Battle of Fairview

No back story, little info, I'm probably not even going to name my main character. Deal with it.

Chapter 1

Fairview wasn't the worst place to make a stand. It had a good number of choke points, with a couple of well built buildings that had a commanding view of the city. Command had set up shop is one of them around the outskirts, an apartment in Staleham. Having learned from previous disasters, the first thing done was to disable the elevators and destroy all staircases leading to the first floor. Well supplied from regular airdrops, the only danger came from infected birds. Snipers, stationed in every window, left a wall of dead surrounding the fortress. However, after a few days, command decided a change of plan would be needed to achieve the propaganda smackdown they wanted. The snipers were doing a great job, but we weren't going to take the city by attrition. I was one of the first to get the news, my favorite sniping location was in a blown-out bedroom only a few minutes from the command post. A messenger brought me my new orders.

"Command wants everyone to group up with their squads, be ready in five mikes. Your CO will have further orders." Then he hustled off. I didn't envy him, the marine probably had to relay the orders to every soldier in the building. I packed up my M4 SOPMOD in a hurry. Individual squads were regularly sent out on patrol, but assembling the whole battle group? Command must have some deep shit planed out. For this operation, I was teamed up with the mechanized half of 4th Infantry, what used to be the 2nd Armored. After a quick equipment check, I roped down the empty elevator shaft to my platoon's assembly area, in the garage. The only area we had bothered to hold on to on the ground floor, the extra large garage held our entire motor pool, twelve Stryker APCs, twenty up-armored HMMWVs, and eight M1 Abrams MBTs. Beautiful. The problem had been that there wasn't enough ammo for a sustained operation. The helicopters had brought in enough food and ammo for us to hold the building, but not enough for much more than that. Or so I though. I could barely fit into the garage with the rest of my squad mates, there were more ammo crates than I had ever seen in my life. Like I said, deep shit had to be planned. Soon, the Sergent spoke. I hope I wasn't the last one to arrive, he was always a stickler for punctuality.

"Gather round, now that everyone is here," he said. "Command has big plans for 4th Infantry, and you guys are going into some heavy shit."
My thoughts exactly.
"Now, as I'm sure you've heard, a group of survivors chose to make a stand somewhere near Moorhurst. Our job is to push through to their location, secure it, pose for some pictures, then establish a line of communications with our command center here. Deceptively simple, it's gonna be some tough shit. Any questions?"

If you like it, I'll do more. If not, oh well.

I like it keep writing!

Thanks, I needed encouragement.

True urban warfare, what I was trained for. What I was made for. On every assignment since the outbreak, command had simply handed me a scope, and said "now you're a sniper." I'm a good shot, but sniping isn't my thing. Truth be told, I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I'd be just tickled to trade my scope for a bayonet and take on the whole damn horde. Well, maybe not the whole hoard. Anyway, I was very relieved to finally be able to do my job. Urban combat involves a symbiotic relationship between armor and infantry. Both have to look over the others shoulder. The infantry takes out any threats to the armor, while the armor puts the hurt on anyone threatening the infantry. Rumor was we might even be getting air support on this one. Taking Fairview had suddenly become priority one to Supreme Command. Not because of it's offensive or strategic value, but because of the major propaganda win it would be. To show the survivors that we could, and we would win this fight. That's why we got all the toys, because we all had to look nice for the reporters traveling with us. Most of them were pretty wimpy, but a few were the real deal, some of them had barely escaped the infection with their lives. I doubted they were in any real danger on this op, though. They'd be safe and secure in the middle of the convoy. The op started the next day, the convoy would roll at 0600.

I found out that I was stationed near the front, working as a gunner for one of the Stryker's M2 .50 cals, I'd love to see what they do to a zombie. The real thing I was excited about was the Mk 19's we'd just had fitted onto many of the convoy vehicles. The son of a bitch was a grenade launcher which fired at over 300 rpm. Basically, a machinegun. I probably wouldn't get to use it, though. Ammo for it was hard to manufacture, even before the war. The actual lead vehicle was an Abrams, which had a bulldozer blade bolted onto the front. My partner was a marksman, he would be watching my back and preventing any zombies from climbing onto the vehicle. The only real danger would be getting stuck of stopped, which would pretty much be a death sentence to all of us, if worst came to worst. I tried not to think about the possible outcomes as I clambered into the gunners turret. The infantry were stationed inside of the vehicles, large firing slits had been added so they could add another level of firepower. All in all, I think the mood was generally positive. Unless we were faced with a numberless hoard or we encountered technical difficulties, this was going to be a slaughter. In a good way.

After the last of the infantry saddled up, we started out. Not too fast of a pace, about twenty miles per hour, half of the Abrams top speed. About fifteen minuites in, we started calling in our first contacts. Nothing big, I didn't even fire my weapon for the first half hour. Then the zombies started... changing. They got more aggressive, faster. I could have sworn that some of then had changed color. But it didn't hinder us one bit. They were all torn to shreds the second we saw them. A few minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed. The average color had changed from grey to purple.

