Chapter Nine: Cavalry
There was a moment of weightlessness and then gravity reasserted its dominance. Danny felt an unpleasant tingling sensation that reached from the pit of his stomach down to his testicles as his legs kicked out over the thin gap of empty space between rooftops. The feeling vanished in a heartbeat as his legs returned to solid ground, gravel crunching beneath his boots.
This is a lot less fun than it looks. Exhaling a breath that he seemed to have been holding for hours, Danny glanced back over his shoulder as the rest of his people made their landings. Everyone seemed to manage it well except for Bert Ross who nearly lost his footing but was saved from an embarrassing tumble as Godwin caught hold of his shoulder.
"I don't think I can handle much more of this." Ross gasped, his face was as white as a fish's belly and nearly as wet. "Feels like my heart's trying to run up my throat and escape."
"How much longer do we need to keep this up?" Brewer asked, doubled over with his hands on his knees.
"Not much longer." Danny glanced across the way, saw that they only had another three buildings to go before they ran out of real estate. "We'll take five but no more than that. We're losing light."
Turning his back, the marshall heard a few grunts and sighs as the others sat down to rest burning legs and catch their breath. Pacing across the gravel, Danny moved to the lip of the roof and glanced tentatively over the edge. The street was too far below to make out any details but he could see the vague outlines of people shambling through the alleys, walking drunkenly into one another without seeming to notice.
"Fucking freaks." Gilson's voice so close to his ear made Danny jump. He hadn't even heard the man approach.
Danny glanced over at his deputy. He could see the fear hidden beneath the disgust in the man's eyes. Mike's pupils were diluted and trembling. His thick jaw was set so tightly that Danny expected to hear his subordinate's teeth crack at any second.
"We don't need to deal with them for awhile." Danny said, backing away from the edge. "Enjoy it while you can. How are we set for ammo anyway?"
"Pretty much fully loaded for the sidearms," Gilson answered absently, his gaze still on the mob of wandering creatures below. "We handed out the rest of the mags for the M4s but if we have another situation like we did at Ross' we'll be dry before too long." Snorting loudly, Gilson spat over the edge with a scowl before stalking away to rejoin the others.
Danny watched the deputy walk off and wondered just how much damage the man's psyche had taken. In a single day they had all seen enough horror for a lifetime - two lifetimes even. Mike Gilson could be a prick sometimes but for all that he was a tough prick. Danny had never seen the man so...hostile before.
Or wound up as tightly as he is now. I've seen that man laugh right in the faces of people who've tried to stab and shoot him. Shit, he had his teeth knocked out by a drug dealer once and all he did was smile a bloody smile right in the bastard's face before he tossed him in the back of a squad car.
If Gilson was starting to go a little squirrelly then Danny knew that didn't bode well for the rest of his team. For the rest of any of them. There was only so much someone could see before their coping mechanism was overwhelmed and their mind went spiraling down a deep, dark well.
Not that there's anything I can do about that right now. Cobb sighed and moved away from the edge. I just have to get everyone out of here and hope that the department's willing to foot the cost of our therapy bills.
Long shadows stretched out across the rooftop and Danny grunted as he realized he had lost track of time. He glanced up to see the sun's final light fade from the sky. Darkness descended quickly, filling the sky with fat, black clouds.
"Everybody up," Danny said. "It's hard enough jumping these things in the daylight. Everyone go -"
"Wait!" Drake said, standing up so suddenly that Michelle jumped up behind him to instinctively grab hold of his jumpsuit. He seemed not to notice. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Bert asked, eyes wide as he looked around left and right, no doubt wondering what new nightmare was about to befall them.
"I don't hear shit," Gilson growled.
"No! Listen!" Drake insisted and the desperation in his voice forced silence on the group. "There...do you hear that?"
"What are you..." Danny stopped as the soft noise reached his ears. It was a smooth, whup-whup-whup sound. Danny recognized it a second before Sheesh shouted.
"That's a helicopter!"
Danny craned his neck and perked his ears, trying to determine where the bird was coming in from. He spotted it a moment later, coming in from the west, tracing across the sky to the rear of the rooftop. The chopper was a massive black beast, a personnel carrier most likely, visible against the darkening sky only because of the cockpit and taillights.
"Sheesh! Tuck! Pop flares!"
The two men ripped open their utility pouches and each withdrew a pair of orange road flares. Red smoke hissed upwards as the deputies struck the sticks, waving them frantically above their heads. Danny raised his M4 and began snapping the attached flashlight off and on. A second later he noticed Gilson doing the same thing in his periphery.
