by Allen Gamboa
“How many dicks did you eat?” Jefferson asked as he looked down around the wreckage for his rifle.
“You wish.” Washington tried to stretch his aching back.
“Yeah Wash, that’s what I wish. I wish you ate a bunch of dicks.” Jefferson said sarcastically as he shook his head and found his rifle under the pieces of the towers plywood counter top. The marine quickly picked it up and began checking it for damage. Satisfied the weapon was in working order he turned back to his partner who was staring at his boots.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, fucking blast has me all turned around.” Washington scratched his head.
“Well pull it together bro.” Jefferson saw Washington’s rifle laying in the rubble and handed it to him. “We need to get moving. I don’t want to wait around for any deaders to sniff us out and think it’s snack time. Get it together.”
“I’m good.” Washington nodded as he gripped his rifle tightly.
“Come on.” Jefferson waved his partner forward as they stepped out of the remains of the tower. Both soldiers could see the rest of the small base had almost burnt to the ground. Anyone left alive after the attack appeared to have fled. Jefferson knew that the two them wouldn't survive very long on foot in this area. As they slowly moved along, Jefferson noticed a black SUV the mercenaries had left behind. The marine held a hand up for Washington to halt then he raised his rifle up to his shoulder and slowly approached the rear of the bullet riddled vehicle. Both back windows had been blown out by the Rangers so Jefferson cautiously peered inside. No sign of any bad guys.
“Empty.” He shouted back to Washington.
“Hopefully we have keys inside.” The other soldier said as he quickly caught up to Jefferson.
“That would be really nice.” The Marine nodded as he moved along the driver's side of the battle-damaged SUV. “You can hot wire it if we don’t, right?”
“Me? Why me? Is it cause I’m black. It’s cause I’m black, right? How about you?”
“No, dip shit. I’m black too. It’s cause you always talking about folks’ cars. Thought you might know a thing or two.”
“No, I know my rides but not what makes ‘em run.”
“What?”
“You know I can tell you what kinda car LeBron James drives and how much it cost but don’t ask me how it works.”
“Uh huh, dick weight.” Jefferson opened up the bullet dented driver's door and glanced inside. The Marine looked back at Washington. “It’s our lucky day. Keys are inside. Get in.” Jefferson reached over and turned the keys in the ignition. The SUVs engine easily roared to life and the Marine climbed into the driver’s seat. Washington quickly pulled open the middle driver's side door. “Don’t get in the back,” Jefferson shouted. “this ain't’ driving Miss Daisey.”
CHAPTER 25: BAGEL FUCKER
“That’s a big hole! That’s not good.” Cherry Berry said staring at the sunken front end of the Yukon. Part of the damaged highway had collapsed under the weight of the driver’s side tire causing the SUVs front end to drop four feet into a fresh hole.
“No shit bagel fucker.” Doc said squatting down next to the Yukon’s front fender.
“You’re a regular baked goods Sherlock ‘fucking’ Holmes.”
“Not you too Doc?” Berry sighed defeated.
“It's too easy Berry.” The medic grinned. “Never offer up anything these animals can turn you into a chew toy with. Berry, what did that poor bagel ever do to you?”
Uribe impatiently waved to Hale as he approached the group that was gathered around the SUV. The Lieutenant was still groggy from being abruptly woken from his nap in the Hummer. “What do you think Sergeant, fixable?”
“Yeah, there’s enough of us to push the front end out. I’m just worried that it’s getting dark and this isn’t the best place to be.” The sergeant waved to Vannelli and Duley. “Set up a perimeter, I don’t want anybody or anything sneaking up on us.”
“Copy that.” Both soldiers spread themselves out in security positions among the carnage.
“Banjo, get back to the Hummer and get on the gun, give us some cover.”
“Roger.” The almost seven-foot contractor nodded then sprinted back toward Humvee.
“Turn the headlights on Banjo.” Uribe called to him. “That way we can see what the hell we’re doing.”
“Wish we had that night vision gear.” Hale said as he turned back to the officer. “The lights might draw some unwanted attention to us.” Hale motioned to some feral dogs that were slinking in and out of the wreckage. “It’s getting dark and that’s when all the freaks come out. The sooner we get this done the sooner we get to the Nitrex plant.”
