Chapter Three: Meet Tex
Mercy City Suburb of Chicago
Oct. 25th 2342 Hours 11:42 PM
Music: Fell on Black Days by Sound garden
"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot." Lawing said as he stared at the officer. The rest of the squad was staring at her quizzically as well, which only increased the woman's ire.
"What you just say?" she asked hotly, her eyebrows going in opposite directions, one cocked up with the other lowered in anger. Her answer came not from Lawing, however, but from the normally silent Yakob.
"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. It's the military phonetic alphabet for sounding things out, like an abbreviation." Yakob said coolly, completing the longest sentence the men had ever heard him utter.
"What the fuck does it mean? Stop talking in riddles." She demanded hotly, her hand already moving back over toward her trusty riot shield.
"You already know." Jenkins said cryptically, drawing imaginary letters in the air with his fingers. The female officer just shook her head in confusion.
"Huh?" Did I join up with a bunch of whackos? She wondered idly to herself.
"Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. W.T.F, figure it out." Curtis said cynically, his gas mask on backwards for comic effect. The flawless black surface of the reversed mask reflected the woman's irritated visage well.
"Shut up, pervert." She retorted with an angry swipe at his head. Surprisingly, Curtis dodged it smoothly, even though his eyes were covered.
"I'm not a pervert!" Eric yelled through the material, his indignant tone muffled by gas-proof material. She growled and followed up with a haymaker, one he did not dodge. Her fist crashed into his masked face and sent him to the ground, hard.
"Look lady, you shouldn't have hit him. He's an idiot; he cracks jokes. That's what he does. Sorry if it offended you." Lawing said neutrally, trying to diffuse a potentially deadly situation. He held his hands up in front of him in a disarming manner.
"I hate perverts. So who are you?" she asked, looking at them all curiously.
"First Lieutenant Lawing. First Platoon, Alpha Company, First Battalion, 131st Infantry."
"Warrant Officer Curtis. Second Platoon, Alpha Company First Battalion, 131st Infantry."
"Staff Sergeant Jenkins. First Platoon, Alpha Company, First Battalion, 131st Infantry."
"Corporal Yakob. Charlie Company, Delta Force."
"Bravo Sierra, Corporal." Curtis said loudly, punching the corporal in the shoulder playfully.
"What?" She asked.
"Bull shit." Jenkins explained behind an obscuring hand, which was pointless because his mask hid his face. The officer gritted her teeth and glared at the two goofing army morons.
"Will you please stop messing around, you idiots!" she roared, startling Curtis and Yakob out of their banter.
"Alright, we will. On one condition: I didn't catch your name earlier," Lawing said stiffly, Army regulations creeping into the conversation. The brunette cocked an eyebrow and snorted, before replying curtly.
"Because I couldn't get a word in edge wise. The name's Sergeant Bethany Long. But everyone calls me Tex."
"Tex?" Curtis asked incredulously, his now correct gas mask bobbing up and down as he examined her profile in an exaggerated fashion. She made a fist and shook it at him, but he just waved it off.
"I was born in Texas, but you can't tell anymore unless you drink the tea I make." Tex said offhandedly, glaring holes through Curtis' soul as she explained. He feigned terror, cowering behind Jenkins and visibly shaking. The staff sergeant was not amused.
"Accent faded." Lawing said, and he nodded knowingly.
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"I used to have an Alabama one, but it went out when I started commanding."
"So, what where you doing when you rescued me?" Tex said casually, changing the subject.
"Heading to the base of the Fourth Brigade."
"Mind if I tag along?" She asked sweetly, making Curtis burst out in stifled laughter.
"Not really, but you had better keep up and listen to orders." Lawing warned. He had little patience for slackers, Curtis aside.
"Alright, lieu."
"If your gonna call me a weird name, call me Jeff."
Tex looked at the group and nodded as they moved back towards the fire escape. The business was concluded, and something in the air felt different. The swap from 'me and them' to 'us' was almost tangible, Tex thought to herself as she watched Curtis and Jenkins bowed in exaggerated grace as Lawing passed. Maybe this won't be TOO bad, she thought to herself.
The group started down the metal staircase, their boots clanging on the metal as they descended. The escape at the bottom swung down as Jenkins delivered a hard kick to the top of it. Lawing hit the ground first, his M-4 up and at the ready as the rest came down. They continued down the alley way, skirting around the two mounds of dead infected, a by-product of their frantic retreat to the roof. A foul stench hung in the air, and the bodies were just beginning to decompose.
