Project Zulu (10 page)

“This is John Macgregor, Chanel Three Pittsburgh, reporting
live from the Leonard C. Miller Bridge in Apollo. As you can see from the sign
nailed to the wooden barricade blocking the road, no traffic is being permitted
into, or out of the Upper Apollo area. If I was able to go over the bridge, we
would be able to show you video of a train, stopped in the middle of the
crossing, ensuring no vehicular traffic. Requests for Air Chopper Three to fly
overhead have been denied by local FAA officials. We have received similar
reports from people in the communities of Murrysville, Leechburg, Vandergrift
and Burrell, that all access into Upper Apollo has been restricted.”

The camera man waves his hand to try and get John’s
attention, but John continues his soliloquy.

“This area is obviously no stranger to controversial events.
One only has to go back to the final week of 1979, when the now infamous duo of
Lesko and Travaglia started on an alleged killing spree that traversed the New
Year. One of the last victims of that ‘thrill kill’ spree spent the final
moments of his life right where I am standing, and died on this very bridge,
which now carries bears his name. Just fourteen years earlier, 1965, the area
was again mired in controversy over the then dubbed ‘Apollo Affair’ which saw
the NUMEC corporation loose over 200 pounds of uranium. I do not know exactly
what is happening now, but I suspect it has something to do with the Syscorp
complex and the mysterious vehicle accident that occurred just days ago.
Reporting live, from controversial downtown Apollo, this is John Macgregor back
to you in the studio.”

The camera man, Burt Piernersky, takes the camera away from
his shoulder. “Ah, hey John, I just thought you should know, that did not go
out live. Something happened as soon as you started talking. I got it all on
film, so it can be broadcast later.”

“What the hell do you mean we lost the live feed? Call the
station right now, get Harry on the line. We are out here breaking the law,
probably risking our lives and that son of a bitch Harry cut our live feed, I
am going to have his ass.”

“John, look man, I don’t think the station did anything, and
my cell phone isn’t working either; check yours and see if you have a signal.”

“Mine is dead too. Huh?”

“John, what exactly did you mean by breaking the law?”

“Burt, you dumb ass, we are about five miles inside of a secure
containment area. The military might even shoot us if they catch us.” He winks
at Burt. “Alright, to hell with it, get in the van; let’s get out of here
before the military does show up.”

Just then, John spots a group of people, behind the train on
the other side of the bridge. “Burt, hold on a minute, I think there are people
over there.” John points as he dashes across the bridge.

Burt whines. “John come on; let’s just get out of here.” But
he knows better and follows John across the bridge, camera at the ready.

John slides under the train head first, and calls for Burt
to turn on the camera, and do the same. Burt obliges John, but goes under feet
first. Burt cries out when John grabs his feet and roughly pulls him through.

“Knock it off John, that hurts and I almost dropped the
camera.”

He does drop the camera, once he is pulled the entire way
through. The camera continues to record, catching the group of zombies bite and
pull bloody chunks of flesh from John and Burt. Burt is still kicking and
trying to scream when the army jeep pulls up next to the news van on the
bridge. Unable to locate the reporter and camera man, the soldiers drive off.

Captain Hellatoni has sent his group ahead and is trailing
the four men back to the bunker, after successfully laying down mines and
tripwires as an early warning defensive perimeter. He has decided that once the
entire group is back together, the ten of them will sweep the hallway in the
opposite direction, set up a similar defensive perimeter, and then hunker down
in the bunker unless the General says differently.

The soldiers have turned the corner, just as an explosion
resonates from the direction they had just retreated from. “You men continue
back to the bunker, set up a perimeter on the opposite hallway, and send one
man out to bring in the two sentries. Once everyone is in the bunker, secure
the hatch and wait for me. I want to see if any of those things set off the
next set of mines.”

