The Last Shift
Private Hank Shaw 2nd class leaned over the monitor, rubbing his eyes for the 100th plus time since his shift began almost 15 hours ago. His "shift", what a joke. He was the last one left,… almost, and by the look of the readouts on his console his units preciously guarded ordinance was about to write itself off. 5027-B alert in progress.
Three multi-warhead ICB missiles sat snug in their launch bays at various locations within a 3 mile radius of the command center Shaw now occupied. The original 12 person crew had taken their duties of care and maintenance of the facility very seriously, but there are some situations and protocols that are even beyond those of the highly trained silo crew especially when their numbers are diminished to almost 1.
When Hank's shift had first started it had been with the hope that the number would be two again, but he refused to become too confident lieutenant Jan Oaks would recover from the head wound which had put her in the bases small infirmary for almost a week. There she had drifted in and out of consciousness, able to take little water and no solid food.
She should have been medivacted immediately after the pressure line she had been working on ruptured sending her flying to the adjacent wall. While receiving numerous bruises and cuts from the impact with the silo wall and its adornment of pipes and various metal fixtures so necessary for the health and welfare of nuclear weaponry, a single head gash had caused her immobility, and it had become a real bad kind of world to be bed ridden.
They had lost contact with central command weeks ago and all local and state communications were down as well. Oaks was going no where for now. On the bright side, she was still alive and relatively safe which was a lot more then he could say for about 6 billion other folks.
Looking down at his watch, more from habit than need since there were a number of time sources in the control room including the screen he had been so glued to. It was almost time for him to check on the failing officer, so it was also almost time to commit the unthinkable. He was about to abandon his post, actually it was the third time he was about to commit this court marshalable offense since his shift started.
A court marshal, that would be great thought Shaw. That would mean the center had held, rules and discipline maintained and order prevailed , but some how he just didn't think that was going to happen. It was a brave new world, the rules, they hadn't changed so much as disintegrated all together.
Hank lingered at the monitors for a few more moments. Musing to himself the old adage, the two certainties in life were death and taxes. Even that rule had been thrown out. The deceased weren't staying dead and they certainly weren't paying taxes.
One screen that he had monitored almost 6 hours without a break was the perimeter defense sensors that unbeknownst to the general public extended all the way to the local town of Sallsby, almost 10 miles away. At the beginning of the privates shift two of the three remaining able members of his unit, lieutenant Norman Green and Private Stan Riles tried to reach Sallsby in hopes of finding medical supplies, particularly IV's for the failing lieutenant. Finding and rescuing survivors was also a consideration of the impromptu mission.
Green had been acting commander since the emergency had started when half the unit had been ordered back to central command, He seemed capable enough. Riles usually worked a shift opposite Shaw so neither man saw much of the other but both got along on the brief occasions they were together.
Their journey had gone well right up to the 3rd hour into their mission. The small hospital had been completely abandoned by the living and otherwise and they had easily obtained the needed IV's as well as an assortment of antibiotics and pain killers. But soon after, their journey went horrible wrong. Just as they were leaving the outskirts of the town and in full radio contact their, report was interrupted by the sounds of skidding, quick orders involving multiple targets, gun fire, screams and silence.
Shaw sat there stunned, starring at the now motionless dot on the screen just yards away from one of the many outer perimeter sensors that covertly littered the town. For several hours the Private tried to reestablish radio contact but it was no use. After checking on Oaks, almost grateful for her condition of near catatonic sleep, so he would not need to relay the desperate drama that was unfolding around them, he resumed his vigil at the monitors. Nothing changed, at first.
After several hours into his extended shift a neighboring console beeped an alert. This screen was a monitor of vital stats from the silos themselves as well as the payloads they housed. And that's when Shaw noticed the presence of a new indicator flashing on his terminal.
Along with a number of the typical indicators Shaw was used to seeing there was an additional message in yellow at the bottom of the customarily green second column.:
5027-B alert in progress.
This had a ring of familiarity to it but he couldn't quite place it. Cursoring down to the alert on the screen. He typed:
Enhancement 5027-B
And was rewarded with the following:
General command level status inspection update 5027-B required in 12 hours in s4972-2 or full silo and warhead auto shutdown shall commence.
Basically silo number 2 was going to shutdown in 12 hours and there was nothing anyone could do about it. In fact Shaw was fairly certain silo's 1 and 3 would soon follow. There were certain inspection and update procedures done from outside, by specialized crews, and they were most likely dead along with the rest of Central Command.