"How are we going to get to your base?" Tex asked hesitantly, her riot shield at the ready in case she had to bash a zombie. Or Curtis.
"Same we always have: walking. We're going to walk along the tram line towards base." Lawing explained, pointing along the street as he did so.
The streets where clear of infected. The group walked slowly, keeping a eye out for any zombies that had come late to the party. It wouldn't do to alert another horde. The empty street was dark; most of the street lights where malfunctioning or destroyed. Several parked cars had their gas flaps open and their tanks open to the air. Someone had actually possessed the presence of mind to siphon gas from them.
The group moved through a side alley onto the main highway, into the wide open space as the sky twinkled with stars. They passed cars both stopped and crashed as they walked down the off ramp of the highway onto another portion of the road. The group stepped on random discard garbage that had blown onto the road way as the tram line came into view.
"We're walking how far along this thing?" Tex asked incredulously. The road seemed to stretch for miles, something she didn't feel like legging if she could help it.
"Just shy under four miles." Curtis replied with an invisible grin, one that was tangible through his voice.
"Four miles!" Tex screeched in alarm, before quickly covering her mouth. Lawing whirled on her and slapped his hand over hers.
"Shut up! We don't need unwanted attention, Tex." Lawing whispered harshly, slowly removing his hand as she nodded.
The group walked closer to the tracks and the chain link fence that surrounded it. Lawing let his rifle hand on its sling and dug around in his vest before pulled out his trusty wire cutters. He stepped toward the fence and went to work on the metal boundary while his team kept watch. After a few seconds, roughly four square feet of chain link rustled to the ground. Yakob turned around and went through first, followed by Jenkins and Curtis. Tex ducked under right behind them as Lawing kept watch. When she was through, Lawing slinked through the hole and kept moving as the group fell in behind him. The tracks were clear of debris as the five people moved closer to their target.
An abandoned station sat silently ahead of them, and still there were no infected in sight. Lawing motioned for them to move forward with a hand signal, and they all silently approached the building. The brown wood building had no windows, and no light exhumed from its dilapidated profile. Lawing reached the patio first, his combat boots thudding loudly on the wooden planks. Several other thuds followed as the rest of the team filled in behind him. Together, Lawing and his followers turned the corner, only to stop and gape in disbelief.
A crashed tram blocked the entire tunnel entrance. Its cherry red paint job was interrupted here and there by the gaping holes in its sides, wounding the large vehicle. There were quite a few corpses lying around the site, though none of them had seen fit to stand back up and attempt to eat anyone.
"Well crap." Lawing said "Back to the station, I guess, and we'll go around." the group turned around and headed back the way they came.
"You could tell which line it was. I could have told you it was blocked by a wreck before the outbreak." Curtis said snidely.
"Thanks for the information now." Lawing said as anger rose inside him. "We didn't know which line it was to begin with it just said the West Tram Line on the map nothing else, like blue route or red route."
Lawing stormed towards the station angrily, leaving the other standing still. Tex looked at the disappearing man with confusion. The others rubbed the back of their heads sheepishly, and she turned to Curtis.
"What's his problem?" Curtis sighed heavily and scratched his leg idly.
"He has been like that since the infection broke out. He deals with things with violence and anger. He should calm down when he kills something." Curtis said in regards to his friend's volatile temper.
"Why?" She asked, her curiosity piqued. Curtis was all of a sudden being serious, and she wanted to take advantage of that for as long as possible.
"We all deal with things differently. Me, I crack jokes. Yakob has been quiet to a stupid extent, and Jenkins has mellowed out and is focusing on his job. I think he believes that if he had that attitude at the start he wouldn't have lost almost all of his men. He blames himself for their deaths and wishes to atone for his mistakes. The same with the L.T." Curtis explained quietly. His eyes lowered slightly as he thought about his dead friends and teammates. The losses had hit them all hard, especially at night. The screams...
"Since when did you learn so much about people?" Tex asked Curtis, shaking him out of his detrimental musings.
"I've always been good at the why in things, not the how. It's easy to wonder on the reason, not the means." Curtis replied curtly. His demeanor sank into mournful silence, and Tex could see her chance at getting information slipping away with his smile.
"So why are you in the army then you could make a fortune being a shrink?" She prodded, hoping to keep him open.
"The pay was the only reason I went in. Easy money to be a soldier. Now, I guess it's for survival." He replied, then started fiddling with his gas mask again.
