After the Pandemic: Genocide (5): Stars and Stripes Forever (868 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesLabels: After_the_Pandemic
Rating: 2 on 19 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl (View user info) at 2005-12-12 08:20:24 EST
Jack McCallum's Introduction - http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238
After the Pandemic: Genocide (1): The Variants - http://www.ubersite.com/m/79933
After the Pandemic: Genocide (2): The Armory - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80119
After the Pandemic: Genocide (3): Times Square - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80429
After the Pandemic: Genocide (4): The Highbridge - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80522
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-08 10:12:23 (#)
Ranking: 2
less chat, more splat.
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Happy to oblige. There'll be enough splat in the next few installments.
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PART FIVE - Stars and Stripes Forever
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To President John Derringer
From Secretary Steven Marquez
Re: American Army units in the New York Metropolitan Area
The 42nd Division (National Guard) is currently the part of the American Army guarding and locking down the city of New York. Although the 103rd Rhode Island is not an official part of the division, it was added on to give the benefit of artillery support to the Americans against the zombies.
Coming from upstate is the 10th Mountain Division, a unit that was heavily decimated by the zombie attacks while stationed in Iraq; its strength is down to 1500 regulars. From Harrisburg in the west is coming the 28th Pennsylvania Division, with a brigade of paratroopers, to help the strained guardsmen to secure the city and prevent the escape and victory of the zombies. We're also ready to send the 82nd Airborne if need be.
42nd Division (125 tanks, 40 artillery pieces, 8400 men)
--3rd NY Armored, from Buffalo, stationed in the Bronx (80 tanks, 2100 men)
--42nd NY Infantry, from Patchogue, stationed in Queens (2000 men)
--50th NJ Infantry, from Fort Dix, stationed in Harlem (2100 men)
--"Fighting" 69th NY Infantry, from Manhattan, destroyed in Iraq (-)
--86th VT Armored, from Montpelier, stationed in the Bronx (45 tanks, 1800 men)
-103rd RI Field Artillery, from Providence, stationed in Queens (40 artillery pieces, 400 men)
28th Division (35 tanks, 6700 men)
--2nd PA Infantry, from Washington, coming to NYC (1100 men)
--55th PA Armored, from Scranton, coming to NYC (35 tanks, 1200 men)
--56th PA Infantry, from Philadelphia, coming to NYC (2500 men)
--28th PA Aviation, from Annville, coming to NYC (1900 men)
10th Light Mountain division (1500 men)
--1st Brigade, from Fort Drum, coming to NYC (1500 men)
--2nd Brigade, destroyed in Iraq (-)
--4th Brigade, destroyed in Iraq (-)
--10th Aviation, destroyed in Iraq (-)
We are prepared at moment's notice to release the nerve gas over the city. We will be aiming any airstrike at Brooklyn and the Lower East Side all the way up through Central Park, where the zombies are known to have originated and spread. With any and all hope the threat can once and for all be abolished.
Secretary of Defense Steven Marquez
September 19, 200X
STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER
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At the Troy airbase in upstate New York the loudspeakers played a soft instrumental version of the Star-Spangled Banner as the pilots and bombardiers took to their jets. All across the tarmac the Air Force personnel locked and loaded their deadly weapons, arming their F-117 jets for takeoff.
This was where the United States had failed to act on September 11th, when the planes began striking the World Trade Center. Indecision and fear had taken over the government, and they had not sent out fighter jets until it was altogether too late. Now they had the chance to make up for what was lost, and to once again save New York City.
"Launch the attack at nine o'clock in the morning," said Lieutenant General Thompson, who was one of the Joint Chiefs of staff and military commander of the entire Northeastern United States sector. "It's come to this..."
"We received the executive Presidential confirmation just ten minutes ago," replied the Air Force officer. "We're using nerve gas. All flight leaders have been briefed, and everything is ready to go."
"Then let it be done," Thompson replied.
"Attention, attention, prep for launching in five minutes," rang out the laconic voice on the intercom. The lines of aircraft, thirty in all, ignited their engines and the first few rolled out onto the takeoff strip.