“Okay, get on it Sergeant.” Uribe nodded impatiently. “I’ll grab the satphone and let them know what’s up.”
“Cherry Berry get behind the wheel. When I say go you put it in reverse. Got it?”
“Got it!” Cherry Berry said, cheerfully hopping into the Yukon’s driver’s seat, just happy that the Sergeant hadn't called him bagel fucker.
“Cross, keep an eye out. I spotted some wayward canines looking for dinner to the right of us.”
“I see them.” Cross nodded then brought her weapon up to point shoulder. As she slowly moved in the direction of the wild dogs, Cross glanced over at Vannelli. “Hey Vannelli, I shoot one of these pooches am I gonna have PETA on my ass?”
“Not if you eat it.” Vannelli said moving opposite Cross. “When you and Morgan went out on that run to Bakersfield, Hale and Doc brought in a kid whose family had been attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Kid’s family was torn to bits and the boy lost an arm and an eye. What a shitty day that was.”
“I’m glad I missed that.” The redhead glanced over at the other contractor that had sidled up next to her.
“Yeah, I know. Hale said if you had been there you probably would have jumped the wall and brought us back a bag full of dog heads.” Vannelli smirked as he watched his flank for anything dangerous.
“He was right.” Cross said quietly.
“Uh huh,” Vannelli looked over his shoulder and gave her a wink. “I don’t think you have to worry about PETA, besides, I hear you put enough hot sauce on it and dog is one helluva good meal. Just ask Doc.”
CHAPTER 26: EXCEPT IF THERE IS SPIDERS
Abandoned Airfield
“Well….fuck.” Kanter grumbled as he rubbed his neck with his left hand and swiftly shut the plane's engines down with his right. As the Gulfstream powered down, Sergeant Cho moved into the cockpit.
“Good job on the landing.”
“I could have done better Admir….Sergeant.” Kantner corrected himself as he turned in his seat to face the soldier. “Had a problem with a flap, probably shot up. Anyway, thanks.”
“Where is our welcome committee?” Cho asked peering out the jet’s windscreen. An empty airstrip and a handful of damaged aircraft hangars was all she could see.
“This is where they directed us Sergeant Cho. Looks empty, hell I don’t even see a fuel truck or a pump.” The pilot said nervously playing with his moustache. “Airfield looks like it’s been abandoned for a long time.”
“Hmmm.” She nodded and looked back at the other Ranger. “We may have us some unwanted company.”
“Well, Sarge,” Franco climbed out of his seat and picked up his rifle making sure it was combat ready. “I got the welcome mat right here.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear Franco.” Cho nodded and turned back to the pilot. “Can you get ahold of Command?”
“No,” Kantner held up the jet’s radio mic and waved it back and forth. “no one is responding.”
“We should have had an airborne escort at the very least.” Cho said glancing back out the windscreen. “I don’t like the feel of this at all.”
“We are bingo on fuel Sergeant. There’s not enough juice left in this bird to find us another runway.”
Cho nodded in agreement and looked back at Franco. The other R
anger was watching out one of the cabin windows. It was growing colder and darker outside. If they were going to have a look around the airfield they’d have to do it now. Cho glanced back down at Kantner and made a quick decision.
“You think there may be a fuel truck in one of those buildings?”
“Could be.” Kantner shrugged. “I mean there has to be a reason Command directed us back this way, right?”
“Right.” Cho said trying to keep her sarcasm in check. The Ranger sergeant drew her pistol and flipped it over in her gloved hand with the grip facing Kanter and the barrel downwards. “You know how to fire one of these?”
“Is that a Glock?”
“Yes sir. You ever handled one Kantner?”
“Yeah. A few times with some drinking buddies.”
“That’ll work.” She quickly showed him how to use it then handed it over to him. “I’m taking you to check the hangers. Hopefully there is some fuel in one of those buildings.”
“Maybe I should stay here Sergeant.” Kantner protested. “I might shoot one of us on accident.”
