A Glimpse Of Decay (Book 1): Red Storm) (5 page)

A tall and lanky soldier was sprinting by the tank when Kozlov called down to him.  “Sergeant Lebedev, we need to work as fast as we can.  The longer we stay here, the more likely the infected will find us.  He leapt down to the ground and unfolded the wire stock of his rifle.

“What about those who don’t look like they’re going to make it?” Lebedev asked.

“We’re not a surgical unit.  If someone looks terminal, we leave them behind.”  Kozlov couldn’t believe that he had just actually issued such an awful order, but he knew that he had to choose between the living and the dying.  “Put the wounded and the elderly inside of the carriers.  Everyone else rides on top, including us.  Now hurry up and pass that on to the others.”

Lebedev trotted out towards the rest of the dismounted troops and relayed Kozlov’s orders.  Several of the soldiers looked back at the captain with disbelief.  With the spot lights crisscrossing on both sides of the column, Kozlov and several of his troops crept out to the edges of the illumination.  They nervously aimed their weapons out into the darkness, not knowing what to expect.  He was certain that his heart was about to burst from his chest as it pounded away with fear.  He squinted his left eye as he strained to hear over the rumbling of the engines.  Several of the civilians walked into the light and sheepishly approached Kozlov and his men.  A few of them were dragging or carrying their mangled family members and friends.

“Please hurry,” the captain pleaded with the traumatized civilians.  “We don’t have much time.”  Kozlov gingerly took one elderly woman by her arm and pointed her to the tanks.  Just head to the lights.”  After directing several other frightened and bewildered looking people to the column, he went in search Lebedev.  The running engines were making him grow nervous—sooner or later someone else was bound to hear their rumble.

After sheepishly walking past several annihilated bodies, he found Lebedev standing with a group of civilians.  It looked like they were huddled in a circle around something.  As he walked up, he could hear that an argument was taking place.  A younger looking man with glasses and messy hair was raising his arms in protest.  As Kozlov stepped up behind Lebedev, he saw an older woman who was lying on the ground.  She was bleeding profusely from a large wound in her abdomen.

“As I said, sir, we can’t take her,” Lebedev explained.  “I know she is your mother, but there is nothing we can do for her.  She’s near death and there’s no room for her.”

“You can’t leave her here!” the young man cried.  He knelt down next to his mom and touched her forehead.  “She just needs medical attention, that’s all.”  He sobbed as he caressed her face.

“You don’t understand.  The longer we stay here, the more we’re in danger.  You’re endangering everyone else by refusing to board the troop carriers.”

Another man stepped up to Lebedev.  He was wearing uniformed blue overalls.  From his appearance, Lebedev figured that he was a worker from one of the nearby nuclear plants.  The man looked down at the woman and then looked back up at the sergeant and the captain.  With a flat resolve he said, “We’re not leaving without her.”

Lebedev looked over at Kozlov, waiting for his captain to say something.  Kozlov knew that the man was dead set on not leaving the woman and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.  The captain took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry about your wife, but—”

“She’s not my wife.  I don’t even know her, but she doesn’t deserve to be left behind.  For God’s sake, you’re the ones who shot her.  None of these injured people deserve this…deserve what you’ve done to them.”

“Yes, we don’t deserve this,” chimed a frazzled woman.  Several other people began to express their agreement with the man in the overalls.

“I’m not sure if you know what we’re up against, but I can assure you that if we stay around here any longer, we’re all going to be in trouble.”

“I know what we’re up against,” the man in the blue overalls said.  “I was there when it all started.  I saw how everyone went mad and how they attacked all the soldiers who tried to get into the storage facility.”

“What?” Kozlov said with surprise.  “What did you see?”

“I saw how those drunk idiots smashed a fork lift into the side of a containment tank.  They had been drinking all night long and when shift change came, they were playing on the damn machine…as if it were a race car or something.”

“Which idiots?” Kozlov asked.  “And what’s your name?”

“The maintenance workers for the storage warehouse where I worked at.  At Antov.  I saw the yellow smoke coming from the damaged tank and I knew that I needed to get out of there before I breathed in any of that shit.  I guess the others weren’t so lucky.  And my name is Boris.”

“But I thought they said it was rabies?” the grieving son said as he looked up from his mother.  “That’s what the radio was saying.”

“That’s what they want you to believe,” Boris said.  “It’s not rabies, its man-made…whatever it is.”  He stepped back a bit and looked around at the crowd.  “And it’s bringing back the dead.”

