The engine let out a powerful roar as LCPL Sykes slammed harder on the accelerator. Dirt, dust, and other debris kicked up from behind them as they went. John desperately tried to reach his son with his satellite phone, quickly punching in the phone number given to him by Candice’s friend, Tracy. His efforts were answered abruptly by a worthless answering machine. John felt his stomach twist into a knot. 

The Humvee barreled past the front gate at Camp Pendleton, which was left wide open. Straggling walkers were busy feasting on the corpses of the guards. The sound of helicopter rotors could be heard close by, which prompted Gunnery Sergeant Shull to tap John on the shoulder.

“Sir do you hear that!” Gunny exclaimed. “Look over to your one o’clock. Those are Super Stallions taking off on the flightline!”

John put down the phone and looked up to see three Super Stallions take off from the flightline a few blocks down the road. As they drove closer, they could see a crowd of civilians hysterically struggling to push past Marines and board the remaining aircraft. John scanned the faces of the crowd, and noticed that there were children among them. 

“Stop the truck!” John yelled. 

Sykes brought the Humvee to a halt, and John flew out of the passenger door. Gunny Shull was in close pursuit. 

“Private Barns, keep your head on a swivel and don’t let anyone near the Humvee!” Gunny called back, as he and John ran towards the crowd. 

Barns chambered a round into the .50 cal, which made a distinctive CHAA—CHUUNK sound. Private Williams hopped out of the passenger seat and pulled security on the left side of the vehicle, while LCPL Sykes kept the engine running and ready to go.

When they reached the crowd they noticed that a horde of walkers had reached the flighline, and continued to pour over the barbed-wire fences that surrounded the area. John knew he didn’t have much time. Marines began to abandon their posts and leave the civilians behind. It became a desperate race to the remaining helicopters. John vigorously searched the crowd for his son. The horde of walkers crashed into the civilians and Marines, and began to hungrily tear their bodies apart. John could see walkers pouncing on men, women, and children alike. There was no mercy. He could hear the agonizing screams of little boys and girls helplessly crying for their mothers. He gritted his teeth and kept his rifle close. He could hear Gunny Shull’s footsteps close behind him.