They'd been traveling not ten minutes when Brownie heard the first mortar round explode off in the distance.
“What the hell was that?” he said.
“Looks like the commies have started their attack,” Capozza said, gazing through the periscope.
Brownie climbed up out the hatch to get a better look. Flames engulfed one of the Humvees that had been following in the rear. To the south he saw a puff of smoke whirling out the barrel of one of the Chinese tanks. He swiveled around and looked behind them and noticed a caravan of Chinese military vehicles approaching from a mile away. He couldn't believe they'd been attacked on two fronts. Another missile exploded just off the roadside and the neat formation they'd travelled in quickly became separated. Brownie looked back at the burning Humvee and saw one of his fellow soldiers crawling out of the wreckage, his clothes in flames and revealing his blackened, bubbling skin. Before he had a chance to react, three zombies converged on the burning soldier and began tearing off his smoking flesh in long strips. Brownie leaned over and vomited onto the hot metal before climbing back inside.
“You want to get your head blown off, asshole? Stay inside this vehicle from now on.”
“It's crazy out there, man. A total cluster fuck.”
“Without radio support we have no way of communicating with the other guys.”
“We've got to get out of here, Poze, before we're next. Let's get this tin can moving, bro.”
“Too much smoke out there to see where we're going.”
Something bumped into them from behind, jerking them forward. Another explosion rocked nearby, rattling the Stryker and the ground beneath them.
“What're we playing, bumper cars?”
“Dude, we don't leave this stretch of road we're going to catch one of them missiles on our heads,” Brownie said.
“Can't see anything because of the smoke? Where the hell is Townsend?”
“Fuck Townsend. We'll meet up with him later. Bet their caravan is ahead of us, anyways. We stay here, Poze, we're sitting ducks.”
“Peking duck is more like it.”
“Save your damn Chinese jokes for later, dawg.”
Another missile exploded nearby, causing the Stryker to once again rock back and forth.
“Shit! That one was too close for comfort. Move over, man, I'm gonna drive this rig if you won't.”
“Fuck off, soldier. You heard Townsend. He threatened to shoot anyone who went AWOL. I'm going to drive around first and see if we can't meet up with him.”
“Forget you, man. We need to get to safety first.”
“We disobey Townsend and we're as good as dead.”
“You saw what he did to those two soldiers, Poze. That heartless dude would leave us behind in a heartbeat in order to save his own ass.”
“I'm ordering you to stay put, soldier.”
“You pulling rank on me, bro?”
“Bet your ass I am.”
Brownie removed the pistol out of his holster. Grabbing it by the barrel, he turned and pistol-whipped his partner in the head. Capozza fell unconscious to the floor, a large knot beginning to form on his buzzed scalp.
“Sorry, Poze, but you'll thank me later. Or maybe you won't. Don't matter now, ‘cause I'm pulling rank by the barrel of a gun.”
Brownie took control of the vehicle and maneuvered it through the smoke and past a disabled Stryker just in front of him. Black smoke streamed out of the hatch. Staring through the periscope, he saw two of his fellow soldiers quickly scamper out. They looked disoriented and confused, and to his dismay they climbed down off the LAV and onto the pavement, coughing uncontrollably and seemingly unaware of their surroundings. A swarm emerged out of the haze and began to head toward them. Brownie steered the big rig toward the two soldiers, hoping to pick them up, but they staggered in the opposite direction and disappeared into the murky cloud. Continuing to search for them, he emerged out the other side of the smoke screen only to witness the two soldiers getting overrun over by the horde, their gutted teeth sinking into the soft flesh of their necks. He fired off a round and blew away a flank. The two mortally wounded soldiers stood warily to their feet and began to stagger to his Stryker, but Brownie realized it had been too late; blood dripped from bite wounds on their necks and faces, indicating that they'd already been infected. Resigned to what needed to be done, he lowered the gun, trying not to focus on their anguished expressions. He tried to convince himself that it was in their own best interest but still found it a difficult sell. He closed his eyes and blasted them out of their misery, ensuring that they'd not turn into the living dead.
