by Mark Tufo
Somehow the animals know something is about to happen here. They’ll hang around looking for scraps when it’s all over, she thought, shivering. That thought disturbed her more than the Genogerians. Combat was one thing, getting picked clean by a scavenger was quite another.
“My name is Captain Tracy Talbot,” she stated, her voice not as strong as she would have hoped.
There was a smattering of laughter as someone shouted out, “Who gives a shit?” Carbonara pulled away from Tracy and was headed towards the malcontent who had spouted off to initiate some fast and furious battlefield justice. She reached out to stop him. She couldn’t afford a mutiny; she was on a precipice as it was. These men didn’t know her and had no reason to die for her.
She spoke with more force. “I started off much like all of you—a grunt, a foot soldier. I’ve seen more battles than I care to remember. I’ve buried more friends than I can forget. Those around me were always dying at the bidding of those that sat safe and warm in their high privileged chairs. As we all know, any true form of government is gone. We fight now for ourselves and the person beside, in front of and behind us. We fight for our families and for all of mankind. This isn’t a battle for foreign oil or sovereign lands. This is a battle for the future of mankind. If we fail here in the coming days, we fail for all time. There will be no second chances, no reinforcements, and no extraction. We stand, we fight, and if necessary we die, all in the effort to preserve who we are as a species. The coming enemy cares no more for us than a dog does a flea. Some of you are probably wishing that my husband was leading you in this fight. I love the man but he’s about as adept at leading as he is doing the laundry.” There was a smattering of laughter.
“I was raised a military brat—I’ve been around men and women of uniform my entire life. When I was old enough to enlist I did so. I earned my bars on the field of battle, and I know what it’s like to be so nervous it’s impossible to keep your knees from knocking. I’ve been in fights where the odds were so seemingly impossible I’ve said my final prayers. Yet, here I stand. Here we all stand. We will win this day and we will live forever because of it. Your great-great grandchildren will be reading about the Battle of Twenty-Nine Palms when three thousand soldiers stopped three hundred thousand Genogerians. We will live among the greatest battles of all time; it will be the Spartan 300 at Thermopiles and the Marine 3,000 at the Stumps! Who is with me?!”
For a heart breaking moment all was silent. Tracy did not believe that her words had broken through. She couldn’t be sure but she’d bet money that the man who had shouted out in derision earlier was the first to shout out the Marine Corps battle cry of ‘Ooooh Rah!’, his solitary scream immediately picked up by the rest of the battalions. The thunder of their voices was music to her ears.
“Now get your asses back in position and let’s show these motherfuckers what hell looks like!”
Another chorus of ‘Oooh Rah!’ echoed throughout the valley.
“Dismissed!” Carbonara shouted. The soldiers disbanded rapidly, heading to their respective locations. “Stirring speech, ma’am.” The Staff Sergeant had caught up to her as she strode towards her command tent at the top, just behind the ridge.
She said nothing.
“Is that true about your husband, ma’am?”
Tracy turned toward Carbonara, a smile on her face. “He is one of the bravest, craziest, luckiest bastards I’ve ever known in my life but he couldn’t lead a band.”
“I’m glad you’re here instead.”
“You will be. Please let me know when the Genos are within five miles. Right now I want to write some letters.”
He looked at her with concern. “These wouldn’t be final letters would they, ma’am?”
“Of course not, but I always like to be prepared. Besides, someone needs to keep a record of our victory.”
“Very well.”
When Tracy arrived at her tent, she saw a small field desk in the middle surrounded by maps, equipment and personnel rosters. She sat down heavily on the folding chair, noticing the slight shaking of her traitorous knees. “Well, that’s an improvement over previous years.” She began to write.
I wish you were here, Michael, and then again, I don’t. Your strong arms around me would crowd out the chill that threatens to encircle my heart. The thought of never seeing you or our son again weighs heavily on me. I’m so sorry I did not get to say a proper good-bye to you. For that, I will always have regret. I hope that Dee holds true to his promise and that you do not find a way to come out here. Just know that with all of my heart and all of my being I loved you and I will always love you. Until we meet again.
Tears running down her face, she moved away from her desk. She didn’t want the salted water to make the ink run and give Mike a clue of just how scared and desperate she felt.
She’d thought about turning the General down, but if not her then who? This wasn’t the only fight being waged; the human forces were spread as thin as a sheet of paper. To take from one to supply another would only leave someone short. No, she would do her part, some of it would be for the country and her unit but the biggest majority would be for the two she’d left behind. She would do it to give them a chance at a better life, a life without the threat of dominion. “I still wish you were here,” she whispered.
She’d been staring off into space, slightly lost in thought, her booted feet resting on the desk, the front two legs of her chair in the air. When the thought hit her, she thumped to the floor as she pulled her legs off the top of the desk. She bolted out of the tent. “Staff Sergeant Carbonara!” She found him looking over the motor pool, their only form of retreat should the need arise and he wanted to make sure all was within working order.
“Yes ma’am?” He turned.
“You said the Genos never deviate?”
“Not so far as we can tell.”
