Chapter Nine - Midnight

Brutus peered back over his shoulder at the others with a solemn look on his stoic face as the APC came to a full stop. This was it, they were out of fuel. They'd left Thurmont behind them and driven without stopping for fuel or for sleep. They had been forced to find new routes into Washington due to abandoned cars and military vehicles that had littered the main roadways. These detours had taken them even farther away from any possible sources of fuel. Brutus wasn't normally one for letting his emotions get the best of him but even he felt the weight of their situation as they piled out of the APC with eyes searching in every direction for possible dangers.

The shadows of mid-afternoon in mid-November began to consume the landscape. The sun was on its way down, albeit they still had at least an hour of daylight left this proved little comfort as they made their way toward the nation's capital. Only a trickle of hope remained within in any of them and it was a hope born of absolute desperation. That thin line of hope was the only thing rescuing them from a never-ending abyss of despair. Malana, ever the optimist, tried to keep their spirits up. As they marched they were following their roadmap, toward the capital. She regaled them with stories of Haven, blending rumors she'd heard from the soldiers in Gettysburg with fiction and fantasy she'd fabricated to keep herself sane. The Haven of her stories was a friendly place, a place where children roamed free and played safely and stern but kindly soldiers defended the complex from the infected to keep the people safe. Eventually she grew tired of telling the story afraid she was getting their hopes up too high.

"Do you really think this Haven place exists?" Kael asked her taking a swig of water from his canteen.

"Soldiers seemed pretty sure of it," Malana said, "Corporal Ryan said there were tunnels under DC that would lead us right to it."

"I'm guessing they're just going to shoot us when we get there," Brutus said but he lacked his usual joking tone and just looked sad, "If this Haven place exists it was made for big wigs, we're just insects to those elitists bastards, they won't let us in even if we turn out to all be immune."

"What if we're not all immune?" Doc Wright said noticeably bothered by Brutus's words.

"Relax Doc, we're immune," Brutus said trying to cheer the man up, "We've been knee deep in the infected since we picked your sorry ass up near Riverside."

"It isn't me I'm worried about," Doc said absent-mindedly glancing back at the others.

"When we get to Haven maybe you can start working on a cure again," Kael said patting Doc on the shoulder.

The group grew quiet after that each retreating to their own thoughts as they hiked along. Kael thought of Jessica. How he wished there had been a cure to save her from the infection. To think that if a cure had been found she might've been in his arms. He hoped that a cure could be found and that no one else would have to watch someone they care about become a monster bent on violence and fueled by unthinking rage. He looked to the others and realized that they had become the ones he cared about now. Malana was like a Mother in a way, the badass kind who could bonk zombie heads and still remind you to eat your peas. A smile came to Kael's face at that thought but it was gone almost instantly.

They soon came out of forest, which a sign soon identified as Rock Creek Park and stepped, for the first time, into one of the suburbs of Washington DC. At first everything seemed at least somewhat normal until something in the sky to the south caught their attention. Billowing clouds of smoke rose in the distance obscuring the sun as they rose into the sky. The group rushed forward now as quickly as their feet would carry them toward the highest point they could find but Malana called them to a halt before they could scatter.

"The infected could still be around," Malana said before pointing to a nearby water-tower, "We go together."

They proceeded slowly climbing up the ladder one at a time before everyone was atop the tower. Eyes turned south towards the capital. Jaws dropped and eyes widened when they saw the city, or what was left of it. Ruins. Rubble and bombed out buildings were everywhere. Familiar monuments that had served as landmarks were missing save for one. The obelisk still towered high above Washington wearing only a few wounds from the fate that Washington had suffered. Flames still smoldered creating the billowing smoke the survivors had witnessed from the road below. Silence had gripped them now as they looked on in mute horror at what had befallen the once proud city. The center of Western democracy now a crypt, a tombstone for civilization brought to its knees by the tiniest of enemies - a virus.

"It can't be," Sarah Milano remarked, "The infected couldn't have done this."

"Not the infected," Daijito said, "This had to be the military."

"They bombed their own city?" Maria Jacobs asked, "Their own capital."

"Must have been overrun," Brutus said gulping as he looked down, "Besides, if all the VIPS made it to Haven they could have bombed it safely."

"I doubt they managed to evacuate everyone," Doc argued, "There is no doubt that some died."

"So, are we still going?" Kael asked.

