The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (20 page)

           
That’s
all that the civilians needed to hear; they immediately began to scramble to
get the hell out of there.

           
John
armed the detonator. “This is Mandall, step away from the wall’s edge, I’m
setting off the claymores. Over,” he said into the radio.

           
The
soldiers stopped firing and stepped back, once John saw that they were clear,
he pushed the button—

           
Claymore
antipersonnel landmines that were planted on the outside every fifty feet at
the wall’s base exploded in succession, but there were so many undead at the
wall, that the explosions were like blisters of bodies that were blasted into
the air and came back down in pieces. The hundreds that were destroyed were
immediately replaced with hundreds more.

           
It
was useless.

           
The
soldiers continued to fire, and they began to throw grenades in the surge, but they
weren’t slowing them down and more of them kept coming from the city. The dead
realized the weakness of the trailer gate, and they began to claw and push at it
with purpose. The truck driver was still trying to back the truck against the
power of the dead, but the truck wheels were still spinning in burning rubber.

           
And
the truck was still moving forward.

           
Inch by inch
…

           
Foot
by foot
…

           
The
steel plating on the back of the truck trailer loosened, and the dead pulled
some of it off—

           
They
were in
…

           
Dozens
began to crawl under the trailer…

           
“Shit!”
John said when he saw them getting in. “They’re in, they’re getting under the
truck! Everyone to the truck! They’re in! They’re inside the camp!” he shouted
in the radio.

           
The
corpses jammed under the truck and spilled out into the camp from under the
sides of the trailer. Dozens of soldiers converged on the situation and opened
fire on them, but there were too many of them.

           
Hayward
was running like mad, but he was only halfway to his helicopter and all around
him people were trying to escape in every direction, it was a mass exodus of
hysteria.

           
John
yelled into his radio, “Everyone off the wall, get to the truck to defend the
gate! Now!”

           
All
the soldiers on the wall rushed down and joined the effort to stop the dead.
John ran down the length of the trailer and jumped down to the ground, a stench
charged at him right away, but he was able to shoot it dead. John backed up and
joined the other 200 soldiers that formed a circular wall around the truck to
stop them. Hundreds of rounds were being spent, but it wasn’t enough to stop
the advance of the undead, more were coming in than they could kill. They were
oozing out from under the trailer like a rotting sludge and bullets were
hitting them constantly, but they kept coming through.

           
Pushing
through the barrage of projectiles…

           
The
ones that were shot in their chests and arms reacted violently and bit at where
the bullets struck them…

           
Legs
were being blasted off, but they kept coming…

           
Crawling
like amputated demons…

           
Arms
shot off, but they wouldn’t stop…

           
Not
until the brain was destroyed…

           
They
kept coming…

           
They
were still pushing the truck forward and it was almost to the inner edge of the
containers.

           
Just
a couple more inches…

           
And
it would be open soon
…

           
“Pull
back, everyone pull back!” John shouted into the radio.

           
The
soldiers began to retreat, but slowly as they walked backward and continued to
fire at the corpses.

           
John
saw the driver still in the truck. “Get out of there, damnit!” he yelled.

           
The
driver jumped out and the truck’s engine idled with no foot on the accelerator
pedal.

           
With
no power—

           
The
dead pushed in the truck more quickly and the trailer past the containers and
many dead arms reached in, some piled up on others to grab at anything they
could reach. Hundreds piled up and spilled over the top of the trailer.

           
“Pull
back farther, double-time! Now! Now!” John shouted.

           
The
trailer was past the containers enough for the dead to squeeze through, they
were in such a ravenous state that they pushed themselves through with such
force, that many ripped their own skins off to get in. Then the gap was wide
enough for them to run through single file.

           
Then
it widened enough for them to run in two-by-two and this human ark would soon
be filled.

           
“Fire
in the hole!” John shouted.

           
He
activated the remote detonator and the entire truck trailer
EXPLODED
in a massive detonation that
threw many of the soldiers to the ground. The eruption of explosives splintered
the trailer in the blink of an eye and destroyed hundreds of the dead. It also
blasted the top containers by the trailer and they tumbled down and crushed
dozens of the ghouls.

           
A
quarter mile away, at the storage tank where the Black Hawk helicopter waited—Hayward
was on the stairs climbing up the tank when he stopped and covered his face
from the huge blast. “Holy shit! Fuck! Fuck!” he yelled and then kept on
climbing.