Tex nodded as they caught up with Lawing at the station. The Lieutenant heaved himself onto the ledge and stood up quickly, scanning for any unwelcome visitors. Surprisingly, the station had no signs of infected recently. In fact, it seemed that the tram station had been abandoned since before the outbreak. Lawing turned and beckoned to his compatriots, and together they all ascended to the main platform. They walked slowly towards the stairs that lead to the overpass. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they all groaned at the sight of a locked gate blocking their path.
"Ah, come on." Curtis griped as he glared at the locked gate, then turned and threw his hands into the air. Lawing walked forward and gripped the thick padlock, rolling it in his hands. The actual locking mechanism was encased in steel, and the looped bar that held the door locked appeared to be titanium. No chance cutting this, Lawing thought to himself with a sigh. He turned back to the team and crossed his arms. The others frowned at his expression, save Curtis. Lawing glanced behind Deano and Tex to see the warrant officer angrily kicking an empty trash bin across the train platform, screaming obscenities at the poor can the entire time. The Lieutenant sighed and shook his head.
"Find the key to this lock or Dean will have to blow it. I'd rather not cause that amount of commotion." Lawing said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Why not use your wire cutters?" Tex asked, her eyes falling on the padlock. The yelling stopped, and Curtis stomped over to the others.
"The lock is too thick to cut through with the cutters." he said grudgingly. Curtis stopped being so angry at the comment and snickered, his rather dirty mind seeing the joke. Lawing glared at his second-in-command, then an evil smirk crossed his face.
"Curtis." Lawing said evilly. The warrant officer stopped his chuckling and looked up at Lawing, not liking where this was going. "You'll look for the key with Tex." Curtis immediately began shaking his head and backing away, then his hands shot up to his mask. Before he could get it off, Tex grabbed his arm and began to pull him towards an office and management area.
Curtis had a look of fear on his face as Tex started to drag him off to look for the key. Curtis whimpered as he was dragged off. Jenkins looked on in wonderment, imagining the pain Curtis would go through.
"Sir, why did you let Tex run off with Curtis?" Jenkins asked lazily, listening intently to the sounds of arguing and riot shield-related injuries.
"To prove a point with him and his need to stop talking." Lawing replied. "And the fact he has a death wish when it comes to women."
"He has a death wish?" Yakob asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Particularly when it comes to women."
"Yes, he does." Lawing said. The entire group cringed as a cry of pain echoed from the office area.
"Clearly you never heard the rumors." Jenkins said knowingly. Lawing cocked an eyebrow.
"What rumors?"
"That you're extremely sexist and you can't find a single woman to date." Jenkins said coolly, as if he were discussing the weather.
"I am not." Lawing stated angrily, his face scrunching up in annoyance.
"Yes you are; every woman that has been in charge over you, you've had a problem with them, even if they do what ever it takes to please you." Jenkins said simply, fiddling with the sight of his M-4 as Lawing's ire climbed.
"That is not right."
"What about the major? You had a crush on her, but when she was in charge, you turned on her."
"I did not."
"Yes you did, she wanted to go out with you because you were smart."
"She did not even try that. If she did I would have said no."
"Sex~ist." Yakob said in a sing-song voice, throwing in his two cents worth.
"I am not sex…" Lawing said but was interrupted by Tex walking back into the space, a miserable Curtis tagging along behind her.
"Found it." Tex said proudly as she brandished the key forward.
"We found the damn key, let's go." Curtis said in a painful grunt, holding his head and groaning.
"Alright, unlock the gate and we'll head around the wreck and get back onto the track and finish the last mile on it before we head to base." Lawing said stiffly, glad that things were taking a turn for the formal.
"So we Oscar Mike?" Curtis asked anxiously; he wasn't one for staying in one spot.
"Yeah, we're Oscar Mike." Lawing replied as he turned the key in the lock and opened the gate. It slid inward and collapsed on itself like an accordion, allowing the five survivors passage through. The gate rattled to a stop as they ascended the stairs quickly, boots pounding on the steps. The steps lead to a tiled hallway, which in turn ran up into the open streets. They hustled up the next set of steps, their huffs and puffs loud in the abnormal silence. The sounds of their feet seemed too quiet for the once busy station. The stairs led to a set of turnstiles, one going in and two going out. The conglomeration of metal bars were set up to turn on an axis, and only one side was passable. They preceded through the turn gates individually, passing through so quickly that the oiled gear squeaked as the turnstile spun.
