Chapter Fourteen

I didn't like leaving Hanson behind, but I knew delaying the inevitable was pointless. It was better to see what I'd signed up for so I could start weighing our chances of survival with the group. Despite what I'd promised, I fully intended to cut and run if the operation turned out to be a shitstorm of stupidity. I'd simply wait until the next mission when Hanson was geared up with me to do it.

Yeah, I was willing to be an asshole like that. Consequences be damned. My only concerns were keeping myself and Hanson in one piece. We'd started this journey together. I intended for us to finish it together, too.

The squad escorted me to the Armory trailers where I was issued a side piece and holster I could keep on me at all times. I was also given a better combat vest, helmet, and enough tactical equipment to make the cop's riot gear look like a kid's Halloween costume. The guys helped me adjust all the various straps and showed me how to work the thermal goggles, the filtration mask, and how to unsnap the K-Bar on my belt.

They offered me a choice of an assault rifle or a X-50. The X-50 was the latest and greatest in armor piercing tech, capable of shooting around corners, changing to a shotgun blast on the fly, and sniping up to a mile away, but I didn't have the first clue how to use it. I took an assault rifle with its simpler auto-off-on safety switch. The armory manager praised me on my caution and handed me a pair of grenades.

"Twist, pull, pin," he said as he showed me how to secure them in my vest. "Twist the pin, pull out the pin, then hold on to the pin as you throw the grenade. Don't mix them up. Throwing the pin and holding the grenade is a good way to get your arm blown off. The grenade's three second delay doesn't trigger until the spoon releases, so don't panic if you forget. Just throw the damn thing, preferably not in the direction of friendlies. And don't forget to duck. You'd be surprised how many idiots forget in the heat of the moment."

"Twist, pull, pin," I repeated. "No blowing up the good guys and duck. Got it."

The last thing I was given was an empty rucksack with orders to fill it with anything useful.

"Supply drops are limited to stuff we can't get for ourselves," White explained as she rejoined us. "There's plenty of food, medicine, and ammo waiting on us in the city. The last thermal drone sweep picked up some runners downtown, so that's where we're heading. If you see something you want, no one is going to give a shit if you pocket it. Just don't weigh yourself down with bullshit you don't need. Stay in visual contact with the team at all times and say something before investigating anything. Don't be afraid to speak up. A lack of communication can kill you before anything else."

She handed out earbuds to each of us, then lead the way over to the vehicle maintenance trailer where a set of three black hoverbikes had appeared. While the guy in charge handed out assignments and keys, I popped in the earbud and listened to the chatter of a soothing male voice running through sound checks.

"D-Nav to Zed-363-3. How's your sound? Over." By the third call and response, I got the gist 363 was our unit number, telling listeners we were part of the third Company, sixth platoon, third squad. I committed 363 to memory, knowing I'd probably be using it a lot. I assumed the last number was our individual ID within the squad since it changed with each person.

"Zed-363-3 to D-Nav, Martin reporting. Register call sign Doc. Comms are clear. Doc is go. Over."

"D-Nav to Zed-363-4. Keep it going. Over."

"Zed-363-4 to D-Nav, Carver reporting. Register call sign Sleepy. Comms are clear. Sleepy is go. Over."

When it was my turn, D-Nav didn't prompt me—I don't think he'd been told I was going to be there—so I piped in using the same format. "Zed-363-5 to D-Nav," I said. "Bryant reporting. Register call sign Grumpy. Comms are clear. Grumpy is go. Over."

There was a moment of hesitation before the D-Nav's voice came over his earbud. "D-Nav to Zed-363-5. Apologies for the delay. Call sign registered. Nice to meet you, Grumpy. Do you have military experience on board? Over."

"Grumpy to D-Nav, negative. Over."

"White to D-Nav. It's Grumpy's first day. We're doing some on the job training, so go easy on him. White to Overwatch. All units accounted for and comms are clear. Requesting green light. Over."

"Overwatch to White," Sergeant James said, his voice projecting clearly over the comms. "You have green light to deploy. Over."

White glanced at me, then tossed her head toward Grady. "You can ride bitch behind Crazy for now," she said. It was strange hearing her voice come from her mouth, then echo through the comms, but I knew I'd get used to it. "When you get some downtime, have Yoshi give you the rundown on how to operate one of these so you can drive in the future, but for now your assignment is to pay attention and learn as much as you can. Have you ever ridden a hoverbike before?"

"No," I said. "I'm guessing they're not like motorcycles?"

"They're more like jet skis," she replied. "The oscillating fans will do all the work of balancing, so the only thing you have to worry about is not falling off. If shit gets real, get on board and Grady will get you off the ground. Fastest way to safety is straight up, so be prepared. Crazy! Show him how to ride."

Hurrying over to Grady, I sat where he told me to sit and listened carefully as he pointed out problem areas I needed to avoid with my feet and hands. There were handlebars on either side of my seat and holsters for the tips of my boots, but I was a loose package otherwise. Apparently it was important to be able to jump free in the event of a crash, so no one had installed seat belts.

Long before I was mentally prepared, we lifted off the ground. The hoverbikes I'd seen in net videos and movies weren't exactly quiet and neither were these. The buzzing hum was actually quite loud until White gave the order to switch on noise canceling. The buzzing of each bike immediately changed pitch and disappeared completely.

Sitting up in the air with no enclosure and nothing below me was odd. Doing it in silence was surreal. And once we were above the surrounding tree-line? In an instant, I knew what it felt like to fly.

"Are you done sightseeing, Grumpy?" Grady called out. I glanced around and saw everyone was hunched over in their seats. I adjusted myself to imitate them, figuring they were doing it for a reason, and I was glad I did. Without another word of warning, Grady hit the gas and sent us flying forward.

The wind pressed against my body, trying its damnedest to blow me off and I dared not lift my head to look around. My grip tightened on the handlebars under my seat and I satisfied myself by watching the ground pass beneath us. First, it was the river, then the pile-up of cars. We flew over what seemed to be a warehouse district, then maneuvered around several skyscrapers.

Not needing to follow the roads made the journey fast. Within a handful of minutes, Grady drove us down in the middle of a downtown intersection. I didn't like the look of it. The buildings were old, yet newly renovated. Lots of bars, lots of abandoned cars, and at least one parking structure with far too many skyscrapers surrounding it. It would take weeks to clear every building in the immediate vicinity.

"Off," Grady barked. I jumped off and took up a defensive position next to the hoverbike, the butt of my rifle digging into my shoulder when I saw everyone else shouldering theirs. Grady, Doc, and White waited in the driver's seat of their vehicles. As passengers, only Sleepy and I actually put our boots on the ground.

"If there are survivors in this area, they'll come running out, trusting us to protect them," Grady explained. "If they do, we'll split the team and evac them to safety while the rest take shelter."

When White and Sleepy shot off a few rounds, taking out a pair of zombies standing in the middle of the road, he added, "If you see anything in the area, shufflers or otherwise, take them out to minimize the numbers we might have to deal with later and clear the road for survivors to come out. Use those enhanced eyes of yours and identify targets before you shoot. It's okay if you miss. We're not rationing ammo at the moment, so take this chance to practice."