I recommend giving Fort Jefferson a nice tour.

Chapter 22: Apnea Obstructiva

"Men,"

The bullhorn once again rang. Every ground unit, busy or not, was up to attention. They might not have stopped moving, but they were listening.

"I understand that the past hour or so has been the worst news you've heard in months." Captain Bailey felt a tight fit in his throat. However, he must continue. "There may be no help coming. There may not even be a United States Military for us to belong to any longer."

He took a deep sight. In his office were only him and two men he didn't know, but they seemed to be looking at him for directions regardless. They had faith, and so must he.

"Times are looking grim, and we're facing an enemy with immense number and resilience. They are coming in hordes, unlike anything we've ever dealt with before. Your beliefs are shaken, and so are you." A desk slam was subsequently heard. "But we shall not falter. If we have to be the last bastion of hope for the nation, we shall. With us are refugees – civilians – under our care. We shall be protect the seeds of hope, for a better tomorrow."

A long pause. It would've been nothing but silence in the wind, if not for the growls of the approaching wave of infected.

"Even if we fail, gentlemen." Bailey dropped his mic back on the desk. "It was an honour to die by your side."

A rain of applause.

…

"Zoey…"

She opened her eyes. It seemed that she drifted off for a moment there. Looking around, the girl saw no one but the Witch who carried her here. It was a strange feeling, but not unfamiliar.

"Hey Cindy," She was recovering fine. Her arm was still unusable, but she was not losing any blood, nor was she ever injured elsewhere. Her battle effectiveness, however, was far below par, losing her dominant limb. "Where's the nurse?"

"He left. He was called for." Cindy was sitting right there at her bedside, as if waiting to respond to her every whim. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough." Zoey had a pained smile on her face. She didn't like this situation, no one did. Being relegated to the side due to her own incompetence was never something she quite enjoyed, even if people around her would not tell that story the same way. "The last time I was bed-ridden I think every bone in my body was broken, and you nursed me back to health. I'm glad you're still here."

"I'll always be here." Cindy placed her hand atop Zoey's. If she had any discernible fingers left, she would have liked to wrap them around instead. Unfortunately, in her own views, her grotesque body could never be able to accomplish something like that. "I'll never leave you."

"Actually, I would have liked you to be out there, fighting with Francis and Louis, who could definitely use you help. Problem is, none of the people on our side would be able to tell you apart from the ones they were supposed to fight." Zoey laughed half-heartedly. She glanced at her arm, only to see it drowned in bandages. She couldn't even move the fingers on her right hand, and it meant that perhaps she would never be able to again. "That's what I'd like to say but… I'm a selfish girl."

"What do you mean?" Cindy noticed Zoey's hand on her wrist. The grip wasn't strong, more longing than strength. "Zoey?"

"I just want to be here, and to have you with me." Zoey lightly turned to her side. "Forget about the killing out there. For the moment, just stay."

…

"We have enemies in sight, Captain." Bailey stared out his window. "Permission to open fire."

"Fire at will."

The officer left his office. Bailey grabbed the rifle. He was going to be a part of this no matter what. Since the soldiers had to defend themselves, it meant that the half-finished fort will soon transform to a battlefield. Constant sounds of firearms would mean that there were no escape from this fight, as the horde below them – and those that would come after – needed to be killed, not be dissipated.

To his side, laid Captain Washington's lifeless body. The man was a good leader in tough times, but he always had a problem with authority. To be precise, he could never stand anyone else being in charge but him. Most other Seal Teams had been moved overseas to help with operations abroad, but Washington alone got this entire platoon to stay here on shore. As the infection hit, whoever was left on, and off, duty located on the Keys were rounded here. All those who turned were quickly dispatched of, leaving behind only a hundred or so soldiers that seemed to be resisting the infection.

Sighing, Bailey left the office. Louis and Francis had went to the front lines long before, and it was time for him to join them.

…

"Sir, the gate is under heavy pressure. Infected tank units are focusing on the structural weakness."

"Have the rockets been prepared yet?"

"Yes, sir, but we will not have time to mount them before…"

The officer could not finish his sentence, as a Smoker's tongue wrapped around his neck and ripped it away.

Bailey immediately got under cover. They were losing too many men to special infected, since most of their fire is aimed at delaying the horde. However, the more they tried the more it looked like the front flank was getting overwhelmed. As soon as the Tank finished destroying the entrance, there will be a flood of infected straight into the yard.

"Lieutenant." Bailey, from the front wall, radioed in. "Get the rocketeers down the training yard. Everyone else moves up the higher level."

"Sir, the refugees are starting to panic. They might hurt themselves if not properly attended to."

"Fine, take a squad to the cells, and lock it down." There was no tunnel beneath the dirt, but it was their best chance of survival, provided this battle ended it victory. Otherwise the holding cells would be a death trap, but that's the last thing to worry about. "Do not come up unless you are sure things have cleared out."

"Yes sir!"