The group stepped back out into night, their breaths puffing in the cool air. Several infected wandered around, taking no notice of the armed humans as they proceeded through the street. As Lawing led the way up the main street, they came to the site of a lost battle. Smoking remains of cars and bodies littered the area on the corner of the street, all of them situated around a small semicircle of sandbags. A fifty caliber heavy machine gun sat back, its barrel stabbing upwards toward the full moon. All around it, blood and spent shell casings covered the once clean sidewalk. The box of ammunition that hung on its side was empty. Apparently, whoever had manned the gun hadn't been properly prepared. But who would be prepared for something like a zombie apocalypse, Max Brooks aside?
"What happened here?" Tex asked, keeping her voice down. She kept her eyes fixed on the gun emplacement, as if expecting infected to come pouring out from the cover of the sandbags. Thankfully, no zombies dared rationalize her fear.
"Standard military quarantine protocol. Keep everything in or keep everything out." Lawing said quietly, his eyes avoiding the heavy machine gun as he searched the area for sign of human survival. Stacked bodies, missing bodies, signs, anything. He scanned the empty street and cold brick buildings quickly, but could find nothing. As far as he knew, they were alone.
"We need to keep moving, those infected might wise up sir." Curtis said looking at the infected stumbling around.
"Alright let's keep moving. This place ain't getting any closer with us standing around talking." Lawing growled as he kept trotted towards the next station.
The group fanned out into an arrow-like formation. Lawing in front, with Curtis on his right. His left was covered by Jenkins, his rear covered by Yakob and Tex. Each survivor had a weapon u and at the ready. Lawing led the troop around the corner to the next street. The roadway was clear of infected; their only company the many uninfected corpses that had been picked clean by scavengers and the infected. A squawking sound filled the air, and a crow landed on an elderly man in a torn letterman jacket. The crow cried again, then dug greedily into the man's face, the pulled out an eye. Curtis grimaced in disgust, and swatted at the bird. The crow jumped out of his reach, however, and took off into the night, its gruesome prize clutched in its beak.
The group moved past a few Humvees and APCs that where abandoned. The vehicles' guns were pointed towards the barricade, as if they had turned on their masters. The dark woodland camo stuck out in the brickwork and metal surroundings of the city.
Lawing almost signaled for them to move up when a tearing noise reached his ears. He held up a hand and the group froze. Tex peered around, searching for the source of the noise. Another tearing noise was heard, and they all looked toward the next subway station. Just next to the entranceway, a man in woodland camo fatigues was bent over something small, and blood was pooling around his knees. His back was to the squad of survivors, but it was obvious what he was doing. Tex raised her service pistol and pointed it at the zombie, but Lawing pressed the barrel downwards with two fingers. At her questioning gaze, he put a finger to his lips, then nodded to Curtis. The warrant officer nodded back, then slipped the sling of his M-4 over his shoulder and set it on the ground. He brought his shotgun around and set it down too, the crouched and moved up toward the zombie, keeping the Humvees between himself and the infected soldier.
As Curtis maneuvered through the wreckage towards the zombie, Tex leaned over toward Lawing.
"Why are you sending the idiot in? Why don't we just shoot it?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the feasting zombie. Lawing smirked wryly at her question, but his eyes followed Curtis' movements. The warrant officer reached the front end of the Humvee closest to the zombie, and began creeping towards it. The infected soldier just kept eating, oblivious to death literally creeping up right behind it.
"Warrant Officers are basically specialists; men who train extensively in one area." Lawing replied quietly. "It can range from washroom repair to code breaker. Or, in Curtis' case," Lawing gestured toward his subordinate, who had now drawn his sixteen inch long fighting knife. The blade glinted in the moonlight, but did not attract the zombie's attention. "Close quarters combat and the silent kill." Tex's eyes widened in realization, and she watched as Curtis closed the distance between him and the zombie from yards to feet, then from feet to inches.
Curtis reached forward slowly, intent on yanking the zombie's head back and slitting its throat, but stopped when his gaze inadvertently fell on the zombie's victim. Beneath the infected soldier lay a small boy, roughly eight years old, with dark brown hair. The boy's once bright green eyes were now dull, but the look of terror hadn't left his face, even in death. The boy wore a bright blue Toy Story shirt, with Buzz Lightyear and Sherriff Woody standing next to each other and smiling. Just below the boy's shirt was a bloody, congealed mess of intestines, liver, stomach, and other viscera. Curtis' throat constricted as he gazed at the boy's face, then back to the wound. A high pitched voice echoed in his head, one whose owner had died right in front of his eyes.
