The helicopter roared as it moved nimbly through the air. Mason looked down on the scenery below. Brush and weeds already overran the old fields, but the forests had not changed. Tall pines swayed gently as the chopper rushed over them. Beside him, Eli scribbled in a small notebook, struggling to write in the hectic wind of their journey. His voice crackled through their headsets, "Last drop is two med packs, water, and rations. Looks like we're picking up a doctor, too. After that, we're back to base."
The pilot gave them a thumbs up from the cockpit. "That's good news," he said. "We're getting low on fuel. They keep shorting me on every flight. Or they're real fucking bad at math. About fifteen minutes from the drop site. They'll top us off for the ride home."
Mason nudged the other soldier and pointed down into an empty field. Dusk was setting in already, but they could see the dark silhouettes moving quickly through the open spaces. Once the supply runs started, pilots reported the creatures following the choppers. They were fast, much faster than a regular human. Still not fast enough to keep up with the flights, so instead they worked through some relay, tracking the sound and sight of helicopters. Initially people worried the things could follow the supply runs to the refugee camps, but if that was the infected's goal, the creatures never acted on it. Mason had his own suspicions why, believing that the Queens didn't care about the humans so long as they didn't come close to the city centers. Since V was developed, the creatures had become more cautious about attacking humans.
Mason adjusted his rifle. His fingers nervously tapped the cartridge filled with the specialized ammo. A lab in Germany developed the chemical Vexant. The formula shipped out all over the world. Where bullets and bombs failed, a chemical cocktail succeeded. The substance acted as a counter agent to the virus which plagued the world, rendering the creatures inert, if only temporarily. Apparently it hurt like the fucking devil, too. The eggheads speculated even a little bit of pain to a creature who didn't know it otherwise would be a strong deterrent. A few people entertained other ideas that perhaps Vexant could reverse the infection entirely. Mason knew the rumors, but didn't believe them. He couldn't. He'd lost all his friends to the plague and moved on. Entertaining the idea that any of those things could be saved only guaranteed someone else would get turned.
On the horizon, he could see the lights of the settlement. The red zone covered everything east of the Mississippi, west of the Rockies, and the majority of southern Texas. The creatures didn't seem to care for the cold and didn't spread as easily through sparsely populated areas. Through a monumental effort, humanity set up a bulwark against the oncoming plague. It took a while, but eventually the new government was ready to reach out to the other pockets of survivors. When they came asking for volunteers for the supply runs, Mason was one of the first in line.
A grinding screech drew their attention. The helicopter jerked and dropped sharply. They stayed airborne, but the screeching grew louder. The pilot screamed back at them, "God damn mechanics. We're losing our rotor, I gotta put us down. We're going to come in pretty roβ"
They dropped with a sharp jerk and started spinning on the way down. They cleared the trees, and the pilot aimed for a relatively clear stretch of an abandoned road. Eli grabbed hold of Mason's arm, shoving a pack into his chest just as they crashed.
***
Mason coughed, sputtering dirt and grass out of his mouth. His whole body ached, and his head swirled. His sleeve felt wet. His knees burned. Behind the sharp ringing in his ears he could hear shouting, but couldn't focus.
I'm dead
, he thought.
Dying at least
. He inhaled and coughed more as smoke and dust filled his lungs.
No, not yet.
Not like this.
Get the fuck up.
Mason opened his eyes and peered through the darkness.
As they dropped, the pilot tried to aim for a clear spot, but couldn't steer. Instead of crashing in a field, they'd veered off into the outer edge of a forest. Eli and Mason unbuckled and threw themselves out of the crashing vehicle, choosing to risk impaling themselves on a tree branch than being crushed inside twisted metal. The pack blunted some of the damage during the fall, but as Mason assessed his injuries, he knew he had not come away unscathed. He had a gash in his left arm. Lacerations on his knees and thighs wetted his pants with blood. A twig stuck out from his thigh. Looking at it brought the throbbing pain. Breathing made his chest ache.
