by Terry Yates
The group turned to see Lauren O’Hearley, still lying on her back, but her head turned almost completely around, looking at the dog, a weak smile on her face, her bushy, auburn hair covering half her face, which was still tinged with some yellow, making her already white teeth look extremely brighter.
The whole room hushed as they looked at the smiling eleven year old who had only the day before been so close to death. It was as if time had stood still…but not for long, for Locklear and Ariella rushed to her side and began to hug and kiss and cry and let out every single emotion neither of them had probably let loose in awhile, if ever. Even Potts turned around at the sound of her voice.
“Well, I’ll be dipped in gorilla shit,” he muttered softly as the rest of the group rushed to Lauren’s side.
Kyler stood watching as Gringo, Samantha, Burt, FranAnne, and Jason joined the O’Hearley’s reunion.
“Great to have you back, Kiddo,” Gringo told the girl as he held Samantha’s hand.
“Thank you,” she answered, still groggy.
Kyler half expected Lauren to tell them about the tornado, the yellow brick road, the wicked witch of the west, and that they were all there in Oz. Seeing the crowd gathered around Lauren, Nurse Walling began to push her way through.
“Let me by, please,” she demanded as she moved through the throng of well- wishers. “Give the girl some air. Come on, people, move it!”
Kyler felt a hand on his arm. He looked down to see Zora smiling up at him.
“It looks like you did it, Doctor,” she said smiling that smile that drove him crazy.
“Oh…I…uh…really didn’t do…uh…anything,” he stammered back, trying to escape her gaze, but not having much luck.
“Nonsense,” she told him, her smile disappearing, and her expression suddenly serious. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling good about your work. No one does their job to fail. You do it to succeed and you’ve succeeded. Be happy with that.”
At that moment, Kyler wanted to take her, throw her onto a table and spend the rest of his life with her on said table. She smiled up at him as if she could read his every thought. He sure hoped she couldn’t or he would probably be in for a good beating.
“Thank you,” was all he could say.
She continued to smile at him and he at her till she suddenly looked away, pointed, then laughed. On Lauren’s table sat Joe licking her face, her head moving back and forth, smiling as she tried to escape the lightning fast tongue. Locklear and Ariella were laughing hard, but not so Nurse Walling.
“Scat! Get away!” she ordered the dog, but to no avail. “There’ll be no dogs on my watch! Move! Scat!”
Joe tried his hand at licking Nurse Walling, but she kept pushing his face away. Joe was stout and strong and she was also having to fight to keep his tongue at bay.
“Go away!” she yelled. “Leave!”
Kyler looked down at Zora again, but this time her eyes were elsewhere. She was looking at the stranger who was still sitting on the edge of the table, but instead of trying to enjoy Joe’s escapades, his eyes were cast down at the floor.
“It must be awful not knowing who you are or where you came from,” Zora said, still looking at the man.
Kyler didn’t really know what to say. He had found himself feeling a little jealous that her attention was no longer on him, but on the dark, handsome, muscular stranger. The Man With No Memory had taken the spotlight off of him, and he was feeling the Big Green Monster crawling up his colon, inching its way up into his stomach and looking for away to take complete control of him.
“Yeah,” was all that managed to escape his lips.
Kyler excused himself and walked over to Col. Potts who hadn’t moved from the doorway. Kyler had seen him turn and smile for a moment as Joe was trying to lick Nurse Walling, but just as quickly turned back around, and began to look out into the rain again. To Kyler, the man seemed almost pensive, very unusual for him, he guessed. He figured Kyler just ran on ordering and being ordered, no thoughts, no ideas, no bullshit, just go, go, go!
Kyler silently stood next to the Colonel, not really wanting to say anything. He doubted that Potts would’ve minded. This seemed to be quiet time for the man. He just stared out the doorway, his hands behind his back.
