Only the Dead Live Forever (3 page)

5.

The men hurried
into the room, the Captain quickly locking the doors behind them. Shivering
from the cold and soaked to the bone, they began stripping off their uniforms.

“Err, ah, excuse
me! There is a lady present,” Swanson snarled.

“Oh, please feel
free to wait outside while we avoid hypothermia,” Sean barked back.

Swanson had no
reply and instead pulled a heavy chair and turned it so that it faced the wall,
then sat down. Mr. Douglas stepped forward and retrieved the wet uniforms from
the floor and started hanging them to dry, while Captain Bradley handed the men
some folded linens that he had found in a cabinet. The room was still dimly lit
by the emergency lighting and the winds were howling outside.

“When will this
damn rain end?” Brad said, mostly to himself while wrapping a sheet around his
naked body.

“What? This rain
won’t be over for a while, few days maybe … That’s a tropical cyclone out
there, and just the beginning of it. They were predicting a Category 3 at
least. That’s why the squids were prepping the tender to get us the hell out of
here,” Swanson answered, still facing the wall.

Captain Bradley
rolled his eyes and looked her way “Bullshit! Cyclone? Colonel Cloud didn’t say
anything about a cyclone when he briefed me on our exfiltration plan.”

“Of course he
didn’t … once we delivered Aziz, we weren’t his concern anymore. So when was
the tender supposed to leave? Where did it go?” Brooks said.

“I’m not sure. I
know the sailors were anxious to get out ahead of the storm. I already told you
PAK-PETRO’s been moving survivors from the other rigs to here over the last
couple days. We were just waiting on the word to get going … but then the
attack … I don’t know what happened. Maybe they’re still down there waiting for
us; we need to get down to the dock level!”

“Don’t worry
about it. The tender is gone. All I saw in the water were Pakistani boats,”
Sean said as he fell onto the end of a sofa.

“So what now
then?” asked Mr. Douglas.

“Now I say we
need to clear this damn building. I’m not spending another night in here not knowing
what’s up on that third deck,” Sean said.

“How do you plan
to do that?” asked Mr. Douglas.

“Well, I figured
I’d take a quick break; then we’ll go out that there hallway and up those
stairs and kill everything that doesn’t look friendly,” Sean said, pointing at
the doors leading from the lounge and into the building.

“What the hell? Are
you serious?” Swanson argued.

“I’m not willing
to just sit here until we starve … From my last count, Brooks, Brad, and I are
the only ones with any gear or food. We’re cut off from the supplies on the
deck, and our current position is occupied. Unless anyone has any better ideas,
everybody be prepared to assault through this building in two hours, and I mean
everybody
!” Sean gritted, looking in the direction of the two officers.

“Excuse me
Chief, but we aren’t trained for this,” Mr. Douglas said, stepping forward.

“Doesn’t matter
anymore; we’re all in this together now. We’re all going to pull our weight
until we get out of here. Swanson, tell me more about the platform, how many
were on board?” Sean asked.

Captain Bradley
got to his feet and took a step towards Sean, holding his hand up towards
Swanson. “Hold up Chief, I know you are not happy, but rushing to decisions and
pushing us forward isn’t going to solve anything right now.”

Completely
ignoring the Captain’s words, Sean said, “Sir, with all due respect, the next
time I knock on a door you better move your ass and answer it! You almost got
Brad and I killed out there while you took your sweet ass time unlocking that
door. Consider this fair warning. I suggest you ready your weapons;
we
will be taking this building back in two hours. Now Swanson, what do we know
about the platform?”

Captain Bradley
moved back to his seat and sat heavily without saying a word. Swanson looked
around the room, but realizing there would be no support if she continued the
argument, she began to explain what she knew to Sean.

“Well, this is
the housing and business block; it used to house the trades guys, pipe fitters,
welders, rough necks, stuff like that. We moved all of the military in here. There
were only about fifty of us in total. There are three floors; first two are
offices, and the top floor is housing cells. Twelve rooms and an open lounge. The
helipad is on the roof.”

“Food? Water?”

“Yeah, there’s a
stocked galley upstairs, but the water is off until we get the lights back on.”

“And next door?”
Sean questioned.

“The next
building over is the controls unit. It houses the radio tower and most of the
switches for the platform’s equipment. The far corner facility is the power
station; it has generators and such. That’s where I worked. We kept the power
plant running and it must be abandoned now. I’m sure that’s why the lights are
out,” Swanson finished.

