Chapter 6 (Prescott)

State work pays well but the benefits bite!

"Here's your cocktail, Mr. Alvarez."

 Wisconsin's Governor took the drink gratefully and finished half of it in a single swallow. 

 "They say food is nourishment but scotch is soulful." the governor mentioned.

 "Who says that, Sir?"

 "Jesus, Prescott! People who say things! Maybe Aretha Franklin. Christ, you're worst than a three year old!" 

 "Sorry, Sir. I just wanted to know who said that quote." the flustered aide replied.

 "How about you give me a quote on exactly what the f**k is happening in my state?"

 "Well, Sir. No word from the preside-"

 Sporadic gunfire cut off the aide's report. The governor winced. "Is that blasted gunfire from us or from the looters?" the aide started to answer but the governor cut him off "How come we can't stop them? This is the capital for Christ's sake!"

 "I explained before, Sir. Most of our police force is…derelict for duty. We assume they're digging in or else reaching out to family out of town. As of now we're at only 21% strength. Just enough to keep our stations manned. I expect those numbers to decline so we'll have to consider abandoning some station houses and consolidating our force. Of course we have armaments and records we'll need to move to wherever we decide to rally. This might prove to be difficult."

 "Difficult" the governor scoffed "We have the National Guard!"

 "You are correct, Sir." the aide said as he dabbed his forehead with a salmon colored handkerchief "Unfortunately only 50% of recruits showed up for assignment. The rest failed to respond. Presumably for the same reason as our police force. Per your request the majority of our National Guard members are attempting to secure the Minnesota/Wisconsin border. So far casualties have been low but we expect that to change as this..situation..escalates. We have a personal guard of 300 including some of our own police force. Confrontation has been minimal as most of the city's residents have fled or else gone into hiding. We expect this to change as infection spreads. At this point we should start exploring an exit strategy."

 "Leave the capitol building?" the governor bellowed.

 "Yes, Sir. It appears as if the president is not going to assist us. His subordinates have been vexing at best. Essentially they are stalling. We will not be obtaining any assistance. No word back from the CDC either since they sent their task force. Nothing."

 The governor paled. Taking another drink he wiped his mouth and placed the empty glass onto his highly polished mahogany table. The ice cubes clinked and he shook his head. 

 "What about other states? Has Minnesota reached out to us?"

 "Yes, Sir. Because of our, how should I say it, crippling dereliction we have been unable to render assistance. We're spread pretty thin, Sir. To be honest I expect the desertion to increase. These people aren't soldiers. They have family. Unfortunate I know but it's a fact. Before this escalates I suggest we retreat. I have a number of options to discuss with you. Of course you have the final say."

 Another burst of gunfire. Three round bursts Prescott noted. The National Guard. Something was nearing the capitol. 

 "Are you familiar with sidearms, Sir?"

 "Jesus, Prescott! I served our country!" the governor bellowed.

 "As a chaplain, Sir."

 "Yes I was a chaplin, not the Pope."

 "Here, Sir." Prescott handed the governor a Glock 9mm. 

 After a pause Alvarez snatched the weapon from the aide's hand. 

 "It's loaded, Sir. I'm going to check with the commanding officer. I'll be back to brief you shortly."

 The aide left the governor alone and exited the office.

 As Prescott descended the capitol's steps he approached a SWAT member. "Give me your weapon officer."

 The team member handed over his AR-15 SBR and stepped back. "I need those mags too, trooper."

 Hesitantly the guard removed his chest rig and handed it to Prescott. The aide buckled the harness on and thanked the man. Walking away he pulled the charging handle back on the weapon and checked the load. It was hot.

 Passing 2 guards he exited the front door and walked down the steps taking them two at a time. "Master Sergeant!" the aide called out.

 "Yes, Sir!" the enlisted man replied.

 "Where's your CO?"

 "Lieutenant  Colonel Carrington is over at the east entrance, Sir."

 "An LC is the capitol's acting CO?" the aide asked incredulously "Where is the First Class General?"

 "He was called away, Sir. I don't know where, Sir. I'm just a Master Sergeant, Sir" the trooper held his shoulder insignia closer to Precott, smiling widely.

 "Thanks, trooper. Stay sharp."

 Prescott started walking east.

 "Sir?" the trooper called out.

 The aide turned around. "Do you know how to use that thing?" the trooper asked. Gesturing towards the SBR.

 "Army Rangers. 6 years." Prescott replied. 

 The aide smiled as he walked away.

 "Lieutenant Colonel Carrington. How is our perimeter looking?"

 The LC turned around and gauged the aide. The harness rig was neatly secured and the man held the weapon easily. 

 "It's starting to heat up, Mr. Prescott." the officer replied as he spit some chewing tobacco spittle. "We're keeping the lights low and movement to a minimum. That seems to be helping. However, there is always an exception."

 Suddenly a man wearing Bermuda shorts and a tank top despite the November weather barreled down the street approaching the barricade.

 "Corporal Gates!" the LC shouted.

 A wiry corporal fired his M4 and the three round burst neatly cleaved the top of running man's head off. The body collapsed with a sliding shudder.

 "Splendid f*****g shooting, corporal!" the LC exclaimed.

 "Thanks, Sir." the young man said while blushing.

 Prescott was relieved. Despite contradicting intel the situation seemed to be under control. A radioman beckoned the LC. Carrington grabbed the headset from the specialist and listened gravely. After a brief exchange he flung the headset and marched towards Prescott. 

