Extinction Level Event (Book 4): Rescue
Page 17
“We took the wrong majors,” said Emily.
“I don’t think a mental health facility would appreciate my tactics. I slapped the shit outta him.”
“Good. He deserves it. Next comes Angela’s wooden spoon.”
Phebe laughed. “That’s what I said.” She stood and looked over the railing. “I wonder if we can order hot tea from here.” She looked for helpful people below and spotted Nia. “Hey, Nie, huge favor?”
Nia looked up. “Sure.”
After ordering two cups of green tea with honey, the pair awaited their room service.
“She doesn’t give us attitude,” said Emily.
“No. Nia has nice girl syndrome towards us. But teenagers. Maybe I was an ass towards my mom, too.”
They heard a door open in the hall behind them. They jumped to their feet to accost whoever it was.
Matt.
“What are you doing?” Emily demanded.
“I need to relieve Dr. Jenkins at Chris’s bedside.”
Phebe asked, “Who’s your second to go there?”
Matt sardonically laughed. “I don’t need a second. I’m a soldier.”
“No,” said Emily. “The rule is pairing up.”
“I don’t give a fuck what rules are here.”
He began to walk towards the stairs. Emily rushed into his path.
“Excuse me, please.”
“You are being a royal asshole.”
“That would mean so much to me if I cared about your opinion, Miss Goldstein. Now, please, step aside.”
“Why are you behaving this way?”
“I am not doing anything. It’s all of you.”
“That’s just what crazy people say. It’s everyone else.”
He looked at the ceiling and shook his head. Anger rose, reddening his cheeks. “I’m not doing this with you. Step out of the way or I’ll remove you from it.”
“You threatening me?”
Phebe, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, smirked. Emily had a set of cannonballs. Typical New Yorker.
Matt turned to her. “Would you do something about your friend?”
She snickered. “My friend? That sounds so weird.”
“Phebe, don’t you be a pain in the ass too.”
“Me? Not much for looking in the mirror lately, huh, Matt?”
“Okay. Whatever.” He took Emily by the shoulders and moved her aside.
“Hey!” she protested.
“Let him go,” Phebe said. “If he wants to risk his life … again … he’s an adult. Sort of.”
He glared at her. “Whatever.” Down the elliptical staircase.
Emily watched him go.
From the bottom, Nia’s voice, “Whoa!”
“Sorry, Nia. Excuse me.”
“Nearly knocked me over, Matt.”
“Sorry. Gotta go.”
“Where? Who’s your second?”
His noises were outside.
They returned to the balcony.
“Who’s your second?” Jayce asked from below.
“Not you too. C’mon, people.”
“Maze,” Jayce called.
Nia came out onto the balcony. She carried a tray with three cups.
“Can I join y’all?”
“Sure,” said Phebe. “Bring out a chair.”
“We’ll watch the Matt Gleason show,” said Emily. She pressed her bare feet against the railing and rocked her chair on its hind legs.
Down below, Mazy’s voice, “What’s going on, Matt?”
“I guess I have to ask permission, unlike Phebe and Mullen did.”
“Permission for what?”
He blew out air so forcefully, they heard it from above. “To go to the Molly and take a shift with Chris. Remember Chris? Going septic friend of ours? Or does no one care?”
“Don’t be bitchy.”
“I don’t need a second with me. It’s just across the street.”
“You were the one complaining about lack of military discipline, and here you are, disobeying the established rules. What do you have to say about that?”
“You have a bunch of civilians that run wild. That’s where the military discipline needs to be enforced. Not on a sergeant in the Army.”
“Well, as a sergeant in the Army, it would fall to you to discipline them. To train them. I’ll give you Corporal Pell to assist you in this.”
Phebe and Emily looked at each other. This plan sounded bad.
Nia asked, “Does this mean I get to be trained to fight?”
They shrugged.
“Foreseeing a lot of push-ups,” said Phebe.
“When do I get to start?” Matt asked.
“Right now. I’ll send Robert to the Molly. He was an Army medic.”
“He was a –”
“Shut up and don’t interrupt a superior office. As I was saying, I’ll take watch out there on the marina. Raven’s up in the nest. So all the civvies would be freed.”
“I’m not training those faggots, ma’am.”
“You don’t get to pick and choose, Sergeant. And I’d prefer you use the word gay. That’s an order. Let’s all try to get along.”
Matt laughed with a sharp edge. “We’re going to be P-C? They wouldn’t be allowed in the Army.”
“No. They’d be drummed out, as, apparently, Robert was.”
“He was?” a softer tone.
“By men like you.”
“Not me. Spec ops doesn’t have faggots.”
Peter’s voice behind the women startled them into yelps. “Or they hid it well.”
“Shit.” Emily swiped at the hot liquid spilled in her lap. “Scared the shit outta me, Sul.”
“I’ll wear a bell next time.” He looked like hell. A blanket wrapped around him. Hair a mess. Dark beard covering half of his face.
“Want to sit?” Phebe asked.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t want him to know I'm listening.”
She nodded. Then shrugged to Nia.