“I hope for your sake you don’t. I need Franco here to sit on the cases.”
“Come on.” The pilot pleaded.
“Look Kantner, unless you want to hoof it all the way back home, come with me.”
“Alright.” The pilot let out a defeated breath. “Just don’t come whining to me if ..”
“Look Kantner, believe me, if I didn’t need you I wouldn’t ask for your help. The fence line around this airfield is falling down, it’s not at all secure and I sure don’t want to get eaten by any wandering pus bags or get gunned down by mercenaries.” She turned her head to see Franco still intently gazing out the window. “We have the anti-virus and a chance to stop all this bullshit. Come on man, ruck up.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“What?” Cho frowned.
“Ruck up?”
“Dude, it means to man up! Don’t be a pussy!” Franco, clearly irritated at the pilots waffling, shouted from the rear of the Gulfstream’s cabin.
“Oh.” Kantner nodded. “Okay Sergeant. I’m all yours. Except …if there are spiders. I really hate spiders.”
“Knew I could count on you Kanter.” Cho patted him on the shoulder and went to retrieve her rifle from the passenger cabin. Franco gave the Sergeant a slight smile and shook his head. Cho just rolled her eyes and quickly grabbed up her rifle.
“We’ll try to be fast,” She told the Specialist. “watch us from outside, if we have any unexpected guests you know what to do.”
“Roger that Sarge.” Franco said moving to open the exit door. “Don’t sweat it, I got your back.”
CHAPTER 27: PAPER CUTS
Camp FedEx
“Shit!” Morgan slammed the inventory sheet down on his desk. The edge of the top paper had neatly slit open his thumb. The Major jammed his thumb into his mouth to stop the bleeding. “Fuck me.” Morgan shook his head and rustled around his cluttered desk for something to plug the cut. The Major settled on a thin roll of Scotch tape. He ripped off a piece and wrapped it around the bleeding digit. “Swell,” Morgan shook his head. “Paper cuts. How fucking embarrassing is that?” He said to himself, happy that Hale or Cross hadn’t been around to witness his total transformation into an REMF. ‘A rear echelon motherfucker with a paper cut purple heart’. Morgan chuckled to himself as he pushed away from the paper strewn desk. How far he had fallen since the outbreak. He’d gone from front line soldier to paper pusher. A lifer in a mercenary company. Shit, what the hell was he doing here? Morgan glanced at his watch and saw it was getting late. He stood up and walked over to the Tactical Operations Command room, TOC, and stuck his head inside the open doorway. Sergeant Blackburn sat behind the communications console reading a magazine and listening to Metallica on an iPod. Lately, Morgan noticed, Blackburn had been acting preoccupied.
“Hey Blackie, you heard from Hale?”
“Huh?” Blackburn, always disheveled, sat up and tossed the magazine onto the table in front of him.
“Have you heard from Hale or Uribe?” The Major stepped inside of the small communications room. “It’s getting late.”
“They called in around 1930 hours .” The commo man said glancing down at a notebook on the table. “Lieutenant Uribe said they got jammed up on the highway. I guess it’s a real long stretch of fucked up road.” Blackburn absentmindedly scratched his crotch.
“Deaders?”
“No, they ran into an area that wasn’t cleared by the engineers. Earthquake alley. He didn't mention any contact.” Blackburn said scratching his right arm through his sleeve.
“Good.” Morgan nodded at the younger contractor.
“The Lieutenant said the Yukon got stuck in a pot hole but they should be moving soon.”
“Shit.” Morgan gave his watch another quick look. “Bad things happen in the dark.”
“Spooky shit at night.” Blackburn nodded, itching his arm. “Want me to call him back?”
“No.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder. “If they do call, come get me.”
“Will do.” Blackburn nodded grabbing back up his magazine. “I’m sure they’ll be okay sir, hell, they have Cross and Hale out there with them.”
“You’re right Blackie. You working a double tonight?”
“Yup.” The commo man yawned.
“I’ll see if I can get someone to relive you, you look like shit.”
“That’s okay Major.” Blackburn hefted a mug full of coffee. “I’m good.”
