Chapter 1 Chaos
Hobbs shift was almost over for the day. There were just a few more minutes before he could clock out for the day. The minutes seemed agonizingly slow. It was as if time was slowing down just for him taunting him. Hobbs stared at the work apron that was balled up in his hands. He patted the apron several times impatiently as if doing so would speed up time itself. When the clock read 3:52 PM he stood up out of his chair and walked over to the clock. He tapped his fingers on top of the grey punch clock. He had a long day and did not like dealing with customers. Hell he didn’t like dealing with people in general.
Hobbs hated his job. It was the same mundane tasks. Make sure to stock items on the shelf and make sure to help out the customers. Customers were the worst part of his job. They were so demanding. If an item was not in stock they would take it out on him. It was as if it was his job to make sure the item was in stock because he was supposed to know this customer would come at this very moment looking for it. Then there were those customers who just wanted to talk. They would talk about life, their new job, a new dog that they just bought for their kids or spouse. Then you always had those college students that would come in and ask for items to make a funnel and tube for a keg. They were always trying to hide and lie about what they were making as if it was a big secret that no one else knew about.
Walking to the car he put his hands and fumbled around for his keys. When he felt the cold ring that held the keys he pulled them out. From muscle memory he located the plastic oval shaped black box and pressed the unlock button. It took several attempts before the door would unlock. He has been meaning to change out the battery but never got around to doing it which just aggravated him even more. He opened the car door and pulled out his phone and put it in the middle console in the drink holsters. He got in and pulled the seat belt over his shoulder and clicked it into place. He put the key into the ignition ready to start the car when his phone rang. Irritated he looked down at the phone and picked it up. He looked at the flashing number. He touched the decline button. It was his damn stalkers. If he had the money he would pay his creditors but since he lost his job and working for a meager wage he just couldn’t get enough money together to pay them. He turned the key and headed on out.
When he lost his job at the accounting firm five months ago he tried to live off of his savings and the meager unemployment check that he received. He got a hand shake and was handed a paper check. He knew at this moment something was terribly wrong. The man was carrying a cardboard box with one hand and plopped it on Hobbs’ desk. He got a pat on the back and a nice knowing you. “The firm is closing down,” fell off the man’s lips heavy and slow. Hobbs world crumpled down on itself. It was as if someone was taking a thin piece of paper and smashing it down pushing and cramming making it as small as possible.
On the way home the phone rang again. Now he was irritated more than anything. He picked up the phone. This time it was a different number. The name flashed across the screen SFC Carl. It probably was another call reminding him of drill that was coming up at the end of the month. It was like clockwork. Every second Tuesday of the month Carl would call ask how he was doing and remind him that drill was coming up. Then in turn he would call his soldiers and relay the message. He did not want to deal with anyone so he pressed the decline button again. Hobbs realized that his hands were beginning to cramp. He was clenching the steering wheel so tight it might break it. He released his iron grip and took in a deep breath.
When he got home he opened the door. There was nothing there to greet him. No wife, girlfriend or even a dog. The only inviting thought was he was able to sit by himself and do whatever the hell he wanted too. This mainly consisted of watching sitcoms or other shows that he was able to get through the antenna. He could not afford cable or even dish. The dish networks would lie about the amount of money their service costs. $19.99 the commercials would say. Yeah that is the base price but when you end up paying for the receiver, the box, all the taxes and fees that went with it, it would cost the same as cable if not more.
He got in the shower and tried to let the depression and unsatisfactory life he was now living wash away with the water down the drain but it would never leave him. His small apartment and constantly empty fridge and cupboards were a constant reminder that he lost his job and his former life faded away.
When he sat down on the couched, it was as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders pushing him down causing the couch to bow inward. He turned on the television. He had the antenna positioned in the perfect spot. The television picture would flip in and out depending on the weather. Digital signals did give a better picture but when it went out there was no picture. The television would just freeze the image until it was able to receive a better signal and then continue on. This annoyed him but unlike the other factors in his life he learned to deal with it and try to be as patient as possible which was not much.
Then the phone rang again. Again it was Carl. This time he answered the phone and in disgust he said “This is sergeant Hobbs,” not trying to hide the fact this second call irritated him. The voice over the phone was muffled and there was static. “Hobbs… get… armory” was all that he could make out. Damn phone thought Hobbs. He regretted ever buying the phone. The guy at the store had talked him into buying what was supposed to be the latest and greatest. The salesman went through all the features and what could be done with it. However, Hobbs quickly realized what a piece of shit it was. The phone calls were always muffled and the phone never got good signal no matter where he was so when he did get a call he could never hear the other person on the line. Hobbs fingers curled applying pressure on the phone to the point his knuckles turned white. At that moment he was not sure if he was more irritated with the phone or the fact that he had to head to the armory.