Mazy below said, “You need to keep those feelings to yourself, Sergeant. That’s a standing order.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Matt’s tone sounded compliant.
“You train all or none.”
“I’ll do my best with them, ma’am.”
“Good.”
“Permission to start collecting the civilians, ma’am?”
“Wait until we’ve re-organized.”
Jayce asked, “Does this include my mom?”
“All or none,” said Mazy.
He chuckled. “Good luck, Matt.”
“You’re in too.”
“Who guards the door?”
“We’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
Emily whispered, “Oh, the naivety of youth.”
4.
The chickens objected to all of these people on the lawn. They squawked and flapped their wings as they ran.
“What are we doing?” asked Mullen.
“Boot camp,” said Matt. “Basic training.” He turned his attention to Phebe. “You’re exempt.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are pregnant.”
“So everyone keeps telling me. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Placental displacement.”
“That sounds bad,” said Mullen.
“All or none.” She smirked. Her cockiness brazen.
Emily stood beside Stanton, who wore a baby blue workout outfit. He had popped home to dress for the workout challenge ahead. He stretched. Then jogged in place with knees high.
“I’m ready, sergeant.”
Peter watched from above. He fell out of his chair onto the floor, laughing.
“Is old blue eyes laughing at me?” Stanton whispered to Emily.
“No. He’s laughing at Matt.” She whispered. “They’re having a rivalry.”
“Ooh, cute caveman rivals. Interesting.”
“Cut that shit out, Goldstein.”
Emily glar
ed at Corporal Boyfriend.
He shrugged as if to say What can I do?
Peter righted himself in the chair in time to watch the motley crew below start their push-ups. Emily, Angela, and Nia did female push-ups, on their knees instead of the tips of their toes.
“What are you doing?” Brandon demanded.
Angela stopped and looked up at him. “This is the way I’m doing it. You birth two children and then you can say something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Matt gave Brandon a What are you doing? look.
“Wooden spoon, man.”
Matt shook his head.
“Don’t tempt the fury of a black woman.”
“What?”
“You’re new here.” Brandon patted him on the back, finally getting a chance to use that on someone else.
“Whatever. Ladies, you need to work on real push-ups in the future.”
Peter rested his forehead on the balcony railing. Shoulders rising and falling with laughter.
Matt ignored him.
Tyler was the only one to make it to fifty push-ups. He was more strength than body mass.
“People, that was pitiful.” Matt looked at Phebe and Mullen. “You two should be better than this.”
“He weighs ten pounds,” Mullen protested.
Peter’s laughter from above.
“You are not fucking helping,” Matt yelled up at him.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just a spectator.”
“Go into your bedroom.”
“Keep on training.”
Manuel said to Phebe, “They sound like brothers who’ve had a falling out.”
“Basically that is what they are.”
Matt bellowed, “No talking in the ranks.”
She cocked a brow. “Don’t go too far in this, Sergeant Asshole.”
He stepped up to her. “You’ve had nothing but attitude, Marcelino.”
“It’s Sullivan.”
He pointed up to Peter. “He let you get away with this shit. I will not.”
She crossed her arms. A wicked smirk. “Really?”
Peter put his hand over his mouth to not laugh out loud. His face turned to beet red, an improvement over the hue of light gray.
“Twenty push-ups. Right now.”
She laughed. “You are out of your mind.”
“Hey,” said Mullen. “What about the placental thing?”
But Matt focused his anger at her. “Do as you are ordered.”
“Nope.”
“That’s an order.”
“Not happening.”
Peter grabbed the basin he brought out and puked into it. All the laughter caused his stomach to cramp.
Matt growled, “Then you will stay in your room.”
She laughed again. “I’m one of the best you got.”
“You got his fucking cockiness.”
“Thought it was my own.”
“Out of the line.” He grabbed her arm.
Peter picked up his head in time to see Phebe flip Matt. He laughed and puked again, falling on the floor, doubling from a combination of stomach cramps and laughter.
Phebe stood over Matt. “What the fuck is your problem? We all lost them on the island. It’s not just you.”
“You don’t even give a shit.”
“You were missing for three days. Don’t assume anything.” She reached down her hand to help him up.
He slapped it away.
“No.” She moved her hand back to him. “Stop it.”
He took it.
She could feel how much weight he had lost as she heaved him up. He was still weakened, but his hardheaded anger wouldn’t let him admit to it.
He grabbed up his water and swigged.
Mullen said, “Pheebs and I already did a jog today.”
Matt felt humiliated.
At this point, Julio would have stepped in and talked to him. Calmed him down and helped him focus his anger into something healthier. Julio’s death had left a void.
“I’m ready to jog.” Stanton did his high knee jog in place again.
Matt glared at him.
Stanton smiled. He had been told of the order Mazy gave. He bothered Matt and he seemed to be enjoying bothering him further.
The others chuckled. Stanton broke the tension. He seemed to be okay with it, if not intentionally doing it for that purpose.
Matt roughly grabbed up the radio and informed Ben they were going for a jog around the immediate perimeter.
“Copy that. Over.”
