Arisen, Book Four - Maximum Violence by James Glynn & Fuchs Michael Stephen

Author:James, Glynn & Fuchs, Michael Stephen [James, Glynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: fast zombies, Increment, high-tech weapons, serial fiction, SOF, Special Operations, spec-ops, techno-thriller, SAS, dystopian fiction, naval adventure, Horror, Hereford, Zombies, SEAL Team Six, Delta Force, Military, supercarrier, zombie apocalypse
Publisher: Glynn James & Michael Stephen Fuchs
Published: 2013-06-13T04:00:00+00:00

Zulu Jihadi

Beaver Island

“Two extra sets of hands,” Fick corrected the mechanic, as the two of them hunkered down near the tail of the bomber, and in the eye of their own coalescing storm of the dead. “You’re also gonna need security, while you do the refueling. Hang on.”

Fick ducked under the wing of the plane, went down further under the fuselage, stuck his torso up the belly hatch, and hauled himself inside. Ten seconds later, he had the co-pilot out and on the deck. The man carried his flight helmet – which he hastily put back on as soon as he heard all the gunfire and saw the dead running around in the middle distance.

“Captain,” Fick said, addressing the co-pilot by rank. “You’ll know your ass from your elbow in an airport refueling depot, right? Good. Kindly assist Stan here. Reyes – you pull security.”

“Roger that,” the big Marine answered.

“What about Bill?” the co-pilot asked – referring to the lead pilot, and presumably his buddy. He looked like he wanted the company and moral support.

“Negative,” Fick said. “He stays buttoned up inside. Somebody who knows how to fly this bird has got to stay alive, or none of us are ever getting off this crapsack island.”

The co-pilot started to mumble something about not really considering himself expendable, but Fick didn’t wait around to entertain further objections. Instead, he turned and ran back toward the control tower, checking his watch on the way. The chaos was growing all around them – thicker volleys of gunshots, shouts from Graybeard and Brady as they coordinated fires, the dead coming in heavier and from more directions.

Fick didn’t understand this, and he needed to. The whole point of putting Alpha’s rendezvous point (RVP) here was that the island wasn’t supposed to be occupied by very many dead. Their pre-mission intel work-up had the permanent population of the entire island at six-hundred and something. If that was so, they’d already seen a quarter of them, just in their first twenty minutes on the ground.

It made no sense.

Fick leapt powerfully up the stairs of the tower, belying his forty-two years and sixty pounds of combat load, and reached the top level panting slightly. He stalked across the wreckage of the room, knelt down, and stuck his face in the Canadian prisoner’s.

“Okay,” he said. “Who the hell are you? And what’s the story with this goddamned island?”

* * *

Over at the fueling point, using his seemingly all-purpose adjustable wrench, Stan got the hand pump rigged up to the main line coming from the underground fuel tank. While he did so, the co-pilot, following instructions, had started connecting lengths of fueling hose, while trying to stay as close to the others as possible. Reyes watched the whole operation from over his rifle optic, occasionally taking single shots, or small groupings, at lurching figures coming around the various buildings or out of the treeline. Some of them were close enough that the work team could smell their stench. And the bodies were starting to pile up, evenly dotting the landscape.

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