"Sword squadron, you're going to Brooklyn, Gold squadron, you're going to Lower East Side," the intercom said. "Juno squadron is going to Central Park, and Utah squadron is going to Flatbush. Omaha squadron will be sweeping down Midtown. You've received your orders, let's take them out."
The leader of the flight in Gold Squadron checked his watch, and said into his transmission, "Permission to take off?"
"Granted, and Godspeed."
The stealth jets in the front of the queue turned up their acceleration, and their engines roared as they careened down the runway, taking off into the blue morning sky, headed south. The smoke and ash rising from New York City was visible even at a distance of over a hundred miles.
New York City was anything but calm and peaceful. The zombies were infecting or killing the thousands of survivors trapped in Harlem, the Army was clashing with the zombies in Queens and Manhattan, and the uninfected civilians under siege in Greenwich Village were struggling to defend against the hundreds of thousands of infected attackers.
Tobias was in Harlem, feasting on the remains of the 86th Armored with Grey, Angel and the rest of the 124th Street Variant C militia. Some wandering Variant Bs and Variant As had stumbled across the killing, and were being rebuffed by the more cogent and lucid zombies.
"Let them eat," Tobias ordered. "We can use them later,"
Tobias had gathered a group of about two hundred zombies under his own command, and they had been roaming the streets in a large pack when they had merged with some more tribes of Variant Cs. Now Tobias had about two thousand zombies, and he had led them to victory in their baptism of fire against the American tanks.
The previous night Tobias' militia of zombies had discovered a column of several dozen tanks and several hundred soldiers marching through uptown and had promptly ambushed them. In the close-quarters combat, the tank's cannons were useless, and the soldiers were eaten alive in their densely-packed groups. All of Vermont's National Guardsmen had been lost, some eighteen hundred men.
Best of all, about a thousand of that number had become infected zombies, adding on to Tobias' already growing command. The soldiers were now filled with the same bloodlust that consumed Tobias and the zombies, and were eager to attack their comrades in the ranks.
"Robertson," Tobias said as he walked along the body-lined 174th Street. "Lead your troops onto the Spuyten Divil bridge to make sure that the rest of the tanks can't get over."
"Aye, sir," said the zombie Robertson, a bespectacled Variant C who had formerly been a Catholic priest. His cassock and white collar were stained with American blood, and dangling from his pale lips were the fragments of his kill.
Nine thousand feet above Harlem, Juno squadron's bombardiers came into view.
"Check the vectors on the angles of fire, before we deposit the payload."
"All systems set and secure."
"Bombs away."
The cargo bays opened, and over the din of the sonic boom came the whistling of heavy 5,000-pound bombs, filled with explosives and sarin gas. Hurtling down toward the uptown region, the dozens of aircraft passed over uptown, screaming through the air on their deadly missions.
Tobias looked up at the stealth jets roaring across the sky, and the bombs like pinpricks plummeting down to the buildings. What could he do, he thought, freezing like a deer in the headlights. All around him, on the street, sidewalks, and the wreckage of the bloody tanks, the hundreds of zombies gazed up at the incoming death.
"What should we do?" asked Robertson, hunkering down between the treads of a Bradley fighting vehicle.
"Get on the ground! Get prone!" Tobias yelled, throwing himself onto the street. The bombs whistled in a high-pitched shriek of death as they fell inexorably toward the earth, falling, falling—
The very ground shook and trembled as the bombs hit the surface of the earth, pounding massive holes in uptown's landscape. Buildings fell all around, and Tobias felt himself thrown through the air, the pressure squeezing his head like there was an iron band around it. His eyeballs felt like they were being sucked out, and he closed them tightly, broken glass and debris hitting his body as he lay like a rag doll on the ground.
The planes continued their murderous barrage, blasting apart rows of apartment buildings and office space with their fiery death. Columns of zombies were incinerated where they lay, their impressions burned into the pavement like echoes of a soul. In the wake of the carnage the smell of toxins rose along with the smell of blood.