"If some were left behind in the city than some had to have survived," Malana said, "Maybe we can find them while we look for the tunnels and get them out of the city."

"Works for me," Brutus said beginning his climb down and going as quick as he could, "I hate heights, if there's one thing I hate more than zombies it's definitely heights."

"So zombies on a plane would be the culmination of your greatest fears?" Kael asked with a grin, "Remind me to pitch that to Hollywood if this whole apocalypse thing ever blows over."

Despite the mood everyone laughed at the joke. The hopeless situation called for humor. Like a Frankenstein monster hope had to be constantly resurrected to keep it from dying fully. There was no other way for the survivors to stay sane and to keep their survival instincts honed.

They made their way into Washington DC as the sky lit up with pinks and oranges. These shades of color were choked from the sky by billows of black smoke rising from the rubble of the city. Fires were everywhere and the sound of distant gunfire told the group that their suspicions were right. There were survivors in the city despite the fact that bombs had clearly been dropped. One bomb, apparently a dud, sat in the ruins of a nearby building. It had caved in the roof and tore through a wall on its way down but hadn't detonated. The destruction was incredible and everywhere they went the stench of death followed. Bodies too charred to recognize, and scattered remains tossed by the explosions, were a common sight as they traversed the streets. Doc tried to identify them but it was impossible to tell if they were infected or merely innocent helpless civilians. The truth became even more horrid when they found dog tags and tattered pieces of a military uniform.

"Would they bomb their own people?" Kael asked.

"They left those guys in Gettysburg behind," Brutus growled, "I have no doubt that the gutless leaders would bomb their own men to shit just to save their own asses."

Malana gestured for them to be quiet and grabbed her silenced M9. She eased forward into the street. Her eyes darted back and forth but it was her ears that tipped her off to the presence of something. Soon everyone else heard it too, the sound of footsteps followed quickly by screeching and growling. Malana exchanged her M9 for her silenced M4 as the beast revealed itself. She took aim as the Hunter leapt from a nearby rooftop and landed on Maria Jacobs. Malana hadn't expected so sudden and violent attack as the Hunter dug into Maria's flesh. It was Erica Jacobs, Maria's daughter who was first to try to rescue her mom, whacking at the Hunter with her ragged doll she was swatted aside by one of its claws drawing thin lines of blood on her cheek. Malana put the Hunter down a second later with four rounds to the head watching its body erupt for seemingly no reason into a river of gore along the ground.

"Are you alright?" Doc asked tending to Maria's wounds but finding them to be fairly minimal.

"I think so," she whined, "hurts like hell though."

"She should be okay," Doc announced a few moments later after applying some makeshift bandages to her wounds, "It wasn't that bad. The Hunter didn't get at any arteries or vital areas."

"You okay to go on?" Malana asked and Maria nodded.

"You okay sweetie?" Doc asked dabbing some of the blood from Erica's face, the little girl nodded and stuck her thumb in her mouth, "She seems okay too."

"Let's get out of here before more of those things show up," Brutus said.

Normally Malana would have wanted to let the wounded rest but with sunset approaching and the sound of gunfire, explosions, helicopters and screeching infected in the distance still coming fairly frequently she thought it wise to press on. They continued into the city, everyone was quiet and all eyes were constantly shifting, searching the city streets and ruined buildings for signs of the infected. Destruction was everywhere, some streets were blocked, and sometimes entire areas of the city were cut off by piles of debris. Wreckage from civilian vehicles and military vehicles alike lie strewn across the city, twisted metal and rubble now defined what once was a bustling metropolis. And always there was that stench, gut wrenching and horrid that wafted through the ruins to greet them.

They came upon a body a little while later. The corpse was that of a soldier who sat with a frightened expression on his young face as if he'd been killed merely by exposure to the elements. The body was entirely intact and other than some abrasions and bruises he appeared fine. Doc looked over the body unable to surmise a clear cause of death. The sad scene yielded something else though. In the soldier's hands was something that instantly sparked their hope, a radio. Doc pried it carefully from the corpse's grip and adjusted the knobs trying to find the appropriate frequency.

At first static was all that emerged from the radio taunting their ears. Then the tell tale sound of voices came through as Doc zeroed in on a frequency the military was using. They were coming in more clearly now, the cold sterile voices of military men communicating. Some seemed to be the brass who had left the men behind in the city, their messages repeated over and over again. In between those broadcasts came the crisp clear voices of those who still remained in the city, most of them asking for help.