A collective sound of shock and disbelief rose from the group.

“Were any of these people there with you at the Antov?” Kozlov asked.  “Are they infected?”

“No, I was the only one there.  I met up with them as they were fleeing from Novaya Techa.  And since I guess none of us are trying to kill you, we must be infection-free.”  He looked over at the body of one unfortunate girl who had been killed by Kozlov’s vehicles.  “I did notice something though.  When people died at the Antov, they came back to life.  Day before yesterday, I saw soldiers kill several people closer to Ozersk, and those ones didn’t come back to life.  Like this poor young girl here,” he said, pointing to the bullet-riddled body of a ten year old child.

“These people that the soldiers killed,” Kozlov said as he tried to avoid looking at the dead girl, “were they infected?”

“No, they were just trying to escape.  Luckily, I was hiding in the trees or they probably would have killed me too.”

That makes no sense, Kozlov thought.  “Why would some of them come back and not others?”

“I’m not sure,” Boris said, “but I’m sure it has something to do with whatever leaked out of the tank.”

“Well, whatever it is, we need to get out of here.”  Kozlov looked down at the boy and his mother and said, “And there is nothing we can do for your mother.  I’m sorry.”  His voice was flat and devoid of any emotion, but he didn’t notice that because he was too busy trying to rationalize what Boris had just told him.

“Then the hell with you!” blurted the son.  “I’ll stay and die with my mother!”

Kozlov looked over at Lebedev.  Running out of sympathy, his words became filled with anger and resolve.  “Get everyone ready, we’re moving out in five minutes!”  He slung his rifle across his back and grabbed the factory worker by his arm.  “For all I care, you can all stay.  I’m not going to stand here fucking around with you and let everyone else get slaughtered.”  He let loose of the man’s arm and stepped back.  “You can either come with us or stay behind!  We’re leaving!”

“You cold hearted bastards!” the son screamed.

“Then go,” said Boris.  He reached down, and in a compassionate gesture, placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder.  “We’ll find someone else to help us.”

“I’m not staying,” said someone else from the group.

“Neither am I,” added another.

Kozlov turned and began to make his way back to the column with Lebedev trailing.  Several of the civilians followed while several stayed with the worker and the distraught son.  Kozlov returned to his tank and pulled himself back onto the rear deck.

“Cowards!” yelled someone from the group who had remained with the dying woman.  “I hope you all rot in hell!”

Kozlov climbed back in his hatch and put away his weapon.  He connected his headset back into the radio and said, “All Red Saber units, this is Red Saber Leader.  Kill the lights and let’s head out.  We’re going to try to make our way to an aid station just west of Chelyabinsk in Mirnyy.  Also, I need counts on the number of wounded and non-wounded we just took on.”  He re-engaged his night vision and looked down at Kuzma.  “Let’s go,” he said angrily.

“But sir, why don’t we just go straight to Chelyabinsk?” the driver asked.

“Because Mirnyy is the closest location that the Army has set up for medical facilities.  I want to rid myself of these civilians as soon as possible so we can carry on with our mission.”  Seeing how frustrated Kozlov was, Kuzma decided it was best to end the questions and do as the captain ordered.

Kozlov switched his radio over to the division frequency and transmitted, “This is Red Saber to Mirnyy aid station.  Do you copy?”

A static-filled voice responded.  “This is Mirnyy, we read you.”

“I have wounded civilians from the Ozersk area that I’m bringing to you.  Are you still operational?”

“We are operational.  I don’t know for how much longer, but we are still here.  We haven’t heard anything from command…and it looks like Chelyabinsk is burning.  We have lost all contact with them.”

Stunned and shocked, Kozlov could not believe what he had just heard.  How could Chelyabinsk be lost—so fast?  What was going on?  How was this happening?  “Did you say you have lost contact with Chelyabinsk?”

“Yes, about two hours ago.  We can see it burning from here.  Do you know what is going on?  Another unit passed through here about an hour ago saying that plague had broken out.  The called it ‘the plague of the dead’ or some nonsense like that.  Do you know what they were talking about?”

“Where was that unit going to?  Did they say anything else?”  Kozlov intentionally ignored the ‘plague’ question.

“They said they were going to try to make it to the Kazakhstan border.  I think they were running away.  What about the plague?  What have you heard?”