Tobias couldn't hear himself scream over the drone of planes and noise of the explosions rattling the earth all around him. He was not a soldier, and could not deal with this; his body was being tossed about by the shock of the bombs, and his eardrums and brain were aching in agony.
The dust settled, and it was over. Tobias stayed on the ground, not moving a muscle, his ears ringing so loudly as to make him deaf. The only sounds he could hear was his heartbeat, and the distant thud of bombs crashing into Times Square and Central Park.
How long he laid there he would never know, but for a long time Tobias was flat out on the torn asphalt next to the burned-out cars and tanks, and the bodies of the survivors and dead together. His brain burned with pressure, and he kept his hands over his head as if expecting more death to rain from the sky.
"Tobias," came a voice, piercing the ringing like a nail into his brain. It seemed distant and far off, but when Tobias raised his eyes from the ground and looked through the dust, he could see Doctor Madison Grey above him, his lip cut and hand outstretched.
Tobias took his hand and allowed Grey to pull him up. The scene around him was like a slaughterhouse. The zombies near him had not been as lucky to dodge the bombs, and blood was splashed onto the walls of the ruined and bombed buildings like a Jackson Pollock painting. Organs and brains lay in pulverized puddles of putrescence in the pockmarked street, and what buildings had survived were ablaze.
"Makes you feel sorry for Baghdad," Tobias remarked, his head spinning with the force of the bombs as he took a few shaky steps, his balance askew. He looked down; lying before him just a meter away from his left foot, was a severed human hand, muscles and tendons pouring out of the wrist and pooling on the ground. The fingers were raised up as though the owner had been trying to escape from something.
Without warning, Tobias vomited onto the ground, hunching over and voiding his stomach, filled with revulsion.
"There's so much bodily fluid on the ground that it doesn't matter. That's either disgust at the violence," Grey said softly. "Or the gas. I think it's the former...the gas seems to not affect us."
"Gas?" wheezed Tobias, heaving his chyme onto the asphalt.
"Smell it?" Grey said, smiling as he sniffed the air. "It reminds me of some industrial solvent, like bleach or ammonia. Smell it."
"What is that?" Tobias said, standing up as he finished retching. The gas felt good in his nostrils, like nitrous oxide. His sickness vanished, and he felt alive again, not like a blood-hungry zombie.
"Some kind of chemical, I don't know what," Grey said, strolling around the carnage. The other zombies were arising, gaping in horror at the destruction that the Air Force had leveled against New York.
"Thousands must be dead," Tobias remarked. "Not just us zombies...even the uninfected."
"Unilateral action," shrugged Grey. "Do you want to reorganize the survivors?"
"All right," Tobias said, his mind made clear by the gas. It seemed to heal him on the inside like some kind of...herbal remedy, he thought, the words springing to his mind. "Help me out, Doctor, to find survivors."
Walking past the piles of dead and bomb craters, Grey and Tobias walked down the street, looking up toward the sky and breathing the chemical gas deeply in defiance of the cruel government.
* * *
Jennifer Grant watched from atop the high cliffs of the Palisades as the jet fighters roared over the city of New York.
"What's going to happen?" she asked the Red Cross head, Nurse Zeuker.
"Watch," Zeuker said, grinning as she pointed her finger across the wide Hudson River at the city.
The bombers streaked overhead, releasing their payload onto the skyline of uptown. In the late-morning air, the flames from the explosions rose high into the troposphere, red and brutally dark.
"No..." Jennifer said softly, sadly watching the city she had known and loved all her life in its demise. The rows and rows of F-117s roared over the city, continuing downtown and across to Long Island, dropping columns of incendiary bombs all over the city.
The buildings crumbled and collapsed, raising up huge clouds of dust and making the ground shake a little. A cluster of bombs hurtled through the air toward the Empire State Building, the tallest structure in the city at over fourteen hundred feet.