The men follow his order, and continue down the hallway. He
checks the ammo clips in both his rifle and sidearm, and then waits. After
three minutes, he decides that nothing is approaching, so he turns to go back
to the bunker. He stops, only momentarily, when the sound of automatic weapon
fire echoes off the walls, followed by screams of agony and terror.

He begins to run toward the sound, turns the corner and runs
right into a zombie. The force of the impact knocks the creature to the ground,
and he instinctively levels his weapon and sends three bullets right into its
face. The sound of his weapon immediately attracts the attention of four more zombies,
and they begin to stagger toward him. He begins to back down the hallway, when
he hears one of the mines explode, behind him, over his shoulder.

Operating only on adrenaline and training, he fires a quick
burst into the lock of the first door he passes, slams his shoulder into it and
slips inside. As he is closing the door, he tosses two fragment grenades toward
the four approaching zombies. After a quick visual assessment, he drags a desk
and a couple of chairs in front of the door and then backs into a darkened
corner.

The grenades successfully eliminate the four zombies, but
the sound resonates all the way back to the bunker. There is a group of zombies
inside the bunker that are just finishing off the rest of Captain Hellatoni’s
squad, some of them start to walk toward the sound of the explosion; and some
manage to stumble into the darkened passageway leading outside.

The trip back to Syscorp takes closer to half an hour. The
small group of soldiers, minus two, is deployed in a makeshift defensive
perimeter. Mike is sitting on the hood of a jeep, impatiently waiting for a
report from the two soldiers he sent forward to investigate the outer wall of
the compound. He is rolling a hollow point .45 caliber bullet across the
fingers of his right hand. Over the knuckle, under the finger, over the
knuckle, under the finger; he could do this over and over, picking up speed
with each pass.

The bullet falls, clinking off of the jeeps hood, when a
burst of loud static resonates out of the radio sitting next to him. The two
soldiers report back that the secret escape hatch is open, and protected by two
trip-wired land mines. Mike tells the soldiers to return, and bends down to
pick up the bullet.

"Hey Mike is everything alright? Did the men find
anything up around the wall?" Jimmy asks approaching Mike.

Mike looks up at Jimmy, the bullet now traveling across his
knuckles again. "The hidden escape door is open; it appears as if Captain
Hellatoni and his men followed protocol by booby trapping the opening. They
tried to reach Captain Hellatoni on the emergency hailing frequency, but got no
answer."

Jimmy sits down next to Mike on the Jeeps hood. "So
what are we going to do Mike? We have a group of men that did not make the
retreat back here with us; and we have a group of men inside the building that
we've lost contact with. Are we just going to leave them all behind?"

The bullet begins to fall from Mike's hand again but this
time he snaps out with his other hand and catches the bullet before it lands.
"No, Jimmy, I don't think that we will." Mike is on his feet walking
towards the soldier with the satellite phone; his right hand is already
subconsciously sliding the bullet back into the clip from which it came.

"Corporal, I want you to get on the phone to the President
and tell him that the building appears to be secured. You tell him that I am
going to lead a team inside the building to get positive confirmation and that
we're going to need an additional hour to reach the extraction point." He
grabbed the walkie-talkie from his belt and barked into it, ordering the
perimeter soldiers back to base camp. “Jimmy, I am going to take half the squad
into the building and get Captain Hellatoni and his men. I want you to take the
other half and go back and find the men we left on the road.”

The soldier with the satellite phone approaches and waits
patiently to speak. “Sir, the President said to tell you that you have thirty
extra minutes, and not a second more. He also said that the communications
helicopter picked up the men retreating down the road.”

Mike looked at Jimmy. “I guess this means you get to fall
back to the extraction point and do your best to stall if I am not there on
time.”

“Mike, you know as well as I do that the chopper is taking
off right on time no matter what I do; and that a pretty big bomb is going to
land on that building about thirty seconds later.”

Mike just grins back at Jimmy and walks off to lead his
group into the building.

“Man oh man, no offense fellas, but how long have you guys
been swimming around in that swamp? You guys smell worse than the shit house in
July.” The black hawk pilot yelled back to the group of soldiers he just picked
up from the road.