“I haven’t heard about a plague.  We don’t know what’s going on.  Just be ready to receive wounded.  We should be there within two hours.  Over and out.”

“We copy,” the aid station said.  “Over and out.”

Kozlov looked down at Kuzma and with a grim voice said, “Mirnyy has lost contact with Chelyabinsk.”  Terrified at his commander’s statement, the driver pressed his face to his viewport and tried to focus on the darkened road.  It was no use.  Kozlov’s words had filled the man with dread.  Tears began to well up in the driver’s eyes.

The column began to rumble through the darkness.  On the top of the carriers and several of the tanks rode the nervous troops who had been displaced from their troop holds by the civilians.  Their eyes peered out into the obscurity of the night as they huddled next to each other, hanging onto the vehicles for dear life.  Even though the roar of the engines was deafening, they all found themselves holding their breath—as if that would help them from being detected.

Awash in a soft red light, the faces of Kozlov’s driver and gunner were cast in crimson shadow.  After riding in silence for several minutes, Kuzma finally said, “How can this be happening?”  He looked over at the captain and again asked, “How can this be happening, sir?”

Looking straight ahead, Kozlov remained silent as he rocked with the motion of the tank.

Day 8

Checkpoint on the M-5 Just North of Dolgoderevenskoye, Russia

Private Misha Lutrova squinted into the darkness as he nervously thumbed at the safety latch of his rifle.  He could hear something out there, but he wasn’t sure what it was.  He squinted harder and leaned forward in his sandbagged position.  Sitting next to him, with his back against the sandbag wall, was his boyhood friend, Dmitri.

The unit which the two unhappy troopers were assigned to had drawn the unwanted assignment to guard a checkpoint on the M-5 highway just outside of the city of Dolgoderevenskoye.  A second sandbag position sat on the opposite side of the darkened highway and was manned by two other soldiers. 

“Settle down, Misha, there’s nothing out there,” Dmitri said.  He knew that Misha was on edge and he was trying to calm him with reassuring words.  “Believe me, if there was something there, our forward outpost would have let us know something by now.”

“I swear, I hear something out there.  Over there, by the trees.”  Misha pointed out into the dark landscape.  “It just stinks that we don’t have any night vision gear.  I can’t believe that command didn’t think it was important enough for us to have anything to see into the dark with.”

“Who needs night vision?  Anyway, when was the last time that you can remember when our night vision actually worked?  All the working stuff got sold off by those greedy bastards in supply.  Anyway, I have the eyes of a hawk and the senses of a wolf.  I tell you, there is nothing out there.”

After several moments of frustration, Misha plopped down next to Dmitri.  “What do you think is really going on out there?” he asked.

“Well, I can tell you that I don’t think this is any kind of drill, that’s for sure.”  Dmitri stood up and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his uniform shirt pocket.  He lit one and took a slow, long drag.  Sitting down on the waist high sandbag wall, he exhaled, blowing the smoke up towards the night sky.

“Dmitri, you’ll get written up for smoking!” Misha warned.  “You know the lieutenant tells us that you can see a cigarette in the dark over a mile away.”

“Who’s going to see me?”  Dmitri took another drag and raised his arms to his side, waving the cigarette.  “There’s no one out there.”

“How do you know that?”

“Easy.  No one has told us shit, except that we are to watch this check point.  But what are we watching for?  We know that something is going on at Ozersk, and that probably means some kind of melt down or something has occurred.  I’m sure that’s what’s behind all those explosions we heard earlier.”

“You don’t think it’s the terrorist?” Misha asked.

“Terrorists…no, not at all.  There’s no one out there gunning for us.  We’re just acting like a couple of traffic cops for the night.  Hopefully someone will relieve us soon.  It sucks though that the sergeant didn’t even leave us a damn vehicle so we could go into town.”

“At least Kolya has a radio with him.”  Misha raised up on the palms of his hands and strained his neck to look in the direction of the other sandbag position.

“Shit, Kolya and Evgeny are probably over there smoking each other’s poles.  I know they’re queer for each other.  Just watch the way they act around one another.  Total queers.”

“I don’t think so,” Misha countered bluntly.  Dmitri’s accusation had angered the young trooper because he and Evgeny were also close friends, and he had never witnessed Evgeny act the way Dmitri was describing.  Dmitri could hear the disdain in Misha’s voice.