“I’ve got an idea. I’m going to need five hundred men.” She laid out the plan to him and waited for his response, gauging his facial movements as he went through the merits of her idea.
“It’s risky. If it doesn’t work those men will be caught out in the open. Not to mention the fact that you’re reducing an already decimated fighting force by a significant percentage.”
“Taking all of that into account, what are your thoughts?”
He placed his right hand to his chin and then rubbed his small moustache. “I like it.” He smiled. “Nothing else has worked and to be honest I think the Genos are too arrogant to care.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“I’ll go get them. When should we leave?”
“Not you, Staff Sergeant…or should I say, ‘Lieutenant?’”
Carbonara looked taken a back.
“You are going to be in charge of the ridge and I will lead the men on this mission.”
He opened his mouth to protest.
“I’ve never been one to idly lead. And you’re right; this could go bad in the span of a heartbeat. If I’m wrong and I have sent them all to their deaths, well then, I will lead them on their path to the afterlife.”
“This is madness, ma’am.”
“You know the escape route and rally point better than anyone here. To take you away from here jeopardizes the lives of those remaining. I cannot risk that. Besides, even if you don’t agree, I’m the Captain here.”
“And you’ll have me shot and replaced if I don’t comply.”
“Something like that.” She smiled.
“Your husband is a lucky man.”
“Oh, I’m just as fickle as any woman at home, but this...” She spread her arms. “This is my element. Let me know when you’ve got them picked, I’d like volunteers first if possible. Tomorrow morning I’ll brief them on what I plan on doing.” With that, she went back to her tent, wrote a few more notes and got a surprisingly good night of sleep.
That next morning when Lieutenant Carbonara told her they were ready and assembled she went down to speak to them.
>
“Who here is not a volunteer?” She asked first, there were more than a few that looked over to Alex. Tracy could tell he was trying to act casual but if anyone spoke and said they were not she felt they would instantly be feeling his wrath. “Okay, good, I guess.” She laid out her entire plan, which really wasn’t all that much.
“Excuse me ma’am.”
“Yes Private...?”
“Private Jandilyn Hollow ma’am.”
Tracy could see Alex stir out of the corner of his eye.
“Umm ma’am are you fucking crazy?” Private Hollow asked.
Alex was halfway down the aisle way about to throttle the girl.
“It’s okay Lieutenant. Let her speak.”
“Ma’am you’re asking that five hundred of us take on the entire Geno army and out in the open. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Lieutenant, you’re making me nervous, sit down. The Private is concerned for her safety, as are we all. Listen, all of you, I am not risking yours or my life needlessly. I have reason to believe this tactic will work. If not, you have my word that we will not be sticking around long enough to see just how wrong I was. Is that understood?”
She received nods from the group.
“Private Hollow?”
“I’m on board ma’am.”
Tracy spent the remainder of the day getting to know as many of the troops as she could. Talking with them, eating with them, and on at least two occasions getting in on some games of Spades. By the time nightfall came she was more than ready to call it a night.
When first light came Tracy took twelve deuce-and-a-half transport trucks crammed full of soldiers and headed due south.
Chapter Fifteen - Alex
“Well, she didn’t stay long. Is that her majesty’s personal guard?”
“Excuse me, Corporal?” Alex asked.
“I’m just saying she gives this rousing speech about sticking together and fighting for all eternity and she bugs out. She going to get a nice vantage point a few miles away so she can watch us get slaughtered?”
Alex let him continue.
“Then maybe she can write about the battle for all them books she was talking about.”
“You done?”
“Just about. Aren’t you pissed?”
“That’s maybe one of the bravest women, nope, persons I’ve ever met. She’s risking everything to increase our chances of survivability. I suggest you shut the hell up and get to your post. Or, to steal one of her lines, I’ll have you shot and replaced.”
The Corporal did not seem mollified but did as he was ordered.
Alex had taken up residency in the command tent, letting his eyes shut for what seemed like only a moment when Private Ackerson rushed in.
“Sir, the forward observation post has sighted the enemy.”
“They on course?”
“Straight as an arrow.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“Sir?”
“Nothing,” he said as he followed the Private out. He grabbed a pair of field binoculars, but he didn’t need them to see the giant dust cloud a force of that size was stirring up. “Private, let everyone know the tanks are going to begin firing.” With an effective range of about two miles the M1A1 Abrams tanks could deliver a devastating punch from afar.
The ground shook as the tanks began to fire, shells whistling overhead. Alex watched plumes of fire, dirt, dust, debris and, hopefully, blood fly up into the air with each impact down range. From this distance the large artillery shells were about as loud as a party popper when they hit. He knew that would change and soon. The Genogerians would not seek cover from the barrage. They would run headlong into it.
“ONE MILE!” the Private shouted through a bullhorn. The dug-in soldiers checked their weaponry one last time.
