by Brett, Cal
A moment later a man stepped carefully into the threshold and paused to look left and right outside. He carried a pistol with a two-handed grip and came out of the building with it pointed down at the low ready. Seeming confident that there were no immediate threats the man turned and began moving towards the alley from which Simmons and Bradley had just emerged.
“Clark,” Bradley called out in a low voice.
Mr. Clark seemed startled as he turned to face them but kept the pistol pointed at the ground. “Colors? Is that you?”
Bradley and Simmons emerged from their hiding places and jogged over to where Clark stood.
“What have you got?” Colors said with concern.
“Bit of a situation inside.” Clark replied. “Come with me.”
Clark lead the two back into the warehouse and, though it was dark, he moved quickly through a maze of offices and storage spaces until he pushed through a door into the main warehouse.
Bradley and Simmons didn’t like moving through unknown territory so quickly, but they trusted Clark so did their best to keep up.
“You clear all these rooms, bruv?” Simmons asked as he stepped from the narrow, cluttered offices into the huge room stacked high with pallets teetering with what looked like bags of earth.
“Yes,” Clark said off handedly, “the Leftenant and I did.”
“Is the Leftenant ok?” Colors asked with concern as Clark led them into the maze.
“Yes, “he’s fine.” Clark answered striding ahead so fast the more cautious, slower moving Marines were in danger of losing him.
“Blast!” Simmons cursed after bumping into one of the towers of pallets. The slight impact kicked up a cloud of dust and a small avalanche of dirt spilled down from above.
“Watch out!” Clark admonished backtracking to them. “These bloody things aren’t stable. Now, come on. We need to hurry.”
Bradley and Simmons glanced at each other and, though they couldn’t see each other’s eyes in the darkness, both knew the other had a face that asked, ‘what the hell is going on’?
“Where is Major Garrett?” Clark asked over his shoulder.
“He and Kelly are out front trying to parlay with the old ladies.” Bradley answered as they slid through another narrow gap. Dust and dirt rained down while they jostled through.
“Good. Ah! Here we are.” Clark said before rushing around a corner. To someone they could not yet see, he said, “Sir, I have Sergeant Simmons and Color Sergeant Bradley!”
The two Marines rounded the corner to find Windsor and Kim on their knees in a huge mound of dirt where it looked like one of the huge stacks of pallets had collapsed.
“Going to need your help, Simmons,” Clark pointed down into the pile.
As they drew nearer, they saw the face and shoulders of a figure that had been partially dug out of the earthen pile. It was so covered in dirt that it took them two steps closer before they recognized it.
“Bevins!” Both Sergeants said almost together.
Simmons leaped forward and shouldered in next to Windsor to look the boy in the face. He saw his eyes were open and began scrambling at his pack to pull out his med kit. “Bevins, you with me bruv?!”
Bevins cracked a pained smile. “Sorry Sarge. Made a mess of it. Knocked the bloody pallets over.”
“Don’ you worry, bruv,” Simmons said looking down at him. Even in the dim light the medical sergeant could tell that Bevin’s face was pale. Unscrewing his water bottle, he poured some onto his face to clear the dirt from his eyes, nose, and mouth. “That better? Don’t worry. We’re going to get you out of here.”
Simmons looked back at Kim and the Leftenant who sat there motionless. He realized he was going to have to get them moving. “Sir,” he put his hand on Windsor’s shoulder to get his attention, “I’m going to need some help digging him out so I can see if he has other injuries.”
Windsor looked back at him and weakly motioned to a hole in the dirt in the spot where Bevins right leg would likely be. The hole was coated in blood and gore. Simmons squinted inside and thought he could see bone even in the low light.
“What, the…” Simmons’ question trailed off as Windsor turned his head and nodded to another body laid out in the aisle nearby. Its drawn features, clawed hands and threadbare clothes made what it was, or had been, almost certain. “Is that a…?
“Yes.” Windsor said before he could finish the question.
“And he already…”
“Yes.” Windsor answered again, flatly.
