstained Army uniform. A large chunk of flesh had been torn from its throat. Its scalp was peeled away down to the jaw line on the left side of its face. St. George could just make out the name ADAMS on the front of its jacket.

“You can’t get away from me,” it growled. The words echoed. All the exes the Humvee roared past were speaking in time with it. “This is my world now, Dragon man. I’m everywhere. There’s no escape.”

St. George grabbed the dead man by the jacket and lifted him up so they were eye to eye. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

He let the ex drop and it fell beneath the Humvee’s wheels. The convoy rolled on, heading west toward California.