The gates were half down if nothing else. Soon the lower level will be immediately overrun. People on the wall were losing the ground battle at an alarming rate. Even in this situation, he knew that it was possible to make it still. Strategically speaking, he could not retreat, so fighting was the only thing they could do regardless. However, the enemy number may be great, but not endless. There were only so many people to even turn infected in the first place around this island group, and even if the majority of the remaining horde was drawn here, positional advantage meant that his men could take the fight one to one hundred if they needed to. With that in mind, Bailey ran towards the backline, awaiting to sound the retreat order from the front wall and to higher grounds.

"Hey!"

"Yeah?"

"I haven't felt this alive since the jukebox puking incident."

"What's that?"

"Amazing!"

Francis was allowed to men the Gatling. It reminded him of his time on the rooftop of his favourite run-down bar in town, blasting away zombies after zombies without a care in the world. Louis was right beside him, aiding fire and covering their rear. They had no radio unit, so they didn't take order from the Captain, but they could tell what was going on by the movements of the squadrons.

"You never told me what happened after you left your old group." Louis bellowed, but still half of his question was drowned out by the shriek of gunfire. "How did you find your way to Philly?"

"Ah that's an easy one." Bullets were being sprayed everywhere. "My bike died and I had to go on foot for a while. I was running out of booze too, so I decided to crash at this abandoned-looking hotel."

"The one that we found you at?" Catching a breath every reload.

"Yeah! First time I ever heard the old man I thought it was a zombie yelling at me or something." He was not letting go of the trigger until this entire gun ran out of ammunition. "Scared the shit out of me when he just kicked in the door and started aiming rifle scopes everywhere."

"He freaked me out to, first time we met. Good thing I hid the bite on my arm, else he probably would have shot me." Louis lightly rubbed the side of his left arm. During his first encounter with an infected, it took a chunk out of him. Fortunately, it didn't make him turn, but anyone else would have disagreed.

"I would have shot you too, honest." They both glared at each other, smiling. "Still would."

"Well, good thing you have all of these to massacre instead." Louis started firing again.

"Hell yeah,"

Whatever else, their voices were muffled amongst that of panic.

Holes in the wall had been breached, and the barricade at the gate were crushed. The infected number was waning rapidly, but that was the easy part. Firing at a sea of targets all funnelling through a dirt walkway was easy, but preventing them from getting up stairs and jumping on top of people were the true test.

Once in a while, a cry of someone being dragged away by a Hunter was heard.

"Fire!" Radioed Bailey.

The rockets were unleashed straight onto the upcoming tank, knocking them back and dealing significant damage. One was dead, but the other three were ready to shake it up.

"Fire in the hole!" A multitude of grenades and molotovs were thrown out to the yard. They erupted and lit the entire bulk of the horde on fire, as well as the rest of the soldiers who could not retreat in time.

Not a moment to celebrate victory, infected were climbing up openings from the outside and coming in from behind. The entire platoon was trapped atop the stairs, and spread out among the entire fort. Bailey cursed at the wind. This was a compromising position, but it became like this not because he could not see this turn of events coming, but because there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it.

Soon enough, they would no longer have a positional advantage. If a real fight breaks out, it would be all up to close quarter shooting. However, friendly fire at this point would be almost inevitable. It was going to be bloody no matter how he looked at it.

Yet they kept on, clinging to the hope that they may survive until tomorrow.

…

"Zoey."

"I know." Zoey rose up from the bed. The gate had just been busted open, and whether she wanted to or not she was going to be a part of this battle. Still, it was almost a laughable notion, as she could not even get out of this bed without help. Losing her arm, and not having enough time to get used to it, seriously hampered her effective. "Cindy, you have to stay here."

"You're not going out there alone, are you?" The Witch was ready to protest. She knew the difference between strength between the two of them right now. If she wanted, she could easily stop Zoey from ever leaving the bed. "You're in no condition to fight still!"

"What will happen if I don't go, Cindy?" Zoey no longer had a smile on her face. She wouldn't have actually minded Cindy following her outside, but the problem with the Witch being mistaken as an enemy was still very real. It was hard enough to explain it to the nurse earlier, and it was only because of an emergency. If Cindy ran out the open right now she would be the target of so many firing squads. "Staying here would do nothing if we lost the fight outside."

"I'll protect you!"

"If only that were possible." Zoey, deep inside, knew that it was indeed possible. If Cindy had just stayed and blocked the door, and she would keep quiet, it was a very good chance that the horde itself will disperse in time, as long as there were no Tanks left. However, to abandon for her own survival would be giving up whatever was left of her sense of humanity. Her other two teammates could die out there and she would still be here, on this bed, curled up in a ball of cowardice. "They have a saying: there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

"Are you saying that you have to be brave?"

"No, I'm saying that I have to be stupid." Those words stunned Cindy. She could do nothing but let the girl off the bed, and get the one good hand on a pistol. "I'm not going to go looking for a fight. I wanted to defend this fort, but if that's not possible, we'll cut our losses. These soldiers mean nothing to us, but I have to find Francis and Louis."

"What do you plan to do once you found them?"

