The n00b Warriors (Book One)

by Scott Douglas

  Johnny squinted. “Who’s that coming at us?”

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said. The figure was too far away, and he could only make out that the person had long hair.

  Dylan continued to stare until the figure cried out “Dylan!” and began to run towards them. It was Trinity’s voice—he started to run.

  “What are you doing? It’s not safe out here!” Dylan said in a panic. Before he could even think about holding back, Trinity was in his arms, crying. He stroked her hair and felt blood. “Is this blood yours?” he asked, horrified.

  She nodded and tearfully explained, “It was awful. A medic came from the company next to us. We were completely out of supplies, so I went with him a few hundred feet over—he said they had extra.” She began to cry harder. “Cocos were waiting for us when we got there. They killed him! I just barely got away.”

  Dylan squeezed her harder and said, “You’re safe now.”

  She shook her head. “What about the supplies?”

  “We’ll get them another time—we need to get back,” he said as he painfully let go of her.

  “But then he dies for nothing—I can’t return without medicine. There are too many people waiting for me to bring it back.”

  Dylan rubbed his forehead and nodded. He turned to Sanchez. “You and Johnny get the men back to the trenches and get them trained—I expect there’ll be fighting tonight.”

  Sanchez nodded. “And you?”

  “There was medicine stockpiled at the HQ. They can spare it, and we’re going to get it.”

  Dylan and Trinity quietly walked back toward HQ. Trinity paused when they passed a sign that said “Interlaken Park.” She looked at the burned pieces of trees; it still smelled of ash, and much of the park was completely burned away. She walked to the remains of a tree that had fallen over and sat on the trunk. “Sit with me,” she said to Dylan.

  He followed her and asked quietly, “Are we officially real soldiers now?”

  “I guess.”

  “Doesn’t feel any different.” A bomb exploded nearby. Neither of them flinched. “I guess that’s the difference—none of this shocks us anymore.”

  Trinity turned to him and said seriously, “I know something happened with you and Johnny out there.”

  Dylan looked down and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Trinity.”

  “He’s different—distant. He’s like you.”

  Dylan raised his head. The steeple of the church they had passed coming into the city was not far in front of them. Dylan looked at it curiously and asked, “How can you still believe—after all of this?”

  Trinity smiled. “God never said it would be easy.”

  “Did he say anything about how it was okay to slaughter the innocent?”

  “It’s war,” she replied.

  “That just doesn’t always do it for me anymore.” He paused, thinking. “Sometimes I feel like I know that it’s wrong—I know it—and I think the right thing to do would just be to accept death and not fight anymore.”

  “A soldier came to our church once and told us about how he killed all these little kids—kids—and he had to do it because they were shooting at him. But when he went to sleep that night, he just couldn’t rest. He pulled a pocket Bible his grandma had given him before he left and read the verse, ‘We have all sinned and fallen short of the grace of God.’ I just keep thinking to myself that God’s going to forgive me.”

  Dylan kicked a rock. “It has to be hard for you—I hate what I do, but I don’t have to answer to anyone.”

  Trinity looked at him sadly, but didn’t say anything.

  He took her hand and squeezed it. Softly, he said, “I don’t know how, Trinity—but I swear to you, somehow I will get you out of all this, and you’ll have your entire life to make amends for everything.”

  A tear slipped from Trinity’s eye, but she quickly wiped it away and held back the others. She stood and said, “Come on—let’s go get that medicine.”

  They walked a little further and noticed a Jeep next to a building. The driver was hunched, dead, over the steering wheel. Dylan reached in and turned the ignition. It still started. Trinity helped Dylan put the man into the back seat, and they drove the Jeep back to the HQ.

  As they passed more dead bodies, Dylan told Trinity he wanted her to be the medic until they could get a real one. She had gotten used to the dead and injured bodies, and knew how to treat most of the injuries now—at least, well enough for them to be sent back off the lines to a real doctor. She was too good to have to kill more people. She was better at helping than killing.

  # # #

  (Rebel Frosted Flake, Blog Entry)

  THE NEW AMERICA

  Posted: Monday, February 2, 2015 | 6:13 PM (GMT)

  Today, armed soldiers brought me to my new home. They said they were members of the National Guard, but I think they were part of the volunteer militia. I asked them why I had to leave, and they told me because it wasn’t safe. Safe for whom? was all I could wonder.

  The opposition is getting strong. That’s why I had to leave. The government decided it was best to put people in a controlled environment.

  They told me when it was safe again, I’d be able to return, but I have doubts that I’ll have anything to return to. Even if I do return, none of it will matter. My house is empty now. All I have are memories.

  Camp Pendleton is now my home until the government tells me otherwise. I live in a tent. I share a bunk with Sam, a neighbor who also lost his wife in the attacks. I have a trunk that locks, but I have no possessions to put in it. There are 30 other men who share our tent.

