Bat Country
Davis and his patrol lined up outside the barricade at the forward operations base. Arrangements had been made for Sergeant Sakamoto and Corporal Clayton to rendezvous at the abutment overlooking the Philippine Sea where initial contact had been made.
"Alright, men," Davis faced his troop. "We are short staffed, so no unnecessary noise. Scatter if you can and only fight when you must."
He pulled a map from a thigh pocket and opened it on the pavement. "Everyone has a copy, correct?" The men double-checked their pockets and pouches. Edmonds kept his tucked into the headband of his patrol hat.
"Everyone's map has designated safe points to rally in the event we are scattered; I want to make sure that does not happen. Be alert, be smart and be safe. Now, one last radio check and we're off."
The men did as they were told. Satisfied that all was correct, Davis led his men back into the canyon towards the abutment.
As agreed, Sakamoto and Clayton arrived within minutes at the meeting location. The Royal Marines piled into the bed of the makeshift scout vehicle before Clayton executed a three-point turn and headed back toward Miyagijima.
Sakamoto opened the rear window. "Sorry to make you boys ride in the back," she apologized. "I tried getting a proper scout truck, but those are being held in reserve for the big push."
Davis regarded the obviously makeshift nature of the open-top cage that encircled the bed. "No worries, Sergeant. Better in here than on foot out there. At least we are afforded protection and mobility."
"Head's up," Clayton called from the driver's seat. "Walkers ahead. Lots."
Clayton slowed the vehicle to allow better handling. As announced, several shamblers approached the truck, arms outstretched; their moans barely audible over the rumble of the truck's engine. Clayton maneuvered to avoid hitting any, but inevitably more than a few ran afoul of the dozer blade and went under the tires. The sickening crunch of flesh and bone added to the macabre soundtrack of the morning. Unfortunately, Clayton's cautious driving and the growing numbers of Them surrounding the vehicle made driving increasingly difficult.
"Corporal Davis, don't hesitate to lay down suppressing fire," Sakamoto said as she slid a magazine into her M4. "There's plenty of 5.56 and mags in the lockboxes you are sitting on."
Davis turned to his men. "You heard the sergeant; weapons free. Head shots are the only kill shots."
Edmonds careful took aim and dropped two. Nelson, beside him, got punchy and let off several rounds with no visible effect.
"Calm down, lad," Edmonds said. "No point in throwin' 'em away. Just take yer time."
Sharpe and Davis each put rounds through dead heads while Williamson made sure everyone had full magazines. Sakamoto poked her rifle through the mesh, but fared no better than Nelson.
"I could use a clear path up front," Clayton called out. At this, Davis and Sharpe stood and fired over the cab. Despite the best efforts of all the Marines, the road lay clogged with more and more zombies.
"Fuck this!" Clayton shouted. "Everyone, grab hold of something." He shifted to neutral then engaged the 4-wheel drive. As commanded, everyone grabbed what they could to steady themselves. At once, the transmission caught and the truck lurched forward. The knobby tires grabbing at anything in their path, the truck pushed over, around and through the crowd of gaping maws.
A few seconds passed, leaving the majority of corpses behind. Sakamoto called into the bed. "Davis, there's a fun little noisemaker in one of those boxes. Break it out and put it to good use."
Davis snapped to attention and proceeded to open every box until he found the prize he sought. Resting near the bottom, in a coil of its own ammunition lay an M32 grenade launcher. Checking the ammo stocks, Davis found all incendiary warheads. He smiled in undisguised glee as he loaded each chamber.
"Try to keep 'em on the road," Sakamoto cautioned. "We don't want to lose anything useful in the houses."
"Point me to an open field," Clayton said. "We'll draw them there and let'er rip."
Sakamoto led Clayton through the winding maze of narrow village streets, the crowd growing with each worrisome moment. Dead fingers pawed at the truck and grasped the metal work. The Marines inside expended round after round of ammunition repelling boarders as the target destination grew closer and closer.
After interminable minutes of grinding through the village, the truck nosed its way into the exact open area Sakamoto pointed out a few days prior.
"Stay on the paths," she warned Clayton. "Let Them come to us, but don't get us bogged into the mud."