They were a little harder to take down, a little faster, a little stronger. Still, just cannon fodder. I fired in sustained bursts, just ten shots. Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam. The undead don't really react to being shot, they just kinda fall over or sometimes just pop. I soon found out the purpose of the bulldozer blade. The re-dead zombies were making a wall around us, so much that one of the vehicles might get stuck. I hoped we didn't have to drive over too many, they make a sickening splattering noise. Not something I cared to hear more than once. I was astounded to look at my watch and find that it had already been two hours since we left the assembly area. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess.

After I'm done, I'll re-title it and add chapter titles and a character bio.

Also break it up into more paragraphs, makes it easier on the eyes to read

Better? Still needs a little work, though.

IDEA: I'll set the spacing to 1.5, so it won't be so close together.

Much better

but you like the story?

Yes me likes very much

Next part please?

Coming, I just gotta find a time when I don't have school work.

Ya I know exactly what you mean, I've been completly overloaded on homework also.

Battle of Fairview- Behemoth Battle

The zombies never really stood much of a chance. Their “tactic” was to charge balls straight at us, moaning and screaming the whole time. Scary, but ineffective. Our 5.5mm NATO rounds tore them apart. Those hit by the SAW were especially gory, I saw one get its head torn clean off of its shoulders. The Abrams only fired every now and again; they had these things called canister shots. They basically turned the main gun into a giant shotgun, and could send dozens sprawling. I heard they also had some standard HEAT or SABOT, I couldn’t imagine what we would need them for.


After another fifteen to twenty minutes of shooting, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was my assistant gunner.

“You see that?” He asked. “Over by the burned out gas station!”

I turned my attention to the gas station in question, and immediately noticed what he was seeing.

“All Hitman vectors, slow up, slow up! Civilian contact, intent unknown, 5 o’ clock from lead vehicle!” I yelled into my headset. What my assistant had noticed was a little extra firepower coming from that station. Five gun barrels were pointed out, and now that we had stopped, I could hear yelling.

“Hey! Over here! Over here!”

“About time you guys showed up!”

Yeah, I didn’t think they would be hostile. Command said it was gonna turn out one of two ways: either they hated us, or we’d be fucking rockstars. It turned out to be the latter.

“Hitman units, form a protective arc around the station, dismount and secure the area.”

Cool. The civilians could give us some better directions to the outpost, if they lived there. We drove out vehicles into a protective semicircle, then began dismounting and mopping up the remaining zombies.

As it turned out, they weren’t really civilians. They were forward units from NATO that had been dispatched to most major cities to support military operations and aid the civilian population. They were still acquainted with the outpost, and were apparently on a scouting mission, to return to the outpost shortly.

“We just have to wait for one last patrol to report in,” explained their CO. “Should be any time now.”

After about five more minutes of catching up with the going-ons in Fairview, we spotted some movement down the street. Too fast to be zombies, the three figures were undoubtedly the last party.

“Hold up,” a NATO soldier said, “we sent out seven men. Where are the rest?”

We would soon find out. Panting and wheezing, the three soon made it to our position.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"One of them big fuckers is closing in!"
"FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
Apparently, the other four had run into the "big fucker". The color immediately drained from their CO's face.
"Do we have time to evac?" he asked.
"No, it's in between us and the outpost!" one of the three yelled.
Damn. Oh well. We were going to be in for this fight whether we liked it or not.
"Back to your vehicles, form up!" our commander barked.
We formed two lines of infantry in front, with the vehicles dispersed to the rear and sides. We had someone run out and place flares at 1000 and 565 meters, marking our kill zones. We settled in, and waited. About thirty seconds later, the ground started to shake.
BOOM
BOOM
About ten seconds later, again.
BOOM BOOM
BOOM BOOM
Then, a large blob appeared on our motion sensors. Moving closer, about 5 mph in speed. We were starting to see something. A large mob of undead, with a... huge thing leading the charge.
They tripped some of the NATO guy's explosives, tearing apart the smaller ones. The big one ran through unhurt. Then they hit some barbed wire, and more mines. Again, the wire was torn through by the red motherfucker. Then he tripped the first kill zone, the tanks and mounted weapons. The tanks belched canister shots and HEAT rounds, taking their toll on the smaller ones, and punching some holes in the big one. I was disgusted to see that his (its?) blood had half-congealed, leaving a Jell-o mess every time we got a hit. I tore up the smaller guys with the .50 cal, then switched to the MK 19 when the next kill zone was tripped- the short-range weapons and small arms. The smaller ones were almost gone, but the behemoth just kept coming. I lit him up with anti-personnel grenades, then switched to HE grenades. Nothing was working!
When he got to 400 meters, we all heard, above the gunfire, a low thump-thump-thump. Getting louder and louder, it was soon accompanied by a call over the radio.
"Hitman Delta, Steel Rain is inbound! Permission for danger-close?"
Steel Rain was an AC-130 Spectre gunship. Thank God. Four 20mm Gatling guns, two Bushmaster IIs, and two howitzers.
"Steel Rain, you are clear! Large red is priority!"
The sound was deafening, but gratifying. 105mm of hurt was poured onto the creature, he basically liquefied onto the pavement. He wasn't so tough.

Ho-rah.

awesome

I'll add another one pretty soon