“Fuck!” Simmons spit. His head spun through his medical training for something, anything, but he could think of nothing. Finally, unwilling to give up he began digging into the pile. “Let’s get him out of this dirt. I need to see the wound.”
“What’s going on Simmons?” Bradley had taken up a security position and looked back at them from a few steps away.
“Might have a bite,” Simmons replied. “Need to get him out to put eyes on it.”
“Roger that,” Bradley said. “I’ve got your six.”
Windsor and Kim began digging and they soon had Bevins’ body uncovered.
“Is it bad?” Bevins winced.
“It’s too dark to tell in here,” Simmons said, though he could see well enough that the boy’s thigh was shredded. “Let’s get you outside. Leftenant, Mr. Clark, Corporal Kim give me a hand.”
“I’ll clear the way,” Bradley said, moving ahead to cover their exit.
“One, two, three!” Simmons counted, and they lifted Bevins up. Quickly carrying him back around the maze of pallets, through the dark offices and out into the moonlight. “Right here, right here,” the medic announced causing the group to lay the wounded man down gently onto the hard dirt.
The added light of the moon only confirmed what he feared. The undead thing had dug down and clawed out strips of meat from Bevins leg.
“How does it look Doc?” Bevins groaned.
“Not so bad. How does it feel?” Simmons went about cleaning and wrapping the wound even though he knew it wouldn’t help. The boy would be dead and reanimated long before there was there was a risk of any normal infection setting in. “Does it hurt?
“No, can’t feel it at all.” Bevins stared up at the sky. “Can’t even feel my legs, I think. Cold. Just feeling a little cold, Sarge.”
“You sure,” Simmons asked, “I can give you some pain killers.”
“Nah,” Bevins whispered, “don’t waste ‘em on me.”
Simmons finished wrapping the gauze and sat back on his heels. Looking over at Windsor he shook his head.
“Christ on the Cross,” Windsor answered and grabbed the boy’s hand. “Bevins you are one hell of a Marine and It’s been an honor to serve with you.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Bevins replied, “sorry I botched it.”
“Bollocks!” Windsor said. “You got our asses through so many tight spots. You are one of the bravest bastards I’ve ever seen. It’s not your fault the damn world is falling apart. I sent you in that warehouse. It’s my fault…and I’m really, very sorry, you did everything… everything, right.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Sir,” Bevins whispered. “You never know when your number is going to come up. The Lord’s got a day and time for all of us. I just wish I could have gotten home with you.”
“Ah, bloody fuck” Windsor sighed. “We’ll come back for you, I swear it.”
“Nah,” Bevins tried to smile. His gums had darkened to a deep purple and seemed to shrink away from his teeth. “Don’t swear that, Sir. I’ll be fine. You get the rest of the lads home, yea? Besides, it’s not so bad here.”
Bevins face seemed to grow whiter as they watched. Blue arteries were visible through his cheeks. Dark rings circled his eyes.
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Windsor asked.
“No, Sir,” Bevins mumbled. “I can feel it inside me. Nothing to be done now. Just let me lay here and look at the moon. Tell the rest of the lads I said goodb
ye. I’ll see them on the other side, and all that rot.”
“Of course,” Windsor agreed.
“Michael?” Bevins asked.
“I’m right here,” Kim leaned in closer.
“Did you kill those bastards?”
“Yea, brother,” Kim answered. “I bloody got all of them.”
“Good… Will you do me too?” Bevins asked. “When it’s time?”
Kim looked at his friend, eyes frightened and his head shaking. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that.”
“It’s ok bruv,” Bevins wheezed, “don’t sweat it.”
“It won’t be long,” Simmons whispered to the Leftenant.
“You should all go, Sir,” Bradley said from where he kneeled watching their surroundings. “I’ll do it when the time comes.”
“No.” Windsor said with a deep breath and patted Bevins on the chest. “I won’t put that on anyone else.” He tried to sound upbeat. “I’ll take care of it, Corporal, and I’ll damn sure put you in for a medal when we get home.”