"Aye, Sergeant," Clayton said. He deftly maneuvered onto a narrow dirt track running the length of the rows of fields. There, he stopped and killed the motor. The silence that fell was deafening as the dead who had been following lost the sound trail and began to wander aimlessly.
"This'll get 'em back on track," Sakamoto said as she produced a starter whistle. The shrill sound pierced the silence and echoed off the surrounding hills. As expected, the dead perked up at the sound and meandered toward the truck. Sakamoto let out two more blasts of the whistle to ensure they came to their final deaths.
"Davis, the grand finale, if you please," Sakamoto said.
"With pleasure, Sergeant." Davis stood and aimed in the general vicinity of the largest crowd. He popped all six grenades and waited for the inevitable 'thud' signaling the fires to come. His wait did not last long as the first rounds landed and immediately burst into flame. Those caught in the vicinity were engulfed almost instantly as dead flesh caught flame. One after another, the remaining grenades exploded and spread fire through the ranks of the walking dead.
"Oorah, Corporal!" Sakamoto called out. "That is some damn good shooting!"
Davis did not have time to relish his congratulations before Nelson sounded the alarm. "I got Zeds approaching port."
Clayton started the truck and eased forward, ever careful to remain on the track. Davis reloaded the M32 and launched several more grenades; careful to ensure they landed where the effect would be multiplied. His Marines followed up with potshots at loners and small groups.
"Clayton, get us back onto the main road," Sakamoto ordered. "We may have to go around again, but this is working great."
"Aye, Sergeant." Clayton eased the truck forward as the burning embers died out, taking the dead with them. Small groups coalesced into larger ones, each hit with a grenade from Davis' steady aim. Clayton drove up a short embankment and found himself back on the main road. He wheeled the truck back toward the village with the intent to draw more zombies to them.
The drive around the hills took them into the village of Yonashirotobaru on the south end of the island. The village being smaller, the dead were fewer, but no less dangerous. Clayton herded the undead into the fields and the Marines dispatched them accordingly.
"We're going to need gas," Clayton called out. "I'm going to head back north to Yonashiromiyagi. There's a station there where we can fill up."
"Oh, my God!" Sakamoto called out as the truck came to a screeching halt in front of Yonashiromiyagi Elementary school. The Marines in back stood up to see what lay before them.
A large group of children - or what had been children - all turned their dead eyes in the direction of the idling pick-up and hissed in unison as they shuffled toward them. They're already dead. The thought collectively rang out in everyone's mind, over and over again. These weren't children, full of life, full of happiness; these were dead, faded mockeries. Still, just the sight of their blood-stained clothes, clothes their parents lovingly dressed them in before sending them off, choked the breath in each and every one of the hardened Marines.
Clayton put the truck in reverse and backed over the corpses of elementary students. Nelson promptly emptied his stomach as Edmonds gently patted him on the back.
Clayton got the truck turned and drove to a field on the outskirts of town.
"Let's try and herd'em best we can," Sakamoto said, the tears streaming down her face. "Put them down quick so they can rejoin their parents."
Clayton drove slowly in a wide arc over the dry field bottom.
"F-Fire as you w-will, Corporal Davis," Sakamoto wept.
Nelson heaved his guts once more as Edmonds stared into the growing throng of children. Clayton stopped the truck and shook his head in disbelief. Sakamoto cried unabashedly.
"Jeasus-fookin' Christ," Edmonds swore under his breath. "Even the littiw ones. Tha' is a fookin sick joke, tha' is." Williamson spat contemptuously onto the bed of the truck. Sharpe shouldered his weapon and fired a shaky round into the crowd. While doing no actual damage, the shock of the discharge shook each Marine back into the here and now. The corpses of older adults added their numbers as Sakamoto blew her nose and dried her eyes.
"Davis, clear that field, now."
Davis shouldered the grenade launcher, but could not bring himself to fire the weapon.
"Goddammit, Marine! That was a fucking order!" Sakamoto screamed through her own despair.
Davis summoned all his will power to steady his aim and let three grenades fly into the horde of dead kids. He didn't have the heart to look as they all succumbed to the flames that engulfed them.
Her willpower spent, Sakamoto collapsed into Clayton's lap.
"Get us out of here, Larry," she said weakly.