           
All
around the blast area, many body pieces fell all over and reported each impact
like the sound of falling sandbags. John was thrown to the floor as well, he
got to his feet, he was disorientated, but he quickly got over it as he looked
at the results of the trailer bomb—it was completely destroyed and
blasted into the ground, now it was a giant crater of black smoke and fire. Only
the engine of the truck was left intact as it burned in a pool of flames.
Bodies and chunks of flesh were everywhere, and as the smoke cleared, the dead
continued to come through the destroyed gate. Even though they had to run
through a huge firestorm, they came through, some made it, and others were lit
ablaze. Some came through partially on fire and others were completely immolated
as they ran in.

           
But
they kept coming
…

           
So
many rushed in that they actually smothered out the fires by their sheer
volume, it was a caustic flow of tons of dead sewage.

           
“Retreat!”
John ordered. “Run, goddamnit! Get out of here! Run for your lives!”

           
The
soldiers made a break for it, but so many of the undead were already on top of
most of them. Some tried to run and fire their weapons, but they were overrun
quickly. Multiple screams of agony began to fill the night air, along with the
smell of blood, accompanied by its metallic taste. The screams of civilians
followed, many of which were children.

           
The
dead only knew the need to feed and nothing of mercy.

           
John
was accosted by a group of thirty of them; he fired at a few and then did the
only thing that he could do—he ran.

           
He
ran for his life…

           
Straight
for Hayward and the chopper…

           
Hayward
jumped into the pilot’s seat and flipped on the controls to spool up the two engines,
but nothing happened.

           
His
face wrinkled hard with worry. “What the hell?” he tried again, but nothing.
“What? What is it?” he thought hard and then realized the problem; “Shit, you
idiot, Hayward!” he said in frustration.

           
He
pulled two electrical fuses out his pocket and inserted them into the
instrument panel’s fuse box. He worked the controls and the instrument panel
came to life, along with the engines. The helicopter’s rotor blades began to
move. Slowly…

           
Hayward
saw the attack of thousands of the dead coming through the defeated wall.

           
“Come
on!” he said to the rotor blades.

           
“We’re
coming with you!” a voice demanded.

           
Hayward
turned to a pistol barrel stuck in his face through the door window—it
was a desperate soldier—along with two other soldiers, another male, and
a female of Korean descent.

           
“Briggs,
get that gun out of my face!” Hayward said.

           
“We’re
coming with you or I swear I’ll kill you!” Briggs said and he meant it.

           
Hayward
got angry. “Kill me? Do you know how to fly this helicopter?”

           
“No.”

           
“What
about you two?” Hayward said to Briggs’ buddies and they said nothing. “Kill me
and who’s gonna fly, huh?”

           
“We’re
coming with you!” Briggs said.

           
“Briggs,
you’re lucky I’m not an asshole, like you! Now get that gun out of my face and
get in!”

           
The
three of them climbed in the back as the helicopter’s blades reached full speed.
Hayward worked the controls, the Black Hawk lifted into the air, and he hovered
the aircraft several feet above the tank. A couple other helicopters took off
and immediately left the area.

           
“What’re
we waiting for? Let’s get out of here!” Lee, the female soldier said.

           
“I’m
waiting for John,” Hayward answered.

           
“He’s
probably dead, let’s go!” Briggs said.

           
“He’s
not dead!”

           
“Damn
it, Hayward, let’s go!”

           
“We’re
not leaving until John gets here, Briggs, so shut up and man the mini-gun!” Hayward
shouted as he turned the helicopter’s side with the mini-gun toward the camp.

           
“What
do I shoot at? I can’t tell who’s normal and who’s not down there!” Briggs
said.

           
“Fire
on the ones at the wall, they’re definitely all infected!” Hayward said.

           
Briggs
activated the mini-gun and its large barrel that consisted of seven rotating barrels
spun superfast, he took aim and fired the weapon—a stream of high-caliber
bullets streaked out—accompanied by the sound that it produced, which was
a high-speed
BZZZ
of a large
industrial tree cutter. The bullets
melted
the undead into goo like a laser-cutting torch; Briggs fired short controlled
bursts to keep the weapon from overheating.

           
John
was almost at the storage tank when he looked up and saw the helicopter gunner
firing, white-hot rounds flashed over his head as he ran. He still had over
twenty of the dead on his tail and they were gaining on him…

           
Hayward
saw John. “There he is! Get ready, Briggs, he’s coming up hot!”

           
He
spun the helicopter around and faced the mini-gun at the top of the tank
stairs.

           
The
staircase was barely wide enough for two people as John pounced his way up, one
corpse caught him by his jacket tail—John spun round and blasted its head
off, he unloaded his weapon down the stairs and killed a dozen, but more came up
at him. He continued to run and when he got to the top, the helicopter was hovering
at the other side of the tank.

           
“Come
on!” Hayward shouted.

           
John
ran across the tank and then the undead appeared behind him.

           
Five of them
…

           
Twelve
…