The gusts outside started to blow smoke across the road. The landscape looked ominous and frightening and the trees along the road were bending furiously in the wind. Thousands of zombies appeared out of nowhere, as if they'd been waiting the entire time. He didn't care about finding Townsend now, nor could he see any evidence of the other troops. Rather than stay and fight, Brownie accelerated the Stryker westward on 84. Missiles began to explode along the side of the road. The ground rattled and shook but he kept the LAV on pace. He swiveled the periscope to the southwest and noticed an odd cloud formation beginning to develop in the atmosphere. It looked like one of those giant twisters he used to see on the Weather Channel. He cussed at his bad luck. As if he didn't have enough shit to worry about.
A mile down the road he came across a large gathering of the dead pushing and fighting to get at something in the middle of their scrum. An overturned Humvee lay smoking, its wheels spinning and the engine still idling. It was one of the two advance recon vehicles Townsend had sent. Chunks of rotting, steaming flesh lay scattered across the road. Two zombies stood off to the side, fighting over what looked to be a marrow laden leg bone. Pulpy skin bits hung from the marbled surface. Others gripped mineral rich organs and tendons. Brownie accelerated the vehicle through the horde, crushing as many as possible. The Stryker rocked from side to side as it rammed into the swarm still feeding on his fellow soldiers. He traversed them until he came to a clearing in the road. Gray smoke drifted across and obscured his vision. His heart galloped in his chest as he waited for the next calamity to strike. A bone-crackling explosion went off; a mortar round landed smack dab in the middle of the horde he'd just passed. Body parts rained down on the road all around him.
Once the smoke cleared, he had a better view of the road ahead. Apart from the usual pile of old cars and trucks, the highway looked clear and passable. He begged for God's blessing as he kept them on course, ramming into any of the dead who stumbled in his path. Everywhere he looked he saw trees swaying from the tremendous force of the storm winds. He kept the Stryker moving until he reached a quiet stretch of road obscured by dense woods. Small objects got swept off the road and peppered the LAV’s metal surface, making it sound as if it was getting hit by machine gun fire. Exhausted, he lifted his hands off the controls and noticed that they were shaking.
What do I do now? he thought as he stared down at Capozza, who was stirring on the floor.
The winds outside began to pick up again and the Stryker, unbelievably enough, began to rock in the gusts. Brownie collected himself and kept the vehicle moving. It climbed a hilly portion of the interstate until it reached the top. Once he arrived there he could clearly make out the massive twister spinning across the landscape. He climbed out the hatch and directed his gaze at the western portion of the interstate and saw two eighteen-wheelers and an Army Humvee heading westward on Interstate 84. It had to be the survivors. But how had they gotten control of the Humvee? Unless Townsend had reached the survivors first. The angry twister spun across the land and appeared to be on a crash course with the small band of survivors hell-bent on escaping.
Without warning the ground shook. Brownie held onto the sides of the hatch for support. At first he thought it a mortar round but then he didn't hear any explosion. The rumbling continued for a few seconds until it finally occurred to him that this was an earthquake. He'd felt a few in his life, growing up in Tacoma, the largest being a six-point-eight when he was a little kid in school.
He accelerated the Stryker down the hill. His only shot at surviving now would be to catch up to the three vehicles. He would follow them wherever. If this ragtag band of outlaws could outrun and outfox both Chinese and American Troops, a massive twister and the living dead, maybe they were far more resourceful than he initially believed. What other choice did he have? If he returned back to his unit he might come face to face with Townsend, in which case he'd be charged with going AWOL and executed on the spot. No, he'd broken irretrievably from Townsend's command and couldn't ever go back.
“I ought to kick your ass,” Capozza said, standing uneasily to his feet. “What the hell'd you do that for?”
“Trust me, dude, after what I seen out there you'll be thanking my ass. And for your information I'm in charge of this rig now.”
“Like hell you are.”
“We broke away from the others, Poze, and are now on our own. You got a problem with that you can drop it in the suggestion box right next to the pistol pointed at your head.”
“You better be right about this, Brownie,” he said, collapsing into his seat.
“I am, bro,” he said, cracking him upside the head again.