Kyler watched with him as the rain and the wind seemed to have picked up in the last hour or so, and the sky was getting dark again, even though they still had a few hours till nightfall. Nightfall. That was when werewolves turned from men back into werewolves. Jesus, let that thing have died last night. Let it have had the biggest chunk of silver from the richest silver mine in the world have pierced its whole body, sending it straight to Hell.
“Look at that, Doc,” Potts said, still looking out the window. Kyler was stunned. He hadn’t even been in Potts’ periphery. He had been standing slightly behind him and to his left. The colonel had never looked at him, but had known he was there. The more Kyler thought about it, the more he guessed that it probably hadn’t been a good idea to have sneaked up behind the man, guessing that Potts had probably killed a thousand men who had done exactly what he had just done.
“I’m sorry?” Kyler asked him.
“The wind and rain are picking up. This storm should’ve been over with last night, but there it is, as strong as it was this time yesterday. I wonder why that is?”
“I can tell you, Sir.”
Potts and Kyler turned around to see Sgt. Cohen, wet and breathless, water dripping off of his MP’s helmet. Kyler had almost forgotten about him. The man had been working nonstop trying to reach help and here they’d been, having fun with a dog.
“What was that, Sergeant?” Potts asked him, looking the man in the eye.
“The wind…and…the rain…Sir…” he panted. “The reason it’s just as bad out there as it was yesterday.
“Trick knee acting up on you, Sergeant, or have you taken to studying almanacs?” Potts asked, sarcastically.
“No, Sir…it’s just…”
The man started to move his hand to his chest, but stopped. Kyler moved to the man and put his arms around him, thinking maybe Sgt. Cohen was having a heart attack, but the grizzled veteran waved him off, then stood up straight, nodding at the doctor for his thoughtfulness.
“Take a breath, Sergeant and tell me why this storm isn’t going away,” Potts ordered the man.
Cohen nodded, put his hands on his hips, and took in as much air as his lungs would allow, then looked Potts dead in the eye.
“Because there’s another one coming, Sir.”
CHAPTER 26
“What in Sam’s sack are you talking about, Sergeant?” Potts lambasted the man, his voice rising to a high-pitched Drill sergeant tone. Another what?”
Sgt. Cohen had already said it three times, but it never seemed to get through to Potts.
“There’s another hurricane, Sir.”
“Another? How’d you hear about it?” Potts asked, rubbing his temples.
“I couldn’t get hold of anyone on the radio, but a couple of times I overheard other transmissions, and I heard Miami telling someone, somewhere, that they couldn’t send any helicopters right now, because there was another hurricane headed this way, but this one’s coming from the northeast instead of the west.”
“When’s it due?” Kyler asked.
“I’m not sure, Doc. I was only catching bits and pieces of the conversation, but I definitely heard that there was one headed toward Miami, and it’s going to be bigger than yesterday’s.”
“Christ on a crutch. That’s all we need,” Potts said.
By this time, the soldiers, Gringo, Samantha, Locklear, Burt, Zora, and Sam Fong had gathered around the trio. Even Wilbur Munn had left Opal’s side to see what was happening. Zack pulled his still addled father with him to the group. Kyler had noticed that he didn’t seem to be so angry with the man right then as he had for most of the day. Maybe he had come to realize that his father was human and did probably the only thing he could’ve
done.
The stranger, who’d also been given a pair of fatigues, joined them, but stayed to the outside of the group. He didn’t understand it, but he still felt cautious about them and even more about the dog, who had continued its low growling every time it got anywhere near him or the old woman. Michael Blum still sat on his table trying to hear what was going on while Ariella was sitting with Lauren who was trying to sit up, but was being held down by her mother.
“Did you say that another storm is coming?” Gringo asked nervously.
“No, Mr. Boots,” Potts interjected, “he said that a big fuckin’ hurricane is headed toward Miami and we’re smack dab in the middle of its path.”
“We should be all right here though, shouldn’t we? I mean the army base pretty much made it through the last one, didn’t it?” Samantha asked, looking for some sort of reassurance from Potts.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got nice tits, Sweetie, ‘cause your heads emptier than former Corporal Munn’s nut sack,” Potts told her.