"Holy shit, the Empire State Building!" a soldier exclaimed from behind Jennifer. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. A group of infantrymen had gathered around Jennifer's position on the Palisades cliffs, watching the firebombing in awe and wonder. Even the staunch and stoic Nurse Zeuker, jaded from the scenes of violence in Iraq, gasped and held her hand over her open mouth as the city collapsed.
"They're not really going to—"
The bombs ripped into the Empire State Building's formidable side, penetrating the walls and exploding ferociously inside. It was almost like a fireworks display, how the building's interior shattered and it vomited forth its insides in a burst of fiery color. The supports cracked and the implosion seemed imminent.
"Danny..." one of the female soldiers said, bursting into tears behind her. "My husband Danny died in the World Trade Center...this is just so..."
Just like the Twin Towers did, the Empire State Building began to collapse. The tall spire crashed down through the main trunk, and the floors compressed into one another, each an individual explosion in itself. In a dull roar, the building fell, wailing with the screams of hundreds as it droned toward the earth.
"God damn," an awestruck guardsman interjected vehemently. "There it goes!"
They stood there in amazement staring at the burning city for several minutes silently. The dozen volunteer nurses and helpers from the Teaneck Armory, including Jennifer, stood in phalanx, their hands demure at their sides and their gazes fixed on the column of fire and smoke where the noble Empire State Building symbol of the City, had once stood proudly, immune to both giant apes, and more seriously, time.
"We will be searching Washington Heights and North Harlem for uninfected survivors, especially military personnel," Zeuker said, seeming very much crushed in spirit. "Come, come."
Jennifer loaded into the military Humvee, and was locked into the wide cargo truck with the rest of the volunteers. Most of the soldiers had withdrawn into Fort Lee, but there was a small detachment of the 50th New Jersey still in Washington Heights. The Humvee sped across the George Washington Bridge and quickly made its way into the bombed-out avenues and alleyways of uptown.
Jennifer loaded out of the Humvee and onto the bullet-pocked and bomb-scorched road where a makeshift medical station had been set up. Zeuker turned to her volunteer nurses.
"Volunteers from the Jersey City armory will stay here to help the injured," Zeuker said strictly, her thin mouth barely moving. Her tightly stretched skin was pale with the sight of the moaning wounded Americans on the concrete. "Teaneck Armory volunteers, just go down those two streets and check for any living survivors, and bring them back. We will not stay long here, even in this place where the nerve gas is diluted."
Jennifer and several of the nurses went down one of the streets; the street sign had been obliterated by one of the bombs, and there was no way to know which street. The nurses were accompanied by two disinterested soldiers, fingering their M-16s as they stumped along next to them.
There were no survivors. There were many bodies on the street, some torn beyond recognition or annihilated by the firebombing, others shot by the Army or eaten by the zombies...but it seemed that none were alive.
"Miss?" came a small voice. Jennifer turned to see three erect figures striding toward them. "Miss?" said one of the figures, clad in the blood-splattered uniform of an American soldier. "Help us...we're hurt."
"Zombie!" one of the accompanying soldiers cried from behind Jennifer, raising his M-16 to his shoulder. He pulled the trigger, and the middle of the three survivors fell back, reeling from the burst of automatic fire.
"No! No! We're not zombies! Don't shoot us!" said the other two, falling to their knees and raising their hands. Their comrade shook and convulsed on the ground.
"You idiot, they're the Vermont soldiers," said the other of the accompanying soldiers. "You've killed him."
The man who had been hit by the burst of gunfire was dead. The bullets had smashed into his chest and neck, popping his aorta. His two comrades lowered their hands as the nurses rushed toward them.
"I'm Brandon Dicambrio, and this is Michael Benkosky," said one of the survivors. "Both 86th Armored...he's not..."
"I'm sorry," the soldier who had fired said. He looked shaken now, and almost despondent in his remorse.
"Just take us back," said Michael Benkosky bitterly. His leg was gashed and bloody, and his countenance pale. "Leave Charlie. He's dead, and wasn't part of our company anyway."
"Let me take you," Jennifer said, helping him along on his slashed left leg. "I mean, help you,"
"Thank you, miss," Michael said in nothing more than a whisper. His comrade Brandon, cut on the arm, followed the troop of nurses back.