The drive back into Yonashiromiyagi carried on in silence. Only the report of small arms fire broke the quiet. Clayton pulled into the gas station and killed the engine. The few of Them in the immediate vicinity were put down ruthlessly as the Marines set up a perimeter around the truck.
Davis pulled on his game face to address his comrades.
"Edmonds, you and Sharpe are on me. We do this just like Osaka. The rest stay with the Americans and guard the truck."
All three men hustled across the parking lot and peered into the convenience store. Several zombies could be seen as they shuffled about the aisles. The three Marines spread into an attack formation and swept the store.
Davis rounded the register and nearly fell into the clutches of a crawler who evidently lost its legs in an attack. "Bloody bastard!" he shouted as he put two rounds through its skull. He switched on the pump and gave the thumbs up to Clayton through the broken window. He then gathered several plastic sacks and distributed them to Edmonds and Sharpe.
"Toiletries and hygiene products," Davis commanded. "And Twinkies."
Sharpe chuckled aloud as he and Edmonds conducted a thorough search of the aisles and filled their sacks.
"How about Snoballs?" Sharpe lofted a package over to Davis.
"Ugh!" Davis scoffed, before chucking the coconut confection into the rubbish bin. "I can't stand the damn things."
"We got company!" Clayton shouted. Davis looked through the glass door to see Clayton giving the 'wrap it up' signal. As he did, zombies approached steadily on all sides.
"We're leaving now!" Davis barked. Edmonds and Sharpe gathered their loot and hot-tailed behind Davis into the back of the waiting pick-up. Clayton gunned the motor, running over several Zeds as he left the station.
000
Several rounds through the main villages netted similar results throughout the day. Each trip resulted in fewer and fewer walking dead, but were no less harrowing than the first. By late afternoon, the group was tired and showing signs of fatigue. Clayton entered the outskirts of Yonashiromiyagi for the third and final time.
"We need to check in," Sakamoto told Clayton. "The general will want to know what we've been up to."
"Agreed," Clayton said. "We should get the Brits back to Ikei. I'm sure their CO is worried about them as well."
"Corporal Davis," Sakamoto turned to the back window. "We are going to stop at the gas station for one more fill up before we return you to Ikei."
"Understood, Sergeant," Davis said. "We'll do our end. Thanks for the fun day."
Sakamoto smiled. "You're welcome back for another go tomorrow."
"That's up to Captain de Souza, but I'm sure he'll appreciate the offer."
The truck rolled back to the same station vacated earlier that day. With no need to scavenge for the same supplies, Davis took Edmonds and left Sharpe to guard the pick-up. Rounding the register once again and pausing to kick at the corpse he left behind, Davis noticed in their haste to leave previously that he had left the pump switches on. He signaled to Clayton to begin fueling.
Edmonds had wandered to the back of the store and was munching on a bag of nearly expired crisps when the restroom door burst open and caught Edmonds across the back. He stumbled forward as the weight of a body landed on him.
"Corporal!" he managed to get out before he felt the pain.
Davis rounded the last aisle and saw Edmonds in a life or death tussle with someone - or something. He had his Sykes-Fairbairn in his hand and immediately took a swing at Edmond's attacker. The thing let out a yelp of pain and rolled off.
Davis shouldered his rifle and leveled it at the form cowering in the corner. "Namae-wa!" he shouted.
The figure wrapped its hand around the now bleeding wound on its pale arm and looked up at Davis. Sharpe came running in, his rifle at the ready as he came to stand beside Davis. Edmonds struggled to his feet and gripped the back of his head.
"Bloody he'w," he cursed. "Second time I take a hit to the back in two munths. I was safeah in Afghanistan."
"Namae-wa!" Davis commanded again.
Edmonds' attacker shook its head.
"What is your name!"
"Andrea. Andrea Jensen,"
"On your feet, Andrea Jensen," Davis said, his rifle never leaving her. "Sharpe, let the Sergeant know we have a guest."
Sharpe dashed off through the door. Andrea stood as ordered, but dropped her head, dark brown hair covering her eyes.
"Are you hurt, Miss Jensen?" Davis asked. Edmonds shook off the last of his shock and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
Andrea remained silent and held her bleeding arm for inspection. "Edmonds, check for bite marks."
