Afraid of the Dark

by Chris Hechtl

  “Okay, whatever,” Benny muttered looking away.

  Hernandez nodded and kept walking.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Why the hell are you a private?” Wayne asked Hernandez as they met up after the perimeter inspection. It was a mark of how things were improving that they had perimeter inspections at all. And the fact that people took their jobs seriously... well, security usually did. But still, it was an achievement. The militia was starting to look better every day. They were even working on a chain of command... which brought up his current query. “I mean... What are you just out of boot or something?” he demanded.

  “No man, I well...” Hernandez shrugged as Wayne glanced at him. “If you gotta know I wasn't always a PFC. I was a sergeant until I got drunk and pissed an officer off.”

  “Ouch,” Wayne said. “Bad?”

  “Bad as it can get. He caught me screwing his wife.”

  Wayne's eyes widened. “Oh shit, you're lucky you ain't dead man,” he said shaking his head.

  “Probably,” Hernandez said. “That and the fact that the bitch didn't tell me she was married probably saved my ass.”

  “Um...”

  “Turns out she went to the enlisted bar after she found out he was screwing around as well. So she picked me up and... well, the rest is history.”

  “Crap,” Wayne said shaking his head. “Sucks man,” he said.

  “That's life,” Hernandez said shaking his head. “That's war. Battle of the sexes man. Sometimes there are casualties, even people not supposed to be involved.”

  “True,” Wayne said smiling a little. “Way too true,” he said.

  “Such is life man. Come on. I'll take your side you take mine this time, then we'll get some downtime.”

  “Sounds good,” Wayne said with a nod.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Shane had a close call while clearing houses the next day. He came back later that evening and Jen found him just as he finished listening to a song. “Get your ass back home,” he hummed smiling as he climbed out of the truck. He couldn't quite hide the shakes. She took one look and nodded as she got close. He took her in his arms immediately, making her blush as he trapped her arms against his chest, under their chins.

  He kissed her long and thoroughly. When the kiss broke, more for air than anything else he heard a discrete cough behind him and then a “Hubba hubba!” and a wolf whistle. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Go get your own, this one's mine,” he growled gruffly.

  There was a muted laugh. Jen blushed and cupped his chin with one hand. “Down boy,” she said and then kissed him again. That brought a few fresh barks of laughter as he gently eased up on his squeeze. “Rough day I take it?” she asked, trying to put the smell of blood, mostly alien blood thankfully, but also the scent of cordite and other things out of her mind. It was best to breathe through her mouth.

  “A bit,” he said, shrugging. She looked into his eyes. She'd seen the way he was favoring his shoulder. He had some scratches on his forearm. Having him home alive and in one piece though, that made all the worry worth it.

  “A bit he says, bit hell, almost got torn apart. Hellcat just came out of nowhere and he jammed his gun right down its throat and pulled...” Shane turned on Bobby and glared. Bobby immediately wound down and shut up under the intense gaze. “Um ah, yeah, rough day...” he said awkwardly after a moment and then coughed; hand over his mouth as he looked away. He kicked a towel away and turned away.

  Jen gave Shane a worried but exasperated look. She knew her husband well. “I'll bet,” Jen said, hugging her husband once more and then rubbing the small of his back. She clung to him, knowing just how close a call he had had and feeling his body shake a little. He patted her hair gently.

  He smiled as his grip tightened once more. “Think we can find a broom closet somewhere?” he whispered naughtily in her ear.

  She rolled her eyes as she laughed, shaking her head. “Horny as a toad. Typical. You're fine.”

  “There is nothing like reaffirming life after facing death,” he said, smiling as his eyes danced.

  “And here I thought it was a spike in hormones, adrenalin, BP and other things,” she teased demurely. She squeezed him a little. It felt good, knowing he'd come back alive. You knew they were having a good day when everyone came home alive, if not in one piece.

  “That too probably,” he said, not letting go.

  “You're terrible you know that?” she asked, but her eyes twinkled and her mouth smiled coyly up at him.

  “You know we could do it in the back seat...” he oofed as she stepped on his foot and then poked him in the ribs hard. There was a sputter of laughter behind them that turned into discrete coughing as he looked around. He turned back to her with a smile.

  “You're saying no, but you're lips and eyes are saying bring it,” he teased, smile widening.

  “Don't you worry, we'll find a time and place, sometime,” she said with an amused and lazy smile. “Just don't think I'm that easy, I expect to be wined and dined like all the rest me bucko,” she said patting his cheek. She squirmed as he caught the hand and then kissed the back of it, eyes never leaving hers. Her free hand went to her throat and she flushed a little.

  He chuckled as she squirmed out of his grasp. He made a mock grab at her but she danced out of his reach, giggling. “Later lover boy, go take a shower. You stink like a goat.”

  “We could make it a shower for two!” he said. Bob's interior crews had just gotten the first community showers up the other day. They were in constant use.

  “You me and half your squad. PASS!” she called, turning in place and then turning back. He chuckled at the looks he was getting and waved. “You heard the lady, hit the showers boys and girls.” They filed inside and made the turn to the barracks.

  “With all due respect boss, with you in your present condition... we'll um...”