"Any Civis in the DC area come back over," a voice said over the radio, "This is your last chance over."

"We're here," Doc said with his voice nervously cracking, "There are twelve of us, twelve civilians."

"What is your location Civis?"

"We just entered the city about an hour ago," Doc said looking around but finding no street signs intact.

"Jesus Christ," the voice came back, "Then you don't know about the bomb."

"We can tell this place has been bombed," Doc corrected.

"No," the soldier said, "THE BOMB. They're dropping a nuke on this city tonight. That's what that encrypted message they've been replaying as been saying, they're going to wipe DC off the map and get rid of the infected and the witnesses to their own atrocities in the process."

"We can turn back, perhaps find a vehicle in the suburbs," Doc argued as the faces of his fellow survivors turned grim.

"Negative Civis, I recommend you continue south toward the Potomac. The suits may have left us out to dry but we've got some boats waiting to get as many out of here as we can. Just have to make it by zero hour, Midnight."

"Where?"

"The docks are along Maine Avenue and Water Street, near what's left of the Treasury. Good luck out there and stay alert, there's not just infected to worry about every damn survivor in this city, military or civilian, knows about these boats."

"What about tunnels?" Doc asked but the radio was on the fritz as another encrypted message came through, "What about Haven?"

"Can we make it by midnight?" Malana asked watching the last light of the sun vanish and night fully take hold.

"I don't know," Doc admitted finally giving up on the radio and placing it in his bag, "And even if we do there's no guarantee we escape the blast radius or avoid a major dose of radiation. We have to try though."

"We need to move," Brutus said reminding Maria Jacobs, "I know you're hurt but-"

"It isn't me," Maria said, "Its Erica, she's fussing and she has a runny nose now. I hope she isn't getting sick."

"Sick?" Brutus asked aloud bending down to look at the kid, "Doc, this kid don't look so good. She wouldn't happen to be one of the ones who isn't immune would she?"

"Brutus," Doc scolded, "What are you suggesting?"

"You know he's right Doctor, you told me and Landon yourself remember, back in Gettysburg... She's one of the ones who isn't immune, she's vulnerable."

"And now she's been scratched by a Hunter," Brutus said spitting, "I ain't traveling with a little girl that might go crazy and attack us."

"You scared of little girls Brutus?" Kael asked boldly but the look Brutus gave him cut him down.

"I don't want to have to be the one to put a bullet to her," Brutus growled grabbing his Spas-15 and walking in a southern direction, "I ain't sticking around while you guys debate whether or not to take her along."

Brutus walked into the distance hoisting himself over a nearby pile of debris before continuing on without them. The others looked away assuming the big brute wouldn't go far without them. They were gathered around Erica inspecting her each offering their opinion as to whether or not she was infected. It was true that she had a runny nose but some excess snot was hardly a symptom of the infection. While it had originally been labeled a flu by CEDA it had been obvious that this was no flu from the start especially to Doc who specialized in infectious disease.

"So she's a bit grumpy and she has a runny nose," Malana said shrugging, "Nothing to worry about right Doc?"

"Maybe," Doc said, "Maybe not. There's no way to tell yet. We'll have to wait and see."

The group was content in Doc's decision believing it too early to tell whether the Hunter's scratch had infected Erica. Still the prospect that this helpless little girl was soon to be a ravenous infected, another member in the mindless horde, was unsettling to say the least. She was one of only two members of their group that were not immune. Kelly Nakamaru was the other but she also happened to be a bit of a clean-freak and always kept herself as clean as possible. They turned back toward the road Brutus had traveled down but before they could climb up onto the debris the big man was scurrying back toward them with fear in his eyes.

"Run!" Brutus yelled leaping over the debris pile, "RUN!"

"Mind telling us what we're running from?" Malana asked reloading her M4.

The thuds in the ground answered all their questions as the towering behemoth crashed through the debris pile directly behind them. The Tank's roar echoed through the smoldering ruins as it chased down its prey with fists beating fervently against the rubble littered streets below. It hefted more than a ton of debris from its path and tossed it toward the scattering survivors. Several pieces managed to hit them but none big enough to cause any serious damage. Most of the pile fell far short of the mark.