“Oh, did I touch a soft spot there?” Dmitri mocked.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Misha shot back.  “You think everyone is queer.  You even thought that the mess sergeant was queer.”

“He has to be.”

“And why do you say that?”

Dmitri took one last puff of the cigarette and then dropped it to the ground, mashing it under his boot heel.  “Look at all the privates who he has working for him at the mess hall.  They’re all skinny, young pretty boys.  He makes sure that they always stay assigned to the mess tent.  Those pricks never have to be out in the field…like you and I have to.  While we’re out here in the middle of the fucking night—sleeping in the middle of a bunch of shitty sandbags—those guys are back in the rear…sleeping on a nice cot.  I tell you, he’s got his own private stable back there.”

“As many times as you accuse people of being queer, you’re probably the one who is the pole smoker.”

“Ooh, I did hit a sore spot,” Dmitri said, giggling.  “I’m just fucking around with you, comrade.  Don’t get pissed, you just need to—”

“Hey!” came a voice from the second position.  “What is that?”

“What is what?” Dmitri yelled back.

“Look at the city,” Kolya said.

Misha stood up and turned to look towards Dolgoderevenskoye.  Dmitri stepped out of the bunker and stood in the middle of the highway.  In the distance, the lights of the city twinkled, but in the midst of the glimmer of street lights and illuminated buildings, the orange glow of a fire could be seen lapping up at the darkness overhead.

Kolya and Evgeny trotted over to Misha and Dmitri.  “Wow, looks like a big fire,” Evgeny said.

“And you haven’t heard anything over the radio?” Misha asked as he pointed to the pack radio on Koyla’s back.

“No, nothing at all.  Earlier I heard some broken up transmission that mentioned something about a ‘dead plague,’ but I couldn’t get anything else from the radio.”  Kolya took the hand mic and held it out in front of him, shrugging his shoulders at the same time.  “See, nothing.”

“Well, try to get ahold of someone…see what’s going on back there,” Dmitri grunted.  “We don’t even have a fucking vehicle here.  And what the hell is a ‘dead plague?’ ”

Misha could hear a twinge of uncertainty in Dmitri’s voice.  This unsettled him because he had often thought of Dmitri as their leader, usually unshakeable and always in control of himself.

“Hey!” Evgeny yelled.  He had startled his fellow troopers with his loud exclamation.  “Who are you?”

Misha, Kolya and Dmitri turned to see who Evgeny was talking to.  In the darkness, the four men could see several individuals approaching their position.  Misha unclipped a flashlight from his belt and flipped it on.  He pointed the beam at the people walking towards them and he saw a man in a military uniform stop and then turn in the direction of their light.

“Where are you coming from?” Evgeny asked.  The approaching man didn’t answer.  Evgeny noticed that he was walking with a slight limp and that his uniform was tattered and dirty.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you?” Dmitri asked.  “Why don’t you answer?”  He looked over at Misha and said, “Shine the light in his face.”

Misha focused the beam at the man’s head and they could see that his face was covered in blood and dirt.  “Look at his eyes,” Misha blurted, “they’re white…and they’re not squinting.”

“He looks like he’s injured,” Kolya said.  “Are you from Ozersk?” he called to the white-eyed man.

At first, the limping man acted as if he wasn’t aware of the presence of the four soldiers.  He continued to limp towards them, but as Misha called out to him again, he raised his arms and reached in the direction of the group.  He began to moan and gasp and his pace quickened.

“Look, there’s more of them,” Evgeny noted.  Several more shadowy figures were starting to emerge from the darkness, making their way down the highway and towards the checkpoint.  Misha directed his light onto them and noticed that they all had the same tattered and disheveled look about them.  One woman began to rush through the crowd, and as she made her way through the slower moving people, she began to scream and shriek.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kolya asked.  The woman’s screams were unnerving the men and Misha was tempted to turn and run.

Dmitri turned on his own light and a movement at the edge of his beam caught his attention.  He shined his light to his left and off in an open pasture, he saw what must have been hundreds of people walking past their position.  “What the fuck is going on here,” he mumbled to himself.

The running woman shoved her way past the limping soldier, knocking him face down on the ground.  To the horror of the stunned troopers, they saw the back of the prone soldier—his battle blouse was ripped and shredded and a large portion of the flesh on his back was missing—Dmitri could actually see some of the man’s spine exposed through the ravaged musculature.  The soldier began to painfully get back to his feet, his nails scratching at the pavement of the highway.

