Static. “This is the United States naval vessel, USS Arliegh Burke to anybody...can anybody hear this transmission?” Static. *** Commander Joe Bryant, technically the Commanding Officer of the Naval Hospital, went down the stairwell. He could hear them in the darkness below. The doors had finally given; the barricaded windows succumbed to the force exerted by bodies that pressed against, and evntually tumbled through, oblivious to the cuts and gashes that would incapacitate a normal human being. “They’re pouring in!” Madeline Bosley called from the emergency door that led to the roof and opened up to the helicopter landing pad. “I know,” Joe whispered to himself. “How long until Rick is ready to try and fly that damned helo?” That they even had a chance of escape was a miracle. Nobody had heard from the copter since the second day after the outbreak began. It had responded, just like almost every other source of civil-aid or defense, to an emergency call.