  At the end of the tent is a TV with a PlayStation. There’s only one person who plays it. The rest of us try to avoid it—it reminds us of what started everything.

  Tags: camp Pendleton, new home

  Level 14

  The Longest Morning

  “Today we make history!” Tommy screamed, shooting into the air, standing boldly outside of the trench. The sun hit his back, and he towered above everyone like a god.

  A mortar came soaring from the air, and it hit just to the right of Tommy, but he didn’t flinch. He began to laugh. “I’m going to be a hero!” He jumped into the trench and headed towards Dylan, who was drinking coffee and watching, unimpressed. “We go after the Golden Wii today!”

  Dylan nodded. “How many men will you need?”

  Tommy smiled. “All of them.”

  Dylan raised his eyebrows, confused.

  “We’re going to charge their trench.”

  “But we don’t have enough men! There’s no way we’ll win.”

  Tommy shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about winning. I just need the Golden Wii.”

  Suddenly, several guerillas appeared and began attacking the trench. Dylan fired at one and yelled, “Take cover and return fire!”

  Tommy shook his head. “Don’t take cover! Attack! Get your men out of these trenches—we’re engaging!”

  “It’s suicide!” Dylan shouted over the gunfire.

  “It’s the only way to get the Wii.” Tommy started pushing kids out of the trench and commanding that they fight.

  Before Dylan knew it, he and his troops were fighting for their lives in the worst area of the worst front: Seattle’s no-man’s land.

  Dylan was next to Hunter, whose eyes were blank and distant as he fired. Dylan saw him get shot. Hunter fell backwards, and Dylan ran to him. Blood blossomed on Hunter’s left shoulder.

  “It’s just my arm, and it just nicked it,” he said. Trinity ran up from behind and quickly began to attach a bandage.

  “I can still shoot.”

  “Stay down,” Dylan ordered.

  “You need all the men you can get,” Hunter said, pushing Dylan and starting to fire again.

  Dylan had never seen so many people fall so quickly. Everywhere he looked, another person dropped. There were few places to take cover, and they were nothing more than sitting ducks.

  Dylan dove t
o shelter in a crater that a bomb had created as two Company A men went to work on cutting the Coco wires so the rest of the companies could cross and continue the attack. He motioned for Trinity and Hunter to join him in the crater.

  A bullet whizzed by Trinity’s head, and Dylan said, “Someone needs to watch you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Dylan shook his head. “You’re the only medic out here right now—you can’t watch yourself when you’re bandaging up someone else.”

  “I’ll watch her,” Johnny said, jumping into the crater.

  “Oh, right,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes.

  Johnny was about to say something, but then shot a Coco that was running towards the crater. “I can do this—let me. You need to be giving orders, not watching over Trinity.”

  Dylan nodded briefly, then ran off with Hunter following close behind.

  He joined Aimee, Tommy, and Sanchez several feet away; they had taken cover behind a Jeep that had been blown up long before. Tommy was looking through his binoculars at the Coco trenches ahead. “It’s in there—I know it is.”

  “It’s not worth it,” Dylan said. “We’re losing too many! We have to fall back—it’s the only way we stand any chance of holding them off.”

  The ground started rumbling then, and a massive Coco tank came roaring across no-man’s land. Dylan had never seen a tank in action. Most had been destroyed on both sides during the first 10 years of war.

  Tommy shook his head. “I’m going in.” He looked to Sanchez and Aimee and said, “You two are coming with me—Dylan, take out that tank and cover me.”

  “You don’t have to go,” Dylan said to Aimee and Sanchez.

  Sanchez laughed. “This is what Company A lives for!”

  “We’ll be okay,” Aimee promised. “Just cover us.”

  Dylan watched them leave and then turned towards the tank. “Hunter, I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this one alive.”

  Hunter looked at him sadly. Dylan could tell that he agreed. Then he took off, shouting, “Let’s go down as heroes!”

  As they ran, a bullet came at Dylan, but from out of nowhere, Milton jumped in front of him and took the bullet in the chest. Hunter shot the man who had fired the bullet as Dylan hunched over Milton.

  “I get my hero’s death!” Milton mumbled. There was joy in his eyes.

  Dylan looked down at the bleeding; he knew it was coming too quickly for Milton to survive. He took Milton’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you.”

  Milton smiled. “This is the way I’ve always dreamed of going.” He let out a sigh, and then his head fell backwards. Dylan knew he was gone. He had died from a bullet that had been meant for Dylan.

  Dylan rose, a fire in his eyes, and turned to Hunter, who was shooting at anything that came near them. “Let’s take out that tank,” he growled.

  They started running again, and Dylan shot wildly at all the Cocos who stood in their way. Hunter killed the man firing the tank’s machine gun.