"Down here! Down here!" Reggie laughed as he jumped up and down waving his arms faster than the two marshals. "Hey! We're here!"
"They're coming in too fast," Danny heard Clarke mutter.
Something's wrong...
The helicopter continued to close but its path was no longer smooth. The chopper bucked left and right like a dying animal going into spasm. The sound of its rotors splitting the air seemed off too, it had grown more rapid and haphazard. Whupwhupwhup-whup-whupwhupwhup-whup. When Danny saw the waves of smoke coming off of the bird he felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach.
Shocked into horrified silence, the survivors watched as the helicopter passed overhead. Spiraling out of control now the smoking chopper whirled out across the streets and slammed into the middle of the road almost a block away. Even high atop the roof of the apartment building, Danny felt the reverberations of the concussion as the copter slammed into the earth, tearing up the pavement to the sound of screeching metal and breaking glass.
"Fuck me..." Mick Murphy breathed at Danny's side. The detective looked older than Cobb remembered.
"Goddamn it!" Gilson roared, he stormed over to where one of the flares had fallen and kicked the burning brand off the side of the roof. "Fuck!"
Without a word, Danny moved to the lip of the rooftop and felt the others line up beside him. Reaching into his pouch he fished out his compact field binoculars and peered out towards the crash site.
Upon first inspection it seemed unlikely that anyone could have survived the impact. Skinny tendrils of thick grey smoke rose from the husk of bent metal. The rotors continued to spin lazily, like a child's pinwheel in a gentle breeze. Danny caught sight of a U.S. military insignia painted onto the warped beam of the helicopter's tail end.
"There goes the cavalry," Danny sighed lowering his binoculars.
"Wait," Drake said, "look. What's that?"
Cobb raised the field glasses again. A lone figure crawled out from the wreckage. He was dressed in dark green and beige fatigues complete with flak jacket and ballistic helmet. Danny recognized the weapon gripped in the soldier's hand as an M4 carbine. He also recognized the patch stitched to the shoulder of his uniform.
"Army Rangers," Danny told the others, still looking through the binoculars. "Looks like just one of them...no, wait. There's two...three...four...son of a bitch! There's eight of them down there!"
Below, Danny watched as the soldiers scrambled to organize themselves. Some staggered away from the wreck shaking their heads as they teetered on uncertain legs. Others pulled their comrades to their feet, dragging them clear of the smoldering ruin. One Ranger ran around the body of the chopper and reached in through the shattered cockpit window to help the pilot climb free. Through the binoculars Danny could see the grimace on the man's face as his legs bumped the window frame.
"Those boys have trouble headed their way," Tucker said, nodding down towards the streets.
Danny lowered the binoculars. Drawn by the thunder of the crash, the creatures overrunning Raccoon turned in the direction of the fallen chopper were moving in to investigate. They moved inexorably slowly up the street to where the copter's rotor blades had finally stopped turning. Hideous moans filled the early evening air, as if the monsters were still capable of eager anticipation.
"We've got to get down there," Danny said.
"I'm sorry, what?" Mick asked, cocking his head at an angle and squinting at the marshal commander. "We've got to get down there?"
"We can't just leave them down there." Danny scowled at the surly gumshoe. "Those guys have no idea what's about to hit them."
What if they do though? Whatever this disease is, it's hardly run of the mill. What if...what if it's a spill or something? Some project that leaked from a government lab and now the army's here to try and cover it up...Danny gave himself a mental slap across the chops. Getting just a little bit paranoid there, aren't you Danny Boy? Keep it together.
"No but we sure as hell do!" Mick swept a hand out to encompass the streets below them. "Look at all those fucking things! There must be a hundred of them down there. You've got some crazy ideas, Cobb, but you don't strike me as being suicidal! We're low on ammo and, in case you haven't noticed, we have two unarmed civilians and a man in handcuffs with us!"
"He's got a point, boss." Michelle said, a hand still wrapped around Drake's collar.
That he does. Cobb chewed his lip. Fuck fuck fuck! What do I do?
Danny turned away from the stares of the others to glance back over the edge of the roof. More of the zombies came stumbling up side streets or out of alleyways, joining the horde as it set off in search of its next meal. He could just see the outlines of the Rangers as they scrambled around, trying to secure their downed bird when they should have been running for their lives. The sound of those soulless wails told Danny he was wasting time.