"There's no one left alive, we would have seen it," Michael said.
"We thought as much," Jennifer replied. "I'm Jennifer Grant, by the way."
"Michael Benkosky, 86th Vermont, 1st Battalion, Company B," Michael replied. "Or at least what's left of B Company. I'm the only one left, I expect."
"Come on," said one of the escorting soldiers. "The nerve gas is stronger down there, let's leave."
The troop of nurses, soldiers, and survivors of the destruction left the area, and continued back into the Humvees. As the sun set, hours later, the last American army units left New York City. The island of Manhattan was lost now. The nerve gas attack and bombing had failed, and the zombies were stronger than ever.
There was nothing for the United States to do but defend.
User Reviews
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-03-28 16:46:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Can't hide my raging boners anymore.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-12-14 01:21:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-12-13 07:08:16 (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm loving all of these. I loved The Caes work and i'm enjoying the fact that this is a completely seperated story. Some people seem convinced they shoudl run together but i can't see why!?
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Thanks dude. I agree...I like that it's a different spin on the concept. At first I was like, "what the hell is this guy talking about? THAT'S not how it works!"
And then I realized you were doing it all different on purpose. I am not, how you say, "quick on the uptake."
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-12-13 16:33:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Where are the Marines?
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-13 09:55:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
80th post by the way.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-13 08:58:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I didn't want it to converge in any way with Jack's or theCaes's, but to make it an entirely separate story in my own way. Jack's and Caes' were good, but I went with Jack's original idea in the introduction to make just a zombie story in relation to a global pandemic. In the beginning of the ATP craze, all the stories were different, and I wanted to stick to that original idea.
As to the military part, I'm a historian, more specifically a military historian (explaining the stories about the Revolutionary War, WWI, etc.) which means I look at placements of units, the ratios of enemies, and lists of battalions in brigades. The knowledge of the US 42ID comes from personal experience, as I know several people serving in that unit in Iraq as of now, including several friends in the 50NJ Brigade. I'm not a violent person, nor do I ever want to serve in a war, and my knowledge of combat is scarce.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-13 07:14:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
fabit - possibly for potential book inclusion, i would guess. you can certainly have two separate stories, and manage to make them not butt heads, i would think.
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-12-13 07:08:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm loving all of these. I loved The Caes work and i'm enjoying the fact that this is a completely seperated story. Some people seem convinced they shoudl run together but i can't see why!? This is refreshing interesting - just liek the caes.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-12-12 23:29:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No offense, but your lack of military knowledge is showing. I think they're right about the chemical suits...it's hard to write about something like military action; it seems to be so precise and exact and full of specifics. Though I can tell you've done some good research on some things.
It also seems 'off' to me that the US government would destroy its own historic landmarks as a first course of action. Once they had confirmed that nerve gas was ineffective, THEN it makes sense for them to start blowing things up. I'm not saying that you should take it out, but I think you could have made a bigger deal of the magnitude of their actions; show some of the conflict that would have come with making such a decision, that sort of thing.
Oh, good description of the bombs dropping and the ESB collapsing, by the way.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-12-12 23:24:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yup.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-12 21:37:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i'm kind of curious as to why you didn't stick to thecaes's layout, and keep the empire state building standing.
why?
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-12 17:12:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
more people shoudl read this.
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-12-12 12:03:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
sweet
Submitted by Jimmo (user info) at 2005-12-12 11:57:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yep, bit weird with the gas, surely high explosive followed by napalm.
Tee hee, what do I know.
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-12-12 11:11:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:49:04 (#)
Ranking: 2
Cool.
The soldiers should be wearing chemical suits.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:49:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Cool.
The soldiers should be wearing chemical suits.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:34:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
that was pretty awesome.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:27:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
There'll me a far higher body count in Part 6 - Against the Grain
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:16:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
even happier after seeing my comment :)
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-12 10:15:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
gotta say...pretty psyched this is up.
premature +2.
on to reading...