“Can you get the
power back on?”

“Yeah sure,
easy, I’m sure the tanks just ran dry. I’ll just need some help switching over
the barrels … this place has plenty of fuel on hand,” Swanson said.

“What’s below
us?” Sean asked.

“That’s the
industrial deck. We didn’t go down there much, since PAK-PETROL was in charge
of that space. They’ve been housing all of their people there. The very bottom
deck was where they were loading and offloading crews from the ships.”

“Okay, clear as
mud then. Alright everyone, get your gear together. Be ready to move out in two
hours,” Sean said as he started to break down his MP5 for another round of
cleaning.

Brad leaned back
in his chair. He was extremely frustrated and sore from his battle on the deck
with the primal. He had no interest in Sean’s plan to clear the building, yet
he understood completely the importance of the mission. If they were going to
survive, they would have to regain their ground. He wouldn’t argue the
decision. Brad knew it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t the
easiest.

He dug through
his bag, pulled out a fresh set of MultiCams and got dressed. He grabbed his
rifle and inspected it. He hadn’t fired it in a few days, but still he removed
the bolt and oiled all of its components. He checked and double-checked his
magazines. He still had close to a combat load’s worth of ammo, and there were
still hundreds of rounds in his rucksack. Grabbing his vest, he made sure
everything was secure and then placed his last fresh set of batteries into his
night vision goggles.

Once Brad was
confident he would be ready for the coming mission, he leaned his head back
deep into the chair and pulled his patrol cap over his eyes.

6.

When he opened
his eyes, Brad saw Sean trying to look through the glass of the doors leading
into the hallway. Brooks was standing behind him, readying his weapons and
attaching gear to his chest harness. Swanson was leaning over her boots,
tucking in the laces; her M4 was sitting beside her. Both officers were also up
digging through their small flight bags.

Even though Brad
was far from his normal routine, he still followed a mental checklist when he
prepped for a mission. He went through his checklist, physically touching each
item. He tightened all of his loose straps and checked to make sure his spare
magazines were loaded and snapped in place. His fighting knife was hanging just
below his left shoulder, with the handle down. A tourniquet was on his right
shoulder, a first aid pouch on his belt. He wore his M9 on his hip, and the
holster held two spare magazines.

Brad finished
his prep work, drank down an entire bottle of water (never knowing when the
next chance to hydrate would come), then relieved himself into the empty bottle
and tossed it into a trash can. He was ready to go, so he made his way to Sean
and Brooks and leaned against the wall. Sean pulled four small cardboard boxes
of 5.56 NATO rounds from his backpack and tossed them to Swanson.

“Load these up,
Corporal; you may need them,” Sean said.

He then turned
and faced the group. “We’re going to move out in two groups. Brooks, Brad, and
I will push forward on the assault team. I want you three to wait until we make
the first landing, then move in behind us as support. I want separation in the
teams. Only one team at a time on a floor or in a ladder well. We will assault
forward; you three will lag back and be prepared to reinforce us if we need to
fall back in a hurry or get blocked. Corporal, you are in charge of the support
team. Any questions?”

“So we’re
supposed to just stand around in the hallway and wait for you to do something?”
Mr. Douglas asked.

“Sir, I would
recommend you get into defensive positions at every stop. Odds are, if we fall
back, we’ll be moving in a hurry. Just please try very hard not to shoot us,”
Sean answered.

Captain Bradley
moved towards the door and unholstered his M9. “Okay Chief, let’s get this over
with.”

Sean looked at
Brooks and signaled for him to move out. Brooks slowly opened the door,
clearing everything in his vision as it slowly revealed the interior of the
hallway. Brad moved forward and took a position inside the hallway and on the
left wall. Brooks moved a step ahead and took the right wall, with Sean holding
the center of the hallway.

With the door
now fully open and the light of the lounge bleeding into the hall, they knelt
down and listened for any movement. The hallway was as they had left it,
covered with trash and bodies and stinking of death. The assault team moved
forward and stacked up on the first office door. Swanson’s support team stepped
to the lounge’s doorframe and took a knee to watch Sean’s team work.

