Chapter 2
The whole Valley looked dead, except for the columns of smoke rising over the urban areas. We overflew the Academy: West Point. It was in lock down mode, serving as a Tactical Operations Center for ground commanders in the Hudson Valley, fighting a holding action against the millions of zombies and refugees coming out of the City.
A pair of Apaches circled high over the top of Storm King Mountain, like vultures looking for some Zs to swoop down on. “64 traffic over the point this is voodoo 41 flight of two NOE over the river, we got you guys in sight, we’re no factor for you” I called a courtesy “heads up” call to them so they didn’t shoot near us or hit us when they fuck around and crash, as 64 Pilots love to do. “What’s up voodoo, yeah we see you guys, you guys headed down to the city?”
“RodgO fourteenth trip this week,” I pushed back.
“Good luck fellas, I hear it’s a mad house down there stay safe”.
“Thanks guys, you too. Good hunting.”
Jackal sped up to 150 knots over the water, the brown and grey burbles of the Hudson spit up at us. It was a choppy day, and the ribbons of oil and chemicals were bright and vibrant, reflecting like a rainbow like oil puddles you see in parking lots. We banked hard to the right and Jackal pulled the aircraft into a steep cyclic climb over the Bear Mountain Bridge and then cranked the aircraft over hard on the left and gave her a healthy nose down attitude, BONG BONG BONG! The radar altimeter was going off. Out of the side window I could see the Armored Personnel Carriers parked on either end of the bridge. I could reach out and touch them, almost.
200 feet…
100 feet…
75 feet…
25 feet.
The aircraft lurched back up, I felt the pull and hard sink of 2G’s as he leveled her back out. The Rotors and engines whine happily as they spun up while increasing speed.
“…annnnnnnnd level.” He said with a smirk, “oh look at that bro 15 feet! New record!”
He was a sick fuck, but he was one hell of warrant officer, my unit instructor pilot. Jackal was a crusty infantry E7 from back in the day; he was in a Long Ranger Reconnaissance Team and was the dude in Iraq with the black patches on his ACUS and a goatee, he had 20 years in the military and had the “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. HE had learned to fly helos after 15 years in the Army, passing the flight exams with ease. He pushed the “I’m a pilot I’ll get away it with” card to the max. He rolled his sleeves up when he flew and rocked his standard issue Oakley half jackets under his flight helmet with a black superman patch on his helmet visor. He was going to get out before the Zs rolled in, he wanted to be a science teacher and move back to Vegas to retire. So much for that plan!
“Alright Lex you have the controls bro, I got the radios.” I took the controls and brought us back up over the mountains; there was a cliff face just adjacent to the Nuclear Power Plant that I loved to fly down.
“Coffee man! Tune up 770 on your ADF.” Jackal said on internal.
“Jackal I swear if It’s more of that right wing Sean Hannity shit I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“Nah bro check it out.”
I pushed my switch down on the ADF and grinned in approval as “all along the watch tower” came on over the radio. The city skyline started to come into view; it was a warzone. The skyscrapers were crumbling, some were on fire, the Empire State Building’s lights were all Red for what Jim thinks means “stay the FUCK away” the City was a mad house of Reavers, Zs , Looters and freaked the fuck out civilians.
“Alright drop down over the water, let’s mix it up, over the bridges, watch for jumpers, lets head around the lady, down over wall street, around the Harlem River, Yankee stadium and we’ll approach the pier to the east.”
Flying over the city was fraking awesome, but a mad house of helicopter traffic. The Marines had their damned hands in everything ruining it for everyone as usual. They operated the evac of most of Long Island and had set up shop at JFK, flying people out to the ships.
“Kennedy Tower Voodoo 41, flight of two 60’s south bound at the face, requesting a south east bound transition over wall street, to the Harlem.”
The controller came back to in a heavy Brooklyn accent. “Yeahh uh Rodger that 41, approved as requested, report Lady remain below 500 ft. Heavy helicopter traffic in the vicinity of Ft. Hamilton, and the Intrepid.”
“41 copies all.” Jackal took was taking some action shots with his iPhone as we came around the Statue of Liberty. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?” Slim laughed over the radio, I looked over that the Statue of Liberty and was shocked. “Some mother fucker spray painted a fucking mustache on the Statue of Liberty.” Thompson was arching over his chair tying to get a good look.
The sound of the secure radio double beep popped on in my helmet “Hey Lex you guys see that, looks like someone tagged up the Lady!”
I replied “Haha yeah man, that’s fucking hilarious. But seriously…. What a bunch of dicks.”
“I would have painted a big fat penis on it.” Spc Edwards blasted over internal.
“I’ll paint your mom with mine” Jackal shot back over internal “You don’t fuck with ’Merica!”
“Dude that guy doesn’t get a Black Hawk ride out of NY, what a doucher.” I replied.
You could see the fires and Zs in the streets, the ground guys were putting the smack down on the Zs. Burst of .50 cal, the rapid fire of 240s, were lighting up the streets, the body parts, and bright red clouds of mist exploded throughout the horde. Some navy cats in a PT boat were doing a drive by along the Wall Street helipads. I brought us down for a close look.
“Now that’s fucking gangster,” Slim said as he held his GoPro camera out this window. The PT boat had the M260 30mm chain gun on it, the same one that’s on the Apache; they were blasting the crap out of the Zs on the piers. They were massing on the pier, running full speed off the docks and falling into the water. Pieces of zombie flew over all over the place; the round exploded upon impact, turning the crowd into a killzone.
“Mind if we join in, Sir?”
“Hell yeah man! Light those bitches up!” *CHHHHCHHHHCHHCHHCHHHCHHCHHCHHCHHHHCHHHH
Slim’s 240 rained down 7.62 justice upon the mob of Zs. “Think I can set one of them on fire?” I asked Jackal.
“Hahah Idk bro, be careful don’t get too close to that 30mm.”
I sped up and tucked the nose, threw in some pedal and swooped about 30 feet over the mob, Jackal flipped the safety switch and I punched about 10 flares into the crowd. “yyyyyyyyyyyyyyup…” Slim keyed. “Anything?” I keyed back.
“Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyup…………. oh yeah BAHAHAH ohhh yeah!!” I couldn’t see as we had already flown past them.
“Are they burning?” I asked Slim again.
“Meh. I think you got the hedges that were next to the mob, maybe you got a couple, I wasn’t really watching.”
“Hahahah than why did you say yup?”
“Oh, I just saw a huge fat guy get ripped limb from limb by a couple Zs on the subway tracks and then get hit by a train.”
I just kept flying… “DUDE did you get it on camera!?” Jackal said.
Just then the radio beeped again. “1-1, 1-2: Did you guys just SEE fat guy get mauled and then hit by a train?” Buck said over internal. Jackal just looked at me and laughed in his usual way, and I keyed the mic shaking my head with a grin and said “As if your day couldn’t get any worse. Oh look there’s my train!”
Chapter 3
We flew low over the east side and over Yankee Stadium. Inside there were the remains of some survivors and what looked like a FEMA camp. Just then some tracer fire came straight up at out windshield from inside the stadium. I banked the aircraft to the left hard “1-1 taking fire from the 12 o’clock, I think it came from inside the stadium.” I felt the “plunk” noise of the aircraft taking hits, “1-1 taking hits”