“Roger Mcomm, were coming over target now”
The helicopter soared across the plains toward its destination. Inside the ride was rough as the constant missions and lack of maintenance took its toll on the machine. Leaning out of the door and looking ahead the door gunner let out a loud “Woohoo” that carried over the deafening roar of wind and rotor blades, “There’s tons of the bastards! Woooo!!” he swung back to the large six barreled GAU machine gun, and locked his restraining strap into place.
As the copter banked high over the horde far below them the door gunner pulled the trigger and sent a stream of bullets from the rapidly spinning barrels. He watched, whooping with joy as he drew a line of destruction through the horde, laughing as bodies fell to the floor, limbs were torn from torsos and heads exploded like water melons hit by a truck.
In the cockpit the pilot leveled the vehicle out and began to slow the aircraft down, giving the door gunners on both sides a level platform to shoot from. He sat there holding the vehicle steady, watching the dials and listening to the machine as the vibrations from the firing door guns shuddered through the flight deck. Frowning the pilot clicked the mike channel open “Hey guys, cut the firing out for a second I think we might have a prob…”
He was cut off as the tail rotor tore clear of the helicopter with a metallic screech. Fighting with the control stick the pilot tried to hold the aircraft steady as it began to rotate and tilt into a dive earthbound.
Screaming in terror and anger the first door gunner kept his fingers pressed on the triggers, swinging the rotating barrels and their stream of death at the spinning mass of zombies below him, trying desperately to take as many to the grave with him as he could.
The aircraft smashed into the ground, sending rotor blades back into the air and out across the plain. Inside the door gunner groaned in pain. His arm was shattered and pinned between the flight deck and the twisted barrels of the GAU. He pulled and screamed out in pain as fresh blood sprayed across his face and chest. Pressing his free hand to his arm he tried to staunch the wound while he looked around the twisted cabin. In the cockpit all he could see was blood on almost every surface and twisted metal hanging from the ceiling. Swinging around to look behind him he saw the other gunner slumped backward with one of the helicopters landing skis protruding through his chest. Twisting back he looked out at the crash site and the scene of devastation before him.
Everywhere lay bodies, torn apart from both the crash and the rain of death they had been firing down only moments ago. As he sat, his life blood bleeding out across the twisted metal floor and vision fading he struggled to watch as figures moved into view, clambering over the piles of bodies as they made their way toward him. Pulling his pistol from its holster he shakily aimed at the figures and squeezed round after round off, each time he pulled the trigger, he counted the round out, until finally he reached number fifteen. As the first zombie pulled itself up toward him, he reversed the barrel, pointed the pistol at his own temple and pulled the trigger.