The sun was high in the sky, signaling the arrival of noon. It was a good thing they'd been picked up before the sun reached it's boiling point.
Melissa kept her head down, caught up in her own thoughts rather than listening to Tucker's story. She already knew all the events they had gone through and didn't care to relive them. So she hunkered down and blocked everyone else out, instead focusing on her own thoughts.
Unfortunately, her thoughts only drifted back to what had happened. She bit her lower lip and chewed furiously, squeezing her eyes shut. She tried to shut those thoughts out, but to no avail.
Everything had gone, for the most part, smoothly after they departed from the Marina. Nobody was infected, they had supplies and everything was okay. Gas was dwindling and it had been Michael's idea to use the sails until they got to the island just incase there were any unwanted surprises.
As they reached the docks on the island, everyone armed themselves and left the boat. It all seemed well as they set their supplies down, until an all too familiar sound pierced the air. Before they knew it, there was a horde of the infected coming at them. Gun fire rang out as everyone did their best to retreat.
Well, almost everybody.
Nicole wanted to get Chip, who had run off when they'd docked. Melissa and Terry did their best to pull her back onto the boat, but she was surprisingly strong. She smashed her elbow into Terry's nose, which left Melissa to try and hold the girl back herself. Somewhere in all the flailing, Nicole lost her footing and fell off of the docks, but not before hitting her head on the side of the boat. Infected jumped in after her.
Terry had done his best to save his girlfriend, but it was already too late. Melissa wasn't sure what had happened to Ana or Kenneth, she had been too busy with Nicole to pay attention to everyone else and by the time she regained her senses, those two were no where to be seen.
That left only her, Kyle, C.J., Michael, Terry and Tucker, though, Michael was already doomed. She saw him fighting desperately, armed with a crowbar they'd managed to stash away before their departure, striking, punching and kicking at the infected as they tried to come aboard, small parts of his skin already torn away. Tucker managed to start the engine and began to back away from the docks, but it was taking too long.
Kyle, C.J. and Terry were standing on the side of the boat closest to the docks, doing what they could do defend their ship. Unfortunately, a large infected man that Michael had been wrestling with got away from him and made a b-line for Terry. Kyle shoved him out of the way and toppled over board into the lake, along with the man. Sadly, his efforts were in vain because Terry rolled off the deck as well, unable to catch himself.
The last she saw of Kyle was him bobbing in the water, kicking wildly to keep himself afloat while fighting desperately against the infected man, combat knife in hand.
She knew then that she'd never see him again. He was dead, would be soon, or was worse off than that. When she finally accepted this, it felt as if someone had punched a hole in her heart. Kyle had been special to her, she knew she felt something incredible for him deep down, but now...
Now he was gone and there was nothing she could do. Just another victim to this plauge.
She felt tears stinging her eyes and brought her hands up to her dirty face, choking back a sob that welled up in her throat. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over to see C.J., a pained expression on his usually hard features.
"You okay, Mel?" He asked quietly, genuinely concerned.
She slowly nodded, wiping at her face.
"Y-yeah... Just fine." Melissa answered firmly, not willing to let the others see her cry.
"I see, you three have been through a lot then." One of the soldiers who had rescued them, Jacob something-or-other, spoke. He was a broad shouldered, handsome man with short, dark colored hair, coal colored eyes and a good amount of stubble on his face unlike all the other male soldiers she'd seen so far. "Well, like I said before, we're going to do the absolute best we can to keep you people safe and get you back to Fort Recovery."
"Sounds like a plan." Tucker said, nodding approvingly.
"How long do you think it'll be until then?" C.J. asked.
"Well, we're gonna touch down and refuel soon, but after that anywhere from twelve to fifteen hours." Jacob explained. "We'll need to make at least one more fuel stop before we make it to Costa Rica and assuming the conditions and environment are fair, then it shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes."
"Yes, but in the wake of this disaster, what are the chances of our conditions being fair?" The other survivor that had been picked up days earlier, Joel, questioned, cocking an eyebrow.
Jake stared at him for a couple of seconds before replying. "Are you always a pessimistic ass?"
The long haired man simply shrugged his shoulders, chuckling softly. "There's no need to be offended, Sergeant. I'm not a pessimist, simply a realist."
"There's a fine line between the two."
"Perhaps..."
"Hey, hey, hey boys!" A female soldier spoke up. "Break it up you two, turn the testosterone down a couple of notches."
Joel merely chuckled, leaning back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap. "No raging hormones here, my dear."
"Yeah, Red." Jacob said, looking over at his fellow soldier. "We're just having a friendly conversation."
"Sure sounded like it." The female soldier, Red as she had been called, said with a roll of the eyes.
