As their island salvation came within reach, word spread among the helicopter crews that Roger's condition was deteriorating. Despite the best efforts of Ana and Tom, the wounds he'd suffered during their jungle fueling had become infected. He lay aboard the Herzeleid, floating in and out of consciousness.His screams sometimes echoed throughout the confines of the aircraft,a sideeffect of the delirium he suffered during his conscious moments,caused by the raging fever the infection had brought on. Ana feared he'd soon die if they couldn't bring the fever and infection under control.
Their final day of flying, Briggshad headed out in the Eve of Destruction,accompanied as usual by CJ. They were doing a recon of the island, leaving the othersfew hours behind. If the truth were ever to come out, Briggs did it more to spare the others a few extra hours of listening to the rantings of the sick man than because she really felt the recon work was necessary. When they'd left, Roger was resting peacefully for the first time in nearly 48 hours.
"Cowboy, Masters," Briggs called out over the radio.
"I hope you've got some good news for us," Cowboy said grimly, listening to the sound of Roger'sscreamsechoing fromthe back of the Herzeleid. He was once again ranting about bloody teeth coming for him.
"Well, I do have some," Briggs said cautiously, which caused a cheer from the other two pilots to blast over the headset, momentarily silencing her. She looked at CJ, silently dreading what the reaction to the rest of her news would be, finally returning her attention to the radio. "If ya'll are finished celebrating, let me finish. I've got good news and bad news to report."
"Shit," muttered Masters, the momentary elation he'd felt disappearing in the space of a heartbeat.
"Lay it on us," Cowboy said, mentally bracing himself for the worst.
"It looks as if the power is somehow still on, they don't appear to be linked up to the mainland in that regard. Plus the buildings are all intact," she reported.
"Get to the point Kenny," Cowboy impatiently demanded.
"Okay. It also looks like the ground level of the main building has been barricaded, quite well actually. Oh, and there's about twenty of those things, give or take, crawling all around the outside of it."
"Is there any indication that there's anyone left alive inside?" Masters asked.
"Well, let me ask you something," Briggs replied. "Have you ever known those creatures to just hang around outside a building, pounding and screaming to get inside, when it was just an empty shell? And have you ever know them to congregate in a single location like this if they couldn't smell or sense live, warm, human flesh inside?"
"Point taken," the pilot replied.
"Oh, the people standing on the roof waving their arms around at us kinda makes me think that there are people alive down there too," Briggs added, grinning at CJ.
"They're on the roof," Cowboy remarked, "Do they have a helipad there?"
"Negative, helipad's located out behind the building aways. I don't think the main building's roof could support the weight of little Eve here either, much less the Bad or Herzeleid."
"So we're fucked," groaned Masters despondently. The island that had been their hope for the last week, thata few seconds before had seemed so close now seemedfar from their reach.
"No, not necessarily," Briggs told him. "We're going to have to do a sweep and clean before we can move in with the civilians, but other than that I don't foresee any major problems going ahead with our plans."
"Are you crazy?" demanded the pilot. "You just said that there was twenty of those things down there around the building and now rooftop to land on. Now, stop me if you've heard this one before,but they'll tear us to pieces before we can even climb out of the helicopters, climbing out on the ground and shit."
Ignoring his comment, Briggs asked, "Cowboy, how far out from the mainland are you?"
"Just barely a mile," he responded. "Why?"
"Turn around, find a secure building to land on and wait for us there. I've got a plan."
"Oh, you've got a plan, that's really comforting," Masters said sarcastically.
"Cowboy, I'm counting on you, find us a building, we'll sort the rest out later," Briggs said.
"Affirmative, I just hope you know what you're doing," Cowboy replied. He banked the helicopter into a turn,heading back towards the mainland.
A short hour later, the group had convened, onceagain on a rooftop, high above yet another city of the dead. No matter where they went, every city, every town was starting to look alike, an empty rooftop, a horrible smell, and the din of the dead.
"Briggs, what you have in mind is suicidal!" Fran declared. "We've got to find another place to go. We tried your island, and it's no good, we have no choice but to move on."
"Where?" Briggs asked. "There aren't very many options left open to us right now, clearing the island is worth the risk in my opinion."
"No," insisted Fran. "There are few enough people left in this world without our taking any unnecessary risks like that. There have got to be uninhabited islands out there somewhere for us to go to, we just have to find them. Or else we can try to reach one of those little safe havens you're always secretly whispering about to someone on that computer of yours."
"What about Roger? Are you ready to just give up on him, Fran?" Briggs asked coldly, using whatever leverage she could to steer the others away from Fran's last statement. "And what about you and that baby you're carrying? Think that uninhabited island is going to be very suitable when your time comes?"
"She'd have medical professionals there to help her," Tom said, before Fran could form a response. Stepping forward to stand by the pregnant woman's side, he added, "And we wouldn't exactly be 'writing Roger off' as you so eloquently put it. We can go someone that's deserted, get him off this helicopter, let him actually rest. He could get better."
Briggs sighed, wearily rubbing her hand across her eyes. "Ana, in your considerable medical expertise, is there any chance in hell that Roger's going to just miraculously improve if we just land on an island and let him rest? Or does he need some serious antibiotics to get that infection under control?"
"He's going to need some sort of antibiotic if he's going to have any chance of fighting off that infection, although, he also needs to get off this helicopter and be able to rest," Ana replied.
"I don't see what difference where we go makes," Tom told them. "We don't have the medicine he needs. Short of breaking into a hospital and stealing some I don't see where we're going to suddenly find it."
