two-hundred.”
Hawse exploded the creature’s neck and face, sending the head flying on a volleyball-serve trajectory. White fragments of bone sprayed the hood of the Subaru, resembling artwork that might have sold at auction years earlier for thousands. Hawse slowly exhaled just before taking the next shot. Billy kept calling them out and Hawse kept popping their heads, missing some as the helicopter pitched and orbited. This wasn’t easy shooting.
The undead were now attracted to the helicopter noise and most had moved away from the target area.
The team needed to be fast, as the helicopter noise would draw the creatures back to the extraction point quickly. Hawse stowed the 7.62 gun and unslung his orange-stripe-painted M-4 carbine. It was easy to lose your carbine in the crowd when everyone carried them. Sam nosed the bird forward and the men once again made ready to rappel into hell. Masks were secured in place for the descent as they hovered one hundred feet above the radioactive mess below.
“Okay, hook up, let’s get this over with!” Doc screamed loudly into his radio over the rotor noise.
“Hell yeah. Let’s do this. Warm shower here I come!” Hawse yelled as he hooked up and stepped off the helicopter into the wind.
The other two followed, leaving Hammer behind. Their descent was twice as far this time, a prudent precaution based on the radiation levels they were dipping into. The rotor wash wasn’t as bad when they touched down, but the deadly particles still swirled in lethal dust devils around their faces.
Billy was looking over at the Big Easy, what was left of her. Most of it was covered in water and radioactive sludge. He could see thousands of creatures slogging through the shallow muck in their direction, waves of them, all converging on the noise epicenter of the rotor blades and helicopter engines. The creatures left a V-shaped wake behind as they waded through the slimy,disease-infested, and radioactive water. All wake tips pointed in their direction.
“Fucking wasteland,” Billy said loudly as he readied his AK-47.
The radiated creatures were closing fast.
Hawse raised his carbine, aiming through his ACOG optic. The optic’s bullet drop was calibrated for military 5.56 ammunition and the crosshairs were graduated for the appropriate drop. No math required. Just match the width of the ACOG reticle to the creature, aim high for the head, pull the trigger, and down goes the body on the other end—in theory. Hawse neutralized four. Billy went to work with his Afghan-liberated AK-47 war trophy and took out three more.
No one was running suppressed for this mission—there was no need. The helicopter noise eliminated that possibility. Doc took down four more with his carbine, leaving two. He slung the M-4 over his back and reached for the pneumatic net gun, ensuring the capture net was properly loaded and positioned on the gun. Both Doc and Billy shot at the same time. Billy took out the creature that was closing on Doc, and Doc netted his target specimen. Mission accomplished, almost.
They stood in a low stance with their backs to the netted creature and watched as the locust-like swarm of undead approached from all directions. By gust of wind, the winch hook contacted the netted creature, shocking it fiercely. Its eyes bulged, and it bellowed and clawed in anger. The built-up static from the helicopter would have knocked one of the men off their feet if not grounded before contact. Now that the electricity was discharged from the hook, Hawse connected the corpse to the net and watched the captured creature spin about and rise the hundred feet to the helicopter door. The NOLA swarm was building and getting closer, the moans overpowering the rotor blades above. The knee-deep water seemed to boil with movement two hundred meters out.
Billy started to engage with the AK-47. The 7.62x39 round had a bit more punch than Doc’s or Hawse’s M-4 carbines, but the AK was somewhat less