"Eric, that's no fair! Why do you get to drive?" His little brother whined loudly. Eric chuckled warmly and ruffled the little boy's hair with his right hand, his left on the steering wheel of the go-cart. He and his little brother whisked down the track, passing another go-cart smoothly before zipping into a sharp left turn.
"But you said you would let me drive!" His little sibling whined loudly. Eric turned and gave his little brother a chastising look before returning his gaze to the snaking track.
"I said, when you get older you can drive. For now, you're my designated passenger." Eric said cheerfully. He turned the wheel hard, and the go-cart lurched as he dove in between another cart and the inside wall, cleanly passing yet another opponent. He expected a reply, but his little brother remained silent. He couldn't look away from the track, so he tried to coax his little brother out of his silence.
"Christien, don't be like that." No response. "Christien?"
Eric looked over, and was shocked to see his little brother choking and coughing violently, as if he had swallowed a bug. Alarmed, Eric swung the cart into the pit stop and began fumbling with the seat belts. His little brother continued to cough and hack, and his face began to turn blue.
"Don't worry little bro, I got ya!" Eric said worriedly. He finally released the harnesses and scooped up his gasping little brother. He stepped out of the cart and dashed toward the main park area. He reached the man at the controls for the traffic lights and stopped, panting heavily. The man looked at him with a frown, concern etched across his face.
"Please, mister. You gotta help my little brother." Eric gasped out. The man nodded and reached for the boy slowly. All of a sudden, a rather disheveled looking man jumped in between the two adults and grabbed the young boy. Eric cried out in alarm and reached for his little brother. The boy had lapsed into oxygen deprived unconsciousness, and hung limp in the wild man's arms.
"Hey, fucker! Give him back!" Eric snarled, grasping his little brother's legs and pulling. The man pulled back somewhat, then did something completely unexpected. He bit down on the back of Christien's neck, then tore a chunk of flesh, nerve, and meat from the young boy. Eric's eyes widened in horror as he watched blood spatter everywhere.
"NOOOOO!"
With inhuman strength, Eric wrenched his little brother from the wild man's arms and laid him down on the ground. In a revolting display, the man occupied himself by devouring the meat that he had torn from Christien's neck, an action that left him open for retaliation.
Eric's eyes blazed with rage, and he tackled the man. The two rolled across the ground as the crowd screamed in terror, fleeing for their lives. Eric grasped the man by the collar of his shirt, but the fabric tore. He snarled with rage and grasped the man's jaw tightly, the cloth in between his fingers and the man's teeth. Using the leverage he had on the jaw, he kept the man's head still and slammed his fist into his face repeatedly. The rabid man snarled and scratched at Eric's arms, but the off-duty warrant officer was too enraged to care, let alone let up. Eric ceased punching and braced himself by placing his free hand on the attacker's face, digging his thumb into its eye. Now stable, he pulled hard on the jaw with all of his strength, and the snarls of rage became a high-pitched wail of pain. He pulled and pulled, grunting in both fury and exertion, until finally a snap greeted his ears. The resistance on the jaw gave way, and he came off the man with a lower set of teeth clutched tightly in his hands.
"Christien..." Curtis whispered in a pained grimace. His voice wasn't low enough, however, as the infected stopped feasting and turned to face him. The zombie had blood dripping from broken teeth and all down its chin, but the life-giving liquid did not hide its feral snarl. The zombie turned to leap towards Curtis, but the memory of his little brother's death coupled with the young boy before him turned Curtis into something else entirely. He snarled right back and grabbed the infected by the throat, then slammed it into the pavement. The zombie tried to shriek, to call for more infected, but no air passed to its lungs. All it could do was gargle and struggle, until Curtis stabbed his fighting knife right into its left eye. It's struggled ceased immediately, but Curtis did not. He withdrew the knife and stabbed the dead zombie in the face again. And again. And again. Tears fogged his vision, and his mask prevented him from wiping them away. But he didn't care. All he wanted was for the zombie to die.
