Wormwood Dawn (Episode III) (10 page)

Dan sighed and laid back down to stare at the ceiling. Now his mind was whirling again. With all the chaos they had gone through recently, this was just one more thing to worry about. As long as crazy dude was out there, they would never be safe—zombies or not.

“Where the fuck is Jake?” Vincent asked.

“Garage,” Dan said. “Working on the flamethrower.”

“Ah,” Vincent said, lying back down. “Shit.”

As Dan’s mind went back and forth between anxiety and Vicodin-induced euphoria, he began to feel something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was a low rumble coming from outside in the distance, but he wasn’t sure it was an actual sound; possibly his own blood pressure being amplified by the Vicodin or the stress. He couldn’t decide.

Vincent decided for him. The thug sat up quickly, craning his neck to listen. Drew propped himself up on his elbows, his brow furrowed.

“What the fuck is that?” Drew asked.

Vincent stood up and went to the window, pressing his face against the glass. “Aw, shit,” he said. “That sound like helicopters.”

Dan and Drew both shot up. Dan slid open the patio door, poking his head out to listen. There was, indeed, the sound of helicopters approaching, and that could mean only one thing: Gephardt.

“Shit,” Dan said. “They’re coming.”

The three of them raced to pull on their boots and grab their guns. Pauli whined and hid, as if he wasn’t hiding in the first place.

“Somebody tell Jake,” Dan said.

“I’m sure he hears them,” Drew called back.

When they had all laced up their boots and strapped up, they looked at each other with a sense of brotherhood.

“It’s been nice knowing you guys,” Dan said. “If we don’t make it, I’ll see you in Hell.”

“Word,” Vincent said.

Dan jumped into the Hummer as the others took positions around the yard. He backed up the vehicle as far as it would go, trying to get it a good distance from the propane truck. If any stray bullets hit the tank, it would likely explode, destroying their only mode of transportation. And if they had to flee, there was no better way to do it than in the four wheel drive Hummer.

After slamming it in park and shutting off the engine, Dan grabbed his Barrett, and tucked the Magnum in his belt. He raced toward the vegetation behind the garage, taking note of Drew and Vincent’s positions. He was sure Jake was inside the garage ready to go. He hoped the big guy had something other than the flamethrower-in-progress to protect himself.

As expected, two black helicopters passed overhead, hovering in circles as they scanned the area. Dan’s heart raced in anticipation, this time feeling good and making him stronger. These were green troops, he knew, not professional military. They were just a bunch of military reject losers, he told himself. And it was true.

“Fuck you guys,” he said out loud, training his scope on the closest chopper.

Through the scope, he saw that the choppers were loaded with at least six troops apiece. No problem, he thought. One carefully placed round in the pilot’s head should take care of one group, at least. He aimed, seeing the pilot’s bespectacled face scanning the ground. He took a deep breath, listened to his heartbeat, and fired.

The windshield exploded and the chopper suddenly veered to the right. Troops began to spill out from the other chopper in response, rappelling down on cords in full armor and strapped to the teeth.

The targeted chopper crashed into the trees, becoming a cloud of shrapnel as the rotor chopped through the branches and disintegrated. It crashed to the ground full of its Nazi cargo, exploding in a fireball.

Vincent and Drew opened fire as the troops reached the ground. Three of them fell immediately, and the others took cover behind the rocks across the street. Their chopper spun around, pointing its guns toward the house, and released a storm of bullets.

Dan’s heart sank as he saw the bullets rip through the front of his house. Glass shattered and the walls exploded into a burst of siding and splintered wood. Enraged, he took aim again; spotting the pilot’s stupid fucking face in his scope. He fired, missing his target, but making his point. The chopper shot up into the air, veering off over the garage and around the curve of the road.

“
Mother fuckers!”
Dan cursed.

He raced to the other corner of the garage, peeking out to find the chopper again. It had moved over the trees on the opposite side of the road; too obscured for Dan to spot the pilot through the scope. Still pissed, he returned to the other side of the garage where Drew and Vincent were in view. They were exchanging fire with the mercs across the street, not making much progress.

Dan ducked and crept across the space between the garage and the house, keeping his eyes on the sky for the chopper. In the distance, he heard another rumble and the crunching of gravel. He looked down the road, cursing to himself as he saw six armored vehicles coming down the road from the south through the fog.

“
Fuck!”
he shouted. “
More coming from down the road!”

“Where the fuck is Jake?” Drew asked.