In an instant, the woman was jumping onto the wall of the sandbag position, lunging at Kolya.  Misha, with his light still fixed on the woman, jumped back as she landed on the stunned radio operator.  Kolya and the woman tumbled to the ground and his rifle fell from his hands.

“What the fuck!” Evgeny yelled.  “Get off of him!”

Kolya struggled with the crazed woman as he fought to push her off of him.  “Get this bitch off of me!”

Evgeny reached down and grabbed the woman by her shoulders and tried to pull her away from Kolya.  Dmitri, stunned and speechless, continued to look at the passing people.  After regaining his composure, Misha attempted to help Evgeny, grabbing the woman with his free hand as he continued to illuminate her with the flashlight.  Struggling, Evgeny was eventually able to grab ahold of her long black hair and he pulled her head away from Kolya.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kolya screamed at the woman.  She began to violently swing her head back and forth, ripping her hair free from Evgeny’s hand.  In one lightning movement, she dove at Kolya and sank her teeth into his left bicep.  She began to chew on his arm as he screamed out in pain.

“What the hell!” Evgeny yelled.  He backed away and unslung his rifle.  With one swift stroke, he sent the woman reeling as he hit her on the side of her head with the butt of his rifle.  Kolya, blood spurting from his wound, writhed in pain as he clutched at his mangled arm.  He frantically tried to take off his radio pack to free himself from its weight.  Out of breath, Misha flashed the light over at the still woman and saw that the entire left side of her head had been caved in.

“Dmitri, where are you going?” Evgeny shouted.  Dmitri was slowly walking off towards the dark pasture, his light illuminating the grass around him.

Misha knelt down next to Kolya and checked on his wounded comrade.  The bicep was ravaged and shredded and blood was streaming down his arm.  “What the fuck is going on?” Kolya groaned.

“Dmitri!” Evgeny screamed out.  “Come back here!”  Dmitri’s beam flashed back and forth in the pasture, and Evgeny could see a group of shrouded figures walking in and out of the light.  A moment later, a pained scream rang out from the pasture, but it was quickly drowned out by a growing chorus of moans and wails.  The flash light fell to the ground and the beam went dead as the light was smashed underfoot by the horde.

“Hurry, get up!” Misha told Kolya.  He reached under Kolya’s arms and helped him up to his feet.  A loud boom echoed from behind them and the three soldiers turned towards the city.

A second, larger fire was reaching up into the dark and an orange radiance was illuminating the night sky.  As the shocked men watched the captivating play of the fires and the amber city lights, a moan from behind them startled them and Misha spun around with his flashlight.  His light illuminated the limping soldier with the white eyes.  He was reaching towards Misha.  His mouth was wide open and the terrified soldier could smell a vile stench coming from the man.

Misha froze in horror as the tattered soldier grabbed onto his tunic.  In the next instant, the air erupted in a loud staccato of gunfire as Evgeny fired his rifle in full auto mode at Misha’s attacker.  The flash from the end of the barrel lit up Evgeny’s face and the reanimated soldier was knocked back as the bullets tore into his body.  Kolya stumbled forward and dropped to one knee.  Evgeny stepped up next to Misha as he let loose a second burst.  The body of the limping soldier was obliterated as it crashed to the ground.  Evgeny lowered his rifle and fired one more burst into the attacker, and this time a bullet struck the forehead, blowing the top of the cranium into a thousand pieces.

Evgeny jumped back and slapped a new magazine into his rifle.  “Let’s get out of here!” he yelled.

“To the city?” Misha asked.

“Yes, just go.  Take Kolya and go!”

Misha sprinted forward and grabbed up Kolya by his good arm.  The two began to run towards the city and Evgeny remained behind as he tried to hold off the attackers.  He fired in the direction of the approaching mob, looking out to where he had last seen Dimitri’s light.  He took a few steps back and fired at another group.  Thinking it was better to use the darkness to conceal himself, Evgeny decided to operate without a light, and in the dark, he thought that he had seen several of his targets fall to the ground.  He reloaded his rifle, keeping his eyes fixed on the advancing attackers.  To his dismay, several of the downed figures began to get back to their feet.

Evgeny turned and trotted down the highway about twenty yards.  He realized that although the group was moving at a steady pace, none of them had exhibited the speed of the woman who had attacked Kolya.  He turned to take aim at more of the people following him, and as he struggled to see in the darkness, he heard some movement coming from his right side.