Kyler noticed Wilbur Munn look away in shame.
“Hey!” Gringo stepped up toward Potts, but Kyler and Sam had seen it coming and got between them. “That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about, General…Colonel…Captain…I don’t give a shit what your are! You watch your mouth!”
“Or what?” Potts shot back. “What are you gonna do, gorilla me to death?”
“Come on, Gentlemen, settle down!” Sam Fong told them. He and Kyler were having trouble keeping Gringo from Potts, and the fact that Potts acted like he wanted Gringo to come at him, wasn’t helping either. Kyler thought of the two going at it. Gringo verses Potts. That would be a fight he wouldn’t want to get in the middle of, even though he was technically already in the middle of it.
Kyler looked back to see that Potts was smiling. As much as the man seemed to hate disorder, he sure was enjoying the chaos. Sgt. Cohen put his arm on Potts’ shoulder, which Kyler thought wasn’t a particularly good idea, and began to pull him backwards, away from the fray. Sam, Kyler, Hawkins, and FranAnne managed to push Gringo backwards, which was not a task easily undertaken. His low center of gravity was wreaking havoc with them. The taller men were almost on their toes trying to hold him back. Only FranAnne had a lower center of gravity, which she was using the same way that Gringo was, pushing a larger object upwards, then backwards. Finally, Zack Olsen and Pvt. Gibson joined in and pushed Gringo all the way back to the tables where he almost crashed into Michael Blum.
Joe seemed to be barking at both men to stop, not knowing which one to attack since they’d both petted him and showed him kindness. Just when it looked like Gringo was getting his second wind and was about to push the whole group back the other direction, The stranger, Zora, and even Samantha jumped in and finally pinned him up against the table, Michael Blum having scooted back from the melee.
“All right! God dammit! All right! I’m done with it!” Gringo yelled. He was completely spent and exhausted and gasping hard for breath. Samantha stood in front of him and put her hands to his cheeks.
“It’s okay, Baby,” she said gently, kissing his face. He had stood up for her. She had only seen him do that once before when she was on a shoot and the photographer constantly berated her by calling her stupid, gawky, or giraffe like, and Gringo had taken him to his knees by his nose. Before he was done with the bastard, Gringo had made him not only apologize on his knees, but he also made him beg her forgiveness. That had cost her a few jobs, but she really didn’t care. Him coming to her rescue like that had meant more to her than any modeling job…for the moment. Invariably, he would find ways to completely undo everything by gambling her money away or by agreeing that she would pose nude for some shyster. But right now she loved him.
Gringo and Potts stared at each other from across the canteen for a moment before Samantha pulled him away to another part of the room, while Potts continued to glare until Sgt. Cohen stepped in front of him and blocked his view.
“Colonel…Sir…don’t you think we…you…should decide what we’re going to do about our situation?” he asked, following Potts’ eyes, trying to stay between the man’s eyes and Gringo. “We’d better decide if we’re staying or going.”
Potts followed Gringo for a few more seconds before turning his attention to the sergeant. To Cohen, it looked like the momentary madness was gone, Potts’ eyes had returned to normal…steely, beady, and mean.
“Well, Sergeant,” he started, “let’s see what our choices are. It’s almost dark and we’re going to have a hurricane hit us…again, and we have no idea when it’s going to be here. It could be minutes…it could be hours. We know that it’s going to be bigger than the last one and coming from our side of the island, so the hills aren’t going to help keep it off of us.”
“They’ll help a little, Colonel…” Sgt. Cohen tried to interject, but Potts held his hand up for silence.
“I’m not through, Sergeant.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“As I was saying…the hills aren’t going to be of much use to us and it’s going to be dark very soon, and we don’t know if that thing is still alive…and if it is alive, we can’t be out in the open where it can pick us all off one at a time, so we’re in a dilemma. Stay and try to ride out the hurricane or move to the other side of the hills where we’ll still be out in the hurricane or out in the open where our friend might attack us.”