“Still in the garage, I think,” Dan said.

He moved back toward the creek, taking cover behind a fallen tree that lay across the gurgling water. The vehicles rounded the last bend, speeding toward the front of the house with their cargo preparing to disembark. Dan raised the Barrett, getting one merc’s head in his sights. He held his breath and aimed, leading the target just enough to compensate for the vehicle’s movement.

He squeezed the trigger.

The merc collapsed back into the vehicle as the bullet shredded his skull. Dan could see blood splash on the others, and the vehicles ground to a screeching halt.

“Fuck you,” Dan hissed.

Men piled out of the vehicles, rushing around the house in full armor. Vincent and Drew opened fire, killing several of them before they were able to take position. Dan moved to his left, using the creek bank for cover, but kept watch on the road behind him. Overhead, the chopper circled around again, banking to get a good shot at Drew and Vincent’s position.

Dan dropped to the bank, propping the Barrett up on a chunk of sandstone. As the chopper rose above the garage, Dan got the pilot in his sights again.

“Come on, you mother fucker,” he whispered. “Stay still.”

The chopper released a hail of bullets, shredding the ground just short of the back deck where Drew and Vincent were hiding. The two of them fled to the left, taking cover behind the garage. The chopper spun to follow them, bringing the pilot in full view.

Dan fired, grinning like a madman as he saw the pilot's head disappear in a cloud of red. The chopper spun out, veering to the left where the yard was flat and treeless. It crashed to the ground, rolling and flipping; its rotor cutting into the ground and throwing mud everywhere.

Vincent turned and raised his fist in the air in triumph, howling like a cowboy.

The remaining dozen or so soldiers fled their cover and rushed to the garage in a scattered group. Dan cursed, realizing he had no other weapons on him, other than the Barrett and the Magnum. He was somewhat close to the Hummer, however, and knew that it was loaded with several M4A1s and plenty of ammo. He rose up to a crouching position to make a mad dash just as the mercs reached the garage.

Before they could act, the side door of the garage exploded outward, knocking several of the mercs off their feet. The explosion was followed by a jet of flame that engulfed them all, sending them into flailing fits of agony. Dan stopped; his eyes wide, and his heart pounding with excitement.

Jake stepped out of the door with the flamethrower spewing like a dragon, and his LMG in the other hand. The grenade launcher was still smoking. He swept the flames in a wide arc, consuming the fleeing mercs like a demon walking out of the gates of Hell.

Drew and Vincent emerged from their cover, firing rounds into the flaming soldiers. Dan laughed out loud, rushing to the Hummer to retrieve another weapon. He opened the back door, resting his Barrett inside, and grabbed a rifle. Slapping a mag into it, and grabbing three others, he raced to his friends just as they finished off the last of mercs.

“Jesus Christ,” Dan said. “Nice job, Jake.”

Jake smiled, patting his contraption proudly. “Do I get points for that entrance?”

“You get a car,” Vincent joked. “A shiny red car, mutha fucka.”

Dan looked around at the scene, deciding what to do next. There were six Hummers down the street; all of them empty now. They would make good barricades, he thought.

“Let’s move those Hummers around and block the road on either side,” he said. “They’ll be back soon. I’m sure they have backup on the way.”

“You guys do that,” Jake said, setting down his pack. “I’ve got other plans.”

Drew and Vincent took off for the nearest Hummers as Dan watched Jake shuffle around in his pack. He produced four paint cans, each one jammed packed with nails and other shrapnel, all cemented together with a gray, clay-like substance, and wired with tiny sensors.

“Nail bombs,” he said. “C4, rusty nails, and motion sensors from patio lights. These should make good landmines.”

Dan grinned, nodding in approval. “Nice,” he said. “Make sure we know where they are.”

Jake chuckled as Dan ran off toward the Hummers. Drew and Vincent had each manned a vehicle, and the low rumble of heavy engines told him the mercs had left the keys in place. He leaped inside one of them, driving toward the creek crossing. Vincent followed him. They parked them across the creek, making sure either side of the road was completely inaccessible.

Dan searched through the Hummer, finding more 5.56 rounds and two
LAW
rockets. Vincent produced a few more ammo boxes, and a large automatic shotgun with a barrel-shaped magazine.

“Aw, shit,” he said.

“That’ll leave a mark,” Dan said.

