Pam stepped into the private screening area and began taking her clothes off. “So what happens if I don’t clear?” She said nervously.
“I’ve cleared everyone except for three people so far…” Kelly hesitated, considering those she had not cleared. “We have a place for them to wait, and in a couple of days, they’ll be transported to the fleet.”
“So, if I don’t clear, I get to wait around with three people who may be infected?” Pam murmured.
“You’re clear.” Kelly said casually after a few moments of examining Pam. “You can get dressed now… If you hadn’t cleared, you would be waiting with four people.” Kelly spoke with reluctance, but decided it was better to be transparent. “I was unable to clear one of your team. He probably isn’t bitten, but we can’t take the chance. There’s also an engineer from San Onofre, and a little girl from the DDC. Her dad is staying with her… until she turns.” Breaking the news to the young girl’s father was among the most difficult things Kelly had ever done. The man’s eyes had welled with tears as she explained to him what to expect and how to take precautions after the girl turned. “There’s a camp set up on the roof of this building.”
Pam dressed herself while she dwelled on the soldier from her team that had not been cleared. She stepped out from behind the curtain and looked at Carl. He had heard Kelly and his grief was masked beneath a veneer of optimism. The idea that he might lose yet another man under his command, was a heavy burden that he hid too well.
Kelly used a black permanent marker on Pam’s hand to signify that Pam had passed the screening. She now had access to the fleet. “You’re up.” She motioned for Carl to step behind the curtain.
Carl undressed, and Kelly inspected him for injury. Kelly was satisfied he had not been bitten after a brief inspection. “You can get dressed.”
“Control room! This is a code orange! Code orange!” Lieutenant Commander Holt shouted into a walkie-talkie. He ran from Building One, past the screening facility, and toward the entrance of Building Two with an entourage of soldiers.
Without a word, the Marine security guard that had been assigned to the screening facility burst into a sprint to join his commanding officer.
“What’s a code orange?” Kelly asked Private Heimbach.
“The outer fence has been breached.” He stood up nervously. “We should get to Building Two.”
Miguel struggled to his feet with the help of two improvised crutches — a coat rack sawed to the proper length and two canes duct-taped together. “Just so you all know, I’m tripping one of you if they come after us.” His still-wet cast dripped a milky white puddle on the ground.
A female voice came over the PA system. “All personnel, please make your way to Building Two immediately and follow the directions to the roof. The outer fence has failed. I repeat, all personnel, please…”
Gasps and screams could be heard around the power plant as people reacted to the news. Everyone in the vicinity began to rush toward Building Two.
“Why is there no gunfire?” Carl asked as Kelly quickly inked his hand.
“We have standing orders to save the last of our ammunition to defend the rooftops.” Private Heimbach answered. They began to follow the movement towards Building Two.
Carl punched the button for his communications network. “Convoy Nineteen personnel, please make your way to Building Two immediately.”
“Will do, sir. On our way…” a voice came back. “We have some older folks we need to move and its taking some time. Much of the convoy team had been helping with supplies from Building One.”
The silhouettes of the undead outside the fence seemed endless. Behind leering forms pressed up against the chain links, the horde disappeared into the blackness of the night. Here and there, the unmistakable clang of a fencepost snapping and clattering to the ground echoed through the darkness. San Onofre’s lights cast a dim orange halo of illumination, but in the shadows beyond, there lurked monsters.
Inside Building Two was a well-lit hallway. Large arrows were spray-painted on the floors and walls, and they directed refugees to the roof. Two marines knelt just inside the main entryway. They scanned the perimeter with their rifles as people rushed past.
“Can we do anything to help?” Carl asked the sentries.
“Just get to the roof, sir. Everything is under control.” One of the marine’s stated dryly. He flipped his night vision goggles from his helmet to his eyes and back again. He repeated the gesture twice, took aim with his rifle, and pressed a button on his shoulder radio. “WDs inside the fence approaching west side entrance.”
“Copy that,” a voice came back, “WDs approaching east side entrance as well. Hold your position.” Suddenly, gunshots rang out from the other side of the building.
“Who wants to give me a piggy back ride?” Miguel tried to cut the tension…
“Let’s go.” Carl nodded and spoke into his command network again. “Convoy Nineteen personnel, get to the roof of Building Two ASAP. WDs have breached the outer fence and this place will be crawling with them.”
“We’re coming, sir,” a voice replied.
“Time is of the essence…” Carl swam through his thoughts to pair a name with a voice, but failed, “…soldier.”
Private Heimbach and Carl came to Miguel’s aid, and they followed the arrows to the roof. By the time they got to the stairwell, it was vacant — the sound of fleeing footsteps echoed down to them from above.
“Go go go!” someone shouted from the hallway. A second later, the stairwell door was flung open, and a handful of marines rushed in. “C4” someone ordered. Another soldier began fixing small grey balls to the bottom of the ground floor staircase.
“This is gonna hurt,” Carl warned Miguel.
“Yep, go!” Miguel took a deep breath.
Carl and Private Heimbach began frantically rushing up the stairs carrying Miguel. Kelly followed hastily. Pam carried Miguel’s crutches at the rear.
They thrust open the door to the roof to be greeted by a grim looking Lieutenant Commander Holt. A dozen marines sat on the edge of the roof, firing at the ground below. A large crowd of civilians fought with each other over seats in a helicopter that was sitting on the rooftop landing pad.
An armed soldier stood between the panicked mob and the helicopter. “Please remain calm. Everyone will get their turn! We’re safe up here. Just board the transports in an orderly manner, and we’ll have everyone out of here in no time.” The lights of a second helicopter were already approaching from a distance, but many in the crowd continued pushing and shoving for a spot.
Carl, Miguel, Pam, and Kelly, rushed over to the edge of the roof to look out into the darkness. The vanguard of the undead hordes had begun to surround the building. Sporadic gunfire would ring out, but the effort was futile. An endless wall of ghouls swarmed around the building.
“Shit, look!” Miguel gasped under his breath.
A dozen people burst from Building One and ran frantically toward Building Two. Undead began converging on them from all directions, and soldiers from the roof of Building Two did their best to cover them as they moved.
Carl fell to his knees. “Shit…”
Four convoy crewmembers lead the charge from Building One. Two had young children on their backs as they ran firing their weapons. They were spending the last of their ammunition to buy precious seconds.
“Everyone down!” Holt shouted as he crouched. All the marines did as ordered. Screams and panic erupted from the civilians who followed suit.