He withdrew the knife and made to stab again, until a hand caught his own. He snarled and turned to face the one who would rob him of his vengeance, only to see Lawing. He immediately calmed down, then looked back down at the little boy before him. Instead of brown hair, the boy was blonde. The green eyes were brown, and one was missing. Curtis blinked, then looked back at the rest of the group. They were all staring at him. He snatched his hand from Lawing's grasp and flicked his wrist, throwing the blood off of his fighting knife before he resheathed it. Lawing dropped Curtis' weapons beside him and walked past him, into the station. Yakob and Dean followed, but Tex still stood there, watching the warrant officer.
Oblivious to his audience, Curtis nearly ripped the fatigue top from the zombie's torso, the set it across the young boy's body. Without a word, he stood and slung his weapons, the stalked by Tex. She tried to look him in the eye, but he refused to meet her gaze. Together, they walked down the steps, leaving the two corpses behind.
This station was different from the others; the walls had clear plastic sheets, and several alcoves were curtained, as if they were showers. Tex looked at Lawing expectantly, and he sighed and explained.
"Decontamination room. Showers to wash off any biological or radioactive remnants on your clothes and skin." Lawing said as he stepped past the showers and deeper into the station. Several doors where closed, but the entrance to the platform was blocked by a heavy metal grating, the kind that required motors to open and close.
"Power must have shut it." Curtis said stiffly. He wasn't in the mood, especially after the kid's corpse.
"Spread out and search for a generator or something." Lawing said gruffly, and the other four nodded.
The group split up. Tex following Curtis towards a ticket booth as Lawing went to examine a series of consoles near the platform. He touched them, only to find that they were cold. Lack of recent use and a power supply had left them freezing to the touch. Jenkins examined a room and found a ladder to the roof, as well on some canned food in a cabinet. He grabbed them with a chuckle and stuffed them into his pack.
Curtis wasn't faring any better as he searched vainly for a power source, Tex close behind him. He turned down a dark corridor to find a set of double doors. He opened them and found himself in a rather large room, one filled with computer consoles and servers. He saw several large cables leading from the main bank of servers into a wall, and right next to the cables lay a door. He turned to Tex with a grumble.
"I'm going into the room next door to check for a power supply. When it comes on, go over and turn off security systems that should come up. Got it?"
Tex nodded as he opened the door and went through, closing it behind him. Tex huffed in exasperation and stared at the door. When he came back through, she would have a word with him over the whole knife episode. The sounds of a generator cranking up reached her ears as she started flipping switches and turning knobs. Soon the lights came back on above her, filling the room with fluorescent light. She smiled, as it made her job much easier.
Lawing was inside a weird machine, one that was attached to the consoles as the power came back on. Before he could exit the coffin-like scanner, a red laser like light came out of the device at the top. The light spun around him slowly, going from head to foot and back again, and painting hi in a red light. The consoles came to life with color as the device stopped moving, and the door slid open. Lawing walked over to the console that had reactivated and studied the readouts. At the top of the screen were his blood pressure and heartbeat monitors. In the middle was a human shaped puzzle, detailing primary organ systems and overall health. The little person representing Lawing was all green, except for two areas: a small yellow area near the back of his head, and a small red area on his left arm. Perplexed, Lawing moved his finger over the red area and tapped the screen. The little man went away and a large message appeared on the screen: 'Second Generation Infection Found. Security has been notified."
Lawing gasped in disbelief, and his legs felt rubbery. He clinged to the console and used the frame to support himself, while his mind raced a mile a minute. How? It's not possible! But the cold hard truth settled in on him, and the realization hurt: he was infected.
Curtis had yet to exit the generator room, which caused Tex to get nervous. Yakob entered the control room, Jenkins right behind him. Tex was just about to ask one of them something, when scuffling sounds came from the room in front of them. Yakob and Jenkins looked at each other, then went to different sides of the door and got ready to breech it. Both of them nodded, then Yakob kicked the door in with a grunt, and they both rushed in.
Lawing sat down heavily, not noticing the gate open with a loud creak as the news sunk in. He was infected. The LT looked at his right arm, rolling up the sleeve and examining a bandage that was on it. He peeled it off to reveal a long, shallow cut. He applied some antibiotic cream from his med kit and put another bandage on it. As he rolled up his sleeve, his mind drifted to the Battle of Second Street.
Shrapnel had cut him as the artillery arced in. and infected exploded close to him. It had showered the arm in blood as Lawing tried to block it from getting onto his mask. Lawing nodded to himself, sure that was the infection time. That was the only chance it could have happened. Damn. He looked at the gate with a heavy sigh and waited for the rest of the group, M-4 across his knees.