Even though the
first floor offices had been cleared the day before, they were cautious and had
decided beforehand that they would do a one hundred percent sweep of
everything. The assault group would clear the room and push forward, while the
support team would occupy their previous position to make sure nothing got past
them. Slowly they cleared the first floor and stacked on the ladder well at the
end of the hall.

Brooks cracked a
chemical light and dropped it at the base of the stairs. None of the support
team wore night vision, and he didn’t want them to get spooked and pop off a
round in the dark. Brooks waited for Sean and Brad to stack behind him. A
single tap on his shoulder indicated they were ready, so he crept up the dark
stairs. His night vision goggles painted the space a creepy digital green. He
paused often to listen for movement, but all he could hear was the creaking of
the metal structure and the storm blowing outside.

He reached the
top and looked down the long, dark corridor. It looked the same as they had
left it; the dismembered Marine still lay in the center of the hallway. The
stack of primal bodies was still piled in front of the open office door. He
slowly led them forward, trying to be quiet, although their boots slipped and squeaked
on the sticky, blood-covered floor; occasionally  they kicked spent brass and
heard the clinking of metal on metal.

Again they
cleared the rooms. The trio made it past the point where they had found Swanson.
They moved to the end of the hall and stacked on the door leading up to the
unknown third floor. They held up and waited, hearing the rustling of the
support team moving up the stairs and taking positions at the far end of the
hallway. Brad turned to look at them, barely making out their facial expressions
in the hue of the night vision goggles.

He could see the
silhouettes of Swanson and Mr. Douglas as the two of them peeked out and down
the hallway toward him. The captain must have held back to cover their six. He
watched Swanson take a step out of the ladder well and take a knee with her M4
held at the ready, while Mr. Douglas stood at a crouch just over her shoulder.

Brad felt the
pat coming from Sean to his front and knew it was time to move again. He tapped
Sean back to indicate he was ready, and they moved forward to the doors leading
to the third floor. Brad watched Brooks reach for the handle of the door. Unlike
the others, this one was in a locked position but it had been bashed in,
twisted at its hinges, allowing one of the sections to be forced inward off of
its frame. There was an imploded gap where the creatures had breached the doorway,
and the metal edges were covered with ripped pieces of clothing and skin.

Brooks wrapped
his gloved fingers over the edge of the door and applied pressure to open it. The
door started to screech as the twisted steel pieces pulled against each other. He
immediately stopped and stepped back. He moved back to Sean and whispered, “The
door is completely jammed up. I can open it, but it’s going to be loud.”

“Okay. We’ll rip
it open, but use the rope and give us some standoff distance,” Sean whispered
back.

Brooks reached
into his butt pack and pulled out a length of heavy corded rope. He lashed it
around the handle of the door, then they backtracked down the hall, letting the
length of the rope out behind them as they went. They stopped just in front of
the support team. Sean and Brad took a knee on opposite sides of the hall and
aimed the IR lasers of their weapons at the battered doors. Sean nodded to
Brooks to pull the rope.

Brooks yanked
the rope and the door let out a wailing screech of twisted sheet metal, but the
door didn’t give. He pulled again, making a lot of noise but no better results.
Without instruction, Bradley moved forward from the ladder well and grabbed a
section of the rope from Brooks. Together they strained and pulled, the door
screeching all the more. Brad watched as the door began to give under the
weight of the rope, but the handle section buckled and the rope sprang free.

Brooks shook his
head and pulled the rope back towards him, coiling it as he reeled it in. “Hold
position and cover me, I’ll tie it back on,” Brooks whispered. Sean nodded his
acknowledgement and Brooks started to slowly make his way back to the door. Only
two steps into the walk they heard a crash coming from the third deck’s ladder well.
Brooks froze in place, dropping the rope and readying his weapon. Then they
heard the first of many moans …

“Ahhh shit,
there goes the neighborhood,” Brooks said as he stepped back and returned to
the assault team’s formation.

“Captain, get
back to your team,” Sean said.

Just as Bradley
turned to move, the first primal crashed into the set of battered doors. Brad
raised his rifle and watched the doors heave. Sean fired carefully placed
rounds that pierced the metal doors, but the commotion on the far side
continued.

“Concentrate
your fire on the doors! Let’s kill these fucks while they’re trapped on the
landing,” Sean said.

Brooks and Brad
acknowledged the order by firing shots in groups of two into the doors at
shoulder height. They saw more rounds pierce the door, but the pounding
continued and the intensity of the moaning grew. Soon the hall was filled with
smoke and the visibility had dropped. They continued to fire straight down the
hallway into the moans, filling the doors and landing with a wall of lead.

