Chapter 57: The Runway
1 HOUR UNTIL FAILSAFE
Beneath the red sky, the ragtag remnants of the Newburg regiment rearguard made their last stand. With most of the airfield a wasteland of wreckages, debris and corpses, all of their defences were now concentrated around the only remaining runway which was clear. Thus, it was the only place where there was room for a C-130 Hercules carrier aircraft to land and extract them from this hell.
The regiment had once been a proud and strong unit of seasoned, battle-hardened men, but a solid week of battle against the Infected and seeing friends die had worn them down. Now, with the majority of the unit having been successfully extracted, only Captain Williams and a handful of weary soldiers remained, cowering behind makeshift barricades of containers, vans and airport vehicles.
"Infected closing in from the east side of the airfield!" a soldier yelled.
"All batteries, standby to open fire on my mark," Williams ordered into his radio, turning toward a large horde charging across the field toward them. Their angered screams filled the air. "Mark."
As one, the line of M2 machine-gun emplacements unleashed a roaring mass of flame and bullets that reduced the forerunners to bloody pulps. Heads and limbs flew as bodies were all but torn apart by the absolutely devastating hail of gunfire.
"We got another group of creepers coming in from the terminal!" a soldier called, peering through the scope of his sniper rifle. "Hang on a minute... Sir! I think they're civilians!"
"What?" The eternal frown that marred Williams' face momentarily faded as a look of pure shock took its place. Could it be the group from the hotel? He had not been expecting them to make it. "Hold your fire, goddamn it!" he growled to several of his troops who had the motley crew lined up in their sights. "They're friendlies!"
Bill gasped with exertion as he limped across the runway, helped along by Francis and Louis. Gunshots rang out as Zoey trained her pistol on anything that came too close to them for comfort. She froze in horror when a crowd of people emerged from behind the shell of a crashed plane.
However, a line of lights flashed in the distance, and the air was filled with whistling and meaty THWACKS as bullets slammed into their attackers, felling them all in an instant.
"There's the army!" Louis exclaimed, filled with euphoria. "Ha ha! We made it!"
The ever-encroaching lines of the Infected continued to appear all over the runway, but fortunately, with help from the soldiers in the distance, Zoey was able to keep them at bay as they made their way across no-man's land.
"Holy shit!" a hoarse voice called out. "I never expected you people to make it!"
"You have no idea what we went through to get here," Francis grunted at the soldier who had come over to greet them as they helped Bill over to the far side of the barricades to the airport terminal. Dark trees stood in the distance at the edge of the runway.
"I got some notion," he replied briskly. "I'm Captain Williams."
"I'm glad your boys were able to hold the line," Bill gasped, pain shooting through his body as his compatriots gently lowered him into a seated position on one of the metal containers that made up the barricades.
"Well, it hasn't been easy, and it's only getting harder," Williams replied as he gestured to the wasteland around them. "We were pushed right back, and the Infected have been trying to storm this place for the past day or so. We've been able to hold them off so far, but we're running low on ammo, and the gunshots are only drawin' in more of the bastards." He took a closer look at the older man and noticed the bandages wrapped across his chest under his blue shirt. "You alright?"
"He got buried in some rubble a little while ago, but we got him out quickly," Louis answered. "Some of his ribs are busted up – either bruised or broken."
"Shit," the soldier breathed, motioning the company's medic over. "Crush syndrome is what you ought to be worried about. Those bindings around his chest are tight?" When he received a ginger nod in response, he turned to the medic. "Grab some saline packs and get some fluids into him, pronto."
"Is he going to be okay?" Zoey asked, barely keeping her voice calm.
"Well, the fact that you removed the pressure quickly is good," the medic replied as he rummaged around in his field pack. "And a lack of numbness is a good sign. For now, the best we can do is to keep the pressure on his chest and replace his fluids – several litres per day would be ideal, but this seems to be a fairly mild case."
"Tell that to my fuckin' body," Bill grumbled, wincing in pain as the medical officer washed away some of the blood on his face. He was then handed a canteen of water and a small bag filled with the little plastic bottles.
"Once the water's gone, you'll have to drink all of these over the next few hours."
For his part, Louis was stocking up on ammunition from the garrison and reloading his M-16 rifle. "We'll stay here and keep an eye on our man," he said to Williams, who nodded in agreement.
"Keep him out of the way. The Infected are coming in mostly from the airport and the direction of the city. You three watch our six and make sure nothing sneaks up on us. I'll bring the rearguard forward to help us cover the front." He made his way toward the frontlines, but, as an afterthought, turned back toward the group. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you folk made it."