Bruised ribs, not broken.
As he tried to move, the world lurched. He turned his head and vomited.
And a concussion.
No time for that.
Raising up from the forest ground, he saw the source of the shouting. Eli was tramping through the dark forest, searching for the other soldier. "Here!" Mason called, his throat burning as he spoke. The dark figure responded and made his way over to the wounded man.
"
Holy shit, you're alive," Eli said, failing to hide his astonishment. "You were supposed to try and hook on one of the limbs, you fucking idiot, not just go crashing through the whole damn tree."
Mason managed a weak smile, "You grabbed hold of a limb? Sure, climbing down, if you want to be a pussy about it."
Eli's pack survived the fall in tact. From it, he started to produce bandages and other medical supplies. "Gotta be quick about this," he said as he worked. Mason inhaled sharply as a stinging fluid doused the gash in his arm. "Hell, you'll need stitches." Eli produced another odd implement, "This will have to do for now. Push it together." Mason followed instructions, grimacing through the pain. Eli quickly lined the cut with a jelly like substance that hardened rapidly, sealing the wound in a rather messy fashion. As he wrapped Mason's arm, he asked, "Anything else? Can you walk?"
Mason grabbed the small twig jammed in his leg, pulled it free, and slapped a bandage on it, "I'm fine." His eyes finally starting to focus, he looked towards the source of the smog. He could discern flame through the thick forest. "The pilot?"
Eli shook his head.
"
What was his name?" Mason asked, embarrassed he hadn't asked before. Names didn't do much good though. Better not to get attached.
"
Martin, I think," Eli responded. "Cockpit broke in half on the fall when the fuel went up. Did what he could. Grab as much gear as you can, best guess is we're fifteen miles from the refuge. All that commotion is bound to attract at least a few of the infected."
Mason's heart sank. He been so glad to survive the fall and see Eli still among the living that he forgot that they were deep in the red zone. Struggling to his feet as stiffness left him, he started to gather as much as he could. He found his rifle first, slinging it over his uninjured shoulder. After a few minutes, the pair of men had a few rations, six bottles of water, and three clips of V for their rifles and twelve rounds for each of their side arms. "Looking pretty fucking grim," Mason murmured.
Eli had his back to a tree, breathing heavily as he sipped from one of the water bottles. "The crash will distract them, but once they count the bodies, they'll start looking. As long as we keep quiet and move quickly, we should be fine. No big nests between here and the settlement. We have enough rounds to put down any stray infected we come across."
No sooner had he spoke than a lithe figure appeared across the small forest clearing. Mason hadn't seen one of the infected up close since the Fall. The burning wreckage silhouetted her figure as she moved quietly towards the flames. She looked like so many of them did, as if she had walked out of a pinup magazine with only one notable difference. Her eyes gleamed green in the pale light. She seemed above the world itself, as if even nature itself avoided contact with the unnatural creatures. In the dim light, Mason and Eli could see the creature's sexual perfection. Large, full breasts and a perfectly shaped ass accompanying a slender frame. This one seemed to have raven black hair and unusually puffy lips. Ideal to wrap around a cock.
The thought pervaded Mason's mind for only a moment. Perhaps his head injury would be enough to dissuade the creature's pheromone influence. His hand went to his rifle, but the creature did not turn their direction, instead vanishing into the darkness opposite them as it went to investigate the crash. "More will come soon," Eli said. "Let's go."
--
Despite his sore muscles and aching body, Mason found he could easily keep up with the less injured Eli. They didn't run, but kept a steady jog as they moved east towards the settlement. They each carried a short wave radio and had a brief discussion about calling ahead for help. "Settlements don't open their gates after dark. Hard and fast rule. Asking them to break that and risk the whole colony isn't worth it. Not for two half broken supply runners."
Mason didn't like to hear it, but knew his partner was right. It would have worried him more, but other than the initial infected, they hadn't encountered any trouble in their journey.