"Gilson, Tucker, you're with me." Danny said as he drew his pistol and snapped the safety off. "Sheesh, Mitch, take the two dicks and get everybody to the high school. We'll catch up with you once we get the Rangers out of there."
"You sure you want to split up, boss?" Marty asked. "I'm no brain or anything but this doesn't exactly seem like the ideal time to be dividing and conquering."
"I'm not planning on conquering anybody, Sheesh. We're going to run in, get those guys the hell out of there, and run out. We'll be back behind you before you even know it. Everyone game?"
Danny received terse nods from everyone - save for Mike Gilson. He matched stares with the deputy and could see the tension in the other man's eyes. The fear swimming behind Gilson's gaze had him wound so tight he looked like a guitar string - ready to snap if plucked the wrong way.
"Gilly?" Danny asked gently. "You with me?"
Gilson didn't move, didn't blink. He just stood there, his jaw clicking as he chewed his own teeth. The soft tapping of the sweat dripping from his face and onto the gravel rooftop was unnerving. Finally, he nodded as well but it was only the slightest tilting of his neck.
Come on, Gilly. Even Sheesh is keeping it together better than you. Don't crack up on me now.
Crackling noises split the momentary silence, drawing eyes back out into the streets. A group of the creatures had already converged on the crash site and judging by the series of flashes sparking in the darkness, the Rangers had discovered there was only one way to deal with them.
"We're wasting time," Danny hissed, "let's go."
Godwin kicked open the roof access door and one by one the survivors filed down into the apartment building. The stairwell leading into the complex was, thankfully, free of any of Raccoon's residents. Danny was the first one through the door into the building's lobby. Peering around the corner he surveyed the corridor.
The hallway was empty. A plain brown carpet ran the length of the passageway to a security desk that stood deserted. Both sets of glass-front double doors that lead into the complex had been shattered by a trashcan that now stood on its side just underneath the directory.
Outside, Danny could hear the distant pop-pop-pop of gunshots but inside there was only silence. Quieter than the inside of a deaf man's ear, like dad would say. Danny nodded to himself and turned back to face the others.
"Alright, sounds like most of those things have cleared out towards the crash site. " He said. "We're not going to get another chance to move through the streets like this so make sure you run like hell for the school. Sheesh, Mitch, radio in as soon as you reach it or if anything changes. Got it?"
"Five by five, boss." Michelle said then jabbed Marty in the shoulder. "You take point, Sheesh."
"With pleasure," the skinny deputy muttered sourly before taking off down the hall. He ducked his head through the broken doorway and checked the street before signaling the others forward. Bert and Reggie moved up first, followed closely by Drake who once again had Michelle leading him by the scruff of the neck.
Danny watched them move out into the night before waving Gilson and Tucker forward. "Let's go."
The three men ran out into the night, weapons at the ready. Their boots beat across the pavement but this paltry noise was immediately swallowed up by the cacophony of repeating gunfire and wet moans.
After a two minute sprint, Danny could see the wreck. Smoke trailed up into the sky from the giant black beast as it lay broken and twisted in a small crater of ruined concrete. The Rangers had suffered the misfortune of crash-landing in the middle of a four-way stop. The street ahead was already filling up with the undead, as was the avenue branching off to the right-hand side. Though Danny was unable to see either of the other paths he would have bet good money that both were choked with the stumbling, lurching creatures as well.
They might be dumb but they aren't deaf. When this thing went down it must have sounded like a dinner bell to these things.
Danny and his deputies approached from behind the crowd. There must have been fifty to sixty of the zombies on the street itself but Danny noticed that the sidewalk running up the right was clear. He led Tucker and Gilson that way, keeping as much distance between them and the creatures as possible.
Gunshots rang out again, a seemingly ceaseless rattle of automatic fire. Unintelligible shouts punctuated unintelligent moans. Screams of either supreme agony or supreme fear - maybe both - ripped the air.
Danny reached the intersection with Gilson and Tucker huffing along. A scene of carnage had been arranged to welcome them.
Four of the Rangers were already down, that Danny could see. Their ravaged bodies lay at various angles in a loose ring around the intersection. Clearly their attempted perimeter had failed to protect them.
Blood pooled around the corpses but little detail was visible - a boot here, an arm there, a helmeted head poking out - as each of the fallen had been swarmed by members of the horde. They sat on the soldiers' chest, knelt by their legs, clawed at their arms. Danny swallowed a mouthful of hot bile as he watched those peeling, melted faces tear at exposed flesh, coming away ringed in crimson and worse.
