The Neuropathology Of Zombies Read Free Page A

officer said. “There’s nothing else I can do. We’ll have to wait for help.”
Ramos nodded and exited the building. He joined the rest of his unit as they sat outside. No one spoke.
A 40-foot concrete wall separated the barracks from the outside world. The only way in or out was the through the main gate. Outside the barracks, the raging crowd pounded on the gate. The officers watched it vibrate from the constant barrage and wondered how long the steel could hold.
The sun was beginning to set as the Chief gathered his troops for an announcement. His grave expression prophesized bad news. “I’ve been on the phone with the Governor. The government has dissolved; the entire senate has either been killed or has fled into the countryside.”
The officer’s eyes widened. “They’ve abandoned us!” cried one of the men.
“No, the Governor informs me the Americans are coming. There’s a ship close by. They’ve been given our coordinates and should be here tonight. We just need to hold tight a little longer, help is on the way!” the Chief said. After speaking he sat with his men and waited for the Americans.
The vocalizations from the mob amassing around the barracks seemed more sinister as night fell. The majority of the officers spent the evening inside the station, shielding themselves from the terrifying racket. A few men lingered outside, standing guard over the encampment. They had no choice but to listen to the unnerving groans and wails that floated over the top of the wall.
“Do you hear that?” asked one of the officers.
“No, what?” his partner replied.
“Shhh, listen!”
Both men stood still. They could barely hear a gentle flapping sound. The noise grew louder and the two officers were sure it was mechanical. They gazed into the sky and saw a soft yellow light glowing in the distance.
“Helicopter!” they shouted simultaneously.
Within a few seconds of hearing the rotors, the men emptied from the station and ran into the parking lot. A loud cheer erupted as the helicopter descended. Overcome by a sense of relief, the officers embraced each other.
The officers watched the helicopter land on the roof and the wind from the rotating blades blew sand into their eyes. The surrounding street lights reflected off the black fuselage, but it was hard to gauge the size of the machine in the dark. The Sergeant was disappointed, and thought to himself, “It doesn’t look big enough to hold many soldiers.” The chief smiled at his men and straightened his uniform before walking into the barracks to greet the visitors.
The blades were still slowing when a tall Marine, a General, stepped off the craft. He appeared to be in his late fifties and his muscular physique was visible under his desert fatigues. The police chief hurried towards him.
“General, thank you for coming to our Island.”
“I assume you’re the Police Chief?” the General said.
“Yes, sir, I’m Chief...,” the Chief spoke, trying to introduce himself.
The General interrupted, “Ok, show me around the building, I need to see where we can set up. There’s another helicopter en route with our gear. I’ll also need a detailed map of the island. We need to establish a perimeter and seal off this rock pile, now.”
The General walked towards the stairs without introducing himself. The Chief thought he saw the name ‘Fitch’ stitched across the Marine’s chest. The Chief was offended by the General’s abruptness, but somehow he admired it.
The Chief led General Fitch down the four flights of stairs to the modest conference room on the ground floor of the station. The area was small and a round table took up most of the space. One of the police officers unrolled a map of the Island and laid it on the table. The General stood over the map flanked by the Chief, a few other police officers, and a handful of Marines. They carefully studied the geography.
The Chief spoke as he pointed at the map, “The town is on the eastern coast of the