"If we could fight, we fight." Zoey let out a sigh. She said fight, but this pistol wasn't going to do much, and without something to shove the zombie away once they did get close, her chances of being effective were slim. "If we couldn't, us four will hole up in a room somewhere and wait for everything to die down."

"And I'm supposed to just sit here?"

"I'd like you to." It was awfully hard to cock a gun with one hand. "Unless something happens."

"Like what?" Cindy was both worried and conflicted. On one hand, she could prevent this all from happening, on the other she understood that Zoey knew what was best.

"If I were ever in real danger," Zoey bent down and kissed the Witch on the cheeks. She proceeded to display the most genuine smile she could muster. "I know you'll come and save me. You always do."

…

"Left wing, come in!"

"Captain, our position had been overran. We're moving to the barracks."

"Copy that, left wing." Bailey shut off communications and focus on firing at the infected. They had been holding their positions, albeit not very successfully.

"Captain-man," Francis had regrouped with the bulk of the military squadron. The Gatling he had earlier had already ran out of bullets, and he was relegated to an old fashion shotgun. This was civilian grade, and perhaps not as effective, but he worked it best. "How are we holding up?"

"At this rate, we may actually kill enough of them before we're all dead." It was a very generous estimate, but Seal Team 7 had done nothing but surprised him before. Bailey had full faith that his team will try their hardest, whether or not that'd be enough was up to fate. "Their threat level decreases exponentially the more they are killed."

"Want to say something a little less obvious, Captain?" The biker noticed a pack approaching. They were being led. "Boomer!"

Shoving the swollen mass of flesh down the stairs, he shot it open as it rolled down. The explosion staggered quite a few infected, but also the people surrounding. Some even had bile on them, attracting more enemies. It was not a pretty execution, but it was the best he got.

"Where's your friend?"

"Louis is holding the holes in the wall." Another shot fired at very close range.

"Think he can do it?" It was an important job.

"He's a tough mother, that guy." Francis had an unbearable grin on his face, but no one was there to notice. "Don't tell him I said that though."

"If I lived."

…

Zoey was now standing in the Captain's office. This place was close to the infirmary and relatively isolated. She didn't mind leaving Cindy alone, since the Witch had shown in the past that other infected usually had very little interest in her, which worked out great. What Zoey needed to do was to keep quiet and lay low. She could not help with combat, so perhaps something in here may be able to aid their survival efforts.

She did not miss Washington's corpse laid over on the side, and was starting to smell. She held in a serious urge to deliver a swift kick to his retched face. Regardless, her time was better used elsewhere.

Rummaging through the files, she found transcripts of telecommunications with the outside. Just as the Captain himself had confessed earlier, it had been months since they had received any official orders or reach from any channel at all. In fact, the last it happened was around a few weeks before Zoey and her group reached Western Pennsylvania.

According to the transcripts, the situation was getting rapidly worse, something that had become quite obvious at this point. In addition to that, CEDA had completely fallen over and had been taken control of by the military. The evacuations sites stopped reporting in one by one, with only a handful of successful ones arriving at bases. 'Camp Echo', where they were supposed to be brought to, was at that point a desolate Evacuation Outpost. The northern states had also started to turn into black zones, and are expected to fall within weeks.

This was three months ago. Simply put, as long as they were staying in the country, there was nowhere to run.

She did, however, find a map of Fort Jefferson itself. From what it looked like, the place was heavily reconstructed after the military occupation. If she could, she would have been fine with jumping out to sea and hide underwater for a while. Then again, this entire place was surrounded by beaches, and there was no way she was getting to the water without having to meet quite a few enemies.

There was nothing left for her here. There was no smart way out this time. Either they kill all the infected and survive, or she cut her losses and pull her team out. Either way, she needed to find them first.

There was little opposition during her navigation, as she didn't run guns blazing, instead mostly trying to shove and stick to the walls, minimising the noise she made. As she found her way upwards, Zoey realised that the group upstairs were holding the pathway, and if she walked up she would very easily be shot down by mistake. All other paths that could be walked up upon should be blocked by soldiers as well, and she couldn't afford to make noise in order to communicate.

Frankly speaking, she was stranded.

She could always turn back, but that was out of the question. Her teammates up there needed to know of the plan, and she needed to know what Bailey thought of their fighting chance. From this angle, it was impossible to observe the fight from the ground level, as well as on the other side. Numbers on both sides were thinning out, but perhaps the infected aren't dying fast enough. With the gate down, Hunters and Smoker roamed everywhere, and was extremely dangerous.

"Tank!"

Screamed someone from the upper floor. Sure enough, she saw the behemoths climbing up the wall from the outside. The worst part was, amidst all the confusion, she didn't realise how close one of them was to her. In fact, it was set to be going straight up for the squad right above.

"Get back." Another scream. People were scattering from that position. It was difficult, as there were infected climbing up and the Tank on the same level. It was impossible for them to kite him around without sufficient mobility.

They were doomed.

The concrete around her was shaking, and she had nothing but a pistol in her good hand. She gripped it with all her might, ran forward.