A fifth Ranger grimaced and swore as he was forced up against the body of the helicopter by a pack of the creatures. They pinned his gun arm against the hull and then two of the things tore a chunk out of his forearm. The man had just enough time to scream before another of the creatures wrapped it's jaws around his throat. Four more of the monsters in tattered clothing converged to join the feast. They blocked the dying Ranger from sight and for that, at least, Danny was thankful.
"Hey!" A voice shouted from behind and the marshall flinched. He hadn't realized he'd been standing still, holding his breath. "Hey! Get your asses over here!"
Danny turned to see a group of men huddled at the north end of the intersection. He counted four, three were dressed in full combat gear and carrying M4s. The fourth wore a dark green flight suit. The soldiers had their backs pressed up against the corner of a drug store. As Danny raced over he saw that he had been right - both roads were swamped with a steady flood of the living dead.
"My name's -"
"I don't give a shit what your name is!" The Ranger's wrinkled face contorted with equal parts rage and horror. "What the fuck are those things!"
Danny looked back over his shoulder. The zombies were converging from every direction, forming a moving barricade of diseased flesh. Gilson and Tucker charged out into the street and opened up, popping heads with their 9mms but doing little to keep the bastards at bay. The horde's front ranks would be on them in less than five minutes.
"You'll have to believe me when I tell you that we have about as much idea as you do...lieutenant." Danny said, reading the bars of rank on the man's shoulder. The name patched stitched onto his flak jacket read BRIGGS.
"Sir!" A baby-faced soldier at Briggs' back slapped him on the shoulder and nodded back towards the chopper. Danny saw the kid's patch read SHIVERS. "Look, it's Duncan!"
The helicopter's spider-webbed windshield shattered as a pair of booted feet kicked it out onto the nose. A second later another man in a flight suit scrambled free. A thick gash had split open his bald scalp, trickling blood down over his flat face. Danny saw that the pilot or co-pilot gripped a .45 calibre pistol in one hand. He fired it indiscriminately into the crowd mobbing his chopper.
"They've got him fucking surrounded," Briggs grunted in a low voice. "Scaggs, get out there and help whoever this fucker is hold these shitheads back. Shivers, you got that thing locked and loaded?"
"You know it, L.T." Shivers raised his M4 and Danny noted the M203 40mm grenade launcher attached.
Eyes widening, Danny bellowed at his men, "Gilson, Tucker! Get back!"
It was too late though. Before either deputy could even process the command, Duncan made a move to reach the roof of his downed bird. His foot slipped as he tried to mount the rotor wheel. He made a wild grab for one of the blades, missed and tumbled over the side, into the eager arms of the mob with a surprised shout. He disappeared amid a frenzy of grasping hands and gnashing mouthes.
"Goddamn it!" Briggs roared, his face dyed a deep red now.
"Anyone seen Hammerstein?" The other Ranger, Scaggs asked between loosing quick bursts into the crowds approaching from the north and west. He was a tall, imposing man with enough stubble that his face could have been used as a piece of sandpaper in a pinch. A thick, white scar bisected his face in a jagged diagonal line.
"No," Briggs spat. "The captain's fucking meat by now."
"Can I implore you gentlemen to get the fuck off this street?" Danny screamed above the sporadic reports from long-arms and pistols alike. "We think there's a civilian shelter set up a few blocks from here if you'd be so kind as to follow us."
Briggs studied Danny for a second, his color gradually fading back to something resembling pink and nodded. "Shivers! Clear this man a path. Sergeant Scaggs, give me a hand with Thorn."
The two men grabbed the arms of the other pilot and slung them around their necks. Only then did Danny notice the vicious wound marring the man's left leg. His pant leg was shredded and most of his calf muscle had been torn away. Blood had pooled around the appendage as he sat on the ground, leaving a dark, sticky stain on the pavement. Fresh drops fell into the crimson puddle as Briggs and Scaggs lifted the man to his feet. Thorn gripped a pistol loosely in one hand but judging by how his eyes rolled frantically inside his skull, Danny doubted he'd be able to use it if he wanted to.
"What happened to him?" The marshall commander asked.
"What do you think?" Briggs snapped. "Those motherfuckers bit him."
Shit.
Did that mean that in a matter of hours - minutes? - Thorn would come down with the same disease that afflicted his attackers? Danny recalled Clarke saying something to that effect. If the man was infected could they risk taking him with them, knowing he could turn on any one of them at any moment?
