The bunker was in a terrible condition, but still somehow kept them out. The generator had been out before they had even got there. The enemy troops obviously hadn’t taken good care of it,

Captain Andrew Queen stood in the centre of the room he’d designated as ‘operations’. In front of him was three other soldiers; they didn’t have much time to talk so he got straight to the point.

“Report situation…”

“The crazy people are still outside, there was thirty of them outside at last count, but more were spotted heading this way,” said private James Like,

“Ammunition and supplies are fine, we should be able to survive at least a month even if we don’t conserve ammo,” reported Lieutenant Carlin,

“We have placed our injured in what appears to be the medical bay of this base. The conditions are terrible but we are doing the best we can, I should be getting back to check on them soon,” added the medic John Reeves.

Captain Queen gave a quick nod and the three soldiers left the room. The reports had been like that for four days now, only now the injured are suffering from bites and scratches from some Iraqi nut jobs.

Private Like headed towards the lookout but paused by the entrance. He frowned as he heard the dull rhythmic banging from the people outside. He asked the sentry by the door for his rifle. The rookie handed it over instantly. He reached up and slid open the eye slot. The view at first was clear; suddenly a man’s face came into view. The guy looked filthy he groaned at the door.

James lifted the rifle and stuck the barrel out the hole. The man grasped it and tried to tug it, but soon decided to slip it into his mouth. Dumb shit thought James as he pulled the trigger the gun let off a four round burst. The bullets popping the man’s head, two others out of view let out a moan of protest. Private Like pulled the gun inside and shut the slot, handing the rifle back to the rookie.

“Thanks.”

Ignoring the soldier’s confused look, he headed to the ‘perch’. The ‘Perch’ was so called because it offered a higher view of the area in front of the bunker.  Under the orders of Captain Queen, it was manned by at least one person at all times, armed with a high-powered sniper-rifle.

Currently it was the resident marksman Marcus, who had the post. James was back-up incase the sniper felt tired. He got to the perch to see his fellow soldier taking aim at something. Private Like smiled and had a look down at the crazies. Their numbers were increasing steadily, in fact they had five more ‘recruits’ during the meeting alone. James heard the almost inaudible ‘putt’ of the silenced shot, and saw the crazy drop like a rock as his brain matter exited his skull in micro particles.

Meanwhile back in medical bay, John was seeing to the injuries of the fallen soldiers. Normally a calm and confident man, Medic Reeves was confused. During the meeting four of his five ‘patient’s had died. His assistant Private Severn had already dumped the bodies in the makeshift morgue next door.

Morgue was a strong word though it was more of a cupboard, with a total of now thirteen dead soldiers. They were just dumped in there, on the floor, rotting. The very fact was destroying John, he felt as if he was disrespecting his deceased comrades. The one surviving soldier was unconscious a fever raving through his body.

The experienced medic decided he’d have to change the bandage on the man’s right arm. Opening the pouch at his side, he pulled out a small pair of surgical scissors. Carefully he cut away the bandage; it fell away revealing a nasty gouge in his bicep. The injury caused by some Iraqi woman who bit him. The wound looked quite bad; a purple hue seemed to bloom around it. Splashing some water carefully onto the wound, he quickly wrapped a new bandage around it. Tying it off tightly, he turned to his associate.

“I think we need to have a word with the Captain, we really should look at getting the generator fixed.”

“Why Sir?”

“What this man needs is better care than what I can give him here, so we need to arrange an airlift to somewhere cleaner.”