None of them answered. They simply sat hunched together,
staring at the floor. They had very specific orders from Azaka.

The airship makes another pass over the hoard of zombies
below, and both gunners stop laughing at the pilot’s joke and resume pumping
.50 caliber shells into the hoard. One of them stopped suddenly, and got the
other gunners attention.

“I think I see a guy on a motorcycle riding out in front of
those things.”

The other gunner walks across and looks. “Damn; there is a
guy on a bike, sweet looking ride too. Go tell Hanuno to call in and see if we
should try an extraction.” The second gunner said motioning to the pilot. He
walked up toward the cockpit. “Hey Hanuno, me and Drew are pretty sure there is
some unlucky bastard trying to outrun those things on a chopper down there.”

He gave himself the nickname Han for being the
self-proclaimed best helicopter pilot in the Army; his friends combined it with
the word Uno, not because of his Hispanic heritage, but because Uno was, in
their best estimation; Spanish for ‘solo’.

“I know, I already radioed it in. Command has ordered us to
do a flyby over some compound a couple of clicks down the road and then to get
back and refuel for some extraction mission. Hope he has a full tank of gas,
because he is on his own.”

The Blackhawk banked sharply to the left two times, and then
was heading away from the hoard, back down the road toward the Syscorp
building. The five rescued soldiers are still sitting quietly in the back, not
speaking or engaging any of the Blackhawk crew, just looking down at the floor,
emitting a foul, rotten odor.

Including himself, but not counting Jimmy, OhAy and the
other researchers, there are fifteen soldiers left. Mike sends six to escort
the researchers to the extraction point, under the command of Jimmy, and takes
the remaining eight with him into the building.

They disarm the mines at the entrance, and go into the
tunnel using a ‘point cover’ formation, one man in the lead, two groups of
three and two men covering the rear. They have been in the tunnel less than two
minutes when gunfire erupts from the point man. Mike orders the two rear guards
to stop and ensure the escape route remains open, then leads the remaining five
forward to engage.

They almost collide with the point man as he is retreating down
the tunnel toward them at full speed.

“General, there are at least fifteen of those zombies up
ahead. Sir, they are dressed in uniform and are carrying weapons.”

Mike is astonished. “Are they using the weapons?”

“No Sir, I don’t think they can. They are just shuffling
around bumping into each other.”

“Alright, everyone relax and stay calm. Check your weapons,
full clip in, full clip ready to go. I want you two men prone, you two kneeling
and you stand next to me. You, hustle back to the rear, send the other two up
to me, and then mine the entrance with mines and trip wires. I want you to hunker
down halfway in the tunnel; nothing gets in past you. If you have to, blow the
entrance, nothing gets past you.” The soldier salutes and scurries down the
tunnel.

“Remember men, head shots only, conserve your ammo, one shot
one kill.”

The group of zombies slowly approaches the makeshift
skirmish line of soldiers. Mike tosses a luminescing flare and the firing
begins. In less than thirty seconds the zombies are down and the soldiers are
reloading. “Be careful, but check those things for ammo, take any ordinance
that you need too.”

One of the soldiers lets out a gasp. “General, I think that
this thing used to be Major Chonk.”

Mike walks over and stares at the disfigured creature
wearing a Major’s uniform, and shakes his head in disbelief. The creature is
still moving, trying to grab Mike’s leg. Mike aims his sidearm and fires a
precise shot into the zombies head. He kneels down and unpins the gold oak
leaves from the uniform collar and places them in his pocket.

Mike walks up to one of the soldiers. “You stay here, when
the other two get up, I want you three to bring up the rear. Stop every thirty
feet and place mines and tripwires. We will wait for you at the end of the
tunnel in the control room.” The soldier salutes as Mike walks away.

“Alright men, follow me!” Mike shouts to the remaining
soldiers as he heads down the tunnel corridor.