Alex was still looking through the binoculars and was now able to see the angry twisted faces of the enemy. It was when he pulled them away he sighed, “Oh, Dear God.” The Genogerians had gone from a massive cluster to long lines that stretched from side to side as far as the eye could see. The sight of it was devastating to behold. The tanks were only slowing their rate of fire long enough to readjust aim as the Genos moved ever forward. He couldn’t be sure but he thought he was hearing the chatter of small arms fire from far away. That was confirmed when he heard the telltale swish of an RPG.
“You go ma’am! Give them hell!” Alex raised his fist in triumph, a rare display of losing his military decorum. Grabbing Private Ackerson’s shoulder, he yelled, “Tell the gunners in those tanks to stay closer to the front ranks of the Genos rather than the rear!”
“Yes sir!” The Private answered as he picked up the radio mic and relayed commands.
“This one is for you, Marta,” Alex said. His young pregnant wife was safe at home and he hoped she stayed that way.
Chapter Sixteen - Tracy
The truck jostled violently as it traveled over the uneven desert terrain. Tracy braced herself as best she could. She half wished she were sitting in the back, wedged in tight with the troops. She watched as the driver more than once slammed his head off the roof of the cab. If his window hadn’t been down she was convinced he would have shattered it with his helmeted head as he went from side to side. As it was, she kept one eye on the steering wheel so when he was flung out, she would be able to grab it and hopefully keep them from crashing.
“Do you even have your license?” Tracy asked in one of the rare moments of smoothness.
“I lost my civilian license, ma’am. That didn’t seem to bother the Marines much though. I do have my military transport card.” He was smiling much like Tracy figured a vengeful demon might.
“What’s your nickname?” Tracy was holding onto the dashboard, her feet pushing tight against the floorboards.
“Rut, ma’am. They call me Rut.”
“I can’t imagine why. Listen, Rut, if you kill me before we even get into position I’ll have you cleaning latrines for the rest of your life whether you’re in the military or not. Do you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.” A thick black plume of smoke poured from the truck smokestack as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Surprisingly enough the ride got somewhat smoother, at least while the truck was airborne over the divots. However, the landings were merciless on the entire body, from teeth to kidney.
Tracy had Rut pull over for a brief stop. She could see the airborne dust as she stepped from the cab. Joints popping, she groaned as she stretched, hoping beyond hope that she was doing some good in realigning her back. She could hear the troops complaining about chipping teeth or having concussions, one was even joking that he may have been entered involuntarily, his ass hurt so much.
“What now?” Rut asked, coming up next to the Captain.
“Well, I’m going to take a few more steps and make sure my spine hasn’t been severed. After that, you’re going to get this truck as close to the rear echelon of that advancing swarm as possible.
“And then?”
“Well, at that point we’re going to let them know the true meaning of the word, ‘Devil Dog’.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Rut got that same maniacal smile on his face he had when he was driving.
Tracy smacked the side of the truck as she reentered. “Round two,” she shouted to the harried passengers.
“Wonderful. I hope I don’t get pregnant this time,” said the same Marine that had spoken earlier about his hurting buttocks. A raucous laughter ensued. Tracy could only hope they could still laugh with so much vigor once the day was over, but she held no real illusions of that happening.
Rut found a road for part of their journey, although Tracy was amazed that he still somehow managed to find every imperfection in that roadway.
“Slow up.” Tracy noticed that they had not quite gotten behind the Genos. If they were to stay in front they would be wiped out quickly. Rut had no sooner pulled up than the heavy rounds of tank fire began to explode within the ranks of the Genogeria
ns.
“That oughta ruin their day,” Rut said.
“I hope so. Let’s mount up. Swing further south then cut across.”
“Round three!” Tracy smacked the side again.
This time all was silent. The time for play was over and the time for war was nigh. And like a switch had been flipped, everyone grew serious. Tracy hardly noticed this time as she was bounced around. The Genos were transforming from a throng into individual beings. Not one of them was taking notice of the trucks coming up on their flanks and that was just fine with Tracy.
“Get as close as you can without getting run over. Scratch that. Hit one of the bastards and see what happens.” Tracy had told the other trucks to hold off until she was somewhat certain of her theory holding true.
“Ma’am?” Rut asked, his eyes growing bigger as they closed the distance. The truck was close enough to see the rippling muscles on one Genogerian’s back as he ran toward his destination. His full attention was fixed on everything forward, so much so that even as Tracy urged Rut on and the truck bumper collided with the Geno’s heel, the beast never turned.
“I’m going to have to fill out an accident report for that, ma’am,” he said in all seriousness.
“Rut, all of your driving is an accident.” Tracy leaned out of her window and shot a three round burst. The first hit the Geno in the side, the second hit his shoulder and the third went wide right, but it was enough damage. The Geno slowed and Rut was slow to react. The two and a half ton truck mowed the Geno over. The drive shaft caught him in the back of the skull, cracking it open like an over boiled egg. Rut stopped short. He was in danger of getting ahead of some of the slower Genos. He put the truck in reverse. The Geno’s legs were twitching violently. Tracy didn’t think it was quite dead yet as he was trying to push himself off of the ground. His left arm was struggling with the task, his right side immobile like that part of his brain had been damaged and he couldn’t control it anymore.