Edmonds nodded and moved to inspect Andrea. She immediately recoiled and assumed a right-lead fighting stance. Davis trained his weapon on Andrea's face. "I will not hesitate to shoot, Miss Jensen."
Andrea lowered her guard slightly and turned to face down the barrel of Davis' rifle. "Yer British," she said, Los Angeles thick on her tongue.
"Her Majesty's Royal Marines," Davis said, never lowering his rifle. "My name is Corporal JD Davis. The man you blindsided is Lance Corporal Shaun Edmonds."
"I'm not hurt," Andrea said as she dropped her guard completely and submitted to Edmonds' search, "Other than my arm, that is."
"She's clean, relatively speaking," Edmonds said with a smirk. "Nothink a good bath won't fix."
"How long have you been here, Miss Jensen?" Davis asked as he lowered his rifle. He then produced a clean rag and handed it to Andrea.
"Define here," Andrea said as she wrapped her wounded left arm.
Davis rolled his eyes. Solicitor type, he thought. "On Miyagi, in this store, in that toilet. Take your pick."
Andrea opened her mouth to speak, but the voice that spoke was decidedly masculine. "We're fubar."
All heads turned to see Cpl Clayton walking into the shop. "Motor's fried," Clayton explained. "Don't know when or how, but it won't start."
"Then we are stranded," Davis said. "And with a survivor, no less."
"I can take care of myself," Andrea huffed. "Been okay on my own for a month. I don't need you."
"That may be, but we are all under orders to round up survivors and take them to safety," Clayton said.
"Safety?" Andrea asked. "What's that? It don't exist anymore. There's no place that's safe, only safer."
The service members all regarded the pride that emanated from this woman. That she had survived this long in the midst of the walking dead was not lost on any of them. At the same time, she was refusing help and was likely to join Them soon if she kept going the way she did.
"I won't force you," Clayton said, "but the British and the Americans are coming and we would rather not hurt you by mistake."
"I doubt that highly," Andrea hissed. "Been here since those - creatures - showed up and killed my boyfriend almost a month ago. Where were you then, huh? Hiding behind walls and fences and guns while I had only my wits and skills to rely on."
Davis sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. Miss Jensen, it's obvious you neither want nor need our help. We will be on our way. If you change your mind, make your way north to Ikeijima or southwest to Okinawa proper."
He turned and led Edmonds out of the shop. Clayton fell in behind, leaving Andrea Jensen to her fate.
Sharpe, Williamson and Nelson were scrambling over the truck trying to diagnose what was wrong while Sakamoto paced cover.
"The engine won't crank," Williamson said as the scouting party reformed at the pump. "I checked all the fuel lines, but nothing is leaking. Oil pressure is good as well."
Sakamoto frowned as Clayton checked his watch. "Be dark in a couple of hours. Not enough time to get to either Green Zone on foot."
"Anything look likely for a shelter for tonight?" Sakamoto asked as she scanned the immediate neighborhood.
"You can stay over at mine," a voice said. All turned to see Andrea Jensen walking out of the store. In her right hand, she carried a half-meter length of steel pipe, taped up at one end for a handle and splattered in blood and gore. "I have a shelter across the street. You can stay there tonight."
000
The house was a modest, if a bit old, low-slung one storey. The windows had been hastily boarded up and the fence reinforced with whatever lay to hand. Crude, yet effective, bamboo stakes protruded from the ground to chest height at such an angle denying easy access to every entrance except the front door. The efficacy in evidence by two bodies suspended near a side window, heads bashed in.
Andrea led the group through the maze of punji stakes and heaved the door aside. She held her combat stick to the ready and knocked on the doorframe several times. Satisfied the house was empty, she invited her guests in for the evening.
"I apologize for my earlier behavior," Andrea said as she lit a candle. "I just had a hard time believing that anyone would come for me after so long. When my boyfriend was killed, I gave up all hope of ever being rescued and just tried to survive the best I could."
"How did you find yourself here in the first place?" Sakamoto asked. "Kinda far off the beaten tourist path."
"That is exactly why we came here," Andrea said. "James, my boyfriend, and I try...tried...to visit places away from where tourists go. We were here to get a sense of authentic Okinawan life."
