Only the Dead Live Forever by W. J. Lundy

entrance.
    The plan was
simple. The Marines would go into the lounge, reinforce the doors, and make as
much noise as possible, luring the mob to them. Sean, Brad, and Brooks would
shoot them from their elevated position on the roof. The upside—they should be
able to put them down and stay relatively safe; the downside—they would deplete
most of their ammo for the sniper rifles.
    Sean told the
men to prepare themselves; they would start the purge as soon as it got dark and
the creatures were most active. The men left the room excited—glad to be back
on mission and ready to take back the platform.

 
    9.
     
     
     
    Brad was in the
first floor lounge helping the Marines pile furniture against the doors. They
had slid the heavy pool table against them and piled chairs (and anything else
they could lift) on top of it. They didn’t think the primals could breach the
fire doors, but why take risks if they didn’t have to? Swanson was getting the
men into position. Sean had put the corporal in charge of the Marine privates,
and she had excelled at the position.
    “You ready,
Swanson?”
    “Yeah Sergeant,
we got this, you just tell us when and we’ll make a heck of a racket. You guys
just make sure and kill all of them.”
    Brad pulled her
aside, away from the other Marines. “It won’t happen, but if they somehow
breach, make sure you get all of your people pulled back into the hallway
before you seal the second doors. I know you of all people understand that.”
    “Yeah,
understood Sergeant; and you’re right, that’s not going to happen.”
    “Okay, we got a
deal. I’m going to take Walkens up with me. When we’re in position, I’ll send
him back down to indicate it’s time to party.”
    Brad looked
around the room one last time. The Marines had done well with the barricades;
they had cut pipes to bang together as noise makers. He saw a large radio
sitting on a bench.
    “Hey, where did
you all find that?”
    Wilson grinned,
holding up the old boom box. “I found this old piece of junk in the janitor’s
closet. Has a cassette tape in it, figured if the batteries work, we can turn
it up as loud as it’ll go.  Worth a shot, right?”
    “Good thinking
Wilson! Alright Devil Dogs, if everyone is feeling hooah, hooah, I’m going to
head up top and get ready to kick this thing off.”
    “Ooorah!
Sergeant!” the Marines shouted.
    “Damn, y’all are
about as hard as woodpecker lips.” Brad laughed as he made his way up to the
roof being tailed by Walkens.
    Brad found the
ladder to the roof maintenance hatch and climbed his way to the platform that
rested below the helipad. He found Brooks and Sean perched on an overlook. There
were safety lines tied off to piping, and Brad clipped himself in. He
approached Sean at the edge of the roof and took a knee.
    “Okay Brad, I
want you to engage the targets in front of the door. Keep an eye on those
stairs leading to the helipad. We don’t want them getting above us. Make sure
nothing gets in. I’m going to take long shots of opportunity anywhere they pop
up. Brooks is on the other side of the roof. He will clear out the storage deck
and concentrate his fire on the stairs going down to the second deck.”
    “Okay, I think I
can handle that,” Brad said.
    “And another
thing … be damn sure of what you are shooting at. We are on an oil rig;
I don’t want to light this thing up and become a crispy critter,” Sean
finished.
    When everyone
was in position, Brad yelled to Walken to get back downstairs and tell Swanson
that it was ‘go time’. They heard him running through the hallway below. Brad
pulled his rifle into his shoulder and started searching the darkness. He took
deep breaths to relax himself as he ran through his pre-combat checks.
    The sun had just
set; he could just make out a few figures walking the decks with his naked eye.
His night vision was powered up and working perfectly. He pulled them down, and
watched the deck light up into green and