  When they scrambled on top of the tank, Dylan tossed the body over. He looked inside and saw the driver staring at him helplessly. He fired a single shot, killing him, then jumped into the tank. “Take the machine gun, Hunter! Let’s see if I can figure out how to drive this thing.”

  Hunter obeyed. Dozens of Cocos were already approaching them, and he took them out easily as Dylan struggled to figure out the controls. The labels were all written in a different language. “Keep firing!” he yelled.

  “Maybe we might make it out after all!” Hunter called down, excited.

  Dylan had expected the controls to be digital and computerized, but they looked like something from World War II. The tank really might have been that old. It smelled like an antique, and it was full of spiderwebs. A picture of a soldier with the Golden Wii was taped next to the controls, and Dylan crumpled it and tossed it on the ground.

  Dylan pushed a stick, and the tank slowly began to move. “I figured something out!”

  He kept the tank rumbling forward, and Hunter called down, “They’re running from us, Dylan! They’re afraid!”

  Dylan looked behind him, trying to see where the button for the larger cannon might be, but he couldn’t find it.

  Several minutes later, Hunter stopped firing, and Dylan looked up, fearing he was dead. He wasn’t. “Why’d you stop?”

  “I don’t think there’s anyone left.”

  Dylan climbed up and peeked out. The battlefield was quiet. Bodies were everywhere. He searched the Coco trench. There was no movement.

  It had been a long time since either of them had seen it so calm.

  He saw Aimee and Tommy running out and pointed. Tommy had the Golden Wii, and Aimee was covering him. Dylan moved the tank towards them.

  “I did it!” Tommy crowed. “I’m going home!”

  Dylan exited the tank and looked at the Wii. He wanted to see what they had fought for. It was nothing. Everything felt like a waste. “Where’s Sanchez?”

  “Took one in the head,” Tommy said, excited. “Brave soldier, that one.”

  The four of them started walking cautiously towards the trench. Everywhere they looked were dead and injured soldiers from both the Coco and rebel side. Johnny was one of them. He was wounded in several places, and Dylan heard him moaning as they ran up. “Where’s Trinity?” Dylan asked.

  “Dead,” Johnny softly said.

  The words took a few moments to hit Dylan. “I don’t understand?”

  “I got hit. She went off on her own, and I saw her, Dylan—they shot her, and she fell.”

  “Where? She might be alive!”

  Johnny shook his head as tears streamed down his face. “I could see her—she wasn’t moving, and then a Coco took her. They took a bunch of the women.”

  “I have to find her.”

  Tommy shook his head. “We got to get out of here—get the Wii somewhere safe. They’re going to be coming for us, and they’re going to be coming strong.”

  Dylan’s eyes welled up. It was the first time since fighting that he had cried. “I’m staying until I find her. I promised her I would take care of her.” He walked off before anyone could argue. Hunter and Aimee followed, but Tommy went the other way.

  Aimee put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Trinity hated it out here—she was more spiritual than all of us combined. If anyone would find peace in death it would be her.”

  “Did you hold the Golden Wii?”

  Aimee nodded. “I got it, and then Tommy took it from me.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “It’s a symbol, Dylan—it represents something greater. Symbols are all we have.” She paused and added, “But no—it wasn’t worth it.”

  Dylan went to everybody lying on the field; the bodies that were facedown, he turned over. He studied each of them. He tried to remember the names of the ones in his company. He apologized. He had Aimee and Hunter drag the few who were still alive, including Johnny, back to the trench to wait for help.

  Aimee pointed out that there was movement on the Coco side. Reinforcements had started to replace the lines, and they would start firing once they were settled in enough to realize that there was someone in no-man’s land.

  Dylan ignored the threat. He went up and down the Coco line two times, but there was no sign of Trinity.

  He felt no fear. A part of him wanted to cross over to the enemy side and find wherever it was they had taken her body. He wanted to see her even if she was dead, so he could have closure, and he could tell her that he was sorry.

  # # #

  Dylan sat down on the tank and watched Aimee return to their trench. Hunter came up next to him. They watched the sun setting in silence, across the enemy’s field. The new Cocos were pulling weapons from the dead bodies and carrying away the wounded. Dylan felt sorry for them. They all looked new—too new to know what they were in store for.

  “I never thought it would happen like this,” Dylan tearfully admitted, “If i
t ever happened, I wanted it to be together.”

  “Maybe she made it out somehow,” Hunter said hopefully.

  Dylan shook his head. “There’s no way, Hunter. She’s gone—it’s just you and me now.” He looked at Hunter’s shoulder; in the chaos, he had forgotten about him getting shot. “How’s your arm?”

  Hunter shrugged. “I told you, it just nicked it—the bullet didn’t even stay inside. I always thought getting shot would be more dramatic.” Dylan was silent, and Hunter added, “We still have each other.”