“Everyone with barefoot, get tennis shoes on.”
“Do they have to specifically be for tennis?” asked Jayce. “I don’t have those.”
“Just sneakers,” said Mullen. “I think he’s speaking Midwest. Like when he says pop instead of soda.”
Bottoms hit the grass as they put on sneakers that may or may not have originally belonged to them.
Mullen took up the door guard and let the group out.
“Hey, babe,” Peter said as Phebe came out onto the second-floor piazza balcony.
“Nice laughing.”
“I suffered for it.” He pointed to the basin.
“Good.”
“Nice nurturing wifey.”
“Not today.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. Matt’s humiliation cheered him up. “Hotshot flipped him. Loving it.”
She shrugged. “You two are going to have make peace.”
“Not today.”
“I have to find food. Is Eric alive in there?”
“Don’t know. Is he allowed out?”
“Depends on how insane he is.”
“Is there a scale chart? I don’t think I’d be a good judge on someone’s insanity level.”
“You never were, hon.”
5.
Matt was in the lead. Brandon had their six for stragglers.
“This feels so good on my muscles,” Angela said to Emily. “I haven’t had much exercise.”
“Wish Matt would slow down a little.”
“Is it safe to jog with a riffle?”
Brandon was armed with an M4.
“Or is that to keep us going or we get shot?” Nia asked.
“This is boring,” Tyler complained. He was barely sweating or breathing hard.
Jayce, beside him, wasn’t doing so well.
“My children are woefully out of shape.”
“They’re not the only ones,” said Emily.
Stanton and Manuel were doing fine.
“We exercised in the house,” said Manuel. “Calisthenics. Palates. Keep in tiptop shape.” He patted his slim stomach.
“Except Robert and his fat ass,” said Stanton.
“I’d hardly say Robert’s fat,” responded Angela.
“He has love handles, which have never been loved.” Stanton slowed his pace to run next to Angela. “Darling, when are we going to work on your hair?”
“Go run up there. Matt’s missing you.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Oh, please. You know you enjoy annoying him.”
He smiled. “It is fun to bother cute homophobe macho cavemen, isn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“He’s latent.”
“Seriously doubt that.”
“Most men are.”
“Go up there.”
“I thought we were having girl talk.”
“Em and I were. Go.”
“Everyone is being so moody.” He quickened his pace to jog just behind Matt.
Huffing and puffing and profusely sweating, they ran half the perimeter circuit, when Matt’s fist went up. Those who knew what that meant stopped dead. The others ran into their backs.
Stanton suddenly screamed soprano and ran in the other direction, hiding behind the confused group.
Matt charged forward and clotheslined a zom sprinting out of an alley.
The zom flew backward and slammed onto its back. It was a fresh turn. Adult male. Wearin
g only dirty underpants and socks.
Matt’s foot stepped on its throat to hold it down and prevent it from biting him.
Brandon moved forward. “I got it.”
“Negative,” Matt said. “Knock out its teeth.”
“Come again?”
“The butt of the weapon. Knock out his teeth. It. Whatever. Do it, Pell.”
“Affirmative.”
Matt kept it down with his foot as Brandon reversed his riffle and slammed the butt into its mouth repeatedly. Blood joined foam and bubbles.
The others cringed.
“They all gone?” Brandon squatted to try to see inside its mouth.
“Front ones are. Premolars probably still in place.”
Matt scanned the wide-eyed group.
Manuel held hyperventilating Stanton.
Matt dismissed the two and looked to the others. “Jayce, you want to learn to break their necks?”
“I wanna learn,” Nia said.
“Absolutely not,” Angela reprimanded.
“But why does Jayce?”
Matt said, “He’s bigger than you.”
Emily chimed in, “Phebe said there’s a way to break their necks with her legs. Can’t we females learn that?”
“Did she tell you it risks being bit?”
“Isn’t that why you broke his teeth?”
“You can’t do that in a live ZCQC.”
“A what?” asked Jayce.
“Zom close-quarters combat,” said Tyler.
Jayce stared at the pinned monster. It grabbed at Matt’s leg. Brandon knocked it in the forehead with the butt of his riffle to slow it down. A head injury that would cause a concussion for a healthy person.
“Jayce?” Matt’s blond brows were high in expectation.
The sixteen-year-old looked nervous.
Losing patience, Matt said, “Emily, you want this then?”
“Whoa,” said Brandon. “Wait.”
“Stow it, Pell.”
“But, Matt, she’s … ya know.”
“There’s a fucking reason we have only one civvie female survive from our original outbreak. You think about that.”
“Show me how.” Emily stepped up.
Matt looked around at the houses. “Ty, get me that rope on the flagpole.”
The kid pulled out his knife, climbed up, and cut the rope. Nia watched her age peer, keen to learn what he did since she wasn’t allowed much training due to her overprotective mother.
It took both Matt and Brandon to roll over the wildly struggling adult male zom and keep it down so Tyler could tie its arms.
They stopped. A Gollum-bark down the same alley. Sounded female.
“People, sit on this fucker’s back to keep it down.” Matt stood, readying for the incoming.