  “Oh shut up Bobby,” he said shaking his head in amusement as it began to fade. The squad broke into peals of laughter and he felt his spirits rise once more as a few back slapped him. Another day done and they'd survived it. He took off his shirt and tossed it in the general direction of the hamper as he began pulling stuff out to use in the shower.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Walt grimaced at the sight before him. He'd let the design team have a free hand in what they were doing. That seemed to be a mistake.

  “What's this supposed to be?” he asked, using one hand to pantomime something reaching through the roll cage of the buggy. “This supposed to be your idea of a shark cage or something?” he asked. “No I get it, rolling meat on a platter?” he asked looking at the crew.

  “No man, we'll plate over it. This is just the prototype,” the kid said waving.

  “Right,” he said stepping back. They had taken someone's desert buggy and added a gunner's mount in the back with one of the improvised mounts. “What's up there... oh shit!” he started to laugh. “A flame thrower? You can't be serious!” he said, shaking his head dubiously. He couldn't see how the gunner was supposed to be situated. The person would be right on top of the engine. Right on top. As in straddling the thing.

  “Well, it's a work in progress,” a guy said polishing his hands.

  “I'll say,” Walt said. “No idea where to start,” he said. “Flame thrower? Any of you think about what would happen in a headwind? Something called back blast? Wall of flames coming right back in your face?” he asked, pointing to the open roll cage again.

  “Okay, so maybe the StarCraft Hellion idea was a bit of a stretch,” the lead kid admitted grudgingly.

  “A bit,” Walt said shaking his head.

  “You only gave us a couple of days to do this you know. I...” Walt held up a hand before the excuses could get worse. He checked out the mount. They had a basic leaf hinge mount, it couldn't pivot or turn.

  “No... This thing can only fire in one arc?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that's part of our dilemma. That and w
eight.”

  “Got more problems than that,” Walt sighed. “You add armor to this thing and it slows it down to a crawl.”

  “Hence the weight comment,” the guy said. “Look I know what I'm talking about, I've built my fair share of these things.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to do a truck but I was outvoted.”

  “You should have gone that route. A truck, a four wheeler monster truck would make sense.”

  “Higher center of gravity.”

  “Slow as hell,” someone else said.

  “Yeah, but its got mobility in its favor. Rock climbing for one. Try taking something like this over anything not flat or sandy. No, this is nice, we can use some of it for a patrol vehicle, but no way can we take it outside the perimeter. Damn if I'd be caught dead in one, which is what anyone would be if they do get caught.”

  “We could use wire mesh to screen it...”

  “For what? It's not a back door. Wire mesh would be torn apart by the aliens. One good swipe and its tissue paper.”

  “We can go with the truck idea,” the team lead said grudgingly. “There are enough of them around I guess,” he said.

  Walt looked him over and nodded. “Right. And with the bed open you can enclose it and have your person standing. Or set it up as modular, which is what I wanted in the first place.”

  “Modular?”

  “Didn't read the design doc I shot you?” Walt asked amused.

  “I glanced at it,” the team lead said defensively.

  “Glanced at it, I'm sure. Didn't bother to read beyond the project title though I bet cause I had it all laid out in bullet form. Look, we've got every decent SUV, truck and other heavy vehicle out there now. We're slowly retrofitting them as we can. What I want from you people is something we can take as a general platform. Be it Toyota, GM, or Ford and modify it into a decent hummer wanna-be.” He ticked the points off with his fingers. “Its got to have four wheel drive, low center of gravity is nice but its also got to be able to climb over obstacles, winch is a plus, armor is good, let’s see, gunner, pintle mount if possible, swivel of course, and able to take in people in the back. Modular, so we can take one frame and use it for an ambulance or an APC... um... Oh, and easy to use and repair is a must.”

  “All that?” a woman asked blinking.

  “All that and more. We've got to make parts for these you know. No running to the local auto part store. At least not for much longer. So its best if we get this right the first time.”

  “Or second time since this is our first,” the lead said, hands in his pockets. He looked at his team. “Okay, we'll put our heads together and get back to you.”

  “You do that,” Walt said with a sigh. “You do that.” He shook his head and walked off. “Amateurs. They've spent too much time playing video games,” he muttered darkly.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “What's this I hear the people who are going out are getting an extra meal?” Bob demanded, coming into the council.

  “Good day to you too Bob,” Walt said as the big guy tossed his helmet onto the table. Dirt came off of it and dust flew in the air. Tamara scowled at him and then picked the helmet up and brushed the dust and dirt off and then flicked her hands and brushed them together.

  “Sorry,” Bob muttered, knowing his wife was annoyed with him. He'd done it so often before that they'd had a couple of rows over it. Now he wasn't sure if it mattered or not. Apparently it did to her though.

  “Never mind,” she muttered. She looked at the others.

  “What we're trying to do is set up an economy. Or at least get back to one. We're also trying to get our people to rest.”

  “Mine need it as much as anyone else does you know,” Bob said.

  “True Bob. But combat is a bit different. If they get too wired, too punchy they tend to burn out fast. Or start jumping at shadows and shooting our own people.”

