SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

71

JAMES

Colonel Jim Hayes was a third-generation soldier. His father, grandfather, uncle, father-in-law, and brother-in-law all served in uniform. Collectively, they engaged in every major military offensive since World War II.

In all that time, no one from his extended family could claim to have seen a stranger enemy than the one currently attacking his forces. Fighting a horde of reanimated dead who refused to stay down from anything less than a headshot was one thing. Mueller's spiders were something else entirely.

His biggest regret was that she couldn't be here to witness the death and destruction wrought by her blind arrogance. Though undeniably a genius, the scientist was an overindulgent child. He should have incinerated that infected head as soon as she got back, even if it meant holding her at gunpoint while he lit the match. This calamity was as much his fault as it was hers.

Her science experiments skittered between the wheels of the parked Humvees. A few of them hopped onto the backs of the plodding corpses of his men, using them as cover to safely close the distance to their armed opponents.

With a wave of his hand, Jim directed his fire team to drop those targets first. Gunshots echoed over the crackling flames and crumbling mortar of their former sanctuary. Zombies bounced back on their heels. Dark blood sprayed from their skulls in red contrails, behind the bullets punching effortlessly through bone and tissue.

The bugs hopped off the falling bodies before they hit the dirt and retreated to the shadows. Two of the flamethrower operators stepped forward to fry them before they could escape. Scorching hot flames seared the ground, but fell short of their intended targets.

The colonel peered over his shoulder at a disturbing new development. Private Powell, one of the few soldiers who first encountered the bugs on that ill-fated mission to the clinic, worriedly tapped the nozzle of his flamethrower. He noticed the colonel looking at him. With a shake of his head, he discarded his empty tank in favor of his sidearm.

Jim frowned. Those damn bugs kept picking away at their defenses, forcing them to use up their fuel reserves to hold them at bay. He needed a new plan before they depleted their only deterrent, but the relentless enemy assault wouldn't give him a moment to do anything but react.

As if reading his mind, a shadow soared past his peripheral vision. It landed on Private Jenkins, the other survivor from Sergeant Lowe's exploration of the clinic. The man screamed and flailed at the creature attached to his chest. Others around him joined in, alarmed by the unexpected attack.

The bug stabbed him repeatedly, drenching the front of his uniform in red. Jenkins dropped to his knees, his energy flagging. Blood bubbles gurgled and dribbled from his lips.

The spider hopped off him as his body hit the ground. Rattling like mad, it weaved across the yard in search of its next victim. With everyone yelling and fleeing in all directions, it had plenty from which to choose.

Before it could pounce on someone else, a fiery discharge from one of the remaining flamethrowers caught it as it was about to leap into the air. The bug went down, its blackened body smoldering next to the charred remains of its recent victim.

"Form up!" Jim shouted to his frightened, dispersed unit. He marched over to Jenkins' body and popped a bullet in the dead man's skull. "Keep watch for more of those things in the shadows. Don't let them get near."

The situation was proving untenable. The private's death was a grim reminder of that. They couldn't stay here, nor could they retreat inside. It would be next to impossible to stop the bugs from striking in a dark, confined space like that. That left only one option as far as he could see.