You're right, Danny. Leave him here so that those things can finish their meal. That's the humanitarian thing to do. Danny shook himself. Just get everyone out of here for now. Worry about the rest when you have to.
"We're going this way," Danny pointed back the way they had come, down a sidewalk now lined with creatures in bloodstained clothing.
Shivers nodded solemnly and stepped forward. He took aim with his carbine and wrapped his finger around the launcher's trigger. Danny could see the young man visibly exhale and heard the soft whump as a 40mm anti-personnel grenade whipped through the air.
The explosive struck the side of a building on the zombies' right. The resulting concussion made Danny flinch as a wave of bricks, glass and concrete swept the creatures out into the street. Smoke rose from the shattered front of the building - what had once been a hardware store. The undead lay in the street now, nothing more than an undecipherable pile of severed limbs and torn flesh.
"Let's go!" Danny took point and charged up the street. As he reached the intersection a pair of pale hands reached out from the corner. He felt the hot breath of sickness brush over his neck sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. He thrust his arm out to the right, felt the barrel of his Sig press against a pale forehead and squeezed the trigger.
Gunfire popped and roared in Danny's ears as he led the way back up the ruined sidewalk, leaping over smoldering debris. Disinterested groans and grunts drifted up from the hungry horde as hot lead ripped through their unfeeling bodies. Every so often Danny was aware of a body falling lifelessly to the asphalt.
Danny whipped his head up to see a zombie wearing the remains of a blood-streaked police uniform come stumble-running up on his right. The badge on its breast still gleamed smartly beneath the street lamps. Black fluid bubbled over the officer's lower lip as it opened its mouth. Danny raised his sidearm and put two through the creature's face.
I just killed a cop. It was a preposterous thought. He had only done what he had to. That police officer wasn't a police officer anymore. It would have killed him just as surely as he had killed it - only in a much more unpleasant fashion. Still...Danny couldn't shake the realization. I just killed a cop!
"Where the fuck are we going?" Briggs bellowed, catching up to Danny as they cleared the sidewalk and made it back out into the open street. Thorn hung limply between the lieutenant and his sergeant. The pilot's face was a study in pain. The bottom half of his leg looked like a raw piece of steak a Rottweiler had been using for a chew toy.
"There's supposed to be a shelter set up a few blocks away," Danny replied. A light drizzle had begun to fall but he barely noticed. "That's where the rest of my team is along with a few other survivors we ran into."
"You know how many more of those assholes are around here?" Scaggs asked, jerking his head back towards the creatures that had promptly turned face to plod after them, following the smell of fresh meat.
"From what I've seen...a whole goddamn city's worth."
"Awesome." Scaggs grunted.
"Mind telling me what the army's doing here?" Danny asked as he led the way up the next street. They moved as fast as they could. Briggs and Scaggs held Thorn's legs off the ground, probably for added mobility as much as to cause their friend as little pain as possible.
"Time for that later," Briggs said. "First we need to get off these fucking streets and away from whatever the hell those things are. We need to get Thorn's leg looked at too."
"Too bad we lost the fucking corpsman back there," Scaggs spat.
"Yeah, well, looks like things are rough all over, buddy."
"That's the understatement of the year," Gilson said, bringing up the rear with Tucker at his side. "We're about as far into FUBAR territory as you can get, gentlemen."
You said it.
Danny panted hard, pushing himself as he wiped the rain out of his eyes. They had made good separation from the creatures on their heels. The bastards might have been dangerous in large groups, with little space to maneouver but once you gained a couple steps on the things they weren't much for distance running. Even so, Danny wanted to get to the school as soon as possible. Who could say how much longer the streets would be clear for?
"Danny, come in," Marty's voice crackled over his radio. "Danny, you there? Hey, Boss, come in already."
"Danny, here," Cobb replied thumbing down the transmit button. "Everything all right, Sheesh?"
"In body, if not mind, Boss. We're all still here. You round up the Green Berets yet?"
"Rangers, Sheesh, and yeah. We got 'em. Some of 'em anyway. What's going on? Did you guys reach the shelter?"
"Oh, we got to the school," Sheesh's laugh sounded distinctly unhappy. "Don't know if I'd really call it a shelter though."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Danny raised an eyebrow but he felt the familiar fingers of dread creeping up his back again.
"Just get here as soon as you can, Boss." Despite the crackling static of the radio, the anxious fright in Sheesh's voice was unmistakable. The fingers tickling Danny's spine began to scratch, digging in cold fingernails. "You'll have to see this to believe it."