Chapter Two
Parting the Sea
"*STATIC*, Viper Actual, this is Viper Nest, what's your status, over?"
"Uhh, we've got uhh, a large uhh, crowd of zulu whiskeys, bearing grid reference 593-921, over."
"Acknowledged Viper Actual, what's their bearing? Over."
"Uhh, it looks like, uhh, they're crowding around a uhh, tower block or something. Possible lima sierras, over."
"Understood Viper Actual, but please confirm the lima sierras, over."
"Affirmative Viper Nest, uhh, going in for uhh, closer look. Switching to infra-red, uhhh, hold the line Viper Nest, Viper Actual out." The sleek, insect-like silhouette of the Bell AH-1Z, operating out of nearby Scott Airfoce Base, descended from relative obscurity. Its twin engines thumped the airwaves, sending powerful torrents of man-made wind across the gathering horde of the dead. Captain Mike Ryans engaged his infra-red display, and felt a familiar chill ascend his spine. It was an odd thing, seeing so many people with his night vision scope, but virtually no heat signals when he applied infra-red. Certainly, it wasn't something the young career pilot was going to get used to anytime soon.
As always, it was the same story. They were all dead. Well, not dead, because they were walking around- but not alive either. No heat source, no vitals, nothing. None of this made damn sense to Ryans. But then, with his AH-1Z purring seductively in his ear, not a lot about any of this so called plague needed to make any sense... not with a full payload to throw its way, in any case.
He turned his attention away from the crowd, even as Captain Brian Crow jerked left and right nervously in the gunner's seat, and scanned the apartment building.
"Settle down there, Crow, we're just sight seeing," Mike said with his customary 'I don't give a damn about anything' cheer.
Captain Crow started muttering, "This is bull shit, there's a mob of them right below us, we could really fuck these thin-"
"Crow, shut the fuck up," Mike said stiffly, as he glimpsed heat signatures flashing by the building's windows, running vertical to where he assumed the stairs would be. "Hold on a second, would ya? You'll get your chance to shoot."
"Uhh, Viper Nest, this is Viper Actual, you still there? Over."
"Affirmtive Viper Actual, what's the sit-rep? Over."
"That's a green light on the, uhh, lima seirras, over."
"Understood Viper Actual, what's your count? Over."
"Uhhh, hard to say, uhhh, maybe a five-six? I don't, uhh, I don't know. Definitely alive, though, over."
"Viper Actual, how many zulu whiskeys, over?"
"Uhhh, Viper Nest I'm counting about two centuries, uhhhhh, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, over."
"Understood Viper Actual, you have the green light to engage, over."
"FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"Viper Actual, this is Viper Nest, please repeat your last call, over." Mike grabbed a pen from his chest pouch, and lobbed it at the back of Crow's flight helmet. "Shut the fuck up, Crow. There's a war going on, if you haven't noticed. That childish shit wont get us anywhere. Stay off the airwaves."
Crow ignored him, as he started dialling in his firing solutions. "Yeah, yeah. Firing in three."
***
The street outside the Three Towers Apartment Complex's lobby disappeared under a bright orange glow, immediately before the shock wave from a AGM-114 Hellfire missile tore into the building, shattering glass and rupturing window frames. The Stage Ones and Twos that were unfortunate enough not to be inside, were thrown thirty feet into the air, whilst those nearer the explosion's epicentre were outright vaporised. Those further out however, were merely knocked down, and were soon back on their feet to resume their pursuit, though they were entirely tolerant of the helicopter's presence.
The horde started to regain shape, the hole blown through its centre forgotten within minutes. There were then several screeching noises, akin to the sound of fireworks, before the street was once again consumed in flame. The AH-1Z had unleashed both its rocket pods, blanket bombing the thickest part of the horde.
When the dead started to regroup once more, the front of the AH-IZ spewed forth further destruction with its mounted 20 mm M197 3-barreled Gatling cannon. The result was devastating, as Captain Crow raked the area from left to right, and back again, decapitating anything that moved. When the bird's ammo ran dry, it withdrew as promptly as it had arrived, leaving a smouldering, flaming wreck where a street once stood.
The horde had been utterly obliterated, leaving only a few stragglers outside to crawl around on bloodied stumps. Those who had already made it into the lobby however, were far from harm's way, and they continued their mindless pursuit of those who dwelled on the upper levels.
