Author's Note: This is my second fan fic in general, and my first DotD in particular. The main character, Arkady Emmerson, is the senior NCO of SEAL Team Four, stationed at Fort Pastor. This first chapter is just to establish him, and his relationship to our favorite mall rats.
Okay, be honest. Does this totally suck, or does it have a future?
Latter Day Paladin
Master Chief Arkady Emmerson stood erect in the gun turret of the command Humvee, ignoring the smokey haze that hung over the highway.
His hindbrain catalogued his surroundings with an analytical skill possessed by few others than this 14 year veteran of the US Navy SEALS. He commanded Calvary Troop Sierra 2-5, on a search and rescue mission into the administrative district of Everett, Wisconsin. The General wanted them to extract the mayor, who had been too stupid to realize that these were not normal riots. She had insisted on staying in her "Crisis Management Center", not realizing that the situation had moved beyond the level of "containment". She failed to understand that it was fight or die time.
A total of three humvees and fourteen personnel were at his disposal. Said hummers were armed with two 50 calibers and one Bravo-240 heavy machine gun, respectively. The vehicles were manned by eleven members of the local National Guard Armored Calvary Squadron, with a leavening of Arkady's three SEALS. Baker, Salvatore, and Pals.
The trio of hummers raced down the highway, hauling ass through the disturbingly unlikely battlefield of suburban Wisconsin. And the enemy was fucking everywhere. Whatever they were, they were horrifying, hyper-aggressive, and damn near ubiquitous. Oh, and they appeared to be undead.
Arkady grinned ferally to himself, no worse than Mogadishu, he thought. The combat centers of his brain had nearly completely taken over, leaving only a sliver of the husband to Lizzy and friend to his men, to restrain himself. He stiffened as they neared a cluster of buildings.
He swung the 50.cal to the right, tracking on a convenience store that showed signs of activity. He noted, or rather his training noted, that said activity was not entirely hostile, but some of the occupants appeared to be human in nature...
Arkady mentally stopped himself, his stolid expression (his "mission face" as his wife Lizzy called it), broke and turned into one of self-chastisement. He looked closer at the people, people damnitt, in the corner gas station. The group of seven, no eight, civilianshuddled behind the protective glass of the clerk's booth, seeking shelter from twelve assailants.
He forced himself to look at them as more than just entities, threats or non-threats, assets or liabilities. A black man with a nine-millimeter, stood protectively between the dozen or so ghouls and a pregnant woman. His wife, perhaps? A tall, rakish guy behind them, wearing a rumpled white shirt and clutching a blue tire iron. Who was he? Husband? Father?
An American. Hell, a Fin for all he knewAnd the others that cowered behind the glass. The Asian man, doubtless the clerk. A middle aged couple that clung to each other in terror. Two Goth-looking teenagers that seemed even more frightened. Americans he had made an oath to his country to defend. Perhaps, other nationalities, but still innocent people that he had made an oath to God to defend.
Again, he grinned ferally. But there was no blind savagery in his eyes. Only the light of righteous battle.
Fuck the mission. He set his radio to the troop frequency, said a quick prayer, and keyed his throat mike."Sierra 2-5, Sierra 2-5. Dismount, mass fire on my command! Come on boys, let's keep 'em off the civvies!"
The hummers screeched to a stop, and the three SEALS instantly piled out and formed a firing line. The National Guardsmen, somewhat more hesitant, still got online. Arkady trained his Ma-Deuce on the reanimate furthest away from the civilians. Per their training, the other 50 cal. and the B-240 chose similar targets. The line of SEALS and guardsmen drew beads on the figures nearer to the civilians.
Arkady keyed his throat mike again. "Troopmass fire!"
There was a fusillade ofaccurate automatic weapons fire. The appropriate bodies were shredded by heavy weapons fire, while some's heads exploded from single rifle shots. It was over within five seconds.
"Cease fire! Salvatore, Baker, advance and clear! I'm right behind you! Pals, get up here and man my weapon."He pulled himself out of the turret and hopped to the street, swinging his P90 up to his shoulder.The three man team charged across the street, then the parking lot, and finally crashed through the shattered door. They found no live hostiles.
Salvatore came back from clearing the back rooms. "All clear, boss." Arkady turned to deal with the civilians. He was greeted by the tall guy. Despite obvious, and understandable, anxiety, his voice was steady and purposeful. "Thanks for that." They shook hands. The civilian had a strong grip.
Arkady looked into the man's dark eyes and was glad he had made this little stop.He also shook hands with the black man and nodded pleasantly at the pregnant woman that held his hand.
Arkady knew those things flocked to sound, and these people had to get out of there, fast.
"Wish I could stay and chat, wish I could help you people more." He forked his thumb over his shoulder"Fort Pastor is that way. Stay off the roads, stick to alleys and backyards. Keep together."
The SEAL turned to the black man. He nodded to the pregnant woman who still clung to him. "Take care of her, man." Arkady pulled a magazine of nine-millimeter ammunition off his vest and handed it to him.
"Conserve your ammo, and aim for the– " He was interrupted by a thunderous explosion. Arkady whipped his head around to Baker, who was already headed outside to take a look.
"Gas station went up about a half mile down the road, Chief!"
Arkady bolted out the doorhis SEALS on either side,shouting over his shoulder. "Get to Fort Pastor!"
Arkady mounted back up on the command hummer, behind the Ma Deuce. He keyed the troop push. "Let's go!" They took off down the highway, deeper into town, back on mission. He was flush with victory. Adrenaline mixed with a spiritual high, that seemed undaunted by the flaming wreck of a town they were headed towards.
A small white car approached from across the median.
Arkady looked inside, to see a little blood smeared blond, driving down the road with unseeing eyes. That snapped him out of his reverie because he realized that his wife could be in the same condition, or, God forbid, worse. Lizzy, God protect you, sweetheart.
He said a prayer for the little blond too.