 "Can you use that thing?" the CO asked.

 "I'll try." the aide replied.

 "Good. Someone get Mr. Prescott some extra mags.  It's about to heat up. "

 The attack was unlike anything the soldiers had ever seen. It started with a Humvee careening around the corner and coming to an abrupt stop before the barricade. Six soldiers spilled from the vehicle and leapt over the improvised barricade.

 "There's a thousand of them coming. Nothing is stopping them. Our .50 cal is out!" a black soldier screamed to the LC forgetting all military brevity.

 "Fill up on ammo, son" the CO advised "We're holding tight."

 The young man looked crestfallen. With shoulders slumped he headed towards the ammo dump. His five comrades looked temporarily relieved but nervous nonetheless.

 "The rest of you find a position and dig in." Carington yelled. 

 The men found cover behind orange construction barrels filled with sand.

 Carington inspected the newcomers. There was a pimple faced vice sergeant laying out his mags onto the pavement in front of him. The kid looked keyed up.

 "Vice Sergeant! What did you see out there?" LC Carington asked.

 "It's pretty bad, Sir. We're all going to die." the kid said while trying to smile.

 Carington let the proper brevity slide again and patted the kid on the shoulder. 

 "You'll do fine son. Be brave." 

 The CO strode off towards North Entrance. Prescott followed. The radioman jogged along waiting for an order. Suddenly Carington stopped. 

 "Let the Field Marshall know what is happening. Give him your version. You saw it. Alert everyone on the map. And Jesus, arm yourself soldier."

 With that the LC continued striding towards the entrance of the capitol. A few bursts of gunfire rang out behind them. Prescott looked back and the LC trudged forward.

 "Carington!" Prescott yelled "What is our strategy?"

 "We're going to survive. Or die trying. The last major conflict this company was involved in was a tornado in a National Forest. Get my point? We have at best maybe 20 combat vets with legitimate experience. The rest of these guys want to get accounting degrees for free."

 The LC entered a small tent and emerged with a tactical rig and an M4. 

 "Stick close, Prescott. The capitol is our Alamo and we are going to hold it."

 The East Entrance was overrun first. Panicked radio transmissions placed the mob in the thousands. The pimply Vice Sergeant lobbed a 40mm grenade into the mob with his M203 and never got to witness the aftermath. A small Oriental woman leapt over the barricade and tore his throat open.

 Corporal Gates fired his M4 until the weapon was smoking hot and empty. He fled right into a tangle of infected. A fat man in overalls grabbed his ankle and tripped him up. Within seconds he had been enveloped. 

 A small group of brave men tried forming a human barricade between East and North Entrance, hoping to cease the flow and protect the governor. The mob plowed through them and the stragglers tore them asunder.

 The breech in the east line opened the company at the North Entrance up to a devastating flanking attack. Before the men could redirect their fire they were overwhelmed.

 Prescott slowly backed away towards the capitol entrance; taking careful aim and dropping infected with steady head shots. 

  The aide watched a mob of infected tackle Carington. The CO wrenching his side arm loose while slowly being forced to the ground. 

 Prescott shot into the mob and cleared an empty magazine as he hurdled the steps to the wide double doors. 

 "Barricade the doors!" he screamed to the guards.

 "There's still men out there, Sir." a hispanic guard mentioned.

 "I don't care if the Attorney General is out there. Lock it down!"

 The guards electronically sealed the doors, then pulled down a roll of aluminum grating and backed away. "Get everyone we have to guard this door. I'm going to inform the governor that the capitol has fallen.

 Prescott hurried past the governor's office and used a code card to enter a private restroom. Stepping into a stall he climbed onto a toilet and pushed up a rectangular acoustic ceiling tile. Grabbing a two inch copper pipe he pulled himself onto the grid work of plumbing and wire runs; feet scrambling against the formica partition fighting for purchase. After finding a comfortable place to lay he replaced the ceiling tile and released the breath he had been holding.

 The gunfire in the lobby was intensifying. The sound of shattering glass was followed by the racket of the aluminum grating being shaken. "Those idiots shot out the glass."

 A terrific metal screech sounded. Then the screaming began. Gunfire died briefly then became louder. The final guard was retreating towards the governor's office Prescott thought. Shots sounded outside the restroom. Someone opened the restroom door with their code card. The aide could hear the man's raspy panting. Before the door could shut the room filled with an animal smell. "No! No! Jesus F*****g Christ!" a voice pleaded.

 An eerie howl rang out and a girlish scream rang through the acoustic tiles. Prescott held his hands over his ears and tried not to breathe. 

 The aide could hear wet sucking noises and the scrambling of hands and feet on what he could only assume was a blood soaked tile floor. After a moment the slurping noises subsided and the creatures began tearing the room apart, slamming open stall doors and flailing against partitions. "They can smell me." Prescott thought.

 Hands started pounding on the door. "F*****g things can't even pull open a door!" he marveled.

 "A whole company of well armed National Guard soldiers were ripped to pieces in minutes by some creatures that can't even pull open a f*****g door!" The aide nervously tittered.

 The pounding stopped. Prescott held his breath again as the stall door below him was flung open. A howl raged below him. Gunfire in the governor's office distracted the creature and drew it out of the stall. It pounded on the door for a moment then a terrible scratching started. The door hinges sounded and Prescott imagined the creature must have managed to pull the door open. Retreating running steps rang out on the marble floor. The aide panted briefly then fell asleep; exhaustion taking over.

  

Author's Note

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