“Do you think it’s still alive, Sir?” Cohen asked.
Potts rubbed his chin for a moment. “Sgt. Cohen, you’ve been around as long as I have and there’s one thing that we both know, and that’s that you never underestimate the enemy. Just because you think they’re dead or should be dead, doesn’t mean that they are dead. It happened to us in the Gulf War. We cannoned and missiled the shit outta them till there wasn’t one of Saddam’s men left standing. Not one. We waited and waited. We didn’t have air support…we didn’t think we’d need it. We did need it, because just when we’d thought we’d waited long enough, we began to move forward. Saddam’s bunch were all dead on the side of a dune, limbs, heads, and torsos, scattered all over the place. No one left. So, we decided to move on over the dune and down into the valley. Guess what happened next, Sergeant.”
Cohen shook his head. He’d heard most war stories, but not this one.
“Well, as soon as we were almost down the first dune, we heard shots ring out from above. We looked up and there they were. Saddam’s men. They’d waited us out. They let us get overconfident and just when we thought the area was secure, they started blasting the shit out of us.”
“How’d you get out of it, Sir?”
“We had better weapons, so we just shot our way uphill and killed every sumbitch standing. My point is that we thought they were either dead or gone. They waited us out…let us think that we had won the day, then attacked when we least expected it. That’s exactly what that thing might be expecting us to do. Forget about it. Think that it’s dead. Relax…and then…” Potts clenched his fist as if he’d just caught a fly. “Get it?”
Sgt. Cohen nodded. “That is a tough one, Colonel.”
“So,” Potts put his hands in his pockets, “one way…we’re out in the open…possibly in the middle of a hurricane with a wolfman running loose, and the other…we have SOME shelter from both, albeit not very good shelter. Either way, we could be screwed in the turd cutter. So, you see, Sergeant, there really isn’t any great decision to be made. We stay…try to re-enforce the base from both the weather and the wolf. See how easy these things can be?”
The sergeant removed his helmet. His gray hair was matted down from both rain and sweat.
“You know, Sir, there is one more place that would be…”
Before he could finish, Potts shot him a look that told him not to say another word.
“We can’t do that, Sergeant. We’ll stay here for now.”
Sgt. Cohen nodded his head and walked away leaving Potts staring out of the doorway again. He saw that the doctor was st
ill with Gringo, who was pacing back and forth like a lion in a cage. The rage that had given him the strength of five men was gone now. He was more blowing off steam than anything. Walking it off, Cohen called it.
He came up behind Kyler and put a hand on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Doc?”
“Sure.”
Kyler took one last look at Gringo who seemed to be calm now. Samantha’s high squeaky voice had somehow calmed him. He figured Gringo wasn’t the kind of man who liked to have people see him lose his cool. He didn’t mind people knowing that he was from the streets, but he didn’t like showing them. In his line of work, he always wanted to appear calm and classy, even though most people who’d known him for more than a day, could see right through him, his rough edges always on the fringe.
The two men stepped away from Gringo and Samantha, Cohen gently pulling him by the elbow.
“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” Kyler asked, a little confused by Cohen’s secrecy.
“I need to show you something, Doctor.”
“Okay.”
The sergeant looked around for a moment, taking special precaution to make sure that no one could overhear.
“I found something,” he said softly to Kyler.
“Oh yeah? What?”
Sgt. Cohen moved around to Kyler’s side, making sure his back was turned to the majority of the group. Kyler watched with great interest as Cohen removed something from his breast pocket. After he’d removed it, he closed his fist over it so that no one could see what he was holding. Kyler could not imagine what could be so secretive. Sgt. Cohen moved even closer to the doctor, then put his fist against his stomach.
“I found something today in that field where the soldiers were killed.”
“Really?” Kyler asked, not giving away that he had watched the man pick whatever it was up off the ground. “What is it?”
Sgt. Cohen took one last cautious look around, then opened his fist, palm up. Lying in his palm was a dog tag. The name on it read…Dixon.