Malana searched the area for ways to make fire, for some tools to set the Tank ablaze but there was nothing. She turned and began to run backwards, Brutus, Kael, Doc and Daijito did the same firing on the massive monster as it rushed at them. They heard something then and moments later saw the chopper soar overhead firing its mini-gun on the Tank as it flew. They moved even farther from the monstrosity as the Helicopter pulled in closer to better hit the Tank. They watched the two battling it out as the Tank tried to toss debris toward the chopper and the pilots narrowly avoided the debris trying to stay just above the Tank's range. They swept back and forth making run after run but the Tank was no slow moving infected and it often managed to duck behind debris. The Chopper made a pass, even lower this time, but the Tank was ready. It had climbed atop the debris just as the Chopper was overhead it reached out grabbing onto the skids. The chopper could barely hold its weight, it tipped in the air as the pilot tried to pull up. Tank and Chopper rose into the air. The frightened survivors on the ground below watched the Tank punching at the side of the chopper as it began to plummet to the ground below. The fiery wreckage landed only a hundred feet away from them. They lifted their weapons and drew in close only to find the Tank still alive. Though its legs had been crushed in the crash it still pulled itself along with those grotesquely misshapen arms dragging the rest of its sickening body. It let out a horrid growl with its charred body still smoldering as the survivors opened fire desperate to put it out of its misery before it could reach them. Then, at last, it lay limp.

The group had little time to stop and think. They scarcely had enough time to replenish their ammunition from the gun bag that Brutus carried, before they had to move on. Malana led the way with a flashlight in one hand and her silenced M9 in the other. Washington DC, like many cities, was known to glow at night but now it was smoldering flames of burned out buildings that offered the only light. Had the moon even been out it would have been blocked by the suffocating clouds of sinister smoke that still hung in the sky ever rising from the ruins.

They marched on in the darkness listening as the city came to life with the sounds of screams, screeches and gunfire even more pronounced than during the day. Helicopters with spotlights combed the skies but each time they spotted something they seemed to fire indiscriminately so the group hid whenever one passed overhead. No one said a word as they marched south, or at least they hoped it was south. Getting their bearings was hard but every so often a ruined street sign or semi-recognizable ruin pointed them in the right direction. For hours they walked, until they came to one of the few monuments still standing, though fires burnt on the lawn and tanker truck had crashed into the West Wing, The White House.

"How is she?" Doc asked Maria as they stopped to rest for a few moments.

"She won't speak to me," Maria explained, "I'm afraid she might be in shock from when that thing attacked me."

"Let's hope that shock is all it is," Doc said patting her on the shoulder and noticing the little girl was coughing and that her skin seemed an odd shade in the light of his flashlight.

"That's it people," Malana said after only three minutes, "We need to make the docks by midnight."

"Pity you won't live to see them," a voice called out from the shadows.

Out stepped a soldier and several civilians wielding a mix of weaponry. One held nothing but a machete but three held sub-machine guns and the leader who had addressed Malana held an impressive sawn-off shotgun.

"Here's the deal love," the man said in a British accent that told Malana his military uniform was likely pilfered from a dead soldier, "You give us your supplies and we let you come with us to the boat."

"You'll let ALL of us come?" Malana asked narrowing her eyes.

"No," the man corrected approaching her and lowering his weapon for a moment to sniff her hair, "Just you love. You are one fine specimen of a woman you know that."

"I also know how to use a gun," she whispered lifting her M9 until it was resting against his stomach, "All of us are going to the boats and we're keeping our supplies."

"You couldn't make this easy could you?" the man asked, he tried to grab for his shotgun. As the bullet entered his abdomen he realized his mistake.

His friends would have come to his aid, had the sound of an incoming horde, the horrid screech of dozens of infected, not followed his death. Malana realized her mistake as the man pulled back and some liquid was running from him alongside the blood. She reached inside his uniform and pulled out the vile of Boomer Bile. She'd heard about the effects of Boomer Bile from Private Wilhelm and she knew that Kael had a run in with a Boomer back in Gettysburg. The infected were on their way as every last drop spilled out.

Malana ordered the group forward but it was too late, they were everywhere. Infected scrambled across the White House lawn came from every crowded alley and ruined building. They did their best to fold inward forming a protective circle around the three children with Daijito holding his baby daughter. This would have worked if only common infected had come. Malana caught sight of one special zombie but it was the one they could not afford to have. Singing what sounded like a creepy lullaby the Siren approached and offered them a sinister grin with sharpened teeth before belting out its song to summon the infected.

