Minerva's Shield

Fifteen people were selected for the mission. They were all required to wear full combat rigs, including bulletproof vests, helmets, BDUs, combat boots, M-4 or AR-15 rifles, with a shotgun or two thrown in for good measure. Available gas masks were issued, as well as sidearms, combat knives, first aid kits, canteens, energy bars, MREs, flashlights, and anything else people could think of that might come in handy. This time out, Bob let Morgan take the lead vehicle, since he was quite familiar with the route to Fort Gordon. Jeff Parker sat up front with Morgan, so he could point out the entrance to the Augusta data bunker. It was a long, boring drive and Bob napped most of the way. When they arrived, they discovered the setup was similar to the Jasper data bunker, with a heavy gate across the access road. Once through that, the reinforced cement road led off into the trees. The convoy made their way slowly, drivers a little on edge and their passengers even more concerned with what they might find. The trucks all came to a stop outside the main vault door. The team members scrambled out, grabbing weapons and gear. When everyone was ready, they spread out and crouched forward. Bob motioned for Morgan to move to one side of the bunker entrance, while he scurried around to take a look at the garage. The entire facility looked sealed up tight, which made sense. “Do you know the access code to the vault door?” Morgan asked Jeff. Parker nodded. “Unless they changed it, I should be able to unlock it.” “Have at it, my friend.” Jeff punched the letters and numbers into the keypad. Thump, thump, click. The locks disengaged. “One more time, everybody, stay alert,” Morgan reminded the team. “Wait for the emergency lights to come on,” Jeff warned. The heavy vault door moved slowly. Squawk! A shrill wailing sound greeted them. Suddenly they heard the sound of running footsteps. A hurtling shape knocked Morgan to the ground! It charged through the opening, heading straight for Ian. Hands were extended to attack, while the creature screamed horribly. Bob aimed his .45, emptying the magazine into the rushing form as it went past. At such short range, the bullets all hit the target. Blood splattered all over Ian. The two-legged thing was dead as the perforated body slid across the ground. “Jesus!” Ian shouted, firing his AR-15 from the hip as he retreated. There followed a rush of dark forms, screaming maniacally and surging forward. Blam, blam, blam, blam, blam, blam, blam. They were no match for seven weapons firing at once. Blood and guts and brains soaked the far wall of the entrance tunnel. In a matter of seconds, it was over. “Zombies, dude,” Rumen said, his voice shaking a little. “Not exactly,” Matt said. Morgan got up slowly, as Ian lifted his mask to wipe away the mess. Bob patted him on the back. “Take a few minutes. Breathe.” Matt went forward, handing off his shotgun to Alex and reloading Ian’s AR-15 with a fresh magazine. He stood at the ready, just in case. Bob flipped the nearest body over with his boot. Jeff Parker gasped. “I knew him, once. That was Ron Hamilton, the regional supervisor. He trained me.” “Look at them,” Ian said, after regaining his composure. “They’re deformed.” Upon closer examination, it was quickly discovered that Ian’s statement was correct. Each of their heads was misshapen by what looked like incredible pressure or force. Their eyes were glazed over with a yellow film and certain facial features had been removed, such as their nose and lips. They had once been human, but something horrible had distorted their features. “So, somebody did survive after all,” Morgan said. “If you can call it that,” Ian commented. “None of these poor creatures have ears,” Kathryn Berg pointed out. “It’s as if they were melted off.” “Was it radiation?” Ian wondered. “I don’t think so,” Kathryn said. “The damage doesn’t look like it was caused by heat, but by crude surgery. The ear channels have been sown shut.” “Maybe they didn’t like music,” Rumen suggested. Everybody looked at him with dismay. His humor was difficult to get used to at times. “Look, I’m serious,” Rumen defended himself. “Maybe these people couldn’t stand something they heard, so they blocked it out.” Kathryn continued to seriously contemplate the theories running around in her head. Then just like a light bulb blinking on, she had an answer. “Remember that horrible sound we heard on the day that everything ended?” “Who could forget?” Matt said. “Perhaps these poor souls were sealed in this bunker like we were, only to be driven to desperation to shut out that horrible noise,” Kathryn went on with her theory. “Insanity followed and they might have been wandering through the bunker aimlessly, no longer capable of rational thought or behavior.” “Seems like a logical explanation,” Jeff said. Kathryn smiled. “Thank you.” Jeff smiled back. “You’re welcome.” “Hey, it was my idea that gave Kathryn her idea,” Ruman protested. Ian patted his best friend on the back. “Never mind, girls always win.” Bob pointed to his son. “Take your strike team and check the rest of the bunker.” “Roger that,” Ian replied. “Come on gang, let’s see what we find.” “Jeff, let’s check out the command center and you should take whatever you think we can use with us,” Bob suggested. “I’ll form a burial detail,” Morgan volunteered. “It’s the least we can do for these poor souls.” Flashlights turned on, weapons ready to open fire, the group moved cautiously into the main entrance corridor. Progress was slow, the floor was slippery with blood and because everyone was understandably a bit jumpy. The air was foul and the facility looked as if it had been no more than a poorly managed zoo, or torture chamber. There was human excrement everywhere, along with pools of congealed blood. Most of the computer servers had been destroyed, along with smashed monitors. Everyone was nervous and kept their weapons handy. With Greg’s help, Parker managed to restart the diesel generators and soon there was power. The lights came on, casting a constant glow on the shocking signs of inhumanity. The facility was in complete shambles, with just about everything tipped over, broken, or ruined with urine, feces, and vomit. Ian was glad his father had insisted on wearing masks. He kept the shotgun at the ready, as he and his team searched each room. They found no other survivors or deformed creatures. “There’s no point in trying to salvage anything here,” Jeff concluded. “I think we should move on to your Fort Gordon, see what we find and make preparations for the night.” “I agree,” Alex said. “All right, everybody, let’s board up and get going,” Bob called out. Headcount completed, the convoy set off for Fort Gordon. It took an additional forty minutes to reach the main gate, for as they drove nearer Augusta, the roads became graveyards of abandoned vehicles. Eventually they had to get off the highway and work their way on back roads and even cross-country. This kind of travel was especially difficult for the Big Truck and Bob was grateful that Mike and Greg were handling it. The front gate to the base had vanished. The cement security blocks had been pulverized into gravel and the guard hut was nothing more than shattered glass and rubble. Bob supposed that Fort Gordon had received several direct hits from lightning, based on the scorch damage, which was very similar to what they had seen before. Several people had to get out and clear the debris to allow the convoy to pass. As they slowly made their way along the main compound road, all eyes were surveying the damage. Several wooden buildings had burned to the ground, charred timbers all that remained. Some of the brick and cement structures were missing all the windows and the roofs had been ripped away.