Jenkins and Yakob burst into the generator room to find Curtis bent over something, his voice muttering some mantra over and over again. Yakob sent Deano a questioning look, to which the sergeant replied with a shrug. They approached cautiously, only for Curtis to wheel around and plop down on his butt. Clutched in the warrant officer's hands was a Squad Automatic Weapon, or SAW for short. The M-240 LMG was primarily used to spit bullets out in large quantities, but this particular model was mounted with an ACOG short range scope. Curtis patted the gun lovingly, and repeated his mantra.
"We're gonna kill lots of zombies now, oh yes we are. Oh yes we are." He cooed, as if he were speaking to a dog. Tex looked on in disbelief at the show, and Jenkins removed his gas mask in an attempt to clear his vision. He revealed a slightly pudgy face with the smatterings of a beard, a full mustache blooming above his upper lip. Curly dark hair sat on top of his head, cut short to follow army regulations. Yakob calmly removed his and whistled. Curtis looked up suddenly, trying to cover up the M-240 with his body as they looked on.
"What?" he asked indignantly, his own mask off. His face was a bit thinner than most, and a patch of hair on his chin were the only signs of a beard on his face. His dark hair was cut short in a crew cut, and his fierce eyebrows were furrowed in a frown.
"Just checking on you, Curtis." Tex said in a deadpan voice, then turned to the other two and made a shooing motion. They caught then drift, and both turned to leave, snickering as they did so.
Jenkins and Yakob walked out the room, leaving the other two alone. Tex glared at Curtis as she slid up behind him, riot shield at the ready. She pushed it forward roughly, causing Curtis to lurch forward. He turned around with anger in his eyes.
"Stop hitting me with that thing damn you." He snarled, his teeth glinting in the glow of the next room's lights.
Tex ignored him and walked back into the control room, turning on the microphone in hopes that she could record this for future memories. Unknown to her, it wasn't linked to a recording device but the intercom system. Curtis followed her out shoulders bunched and frown present.
"What the fuck is your problem with me?" Tex asked sharply, speaking a little louder for the microphone.
"My problem? What's your problem with me?" He demanded hotly, stepping closer to her.
"You're an idiot pervert, you have no respect for women. And to top it off, you went ape shit on that zombie out front, and then went straight to cuddling with a heavy machine gun!"
"You have nothing on me; your problems are nothing. I have a crazy psycho woman after me with no restraint and a very belligerent riot shield. And about the zombie outside..." He trailed off, and her expression turned to one of concern. He looked away, not meeting her eyes. She tried to make eye contact, but his green orbs roamed the room.
"My first encounter with the infected was when a man killed my little brother, tried to eat him. The little boy we saw today reminded me of it." Curtis said apologetically. He hung his head in shame, almost as if he expected a reprimand. Tex reached out towards his cheek, but he shied away. For some reason, that instinctive motion hurt her.
Loud sounds cut off Tex's reply, and she turned to stare at the security cameras. Many hundred infected where streaming towards the station from all directions, drawn by their little heart-to-heart. Lawing ran into the room and glared at the screen, followed closely by Jenkins and Yakob. He switched into tactical mode instantly, his face setting into a grim frown.. He looked into the other room and pointed at a rack toward the rear of the area.
"Yakob, grab one of those 240's and protect the front. Jenkins, do the same thing, but for the platform. Tex, you're up front. Curtis, cover the side entrance. I'm going to the roof." They all nodded as one and split up accordingly, Yakob and Jenkins dashing into the generator room, and Tex and Curtis out into the hallway. Lawing turned toward the opposite wall, where a ladder and a hatch led to the upper area.
Lawing ascended the ladder quickly to find himself in a tram control room turned sniper nest. He smirked at the convenience and unslung his M-21 sniper rifle. With a quick jab, he smashed a window out with the butt of his rifle. Down below, Tex stood next to the front entrance, riot shield in one hand and her P90 in the other. And roughly sixty yards ahead of her, a rather large swarm of infected.
Lawing sighted up on the first one he saw; a rather frail looking woman clad in just a black tank top and some orange pajamas. Just before he squeezed the trigger, he heard Curtis over the radio.
"Jesus Christ, they're all over the place!" (Here, I was thinking the quote from Nacht der Untoten's trailer from World At War, which is owned by Treyarch.)
Merc Inc here Ch. 3 is now done and edited.