Now the horde would be multiplied. Malana opened fire with her M4 slaughtering the Siren before turning her attention to the other infected. Back in Gettysburg she'd managed to find some extended magazines for the M4, each one holding fifty rounds of ammunition. She'd saved those for a special occasion and now seemed as good a time as any. Bullet after bullet bit into the zombie horde as they attacked. Corpses fell forming momentary impedances for their brethren. Still things seemed under control as each and ever survivor opened fire.

More infected were on the way. A Hunter pounced in from atop a nearby building only to have its face blown off by a Spas-15 shell. A Glider flew in letting out a horrid screech that was clearly mimicker of its last victim's death cry but it too met its end. A smoker got in close, hidden behind its fellow horde members it shot out its tongue wrapping around Daijito Nakamaru. The man screamed as the tentacle grabbed him and pulled him toward the White House gate. His wife, Kelly, grabbed the baby before any harm could come and watched in horror as her husband was dragged off. Doc turned and took aim with his M1A with night vision scope. He fired two shots freeing Daijito from the tongue before he took aim and fired at the horde that now surrounded him. Malana stood in front of Kelly now defending the baby as the others tried to help Daijito. Sarah Milano stepped out firing off shells with the Mossberg 500 she'd taken from Thurmont. The horde was thick, however, and just as Sarah reached Daijito a second Special stepped up. Burning a hole right through the bars of the gate the Spitter stepped forward and shot out a pool of spit struck the man directly and sprayed onto Sarah as well. Both cried out in agony a scream that became triple when Maria Jacobs began to scream as well.

Everyone turned toward Maria who struggled with Erica. The little girl now gone replaced by a ravenous zombie with pupil-less eyes trying to gouge her own Mother's eyes out. At her feet lie Greg, the four year old boy already dead apparently at the hands of his sibling. Squelching the feeling of sadness and swallowing his I-told-you-so Brutus lifted his shotgun and blew the little girls head clean off. It was too late for Maria, however, for Erica had grown claws just as long and sharp as those of the Hunter, but the little girl had gone for the throat. Doc turned and tried to stem the flow of blood. There was no helping her, she would bleed out in moments and more zombies were pouring in. They looked to every side firing their weapons trying to protect the two children, and one infant, who remained.

"I say we cut and run!" Brutus shouted.

"We can't just leave the injured behind!" Doc argued, "Reloading!"

"I don't think we have a choice Doc," Malana admitted looking back to see Sarah and Daijito were now lifeless bodies still being beaten by the angry horde, "We need to get the baby and ourselves out of here now!"

Malana had them cut a path with their fire while she beat back any who got close enough with her crowbar. They kept the horde away from Kelly, the baby and young William Milano as they marched south. They knew they were close but they also knew midnight was far away. They'd already lost four of their own and weren't about to lose any more. The horde died out a few minutes later leaving the streets behind them covered in infected corpses and the city before them eerily calm. Soon enough they saw other groups of survivors like theirs as well as plenty of soldiers who, unlike the last one they met, were the real thing.

"Come on people," one soldier said, they recognized his voice from the radio, "It's almost midnight, we're pulling out!"

"You're the man from the radio," Doc said nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

"Names Corporal Suggs," the man explained, "You Civis are lucky you heard from me when you did, you just barely made it."

"Not all of us made it," Kelly said sadly stepping onto the boat.

"We'll try to change that from here on out," the Corporal said sympathetically, "Let's get this show on the road."

The survivors watched the Potomac River race past as they set out from the docks of DC less than five minutes later. Despite having escaped the city without being torn limb from limb but a nuclear explosion none of them were happy. What was meant to be their last journey, their journey to find Haven, had turned into a nightmare. Five of their own lay dead, two of them children, back in that cursed city, a city they chose to go to. Malana felt partially responsible, guilt coursed into her as she considered Kelly Nakamaru trying to calm her crying baby. It was her decision to hurry on to DC after escaping Thurmont, she'd foolishly brought their hopes up that Haven was not only real but that the secret to it existed in DC. A warning went up to all aboard to go below decks as the explosion took place in the now fairly distant city. A city which had once stood tall as a monument to Western Civilization was laid low the instant that midnight struck. With a mushroom cloud rising in the distance the boats pushed on into the night.