Bevins mouth twitched in a smile.
Rob stood at the peak of the roof talking to Kelly and the Major down below. They had moved out from behind the battered trucks and stood in the drive waiting for the Baldwins to get the warehouse door open. When the heavy door finally slid open Kelly looked up and shouted, “Climb down and meet us inside!”
“Will do,” he said back. “Tell them not to shoot us.”
“I’ll try to remember,” Kelly winked.
Robbie pointed at the hatch said, “this way, guys.”
Kelly waved as she and the Major disappeared under the eave.
Robbie lead O’Reilly and MacGregor down the winding staircase and into the fetid greenhouse. At the bottom they could see the spot where the man they had shot, had landed. The man lay crumpled and still in the flattened corn stalks. Looking up, Robbie could see several dark rectangles, framing the night sky in the greenhouse ceiling. He presumed these marked where the other two men had fallen through.
“See those holes in the roof,” Robbie said pointing to the gaps in the ceiling, “I think those men he was talking about may have fallen through as well.”
“We’ll check it out, bruv,” O’Reilly said. “You stay here.”
The two Marines vanished into the darkness. Robbie could only tell the direction they went by the swishing sound of the tall corn stalks as they slid between them. When they were further away, even the sound of them moving through the thick undergrowth was imperceptible. A few minutes later from the far side of the large room, Robbie heard what sounded like a small bird calling. Then the room grew very quiet as he sat on the steps staring into the blackness, waiting.
“Clear,” a voice whispered almost right next to Robbie’s ear causing him to jump.
“Crap!” Robbie stuttered as he spun around to see the two Marines emerge from the foliage right behind him. “Did you find them?”
“Oh aye,” MacGregor said in his brogue.
“Alive?” Robbie asked.
“Not anymore,” O’Reilly responded holding up a bloody knife.
Robbie stood. “Alrighty then, should we go in and meet the others?”
“Wae she goo bock oop,” MacGregor responded, “tak the hae grund.”
It sounded like gibberish to Robbie, who asked. “What?”
“He says, we’ll go back up and provide over watch,” O’Reilly translated. “Make sure those bastards don’t come back. Keep an eye out for the dead.”
“Oh, yea that’s probably a good idea.” Robbie agreed.
“You go on inside,” O’Reilly nudged him. “Just save us some tea and biscuits, yea?”
Bradley, Simmons, and Kim leaned on the walls of the alley, waiting. Kim fidgeted, shuffling his feet nervously in the soft dirt, and shifted back and forth under the weight of two rifles strapped over his shoulders. Bradley stood motionless, staring back into the open bay where they had left their three companions. Simmons smoked a cigarette that burned an orange dot in the shadows.
Windsor had asked them all to step away, so they didn’t have to see Bevins’ gruesome final moments. They had all seen friends go in much worse ways, but the officer insisted this memory not be piled onto all the others. Clark had refused to leave the young Leftenant unguarded but finally took a few steps away and turned his back.
Although they thought they were prepared, they jerked, when the bang of two rounds echoed off the brick and mortar walls around them. Bradley recognized the sound of the Leftenant’s 9mm pistol. A few seconds later the crunching of heavy footsteps through gravel proceeded Windsor’s approach. He marched past his men in the alley without a glance. His shoulders hunched forward and head down as he re-holstered his weapon.
A few steps behind, Clark followed with his own pistol in hand. He looked pensively at the trio as he came up to them. Stepping over to Bradley he held out a familiar green messenger bag. The Color Sergeant took it and looked quizzically at the civilian.
“Personal effects,” Clark responded with a sigh, “along with ammunition and a few other items I thought better not to leave behind.”
“Right.” Bradley accepted the bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He pointed his thumb out into the wide driveway. “You sure it’s sorted back there?”
“Indeed,” Clark lowered his eyes.
“And what about the Leftenant?”