Sure enough from returning from his second check up on Oaks there were similar indicators under the 1st and 3rd columns. In just over 12 hours he was going to be obsolete. He was essentially done here. For the next few hours he tried in vane to contact the ill fated drug run, hoping that at least one of the two soldiers had been able to get out of there alive. For a while the town sensors were alive with activity but then all was still.
As Shaw was about to brew his second pot of coffee an inner perimeter sensor alarm went off and then another followed by a third. Hands slightly shaking the private activated the surveillance cameras in that area. At least a hundred slow shambling figures could be seen ambling their way towards the gates that surrounded Shaw's fortress of solitude.
Staring transfixed at the monitors as figure after figure reached the ten foot high chain linked fence. A women in a torn and stained house coat wearing a single shoe and several curlers dangling from her hair was one of the first to reach the front gate, what appeared to be a mechanic with almost spotless overalls but missing half his face came up from her left. Up from her right came what was left of Commander Green. After that Shaw stopped focusing on the details of the growing crowd which was now pawing at the fence in hopes of finding some route to the prey they somehow knew lay beyond.
This was the closest he had come to the living dead since the disaster had started. Shaw had seen broadcasts on TV in the rec room during the first few days but they had been quickly over run and gone off air weeks ago. The up close and personal view was almost mesmerizing, so much so he failed to hear the soft shuffling sound in the outer hallway accompanied by a dragging glass IV bottle.
The command center, or fire room they liked to call was one of the most secure rooms in the complex. The walls were steel reinforced concrete, the door almost a foot thick of some dense steel alloy with not two but three steel dead bolt, electronically operated locks on the top, bottom and side. It reminded Shaw of something that belonged on a submarine.
The problem was with their numbers dwindling, the customary protocol of two men in and two men out had been abandoned and Shaw did not want to be on the wrong side of the door if the electricity failed. A sturdy plastic chair from the rec room served to keep the door open and the alarms were easily squelched at utility console. Millions of dollars of security bypassed by what looked like a cheap piece of patio furniture. This was also a court marshal offense but Shaw seemed unconcerned.
At this point it may have been possible for Shaw to actually hear sounds from the hallway which would have been other wise lost behind steel and concrete but Shaw was in a trance. More and more dead gathered at the fence filling almost the entire east section and many of the video screens in the room dedicated themselves to showing their strange sluggish, probing behavior.
How are they moving, How did they know they were here? What button could he push to make this go away? Shaw found himself starting to loose it a bit and decided he had to get a grip, time for a break, time to check on Oaks. At that moment a slight breeze tickled the hairs on his neck. Shaw jumped just as a figure in a hospital gown slumped over the plastic chair at the door and started flailing around caught between the door and chair.
Oaks had come to him. She must be delirious he thought. He instinctively bent over the fallen women thinking to help her to her feet. Face flat on the floor, hidden under a mop of shoulder length dirty blonde hair gave little indication of the lieutenant's mood. Suddenly snarls erupted when Shaw grabbed her cold arm, startling the private into a hasty retreat backwards tripping on his own cushioned, wheeled chair, hitting his head and shoulder on the console.
He laid on his right side slightly dazed. The fall had not been hard but under the present circumstances could still be very fatal. Oaks was gone and in her place was a pale faced, milky eyed feral creature. All remnant of the once friendly, mildly attractive young women he had worked with for almost 6 months was gone.
Having finally tossed aside the flimsy plastic chair she had tripped over, the former coworker launched herself at Shaw while still on it's hands and knees. So eager to have at the young, private snapping and snarling all the while. The private on the other hand had regained enough of his senses and grasp of the situation to focus on his last line of defense, his hold out pistol. A standard issue Sauer 9mm which unfortunately was pinned under his hip. There was no time, a single bite would be all that was needed to end the privates fledgling career. While still fumbling for the side arm the Oaks thing sprang.
The creatures attempts at propelling itself at the near helpless target ended abruptly making no head way at all. With the obstruction removed, the heavy fire room door it had proceeded to close as designed, this time only being impeded by a soft fleshy foot that was the only remainder the Oaks monster had not managed to clear. Normally the ensuing broken bones and skin would have been excruciating, the former officer seemed unaware.
After about 10 seconds of squirming around, Shaw managed to remove his side arm and release the safety while still remaining out of reach of the creature that reminded Shaw less and less of his former friend. Raising it now to almost within a foot of his target, clouded white eyes still fixed on it's would be prey, jaws still futilely snapping just beyond the barrel, Shaw uttered a brief apology and fired.
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