Louis nodded in acknowledgement, and the soldier turned and made his way back to his men. Francis whistled as he hoisted the Colt M4 carbine.
"Well, ladies, in a little bit, we're gonna be flyin' First Class to the nearest Safe Zone. They'd better serve alcohol on this flight."
Zoey spared a glance down at the slumped form of Bill sitting on the crate before gripping her pistol tighter. "We can't relax. Not yet. We have to watch the back and protect the soldiers while they protect us. We're all in this together now."
30 MINUTES UNTIL FAILSAFE
The thunder of the soldiers' guns could be heard from all ends of the runway, firing constantly as the Infected emerged from the shadows and flowed like a wave. The soldiers grit their teeth, gunfire crackling across the air as they sought to hold back the ever-increasing horde of killers coming for them. With no purpose but to end their very existence.
The M2 emplacements spat flame and empty casings, filling the air with smoke and blood. All around, men drew beads on the Infected and brought them down with expert precision. As one fired, another reloaded. Their numbers were small and ever-diminishing, but the Newburg rearguard was a well-oiled machine of death dealing, their skills honed by a week-long battle in hell.
On their side of the battlefield, Francis, Louis and Zoey held back the Common Infected that threatened to flank the barricades. Despite the situation, the hardened young woman would pause occasionally to check on Bill.
"I'm fine, goddamn it, now keep on shooting!" he growled in response.
The attackers continued to fall in droves, but more were fast approaching, bearing down on the desperate survivors' defences. Something had to give. They would not hold out forever, and unless they were evacuated soon, they would surely be overwhelmed.
Almost as if on cue, hope filled everyone's hearts as one of the soldiers sighted the lights of an incoming aircraft in the dark smoke-filled sky. The C-130 Hercules touched down on the far side of the runway that they had managed to keep (mostly) clear, roaring toward them.
"Get ready to move!" Francis shouted over the deafening gunfire. He could already see several soldiers breaking position and moving toward the place where the aircraft was slowing and preparing to lower its rear ramp.
At that moment, an ear-splitting roar resonated through the air. Zoey looked back, and her blood ran cold.
There, standing at the far end of the airport terminal, was a gargantuan figure, covered in blood. It was all too familiar, and just as terrifying, despite the injuries it had sustained.
The Tank was not dead.
It had survived the rock fall. And now, it had come for them.
"Look out!" she cried, waving her arms as she ran toward the plane in a vain effort to get the soldiers' attention.
The majority of them were getting into position near the carrier aircraft to cover each other as they boarded the rear ramp when it came down. The former college girl rushed forward past the barricades, but was stopped short when she felt someone grab her arm. She looked to see Francis shaking his head at her.
"Stay away from that plane, Zoey," he said, his voice toneless. "The noise those propellers are makin', they might as well be ringin' a damn dinner bell."
"But we have to do something!" she cried, sparing a glance back at the Tank. "That thing's going to destroy them!"
Before anything more could be said, however, another bellowing roar echoed across the tarmac. Bullets whistled through the air as several soldiers near the plane began to fire at the monster and the surrounding Infected, but hardly a dent was made in their ranks.
Then, to everyone's absolute horror, the gargantuan figure lifted up a huge boulder from the rubble and hurled it at the aircraft. Time seemed to slow as the rock flew through the air. The C-130 Hercules caved as the boulder smashed right through its midsection, crumpling like a tin can.
A moment later, a huge fireball lit up the sky. A deafening roar echoed across the runway as the plane exploded. The shriek of rending metal pierced everyone's ears, and the very ground seemed to shake.
"Holy shit!"
Flaming wreckage was blasted out across the runway, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The Infected howled in unison as they closed in, with the Tank leading the charge. The monster trampled its lesser brethren or hurled them unceremoniously aside in its rampage.
A number of surviving soldiers taking cover behind the remaining barricades opened fire on the behemoth as it charged, but nothing seemed to even slow it down. It ploughed through their ranks like a battering ram, and their screams soon filled the air. Like a dark tide, the figures of the Infected swept through the shattered defences, and it was not long before all gunfire had ceased.
The four other survivors looked on, absolutely powerless to do anything to help.
In the end, Bill urged them to get down low, before the Infected in the distance spotted them.
Zoey's breaths came out in ragged gasps as bile rose up in her throat at the shock of seeing all those men slaughtered like cattle.
The terrifying reality of the situation hit her a moment later.
All of their allies were dead.
They were completely surrounded by the Infected.
Trapped in a city, which, in less than fifteen minutes, was going to explode.