“Son of a bitch,” Priest muttered under his breath. He continued to mumble as he got into the passenger front seat, “… bitching old fart… pain in the ass… just say you’re going… crusty ass motherfucker.”
Minutes later, Tug appears with a couple duffle bags and three guns, two rifles and a shotgun. Allison sat between Shaw and Priest. Tug and Doc manned the windows in the back because they had rifles with Doug was in the middle. “Ok, Shaw, let’s roll out.” Shaw rubbed his hands together in excitement, grabbed the steering wheel and pulled out, heading for Louisville, Kentucky. He was whopping like a kid as they started down the road.
CHAPTER 18
The pounding on the door was getting louder, and he was trapped. There just isn’t any other way to put it. No ammo, no food and no water made the situation hopeless. The only thing he had left in his possession was his combat knife. He might take out two, three, maybe four. There is no way he could kill as many infected as were on the other side of that door.
Darkness surrounded him and he was in a room he didn’t recognize. This seemed to make the situation even more hopeless. He felt lost, and he was totally baffled by how he found himself in this situation, even more hopeless. His mind was muddled, but that wasn’t important now because he had bigger issues to address.
The pounding was constantly getting louder. Was it because there were more fists pounding or was it because the rage was increasing in the ones already at the door? He didn’t know, but he was sure that the door wouldn’t hold much longer. Think, come on, think, there has to be a way out of this.
His eyes were used to the dark now, so he could somewhat see the room. It was empty except for another door on the far wall. That’s it, has to be it. There is no other way out. The door the infected were pounding on was rattling and sounded like it was about to be ripped off its hinges. He had no other choice, but to run for the other door which he does puts his ear up to the surface. Listening for any sounds, he hears nothing.
Another knock to see what stirs on the other side of the door and again hears nothing. The infected started breaking through the door he had originally come through, so that decision was easy. Salvation had to be on the other side of that door.
He reached, twisted the handle and jerked the door open. Without warning, a swarm of infected charged through the open door and took Webb down. They started sinking their teeth into his face, neck and arms as Webb screamed, trying to fight off the dog pile on top of him. A faceless man with nothing but an enormous mouth and giant serrated teeth lunged and bit out half his throat. The blood gushed out of his body along with his life.
Neville almost ran off the road, responding to the scream and jerking movement from Webb. “Whoa, whoa, Captain. You all right?” Webb was breathing heavily and was wide eyed. He was trying to gain his bearings as he closed his eyes and slumped back in his seat.
“What a fucking nightmare,” he exhaled. “How long was I out?”
“Couple hours, I guess.” Neville was looking at him with concern.
“Where are we?”
“We just passed through Bowling Green.” Neville answered.
“Seriously? That means we have an hour left.”
“Yeah, Captain. You think the rest of the team is ok?”
“I sure hope so, but getting Dr. Costa back to Campbell is the highest priority. As soon as we deliver her, we resupply, grab another chopper and go after them.”
“Copy that.” Webb turned around to check up on everyone. Dr. Costa and Shin were both asleep. Best to leave them that way, Webb thought.
They got close to Fort Campbell and Neville stopped the truck. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he stared out the windshield.
Webb saw it as well and tried to process it. They all exited the truck with their eyes wide and disbelief written on their faces.
The sky over Fort Campbell was black with smoke. It reminded Webb of the Saudi Oil Fields that the Taliban had set on fire. Even from this distance, they could see the overwhelming number of fires blazing out of control and the debris floating on the air current the fires generated.
“Did we enter Hell?” Dr. Costa added.
“Sure as hell looks like it,” Webb answered. “No pun intended.” No giggles, snicker or chuckles followed as everyone was in shock.
Just then, a police siren wailed in the distance. It got louder, as if it was coming in their direction. “Maybe we will get some information from these guys,” Webb said. They could see the police car coming up the road about a quarter mile away.
“Hey Captain. Does it look like that cop car is swerving all over the road? Looks like they’re drunk.” Neville said, his hand shielding his eyes.
“Yeah, but I’m liking it. Neville, get some eyes on that car. Shin take up a defensive position. Doctor, head behind the truck but put about 20 feet between y
ou and it.” Webb took a knee and sighted on the car.
Neville was prone and had his scope trained on the car. He attempted to zoom in on the vehicle, but it was difficult because of the constant swerving. His skills as a sniper to track moving targets was what he was best known for. He dialed in and could get enough of a picture to assess the situation. The view of bloodied bodies, wide eyes and laughing faces was all he needed to make a determination.
“Sir, those are not normal cops. Looks like infected to me. I am seeing lots of blood and laughing faces in that patrol car.”
“I trust your judgement, so take them out before they reach us.”