Walker watched the zombies still staggering onto the blackened ruins of the post. Their numbers had visibly thinned over the weeks since that last flight out before the fall. He glanced around at his companions briefly, trying to gauge their thoughts. Cowboy was piloting the Blackhawk, Jones sat beside him in the co-pilot seat despite his inability to actually fly the thing. The rest of the group were in the rear with him, looking calm and relaxed, much to his amazement. Cowboy and Briggs were talking over the headsets they wore, although he couldn't make out what was being said over the noise of the rotors, he assumed they were discussing their plan of attack.
Glancing below once more, Walker saw that they were rapidly approaching the post's airfield and his stomach clenched in fear. There was no way he wanted to land down there and leave the safety of the helicopter, not with all of those things lingering in wait for a meal down there. The helipads and hangers came into view, still crawling with zombies winding their way between abandoned and ruined helicopters and humvees. He swallowed hard, silently praying that they'd just turn around and head back to the mall now that they'd seen what was below. Briggs and Walker were still talking, and the rest of them still appeared relaxed, as if they were going for a boring Sunday drive rather than on this suicide mission. Lost in these thoughts, he almost didn't notice that the helicopter was starting to bank slightly to the southeast, moving away from the helipad.
"Hey, where are we going?" Walker hollered over the rotors when he finally noticed the change in course. He hoped it meant they were going to return to the mall.
Sanchez looked at him and called back, "Alternate plans Junior, just sit back and enjoy the ride."
Momentarily stunned with the realization that they weren't returning to the mall or landing at Pastor, Walker sat, watching the scenery pass by beneath them as he tried to grasp what was happening. They were moving out over forested countryside now, the outermost sector of the post where field exercises were often conducted. Amazingly, the clearings they passed over appeared devoid of the zombies, although they could have remained camouflaged beneath the foliage of the trees. At least 45 minutes later they finally came upon another city, or at least the remains of one. It was smaller than Everett, but looked like a war zone just the same. Turning slightly westerly they headed towards the city's large, three story high school where a lone, massive CH-53 Stallion helicopter sat. His first feelings upon the sight of the helicopter was relief, automatically assuming that there were more survivors here, but then he noticed how devoid of life the rooftop seemed. They began to descend, going in for a landing on top of the roof themselves.
"What the hell is that?" he called out, hoping to get some answers.
As they touched down, Briggs and the others began climbing from the Blackhawk as Cowboy shut it down. Walker scrambled after the others, calling out again, "Did you hear me? I said what the hell is this?"
Sanchez smiled at him, sarcastically replying, "That, that's a helicopter, some people use them for flying in."
"Can it Sanchez," Briggs ordered. "Walker, stay with the Blackhawk, Jones, Cook, baby-sit Walker."
"Baby-sit! What the fuck is going on Sarge?" Walker demanded.
"Walker my friend, there are some things in life that you're better off not knowing about until I'm good and ready to tell you about them. This is one of them. Now then, you can argue with me and piss me off so I slit your throat or you can follow orders. Your choice," Briggs said coolly before walking towards the Stallion helicopter.
"She can't do that..." Walker stammered.
Cook patted him on the back as he walked by him and said, "Walker my man, that woman can pretty much do any damn thing she wants at this point, and quite frankly, we're going to let her as long as she can prove to us that what she's doing will keep us alive." Jones nodded his head, murmuring his agreement.
Briggs and Sanchez climbed on board the Stallion, seeing food, arms and medical supplies,
as well as a satellite communications up-link stowed away there. Smiling Briggs said, "Looks like Christmas came early this year and Santa got me exactly what I asked for."
"Santa?" Sanchez inquired.
"Okay, so maybe it wasn't Santa," she grinned, "the important thing is that it's here, and that means my last transmission before we got the hell off the Island went through."
Carefully, Briggs hauled the communications equipment to the door of the Stallion. She called out, "Cowboy, get this set-up, see if you can get a link with Scarecrow." As Cowboy went to work with the up-link, Briggs returned to the supplies, checking through the medical ones.
Sanchez frown as he watched her. "Forceps, epidural, you planning on giving birth Briggs?"
"They're for the pregnant chick back at the mall, I figure our little resident nurse can make use of that stuff if we have to keep them around long term. From the looks of her she's gotta be pushing five months along or better, if we don't get some good news soon we might be stuck with her right up until she delivers."
"Briggs! We've got the link established," Cowboy called through the doorway. She hurried outside, followed by Sanchez.
Smiling she looked at the face staring back at her from the laptop computer monitor and said, "Damn Scarecrow, I never thought I'd be happy to look at your ugly mug."
"The feelings mutual. What's your status?" The man on the monitor asked.
"Cowboy, Sanchez, how about some privacy here?" she asked. The two men exchanged looks before heading off to join the others by the Blackhawk. Turning back to the monitor she finally replied, "The mark's been terminated, all evidence destroyed."
"Do the others suspect anything?"
"Nah, as long as you remember to call me Briggs we should be golden. Cowboy and I have been laying our cover stories on pretty thick. Any news on Dillon?"
"He's holed up with the President and whatever cabinet members we were able to get evacuated before the White House fell. We've got them all on naval vessels anchored just off from New Berne Island. Conveniently the 2nd Marine Expeditionary Unit was in the middle of training exercises there when the shit hit the fan, they're on baby-sitting detail for the President and the cabinet members."
"2nd MEU, that's where they stuck you isn't it? And are those Lieutenant's bars I see Scarecrow?" she chided him, almost playfully.
"You're an evil bitch," he said and smiled just as Cowboy walked up behind Briggs again.
"I think we're gonna have a serious problem with Junior talking to the others," he said without preamble.
"We'll deal with it later Cowboy. Right now, we've got other business that takes priority. What's the latest word from Dillon, Scarecrow?" Briggs asked. "Any changes in the directive?"
"No, he still wants you to move your people back to the east, the closer you can get to us the better."
"That doesn't help our supply situation, even with your little gift basket here we're going to need food, fuel and probably more weapons again."
"There're maps in with the supplies on the Stallion marking possible fuel depots all through the Midwest and along the east coast. I can't guarantee that you'll be able to get all your birds in and fueled without any problems, but at least you aren't out there flying completely blind. You might want to think about dropping some of the Blackhawks, with the Stallion you really don't need any of them, but that's really your call. Stay in contact as much as possible, and I'll let you know if there's any changes. I'll see if we can work something out for your arms situation, food too, but you may be on your own for a while there," Scarecrow told her.
Briggs ended the transmission and Cowboy began packing up the equipment. As he worked he asked, "So what are we going to do about Walker? If he starts talking to the rest of them about what went on here, we could be fucked."
Briggs didn't even hesitate before saying, "We lie. Tell them you picked up a call over the radio with co-ordinates to this location. We were the only ones with the headsets on, so it'd be pretty hard for him to dispute whether or not it really happened."
"In case you forgot Kenny, you threatened to slit the kid's throat," he reminded her.
"I didn't threaten him, I warned him that he was pissing me off and that there would be consequences for his actions. Maybe not in so many words, but I think I got my point across," she declared.
"But why didn't you want him going near the helicopter? You know they'll ask."
"Jesus Cowboy, you act like I've never done this before. We weren't sure if this was a set-up, something put together by people affiliated with Gull Island. I didn't need an inexperienced kid accidentally setting off any booby traps that might have been left by these unknown persons."
"That could work Kenny, but you definitely aren't going to win any personality or popularity contests with these guys."
"Fuck them. They're alive and I'm keeping them that way, what more could they want?"