"Hospitals are no good," Peter said. "The power's been down on the mainland for months, most of your antibiotics need to be refrigerated, the supply would have all gone bad by now."
"You've never heard of a pill?" scoffed Tom.
"Tom, you've treated Roger yourself, he can barely drink water now, there's no way we'd be able to get pills down his throat," rebuffed Ana.
"But the island.."
"The island still has power," Briggs said forcefully. "And an infirmary," she added. "In my opinion, it's the best, if not the only chance to get what we need."
"She's right," agreed Peter. "If there's a chance that raiding that island means we can help out Rog, then that's what we're going to do. I don't even see why we're wasting time arguing about it."
"I still think it's suicide," Fran told them furiously.
"No, not necessarily," Michael said quietly. "I think she's got a decent plan. Maybe we could change a thing or two, but I think we can pull it off."
Fran opened her mouth to argue once more, but Briggs ignored her, speaking loudly herself instead.
"I know that probably most of you consider this to be too risky to attempt," she said. "And I understand that some of you are afraid to go in on thesweep and clean." She looked around at the assembled group that stood before her, pausing for a long moment in her speech as she did so. "I understand, and that's why I'm making this mission fully volunteer. Masters, I'm going to ask you to stay behind with Roger, Fran, the kids and whoever else. If we haven't reported back to you by morning, take the Stallion and make a run for it. If I'm gone, maybe Scarecrow will leave you all in peace."
Cowboy moved to stand behind his sister. "You know I'm in it with you to the end," he said. CJ joined them, along with Marshall, Henry, Walker, Jones, Cook and Steele.
"You don't think you're going anywhere without me do you Bro?" Kenneth asked his brother, moving to join the others.
"Knew you wouldn't let me down," grinned Henry. As they stood together watching, Michael, Terry, Peter and Sanchez also volunteered to join the strike team.
"Terry?" Nicole squeaked out.
"It's something I have to do Nicole," he said softly.
"I'm coming with you too," Ana said, stepping forward.
"No, Ana, you don't need to," Michael said quickly.
"He's right Ana," Briggs agreed. "You'd be better off staying here and monitoring Roger."
"Tom can do that, he doesn't believe in your mission afterall, I do. Besides, you never know when you're going to find some need for medical assistance," she tried to smile as she said it.
"Okay then, you're in. And this is our strike team," Briggs said, glancing around, more than a little surprised as shetook in thenumber of group members that had willing volunteered. "Now that you've volunteered though, here's what we're gonna try and pull off."
It was nearly two hours later that the two helicopters moved away from the rooftop. Fran, Monica, and Nicole watched as they moved off on the horizon. "Their plan is going to work, right?" Nicole asked of no one in particular.
"Yea kid, we'll be soaking up the sun on a nice warm beach by tomorrow," Monica replied, no trace of her former hostility towards the teen in evidence. "Maybe we can even get Terry and Walker to be our beach butlers for us."
"Be realistic Monica," Fran said in disgust. "They're never coming back," she muttered fatalistically while she turned and stomped back to where Tom sat with Roger.
Nicole turned her ashen face towards Monica, "Tell me the truth Monica, do you really believe that they're going to make it? That they'll come back to us?"
"As much as I hate to admit it, Briggs knows what she's doing. I think they could pull it off," Monica replied. "You can't take everything Fran says too seriously, she's on an emotional hormone rollercoaster ride right now."
"Then you think they'll come back?" Nicole asked again, desperate for reassurance.
"Maybe not all of them," Monica admitted sadly, "but they will be back for us."
On board the helicopters, Briggs prepared the teams with the last minute details.
"Team One will rappel down to one of the ships in the marina, something small and fast with no room for one of those ghouls to be hiding. We'll move directly to the docks in front of the main building of the resort. Our movable feast should attract some of the zombies away from the building, that's when Team Two in Eve will make a strafing run, chop as many of those fuckers to pieces as they can. While they're doing that, Marshall will circle around with Team Three, dropping Sanchez, CJ and Steele onto the roof of the building. Those three are going to be providing sniper fire from the rooftop, and therefore cover fire for Teams One and Four to both move in from the beach and take out the last of them. Team Four will be the remainder of the crew from the Blackhawk, Marshall will touch down for a quick dust off. Any questions?"
"Yea, I got one," Cook called out. "What the fuck are we gonna do if we get down there and find out our boat ain't got any gas?"
"Go on foot until we find one that does," Briggs replied.
"With them things crawling around?" he asked again.
"You could always make a swim for it," Terry called out. "Use the water as a deterrent."
"No, that won't work," Briggs said. "As I understand it, bodies of water don't keep those things at bay any longer, they just walk right out into it."
"Understand it from where?" asked Kenneth.
"I have my sources," Briggs told him vaguely. "The point is, if we don't find a boat the first shot, we've got to haul ass somewhere secure enough that the Blackhawk can pick us up from."
"Where?" Cook asked again, looking down below them. "This whole coastline is swarming with them, they following the noise of our birds."
"There," Briggs said, pointing below. "Looks like a private dock, gated, little tourist rental place no doubt."
"I don't see anything on the dock by the boats, unless their on board them," conceded Cook.
"No, look," Michael said, staring through some field glasses. "There are some moving outside of the gate."
"I bet the owner locked the place down to keep people from stealing his boats and heading out to sea on them," Briggs told them, hoping it would reassure her team. They came abreast of the dock, which appeared to have several boats tied alongside it yet. Briggs, Cowboy, Jones and Cook readied themselves for the descent. With a last look around at the others, Briggs smiled. "We'll see you on the beach," she told them before dropping from sight.