They returned to the house. Drew had parked two of the Hummers down the road a ways, blocking it in the same fashion. Dan and Vincent got in the remaining two, and Dan directed Vincent to park his by the propane tank, parking his own on the opposite side of the house. They would make good blockades, providing them with some cover that was also stocked with ammo.

Dan went inside the house, looking around with a heavy heart. The front room was destroyed; the walls full of large holes and the floor shredded. The chopper’s heavy machine guns had done some major damage, and it would take a miracle to fully repair it. Dan kicked a chunk of wood in anger, growling under his breath.

This was his home, and now it was a battlefield. But it was one he would protect at all costs. Despite loathing the upkeep, the past few weeks had brought him out of his haze a little and he felt responsible for it. It was a part of his dad, and a part of him.

He sighed with contempt, resigned to repairing the damage. As he studied it more carefully, he realized that it wasn’t too bad. A few sheets of OSB here and there should fix the problems. There were no major structural damages; it was mostly holes and shredded drywall. No problem.

As the other guys came in to assess the situation, he saw a little pile of white and black fur underneath a chunk of drywall. He groaned, realizing that Pauli had bit the dust. The poor little dog was crushed beneath layers of building materials. He felt a twinge of sadness as he looked down at Pauli’s goblin face, with its underbite and big, bulging eyes. Drew stood next to him, pursing his lips along with him.

“Poor little fucker,” Drew said, sadly. “He was a good dog. Ugly fucker though.”

“Those fuckin’ assholes.”

Jake sat down on his chair, resting his LMG on the floor. “We need to be ready,” he said. “I just know they’ll be back. The question is what will they do next?”

“What do you think?” Dan asked.

Jake shook his head. “Dunno man,” he said. “Forest fire, bombing run… not sure.”

Dan swept the rubble off of the couch and took a seat. He reached into his pocket to fetch a few Vicodin. Drew grabbed some beers and passed them out, and they all sat nervously as they contemplated their plans.

“Did you set your nail bombs?” Dan asked Jake.

“Yeah. I put them alongside the Hummers. They’ll go off if anyone gets within five feet of them.”

“Are they enough to kill a whole group?”

Jake nodded. “Should take out four or five at a time,” he said. “Those nails will tear through anything with all the C4 packed inside. They’re pretty much little Claymore mines, but with rusty nails instead of pellets.”

Dan nodded. “Sweet,” he said.

“I gathered up all the
LAW
rockets,” Drew said. “They’re out there on the porch. Five altogether.”

“Those will be good for ground vehicles,” Dan said. “I don’t know if I could hit a chopper again.”

Vincent grunted. “You took out a chopper with a rocket launcher?”

“He sure did,” Drew said, smiling. “Blew it right out of the fucking sky.”

“It was nothing,” Dan said. “I just got lucky.”

“Shit,” Vincent said. “You take the mutha fuckas, then. I can’t hit shit.”

“I’ll have to switch to another gun,” Dan said, watching Jake walk across the room. “I’m almost out of .50 caliber rounds. I guess it’s back to the Robar and an AR.” He pulled the Magnum out of his belt. “And this sexy mother fucker here.”

“Uh, guys,” Jake said from the door. “We’ve got problems.”

Dan went to the door, looking out to find the source of Jake’s trouble. He saw nothing, but heard the rumble of jets in the distance. He shot Jake a quick grimace, then grabbed his rifles.

“Sounds like a bombing run,” he said. “They must think there’s a bunch of us.”

They all gathered their weapons, heading out the door and looking around for the best place to take cover. Dan directed them toward the creek, where the cold water gathered around a small clump of trees in a slightly deeper area. As the jets came nearer, they huddled behind the bank, putting their backs against the cold mud.

The rumble grew in ferocity, almost shaking the ground as the jets swooped down for a low strafing run. Though the thick fog obscured their view, the men still poked their heads above the bank to watch. Dan kept his eyes on the house, silently hoping their only shelter would survive.

The streaks of missiles sounded, and the explosions began. The ground rumbled as the missiles pounded the forest; sending plumes of fire into the sky and lighting the hazy forest in a bright orange glow. The men ducked down again to take shelter, covering their ears as the jets streaked by overhead.

“
Jesus Christ!”
Dan heard Drew shout.

A missile impacted twenty yards or so away, sending a concussion wave out that knocked them into the bank. Dan’s ears burned, and he could feel the heat of the explosion. He looked up just in time to see the surrounding trees begin to topple; one of them causing a chain reaction that threatened to smash them.