Red was an attractive woman, slim and lean, and probably an inch or two taller than Melissa herself. She had dark hair that was cut to her shoulders and tied back with a hair band, leaving only her bangs hanging down. Her eyes were a dark brown color and she was clad in military fatigues and armor like the others. Her weapon of choice, however, was different; it was a large, bolt action sniper rifle that was olive in color. It looked like something Kyle might have used.
When the soldier noticed Melissa eying her weapon, she smiled and asked, "You got a thing for rifles?"
Melissa smiled halfheartedly, nodding a bit. "Yes and no. Someone we lost was a sniper. He and his friend rescued me from Fort Pastor..." She trailed off, staring at the floor.
"No need to say anymore." Red said, giving a thumbs up. She then propped her rifle up, placing the stock against the floor. "This right here is my baby, Trudy. She's an M40A3 Sniper Rifle. Magazine fed, bolt action, chambered with those sexy 7.62x51mm rounds and fitted with a pretty little Scout Sniper Day Scope on top. She's served me well for the past two and a half years."
Everyone paid attention as Red began to explain all the modifications she had made to her rifle in the time she'd had it. Melissa had a feeling that she wasn't explaining it for any reason other than to get everyone's mind off the negative feelings floating around.
Jake chuckled beside her when she had finished, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Nice job, Red. You gonna tell 'em all about every other weapon we got on board now, or are you done?"
The dark haired soldier's cheeks reddened and she scowled (though it was clearly playful) at her commanding officer. "Stuff it, Chief!"
Everyone shared a laugh at this. When the laughter died, the next person to speak was one of the soldiers who'd dropped down onto the boat. He was a thin, lean man who had short cut light brown hair and a pair of gorgeous blue-green eyes. His body was rippling with muscles and he had a fair complexion.
"Ocampo's our team's marksman, so she's good with guns. She's chalk full of knowledge and just loves to share. Nothing wrong with that, though, we all become chatter boxes on the right subjects." He said, giving everyone a smile.
"Aww, thanks Goldie!" Red beamed up at the taller man.
"Goldie?" Tucker asked.
"Oh." Red grinned then jerked her thumb toward herself. "The name's Kiara Ocampo, but ya'll can call me Red. This is Matt Goldsmith," she pointed to the soldier to her left. "Jake Prince," she then pointed to him. "our two pilots are Mark Adams and James Connor" she pointed to the pilot seats. "and finally, Holly Dawson." she pointed to a small woman who was sitting close to the pilots.
Holly was a small, fragile looking woman. She had strawberry blond hair which was all tied back and out of her face, revealing a pair of hazel colored eyes. She was pale and had a timid aura about her, but something told Melissa that she would be quite a surprise if pushed. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
"Speaking of Holly." Red turned to the other female soldier. "She's been so quiet, I almost forgot about her! Come on, Holly, speak up!"
Holly looked up at the others, almost looking surprised that she had been acknowledged. "Umm..." She said quietly, smiling shyly. "Bonjour."
C.J. cocked an eyebrow. "French, hm? You don't look French."
"Ah, lay off C.J." Tucker sighed. "Do you have to be an ass to everyone?"
"Well, actually Holly here is of French decent. Her Great Grandparents immigrated here from France." Matt pointed out, giving the small soldier a reassuring grin.
"Yep, yep." Red stood up and walked over to the other female soldier. "We're all a big happy family on-board this bird and Doc here is our little sister."
"Sorry to break up the fun, but we're gonna need to land here soon so we fuel up, Sergeant." One of the pilot's called back.
Jake nodded then stood up, walking up toward the cockpit. Melissa meanwhile settled back into her seat, her eyes falling shut. She felt herself beginning to drift off when the chopper began to descend and soon she felt someone shaking her. Her eyes flipped open, startled and she instinctively reached for a handgun that wasn't there anymore.
"Melissa!" Tucker was in front of her, shotgun in his hands. "Phew, good thing you weren't fully asleep. You sleep like a rock, ya know that?"
She smiled crookedly, sitting up. She wasn't sure what was going on, but Tucker quickly clarified.
"Well, get on up." He said, turning away. "We've all gotta keep watch while the tanks're being filled."
"Where are we?" Melissa asked as she stepped out of the helicopter and onto the baseball field.
"Chicago." Kiara answered, peering ahead through the scope of her M40. "We're smack dab in the middle of Wrigley Field. They tried to set-up a temporary base here when this whole thing started, but it didn't turn out so well, as you can see."
