Free Even Zombie Killers Get The Blues (Zombie Killer Blues) by John Holmes Page A

war. I know you couldn’t
have gotten in there, and there should have been a predator over flight. Not
that we can get them anymore. We’ve got one of the 47s sitting down outside to
take off the refugees here once we do a full count and assess their medical
condition. Here, let me give you a hand up.” He pulled me to my feet, where I
stood a bit shakily for a second. Then I took a deep breath and walked out into
the night air, into a scene from hell.
    A good quarter mile to the south of me was the
burning wreckage of the CH-47. No one came close because onboard ammunition was
starting to cook off, sending rounds through the air. To my left, the jail was
burning in several places, including the shattered towers. The devastated truck
at the front entrance had burned itself out except for the tires, but a cloud
of acrid smoke drifted off into the night. As I watched, one of the CH-47s
lifted from the courtyard and headed Southwest, back towards Albany, escorted
by one of the Apaches. There went most of Charlie Company, along with their
wounded. I hoped the wounded would make it.
    Captain Davis came up next to me and watched it go,
and in a minute, Doc was standing next to us, and gave us an update.
    “We have fourteen dead, another twelve wounded, forty-two
unwounded. Mostly women and children. Could have been worse, Nick.”
    I knew he meant that it could have been worse if we
hadn’t rushed the barracks, but he knew it would eat at me that we hadn’t saved
them all.
    “OK, Horatio, can your platoon organize the Evac? My
team has to be long gone from here before the Zombies come crawling toward the
sound of the gunfire.”
    Captain
David and his RTO
    “I’ll do you one better, Nick. It’s going to take a
few minutes to get organized. Have the bird give you a lift a couple miles
north, say to a mountaintop just outside Ft. Ann, where you can rest up for a
while.”

“Sounds good, Brother.” I followed Doc, Jonesy, Jacob and Ahmed into the back
of the chopper while Cpt. David conferred with the pilot. Once I sat down on
the canvas seat, I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

 
    Chapter 18
    We never got off the ground. The rotors spun up,
then spun down. I woke up with a start, sensing the change in pitch. The crew
chief lowered the tail deck and motioned for everyone to get out, so I
unsnapped my harness, grabbed my ruck, and shuffled down the ramp.

Outside, a Blackhawk had just touched down. After the rotors stopped spinning,
two figures climbed down. Here came LTC Jackass with his faithful sidekick
Command Sergeant Major Peters, aka Poncho. They strode over with the Colonel
holding his Cavalry Stetson firmly on his head, as if the motionless helo would
blow it away. I’m surprised he didn’t have his spurs jingle- jangling. CSM
Peters was carrying an M-14 with more scopes, flashlights and targeting devices
than an M-1 tank. He aimed it this way and that, starting at every sound coming
out of the pre-dawn darkness. Twice he flagged me with his weapon, swinging it
in a wide arc that pretty much covered my whole team. We cringed backwards, as
we could see in the light of the burning chopper that his finger was on the
trigger.
    Colonel Jackass stepped up to me and tried to stare
me down. I put my finger alongside my nose and blew snot out onto the ground in
front of him. He leaned forward and got two inches from my face, the firelight
making him look like some kind of red cherry tomato.
    “Sergeant Major, arrest this man!” Peters started to
sling his weapon and reach for me. I stepped back and got ready to deliver a
full force punch to the Colonel’s face. Or his throat. I couldn’t decide which.
My arm was stopped by Doc, who had come up behind me.
    “Arrest me? For what?”
    “It was your negligence that got that helo
shot down tonight. I ordered you to get information on the prison.”
    “What were we supposed to do, crawl over the walls? Keep
trying to take prisoners until we were