Stephen Knight - Left With The Dead

“Terminator, Summit. Order out, party in ten, over.”

It didn’t take that long. Gartrell heard the helicopters shift position, and then the rotor noise was louder than before. Gartrell glanced over his shoulder and saw the zeds on the sidewalk outside slowly look up at the noise. He couldn’t see the Apaches, but he hoped they were hovering above the buildings, not between them-

Loud cracking noises echoed through the concrete canyon outside as the Apaches opened up with their belly-mounted 30mm chainguns. At first, Gartrell didn’t see much of anything happen, then the stenches right outside the door… exploded . It was as if they simply ceased to exist, transforming into disassociated body parts as the big high-explosive rounds utterly decimated anything soft and unprotected. The glass door cracked as metal fragments slammed into it, and Jolie jumped away from it and into Gartrell, jostling him.

“Jesus Christ!” she said over the sound of the helicopters and the firing guns.

“Not exactly, but the aviators would like to think so.” Gartrell kept his AA-12 oriented on the stairwell door, and even above the discordant chaos breaking out on the street, he heard the sounds of the approaching zombie horde, stumbling their way down the steps. To no doubt they’d heard the helicopters as well, and were zeroing in on the sound.

“Terminator, Summit-Apaches report first pass complete, the block is temporarily clear if you want to make your exit, over.”

“Roger that, Summit. We’ve got stenches to our rear, they’ll be following us out in just a minute or so,” Gartrell said as he pushed Jolie toward the door. Small shards of glass cracked beneath his boots. Jaden struggled suddenly, shouting. “Maybe if two of the gunships can start working on keeping the subway station entrance clear, the other two can guard the back door, over.”

“Roger Terminator, will pass that on, over.”

They made it to the door, and Jaden’s struggles increased. Gartrell looked down at where the boy’s wrists were bound to his body armor, and he saw the plastic quick ties had cut into his skin. He was bleeding, though not badly. He squeezed one of the boy’s hands quickly, taking a moment to try and reassure him. It didn’t work.

“It’s going to be loud out there, so stay close!” Gartrell said to Jolie, having to raise his voice above Jaden’s shouting and the thunder of the hovering helicopters. “The Apaches will give us some top cover, but they’re not firing death rays-they can only stop what they hit, and their cannons are made to take out vehicles, not people. So stay close, and remember, keep them off us!”

“I will! I will!” Jolie looked at Jaden with a pained expression. “Oh, baby-” She reached past Gartrell’s shoulder to touch her boy’s face. Gartrell slapped her hand away.

“Later! Stay focused on what we have to do now! Let’s move out!”

He pushed against the door, and it opened slowly. He looked down and saw why; the quivering remains of a zombie lay just outside. The ghoul had been blown into three different pieces, but its upper body was still moving, and the shredded remains of one arm slapped against the door, leaving blackened streaks of gore on the pitted metal. Its jaws opened and closed and its remaining eye rolled in its socket until it locked onto Gartrell. It stared at him hungrily, with a mindless malevolence that he felt would terrify even a Great White shark. He reached behind him and grabbed Jolie’s arm, tugging her after him as he pushed the door open, sliding the thrashing corpse out of the way. Jaden’s struggles increased, and Jolie spoke to him as comfortingly as she could over the din of the hovering helicopters.

Gartrell sidestepped the gory remains of the stenches that had been on the sidewalk. Above and behind their position, two AH-64D Apache Longbow attack helicopters hovered fifty feet above the buildings, their 30mm chainguns panning from left to right. Ahead, facing in the opposite direction on the other side of Second Avenue, another Apache bobbed in the breeze. Its chaingun barked as it fired on targets Gartrell couldn’t see, zeds that were hidden by the billowing smoke of the burning cars.

Gee, if I’d known we’d be getting some close air support, I guess I could’ve saved my grenade.

“Come on!” Gartrell shouted over Jaden’s shrieking and the pounding thud of rotor beats. He hurried up the sidewalk, stepping around body parts and puddles of gore. Many of the zombies that had been mutilated in the attack were still functioning, and they crawled toward him, trailing shattered limbs or in several cases, nothing more than coiled ropes of intestine. Gartrell was able to walk around them without shooting them. Ammunition was at a premium right now, and he knew he would have more opportunities to go to guns on any number of stenches in the near future.

“Oh my God!” Jolie cried, and Gartrell turned to find her staring at the shattered monstrosities that crept after them. “Oh, dear sweet Jesus !”

“Keep moving! Don’t look at them, just keep moving!” As he spoke, Jaden suddenly began screaming. Gartrell turned and found a zombie advancing toward him in a crouch, its eyes fixed on him, its movements swift and certain. It wore a fireman’s uniform, and one arm had been half-devoured. As it darted toward him, hissing, Gartrell took one step back and raised the AA-12. He had forgotten how surprisingly fast some of the dead could be.

One shot from the shotgun ensured it would no longer be a threat. The headless corpse collapsed to the street, black ichor shooting from the ragged stump of its neck.

Jaden continued screaming and thrashed on Gartrell’s back despite his bonds. Behind them, the two hovering Apaches opened up again as more zeds came around the corner of Second Avenue and East 86th Street. Even though they were hundreds of feet away, the roar of their chainguns was loud, even for Gartrell, who wore hearing protectors beneath his radio headset. For Jaden and Jolie, who only had cotton balls in their ears, it must have been ten times worse. The zombies disappeared into spreading explosions of body parts, asphalt from the street, and chunks of concrete and glass blown out of nearby building facades. The Apaches’ cannons were fearsome weapons, but they were a little too imprecise for Gartrell’s taste at the moment, which was why they were classified as ‘area suppression weapons’-the guns kicked so hard that even the Apache itself rocked from side to side when firing.

Behind him, he heard Jolie’s shotgun go off, and he looked over his shoulder. The zeds from the apartment building were free now, and they streamed into the street behind them. One of them-a runner-had taken off after Jolie, and she had dropped it with a blast from the.410. She hadn’t killed it, however; the ghoul thrashed about on the ground, kicking the asphalt with its feet while flailing its hands in the air. Gartrell hadn’t seen that kind of activity before; apparently, the zeds could be knocked down for the count by a severe enough head injury.

“Jolie, run!” Gartrell shouted. “Let the gunships take care of those things!” As he spoke, he waved to the hovering Apaches and pointed at the dozen or so zeds streaming toward them. The attack helicopters did as instructed, and a moment later, 30mm rounds were slashing through the zombies. Even as they were being cut down, the ghouls never gave any indication they knew they were under attack. They only had eyes for Gartrell, Jaden, and Jolie, and they continued to pursue them even after their legs had been blown into ribbons and their torsos disemboweled by the high explosive dual purpose rounds.

As they drew nearer to the cloud of dense black smoke that blew down Second Avenue, Gartrell slowed. Jaden had stopped struggling now, and he sagged against the first sergeant’s back. Blood ran from his wrists where the plastic ties had pierced his flesh, and his struggles had only served to turn scrapes into ragged tears. Jolie stayed close behind them, and she fired her shotgun once again as a ghoul emerged from a shattered storefront-the Starbucks she and Gartrell had met in hours earlier.