Brad felt the
bolt in his rifle lock to the rear and called out, “Reloading!”

He quickly
dropped his magazine and fished a fresh one from his vest. Brad pushed the bolt
release and slammed the forward assist with the palm of his hand. Before he
could tell the others he was back online, they heard the crunch of the doors
giving way and the frenzied charge of the primals.

They broke from
the smoke and quickly closed the distance, rushing at them in a thick pack,
filling the hallway and moving fast. The assault team fired at them, knocking
down the first rank and slowing the charge as the falling primal bodies impeded
the mass. Without being asked, Swanson moved her support team forward. They
took up a standing position behind Brad. He could hear the officers’ 9mm
pistols join the fight and he could feel the brass from Swanson’s rifle bounce
off his shoulder as she fired into the mob.

One of the
creatures broke through and dove at the men, landing on top of Brooks. Brooks
pushed up his forearm and pressed the creature’s face against the wall as he
was forced over and onto his side. Captain Bradley stepped forward and gripped
the primal by the back of its collar to pull it away from Brooks. With Brook’s
forearm still pressing it tightly against the wall, Bradley shoved his pistol
against the primal’s temple and fired.

Brooks rolled
from under the creature and forced himself back into a firing position, returning
his weapon to action. Brad focused his attention forward as another wave moved
at them en masse. He fired nearly point-blank into the mob, smoke and the flash
of the weapons washing out his night vision.

Sean yelled “Weapon
dry!” and seamlessly pulled his sidearm, pumping heavy .45 caliber rounds into
the charging primals. The front rank’s heads exploded as more pushed them
forward and into the team. Then the fight fell apart. Swanson screamed that she
was out of ammo and she started backpedaling into the stairway. A primal leaped
from the mob’s ranks, hitting Brad square. Another jumped against the wall,
skirted the fire and bounced into Sean’s blind spot.

Both men were
knocked off of their feet and began fighting for their lives in the confined
space. Swanson and Douglas had both pulled back. Bradley leapt forward to help
Sean while Brooks focused his fire forward, trusting his brothers to regain
their position and knowing if he stopped firing to help them they would be
completely overrun.

 Brad was
crushed against the floor and could feel the primal gnawing at the sides of his
helmet. Brad released the grip on his rifle and strained for his pistol with
his right hand but it was jammed under his thigh. He forced his left arm
between the creature and his chest and pulled his fighting knife, then forced
it into the primal’s arm pit.

He shoved the
blade all the way to the hilt, feeling it grind against the bone. The creature
continued to fight, so Brad reversed his grip on the blade and pushed the knife
deeper, twisting the handle as he shoved through muscle and bone. He felt the primal’s
grip weaken. Brad took advantage of the opportunity and forced his right arm up,
rolling the primal off of him and to the side. He drew back the knife and
shoved it forward at a deep angle into the primal’s neck, piercing its brain
stem and skull.

With the primal
down, Brad looked forward and saw two more closing on him fast. He regained
control of his rifle and fired quick shots to knock them down. He turned just
in time to see Sean finish the creature he was wrestling with two rapid shots
to the skull, the heavy rounds blowing chunks of bone and blood into the wall
beside him. Bradley dropped back against the wall into a sitting position,
breathing hard.

Then it was
quiet; nothing but the sounds of post-firefight breathing and sizzling brass on
the bloody floors. Brooks reloaded his weapon before reaching down and pulling
Brad back into a kneeling position. Sean climbed to his feet and looked down
the hallway, using the beam of his laser to probe the fallen pile of primals. The
sound of boots behind them indicated that the support team was moving back to
the hallway.

Brad was breathing
hard; his hands and knees were shaking from the rush of adrenalin. He was still
feeling the high of the fight when he heard the sounds of boot treads on the
stairs. He turned just in time to see the support team getting back into
position behind them. Sean looked back and asked Captain Bradley if he was
okay. The captain gave a nod and climbed back to his feet.

Sean stared at
Swanson and Mr. Douglas. “Captain Bradley, I appreciate you coming forward in
the middle of that for me; I saw you help Brooks as well. Thank you.”

“I’m just trying
to show you my old ass isn’t completely useless when it’s not strapped to a
helicopter.”