“He seems pretty shaken up right now,” Clark replied.“
“Well, we can’t have him falling apart now, can we?” Bradley said as Clark started to walk away. “Keep an eye on him, yea?”
“I will,” Clark held out his arms. “It’s what I do.”
He then hurried ahead to catch up with the young officer. The three enlisted Marines somberly fell into step behind, with Kim and Bradley walking backwards to cover their exit.
Kelly and the Major were standing at the warehouse door talking with Baldwins when the Leftenant emerged from the alleyway.
Beatrice saw him first and quickly lifted the big shotgun. “Stop right there!”
Garrett and Kelly spun to see Windsor come to a sudden halt.
“Ah,” Garrett said calmly, “I see you have decided to join us Leftenant.”
“Friend of yours?” Beatrice asked.
“Indeed,” Garrett smiled and waved a hand at the younger officer. “Ladies may I introduce my executive officer, Leftenant Arthur Windsor of His Majesty’s Royal Marines 4-3 Commando.”
“Hey, he’s handsome,” Sunshine said.
“Well, let’s not flatter the boy, Ms. Sunshine,” Garrett said. “It might go to his head.”
The Major went to meet Windsor and saw the sunken shoulders and blank look in his eyes as he drew closer. Gripping him by the shoulders he leaned in and whispered, “Steady lad, what’s happened?”
“Bevins,” Windsor said. “He was bit. I had to shoot him.”
Garrett tightened his grip on Windsor’s shoulders. His eyes narrowed as the news ran through him like ice water through his veins. Another lost comrade. Another man down. Another loss under his command. One less rifleman, in a campaign where there were already too few. He steeled himself from the loss as he had done many times before.
“Listen to me, Arthur,” Garrett said. “You get a grip on yourself. Buck up and put your game face on, yes? Right now, we need to talk to these ladies and find out what they know about the area. There’s nothing more we, or anyone, can do for Bevins. He was a good lad, but we must stay focused on the task in front of us. We must stay strong because the rest of the men are counting on us to get them through this. Push your feelings down. Put them in a box for now. Can you do that?”
Windsor shook his head yes, taking several deep breaths to push back the emotions threatening to explode through his chest.
“Command is a bitch, isn’t it?” Garrett sighed.
Windsor nodded. “I’ve seen men die. I didn’t think…”
“It’s different when they die doing what you ordered t
hem to do,” Garrett said. “It rips your guts out, but you’ve got to post up and carry on. It’s one of those things they can’t teach you down at Lympstone.”
As Windsor was collecting himself, Clark and the others emerged from the alley.
“Hey?!” Beatrice pointed her shotgun at the group. “Who is that?!”
Garrett glanced over the Leftenant’s shoulder and raised his hands up. “Hold your fire. They are with us.”
Looking back at Windsor. “Are you going to be ok Leftenant?”
“Yes Major,” the younger officer gathered himself. “But I don’t think I’m up for taking tea with the locals right now.”
Color Sergeant Bradley approached the officers and saluted, “Gentlemen. We need to do a patrol of the area to make sure there aren’t any stragglers. I’d like to take a few of the lads and sweep the area.”
“Good idea, Colors,” the Major said. “Leftenant why don’t you go with them? I think Kelly and I can handle the formalities here.”
“Yes,” Windsor said with relief. “We should also see if we can get that front gate closed. With all that noise it won’t be long before our hungry friends are back.”
“Sir,” Clark stepped up and spoke to Windsor, “I think Colors and the men should be able to handle that? Why don’t we go inside and take a break?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Clark,” the young officer replied, annoyed at his constant mothering. He took a deep breath before turning to the Sergeant and taking charge again, “Colors, get some men on policing up these bodies and stacking them outside the gates. We don’t want them stinking up the place.”
“Very good, Sir.” Bradley replied.
“And Colors,” the Major added. “Secure any weapons and ammunition they may have left behind as well.”
“Aye Sir,” the Sergeant agreed.
“C’mon inside you all,” Beatrice said from behind them. “You and your friends better get on in here before they decide to come back.”