“Alright.” Morgan smiled as he turned and walked back into his office. Something was going on with Blackburn. Lately, the kid hadn’t been acting right. As he sat back down at his desk, the office door creaked open and Captain Booker walked inside.
“Major.”
“Captain. Can I help you?’
“Well Major,” Booker quickly sat down heavily in one of his office chairs. “The Colonel was just up my ass about Lieutenant Uribe’s team not being at the Nitrex plant already.”
“And?” Morgan leaned forward across his desk.
“I just happened to be in his office when he got a call from Nitrex. They’re more than a little jumpy holding onto all those medical supplies without much more than their small security force. They are worried about getting attacked and robbed. I gave the call to the Colonel. The Colonel wants to know why the hell Uribe and his team aren’t on schedule. Maybe we sent out the wrong guys? Maybe, Hale ain’t the soldier you think he is.” The Captain was smug as he relayed the information to Morgan.
“Are you sure you heard correctly Captain? I mean it probably was hard to hear anything from under the Colonel's desk. And who the fuck told you to sit down?” Morgan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. Booker just stared at him in disbelief.
“What? What?”
“Listen, CAPTAIN,” Morgan said evenly. “I just talked to Blackburn, he said Uribe had ran into some non-contact trouble on the road but would soon be up and running. The team should be at the plant soon.”
Morgan leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “The next time the Colonel has a bitch, don’t have him send me one, have him talk directly to me.” Booker just glared at Morgan. “Understand Captain?”
”Yes, yes Major.” The Captain said dumbfounded.
“Good, Uribe and his team will be there soon. Why don't you head back over to the Colonel's office and the two of you can stand there and make an H with your dicks! Now get the hell out of my office!” As Booker hurried out of the building with his tail between his legs, Morgan shook his head in anger. “Wrong guys! Asshole!” He slammed his hand on his desk causing the paper cut in his thumb to throb even more. “Fuck me!” Morgan, frustrated, stood up and shouted for Blackburn. “Blackie!”
“Major?” The communications man stumbled into the office carrying a magazine and his headphones.
“Get me Lt. Uribe on the satphone.”
“He's turned it of
f Major.” Blackburn said slipping his headphones around his neck.
“What?”
“He has the phone off.”
“Idiot!” Morgan cursed. He looked over to see Blackburn staring at him wide eyed. “Not you Blackie, the Lt. They have radio capabilities or cell phone?”
“No. Company radios don't range there and that area took a big hit on cell towers at the beginning of the outbreak.” Blackburn rolled his magazine tightly in his fist. “Remember when the Government was trying to shut down civilian communication and they blasted all those towers? Earthquake finished off any of the surviving towers.”
“Yeah.” Morgan nodded. “Bad move on their part, but it was one of many bad moves.” He looked down at his bloody, throbbing thumb. “You got any band-aids Blackie?”
CHAPTER 28: HOT SAUCE AND GERMAN SHEPHERDS
Highway of Death
“So, what made you sign up for the Army?” Berry asked Cross as they walked side by side, about thirty feet ahead of the team’s vehicles, looking for any potential road hazards. Both contractors had flashlights mounted under the barrels of their assault rifles. The light beams cast eerie shadows along the wreckage and roadside.
“I got tired of working my ass off in rinky dink jobs, trying to pay for college and living with a loser that smelled like ass and weed. Thought I’d join the Army and have them pay for school. After a couple of years, I found out this is where I was supposed to be.” Cross winked as she cautiously moved forward in the bright beams of the SUV’s headlights. “I just traded in the smell of ass for the smell of the dead. How about you Cherry Berry?” The Sergeant asked as she swept her surroundings with her rifle barrel. “You have big plans before this crap sandwich happened?”
“I wanted to be a cop.” He said catching a bit of movement to his left. He slowly glanced over at Cross, who had also seen something moving among the tangle of battle damaged vehicles. The Sergeant gave him a slight nod indicating she’d seen it too and made a motion with her left hand for him to keep talking. Berry swallowed and continued nervously. “I..I had to wait to get into an academy so I thought I’d get a jump on it by joining the TSA.”