"I was admiring your handiwork in fortifying the place," Davis spoke.
"James' idea. He taught military history at a college in L.A. We just took the idea of basic punji stakes to the next logical step."
Sakamoto stood and stretched. "How many points of ingress in this house?"
"Ingress?" Andrea asked. "You mean entry?"
"Yeah, sure." Sakamoto replied. "How many?"
"After we boarded up the windows, just two. Front door and back, through the kitchen." Andrea pointed down the short hall. "I blocked it off after James died. So, really just the front door."
Sakamoto checked her watch. 1900 hours. "Clayton, I want you and Nelson, was it?" The private nodded, and Sakamoto continued, "I want you two on first watch at the back. Davis, you're with me up front. Rotate one man every two hours. Sharpe takes over for Nelson, Williamson for Davis. After that, I rotate out and cover for Clayton. Edmonds rotates in to cover Davis. That way everyone gets four hours on and four hours off, except me with four on, two off. This goes until daylight. Then we make a break and try to salvage the truck."
"And if the truck stays broken?" Clayton asked. "We tried a bump start, but that didn't work either."
"We give it one hour to fix," Sakamoto said. "If it's still humped by then, we break for the nearest Green Zone. According to the map, that would be the fob run by the Royal Marines on the north-east end of the island."
Davis cleared his throat "All due respect, Sergeant. There is a lot of rough terrain and a large village that still may contain Zed activity between here and there. Would it be easier, if a bit longer, to make for Okinawa proper?"
Sakamoto sat back down and stared at the map in the flickering gloom. Tiring of the eyestrain, she produced her angle-head light, swapped in the red lens and studied further.
"You have a point, Davis. However, we have to get through the village on SE Henza. Then we have to fight our way through Uruma which has not been secured or cleared."
"Or we order up a helo evac," Clayton offered. "We got Ospreys and the Army has helos. Hell, we can even get CAS if we need to."
Andrea watched the conversation unfold as it left her far behind. "Helos? Evac? CAS?"
Sakamoto smiled. "Sorry. Helo is short for helicopter. Evac is short for evacuation and Osprey is the V22 Osprey tilt-rotor."
"CAS is an acronym for 'Close Air Support'." Clayton said. "It's what Marines do better than chair farce. Oorah."
"I am so lost," Andrea admitted. "We could just take the rental I still have."
"What kind of car is it?" Davis asked.
Immediately, Andrea felt foolish. "Silly me, it's a Toyota compact. Never mind."
"It may yet come in handy for parts," Sharpe offered.
Andrea smiled, feeling a bit better.
Sakamoto stood up and called the Marines to attention. "You have your duty posts. Hop to it."
"Aye aye, Sergeant." The men snapped in unison. They dispersed to their respective locations. Those not assigned a post went about the house and yard and made sure the fortifications were as sound as possible.
At the front gate, Edmonds stared into the gathering gloom as Andrea slipped beside him. "I want to apologize for earlier," she said.
Edmonds gave a start at having been caught unawares. "When did you sneak up on me?"
"When your life depends on becoming a house-cat, you learn to be very quiet, very quick."
Edmonds considered the logic of Andrea's statement. "Apologize fo' what?"
"I thought you might be marauders. First week after everything went down, there was a gang that terrorized the survivors."
"You didn't recognize our uniforms?"
"Uniforms don't mean shit after the apocalypse," Andrea said sardonically. "Besides, when you pulled in, all I saw was the truck. I didn't want to stick around to see who crawled out of it. I hid in the toilet until I thought you were gone, but...well, you know the rest."
Edmonds chuckled softly. "It's not often someone gets the drop on ol' Shaun, so I congrat'yalate ya."
Andrea stared to the west as the sun sank into the sea. "We should be getting in. The dead are most dangerous at night."
Andrea led Edmonds into the house and sat in the corner. "Sit with me," she said. Edmonds scratched his head before turning to look at Davis. Davis gave a shrug and a nod. Assured, Edmonds sat beside Andrea.
"Where did you learn to fight?" Edmonds asked as he rubbed the back of his head.
"In L.A. there is...was...a studio near my house that taught kalis direct from the Philippines. James was the instructor's son, so I got a good deal. He protected me up to the very end."