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Ross said quietly. The others looked at him. Shane and Jerry both nodded.

  “Right, see, I've had combat training. I know the tricks to deal with combat, and I've been in combat for extended periods. Most of our people in the field are civies. They need time to adjust, and time to blow off steam. Its hard...”

  “So is construction. Especially in these conditions.”

  “And so is working in a machine shop,” Walt said mildly.

  Shane paused and looked at both of them. Jen kicked him under the table. He looked at her and then back to them all and took a deep breath and rose. “I was going to say, it is hard to do your job, day in and day out in combat. The constant stress of knowing something is going to pop out and eat you is eating some people alive. The blood, the fear, the terror.” He shook his head as suddenly Jen got it and looked at him in concern. “A lot of us are having nightmares. We're going to have issues with this. You burn a lot of calories in combat, the constant stress...”

  “Isn't good for mind or body,” Jerry said with a nod.

  “Right. So what I want to do is give combat people a little more incentive for doing what they do, and a bit extra to get them to take some down time without forcing them to do so.”

  “Oh.”

  Gabe nodded. “Its also an incentive to get people to do the job,” he said. He knew he wouldn't do it. No way no how.

  “That too,” Shane said. “Not that an extra meal a day is worth watching a friend being eaten alive, or losing an arm or leg.”

  “Or a life,” Jayne said.

  “Exactly. But that's the cost we're paying right now.”

  “Okay,” Jen said quietly, reaching around Jayne to rest her hand on his. He squeezed it gently for a moment.

  “But that's only part of the equation. What I also want to implement is a reward system. Give each department a kitty that they can draw onto reward people who go the extra mile, or who just need time off.”

  “Okay,” Bob said nodding. “I see that's a good idea.”

  “We don't have a lot to play with,” Jayne said, sounding worried.

  “Some of the food chits can be exchanged for say clothes or services. People who have excess will be willing to trade.”

  “Spread the wealth. And make people envious of it,” Jerry said.

  “It will also make people interested in figuring out ways to get it themselves. Either by doing the job or creating a service or product...”

  “Or falling back on the oldest profession,” Jayne said suddenly eyes dark.

  “Its been known to happen,” Bill said. “Hell, we've got a few active um...” He looked at each of the women and blushed.

  “Yeah, I think I heard something along those lines. Its a way for people to blow off steam. I know,” Shane shrugged. “We can't control it so the best we can do is hand out condoms and stuff and try not to be too prudish.”

  “People need to blow off steam somehow,” Bill agreed with a shrug.

  “Find another way,” Tamara said bitingly.

  “Fight or sex. Those are the best. For people who are wound too tight sex is their best option. It both releases stress and it releases chemicals in the brain to relax the body.”

  “And besides, its a work out,” Bill said with a grin.

  “Says you, guys get it up for five minutes.”

  “Thirty-seconds you mean. What do they do with the other four and a half minutes?” Tamara suddenly asked with a smirk to her husband. He blinked and then scowled at her.

  “That long huh?” he grunted. Tamara flicked an eyebrow at him. “That a challenge?”

  “If it is, what of it?”

  “Name the time and place lady... or I will.”

  “Kind of hard to find a place here...” she said backpedaling.

  “Not the only thing that gets hard. God,” Jayne said, hand going to her mouth. “I can't believe I just said that,” she said sitting back with a giggle.

  “I think I can find a truck cab, or a porta-potty around,” Bob said, still locked i
n his wife's gaze.

  “A porta-potty?” Jen stage whispered to Shane.

  “Don't knock it until you've tried it,” Bob said aside, still locked in a test of wills with his wife.

  “Been there, done that,” was all Tamara said. Then she blushed a wine red.

  “What!” Jen said in stunned disbelief. Jayne snorted and then started giggling again. Finally something in Tamara softened and she blushed a little more and looked away.

  “We'll find the time dear,” she said, hand going under the table to rest on her husband's thigh.

  “We'll make time,” he growled in her ear and then kissed her on the cheek.

  “We're going to need a whole lot of rubbers and contraceptives...” Jerry muttered. Tamara looked at him, blushing furiously. “Sorry, I mean for well, I mean to prevent...”

  “I think we caught the drift there Jerry,” Jayne said dryly.

  “Can we get back to um...?”

  Shane blinked, looked at Jen who was giggling and then nodded. “Economics? Yeah. Good idea. So I was thinking....”

  Chapter 27

  Shane talked to a general over the Ham radio network. He was surprised that Gabe had gotten through to anyone at all. Apparently FEMA was starting to get organized and was filling in the massive holes in their chain of command with people from the military. The brigadier General asked about what they'd like to have. “Give me a list. Break it down into must, like and wish,” he said, sounding tired and bored.

  Shane thought for a moment and nodded. He wasn't sure why a general was making this call; you'd think a lower ranking officer or even an enlisted would. But he wasn't going to complain. He'd take what he could get. “I'd like the additive for napalm and as much plastic explosives as you can ship to us.”

  “That?” the general asked in disbelief.

  “As much as you can get me. The aliens hate fire General. We're using it more and more to clear out areas. Straight gas is effective, but napalm is better.”