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.Milner sighed.“Only one thing we can do with him now.And that’s put him out of his misery before he turns.We all know there’s no cure for that shit and we can’t take him with us.”“You want me to do it?” Smith murmured.“It might be better if somebody from the outside takes care of it.You guys have been together awhile.”Milner shook his head.“It’s not my call.We’ll wait until we get back to the C-17.Chief Cole will have to make the decision, he runs the show.”Cordoba continued slowly forward, sluicing the snow aside and clearing a pathway close to the airport terminal perimeter walls.Kauffmann followed close behind in the fuel truck.I glanced in the side mirror and saw the crowd of zombies fade away into the blizzard.Milner tried to contact Chief Cole on the radio once again.This time the Navy Chief responded, much to my surprise.“Milner? Where the hell have you been?” Cole’s deep voice boomed through the headsets.Milner briefly recounted the sequence of events we’d endured inside the terminal, he gave an existing head count and explained the current situation.“The four MIA’s made it back to the aircraft,” Cole stated.“They got out the building when you guys got split.”“Roger that,” Milner sighed.“At least that’s one piece of good news.”“We’ll get the Humvee ready and some extra guys on the ground outside and prep the refueling crew,” Cole said.“Good job, guys.Keep going, you can’t be far away.”Cordoba had to maneuver the plow around several snow covered objects protruding from the ground.We didn’t know what the hell was buried under the snowdrifts and didn’t want to drive over the top in case the shapes turned out to be gas tanks or small vehicles or anything explosive and combustible.We were too close to completion to fuck up now.We rounded the terminal building corner and made out the shape of the C-17, covered in snow on the length of its body and the wings.The aircraft emerged from the snowy haze, big and gray against the icy white backdrop.The ramp hung open and several figures meandered around the opening.A welcome, yellow glow from the aircraft’s interior light reflected on the snow on the ground around the ramp.The Humvee slowly drove down the slope and turned facing us side on as we approached.The heavy machine gun attached to the turret on top swept the horizon in steady arcs.“I never thought I’d be so glad to see a military aircraft,” Smith sighed.Cordoba swung the snowplow alongside the C-17 then snaked the vehicle in a series of ‘S’ shapes, clearing an area for the fuel truck to park up.Kauffmann waited a few yards away, motionless in the gas tanker while she cleared the snow.When Cordoba was done, Kauffmann pulled the gas tanker alongside the C-17 and the refueling crew went to work, busily rolling out the thick hose and pumping the aviation fuel into the aircraft.Cordoba parked the snowplow next to the Humvee.We grabbed our weapons and climbed out of the cab onto the snowy runway.A brawny, hooded figure jumped out of the Humvee passenger seat and strolled through the flurry to meet us.“Good work, people but we’ll have to take care of Dyson,” Chief Cole barked.“We can’t afford to put everybody else’s life in jeopardy, especially not when we’re in mid-air.”Milner nodded.“We don’t know how long he’s got.”Cole called over two of the Marines standing on guard.He turned his back to us and talked quietly to the two guys.They nodded and headed towards the fuel truck.“I know it’s a shitty thing to do,” Cole shouted above the howling wind.“But we all know the outcome if somebody gets bit.”I watched as the two Marines pulled a bloodied figure from the fuel truck cab.They carried the body, who I recognized as Dyson, out onto the runway and disappeared from view into the haze.I knew what was coming but still flinched when I heard a single gunshot from somewhere in the fog.The two Marines emerged from the icy mist and their slouched body language told me they hadn’t relished their brutal task.They nodded once at Cole as they passed by.Job reluctantly done.Cole responded with an appreciative nod of his own and the two Marines returned to sentry duties beside the refueling truck.I was desperate for a cigarette to help calm my nerves but I knew smoking while in the vicinity of pumping aviation fuel was a big no-no.We stood in silence in a horizontal line with our M-16’s at the ready, staring into the snowstorm, waiting for the refueling crew to finish up and watching out for any zombies stumbling through the blizzard towards us.Capaldi’s voice through the headsets broke the silence.“Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, guys but the fuel on that tanker is not going to be enough to reach our intended destination.”“Shit!” Cole growled through his hood.“There are two more trucks inside the motor pool,” Milner said.“Both are gassed up to the brim.”“Looks like we’ll have to go back in there and get them, I’m sorry to say,” Cole groaned.I felt my body physically sag.We’d been through hell to get the fuel truck out to the aircraft and now we were going to have to go do it all again.I didn’t know how much more my nerves could take.Chapter FortyChief Cole suggested Smith and I sit this mission out but we wanted to be involved.We knew the motor pool layout and could provide directions back through the blizzard.Cole reluctantly agreed and briefed the personnel he chose to re-enter the terminal building.I was pleased when he picked me to ride shotgun alongside Cordoba in the snowplow.Smith and Kauffmann would return with us and hop into the next fuel tanker when we got back inside the motor pool.An aircrew driver, Milner, Amato, and the two Marines who took care of Dyson would follow us in the Humvee to provide extra fire power and cover us when we swapped vehicles.I handed over the sets of gas truck keys and the M-9 handgun to Kauffmann.Cole wished us luck and told us not to waste any time in returning.I didn’t intend to prolong our stay at Halifax Airport in the middle of a freezing winter snowstorm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]