Edmonds squirmed in the half-light. "I am not very good at dealing with these kinds of issues," he admitted.
"You're in the military, right?" Andrea asked. "You should be used to death."
"Yeah, but even among comrades, it's never very personow. We learn early to distance oursewves so it don't 'urt so much."
"Lucky for you," Andrea sniffed.
"You think, but it affects ev'rythink. Would you believe I was divowced...twice?"
"That's not so hard to imagine, actually," Andrea said. "Daddy was a soldier during 'Nam. Mom couldn't take it when he came back all messed up so she left."
Edmonds smirked at that. "Never'ad kids, maybe just a we'w."
"Where is your accent from, if I may ask?"
"Liverpoo'," Edmonds puffed his chest. "C'mon you Reds."
Andrea suppressed a giggle.
Davis watched the whole show from his vantage point by the door. He shook his head and wished the two of them luck. He then turned to Sakamoto.
"We have company," she whispered and pointed through a gap in the planking over the window. Sure enough, about ten of Them had gathered outside, wandering aimlessly in the general direction of the house. Davis keyed his mic.
"Noise control is in effect immediately," he whispered. "No unnecessary movement and no noise."
Sakamoto repeated the instruction to Clayton who signaled the thumbs up from his position near the kitchen door.
Andrea opened her mouth, but Edmonds held his finger to his lips before he primed his weapon and pointed out the window. She gripped her fighting stick tightly and stood leaning against the wall.
The defenders watched in horror as the crowd moved closer and seemed to grow in numbers. Davis signaled Edmonds to prepare for combat. Andrea, noticing this, tapped Edmonds on the shoulder. She leaned very close to his ear and whispered, "Give me five minutes."
Before he could stop her, Andrea slipped out the rear past Clayton and Nelson and through the back door. She checked her path to make sure it was clear before she hopped the fence and rounded the house next door.
Andrea stepped onto the pavement and ran silent as a cat to the house on the opposite corner. She gently opened the door and tapped on the doorframe. Hearing nothing within, she slipped into the front room and found the prize she sought. Turning the volume low, she held the radio to her ear to make sure the batteries still worked. Satisfied, she took the radio out of the house and into the yard.
Andrea could see the undead as They wandered blindly around the neighborhood. She froze as one passed within a meter of where she stood. The sweat dripped off her forehead and slicked her palms as the corpse slowly shuffled past her. She nearly lost grip on the radio's handle before she silently set it in the grass. Wiping her hands, she checked her approaches. Seeing only the crowd gathering near her shelter, she pumped her fists.
You can do this, Andrea. She cranked the volume to max and flipped the on switch. In an instant, dead heads turned in the direction of the new sound and Andrea dashed to the house directly across the lane. She repeated her entry procedure and moved into the house, only to be confronted by what used to be an old woman. Andrea swiftly whipped her stick across the temple and dropped the corpse. She backed against the wall near the doorframe, lest anything else be in the house.
One second. Ten seconds. Thirty. Satisfied she had dispatched the only occupant, Andrea crept toward the back, checking each room before she walked past. Her way clear, Andrea opened the back door, and quickly slammed it shut.
The pawing of undead hands on wood creeped her out. Not that way, she thought and sought an alternate route. She found a large window as she heard the back door splinter and give way. She landed on her feet as heavy footsteps plodded into the kitchen area.
Got to get back, she thought. He's worried sick by now.
The grass muffled her already quiet footsteps as she made the front yard in time to see the growing horde of undead gathering around the radio. Andrea hopped the short fence and dashed through front yards avoiding the street. She almost tripped on an overgrown root, but regained her footing in time to narrowly avoid colliding with the body of a young girl as it strained against the fence.
Andrea could see her shelter; only the street between her and the Marines within it. A camouflaged figure stood in the partially open door and waved her on. She ran forward with all her might and collided full on into Lance Corporal Edmonds as he enveloped his arms around her and quickly closed the door.
"You're late," he smirked. He held his watch to where Andrea could see it "You said five minutes, I have you back in 6 minutes 47. Work on that."
"Unforeseen circumstances," Andrea countered.
A/N: Again, the State wishes to thank Comrade Editors Draco38 and jm1681 for their efforts in this project.