There were a couple tents left standing in the field now. Most had been torn down or blown away and there were quite a few mostly decomposed bodies littering the ground. Some were in the field itself while others were in the stands and many spots in the famous ivy covered walls had been torn away. There were also some supply crates scattered about with who-knew-what in them as well as a variety of weapons lying around. it smelled pretty bad, but because most of the bodies were almost completely rotted away, the worst had passed. One could only imagine how bad it would have been a week after this happened
Red watched as Jake and Matt, who'd gone on ahead and sealed off the gates to the field themselves, made their way back. It seemed the area was secure, so she turned back toward the pilots and waved her hand in a circle, signaling for them to start filling up the chopper.
"Wow, Wrigley stadium..." Tucker turned in circles, taking in the sights.
Red chuckled. Boys will be boys. She thought to herself.
"You're a baseball fan?" She asked casually.
Tucker nodded furiously. "Yes, Ma'am, I am. I used to play back in High School." He said proudly. "They used to call me Tucker Pepper Palms!"
Kiara laughed. "For your pitching or catching?"
"Both." He replied. "I taught myself to be ambidextrous; I can throw with my right and catch with my left."
"Not bad." She nodded her head. "Could've used more ambidextrous guys like you on the field."
Jacob and Matthew returned at about this time.
"Welcome back, boys." Red said with a smile.
"Thanks, Private." Jacob said in his typical fashion. She sighed, shaking her head. The Sergeant then looked over at the helicopter. "Adams, Connor, how's it coming along?"
"Everything's going smoothly, Sergeant!" Airman hollered. "Another ten or so minutes, and we'll be ready to go."
"Alright, that gives us a little bit of time to gather supplies." Chief signaled for his team to pay attention. "Dawson, you stay here with the survivors, Ocampo, Goldsmith, you two-"
"We don't need some fucking babysitter. This ain't a fucking nursery school." C.J. protested. "We survived for a whole month and a half without your fucking help, we don't need to be watched."
Red was taken back by the way C.J. spoke to the Chief. Not many soldiers - let alone civies - would dare speak that way to someone of authority. She had a feeling a man like him would have made a good Marine.
"Regulations. We're obligated to protect you." Chief replied stiffly. Apparently he hadn't expected anybody to talk to him like that either.
"Yeah, fuck your regulations. We don't need some fucking wanna-be hero-"
"C.J., stop it! Was Kyle a wanna-be hero?"
As soon as Melissa spoke, C.J. stopped. He frowned, shooting the woman a glare. With a roll of his eyes, he stayed quiet, sulking. Jacob sensed the tension and a hand signal later, the team left the survivors they'd picked up on their own by the helicopter.
The next few minutes were slow; the soldiers began to collect crates full of supplies that had been left behind and loaded them onto the chopper, as they had been instructed to do by General Swanson before they left. It was still early in the day, about 2:12 PM according to Kiara's watch. If they kept up this pace, they would be back at Fort Recovery before midnight.
Just as they began to load the last crate onto the bird, however, their radios crackled.
"Hello? Hello, is anybody there? Please, we saw your helicopter, please respond!"
Immediately, Chief snatched up his radio and clicked the button, speaking loudly into it.
"This is Staff Sergeant Jacob Prince, 160th Special Operation Aviation Regiment. What is your status? Over."
"Oh, my God." The voice, a female, on the other side gasped. "We're... we're okay. I'm... My name. My name is Linda Plum, I'm a teacher. Me and about six other people, three students, a police officer and the principal, are all locked up at a high school. Where are you?"
"Wrigley Field, Ma'am. Do you know where you are from our position?" As he said this, Jacob signaled for them to grab the maps. Goldie was on it immediately.
"Wrigley Field? Um... um..." There was a short silence before somebody else came over the radio.
"Yeah. You're, like, ten miles away, my Dad used to take me there all the time. Uh, I'm not too good with directions, but our address is... 2148 North Long Avenue." This voice was a young male. "Please come get us Be careful though, man. Outside, there's a ton of those things."
"Got'cha. Thank you for the coordinates, we will be there as soon as possible. Just stay calm, we will keep in contact. Over."
Two minutes later, Goldie was pointing at a spot on the map. "Got 'em, Jake."
"Where are they?"
"South West. They're only about eight miles away. We can get there in less than five minutes if we leave now."
"Adams, Connor, how're we doing on the fueling situation?" Chief shouted.
"We're done here, Sergeant. We just need to move this tank back inside and we can be off the air ASAP." Airman answered.
"Get it done, Adams! We leave here in five minutes!"
"On it, Sarge!"
"This is it, team!" Jacob turned to Goldie and herself. "Get switched on, this is the real deal! We've gotta a job to do, let's move, move, move!"
The team hurried and hauled the last crate up the ramp and into the helicopter, then ushered everyone in. The bird's rotars picked up speed as they strapped in and was lifting off and into the air a few minutes later.