Hobbs got in the car turned the ignition and sped off to the armory. On the way, Hobbs cursed to himself constantly using every foul word he possibly could think of. He was cursing as if someone was in the car with him. He turned on the radio and pressed the number 3 that was preset to 103.1 that played everything from old rock and roll to death metal. Just when his favorite band came on the radio that horrible tone broke in indicating there was an emergency broadcast test. He raised his hands and pounded down on the steering wheel in disgust. He waited for the routine message, “this is just a test,” but it never came. Instead he was hit with an actual emergency message. Frustrated already from the long day and his “me” time being interrupted he turned off the radio and drove in silence until he reached the armory.
The barriers to the armory were supposed to be yellow but they were bleached from the sun and peeled in several areas. The armory looked aged on the outside. There were big cracks in the mortar that ran three to four feet long and littered the walls. Some of the cracks were so big anyone could put their hands right into them. The big engineer castle sat on the outside in a rock bed. The rocks were painted white and red and were arranged in such a way mimicking the engineer flag. There were two soldiers sitting on the barriers at the entrance standing guard. They were talking amongst themselves but stopped Hobbs as he tried to enter with his car.
Hobbs rolled down his window and the soldier on the left waved him on. The parking lot was already half full. Hobbs always had a pair of his army combat uniform in the car along with a pair of his physical training uniform just for occasions such as this. He took the army combat uniform with him and headed towards the door. The door had a keypad and each soldier was given the code to get in just in case there was no one at the door or even in the armory. Along with the keypad there was a voice box for visitors to gain entry into the building if someone was there. However, there were few visitors that actually visited
the armory. Most of the time it was someone from the battalion conducting their inspections. Hobbs entered in the code and pushed open the door with his free hand. To his surprise the drill hall floor, which was where classes and formations took place, was completely empty. So he concluded that the rest of the soldiers were in the back of the building at the connex which held all of their equipment.
Hobbs changed into his uniform. At first when he went through basic training and advanced individual training he was always excited to put on his uniform. It gave him a sense of pride because he was able to accomplish something that most people would not even try. He always loathed those who would stop him and try to talk to him about the time they almost joined. He would grit his teeth and be polite if he was in uniform. For those times he wasn’t in uniform he would tell them what a piece of shit they are. He had more respect for those that did not pretend they were going to join or even those who never even gave a thought about joining. At least they were being truthful about it. Hobbs understood the military was not for everyone and was ok with that. As time drew on that proud feeling drained and it felt like a chore. Monthly he would put it on and head to the armory and face the activities of the day. Most of the times it was mandatory classes and if it was not classes then they were going out to the field. The field was miserable, being out in the cold, the rain or the blistering heat. This built comradery however and a bond that could not be broken between soldiers. It was the fact that they shared every miserable moment together which created that bond.
After changing, Hobbs headed out the big role up door towards the back of the building. There was a long building like storage buildings with three brown metal doors that clang when they were opened. Each storage room was assigned to each platoon in the company. Inside the storage building the rooms were separated by a thick chain link fence. Their gear was in big black boxes that were stacked up on each other. Stacked three high always and were lined up against the metal fence. On the other side there were field tables that folded up and several green boxes that held all the field equipment they would need for the field. In the center there were green metal shelves that had miscellaneous items that did not belong in any category or area. There were old rolled up wires, an old radio console and three seats that belonged to an old Humvee that was traded in. The specialist was told to take everything out of the old Humvee. He took out everything he could including those items that were bolted down. The only thing that was left was the driver’s seat, the passenger seat and the steering wheel. The soldier was going to take out the passenger seat but it covered the Humvee battery.
Hobbs walked down the grassy field to the connex that belonged to his platoon. Clark greeted him with a smile and a hand shake. Clark’s hand shake was always strong and overly exaggerated as if he was over compensating or had something to prove. “Hobbs I am glad that you made it.” “What’s going on?” “Well we are going to Rosewood,” as the man’s voice trailed off he was irritated about the extra mission he did not sign up for. Soldiers learned early on it didn’t matter what they signed up for, the army owned them and told them what they would do, where, and when. If the army said take a shit he was expected to take a shit.
“We are expected to support the local law enforcement. There has been rioting and strange attacks and reports of people eating others.” Hobbs eyebrows shot up in bewilderment. His face blank, his mouth opened as if to say something but nothing came out. It was as if Hobbs’ brain was disconnected from his mouth struggling to make the connection. Then overcoming the shock of the news Hobbs spoke. “Eating people? Like that case down in Miami?” “Yeah something like that,” came the response from Clark. The Miami incident was all over the news. A man on some cocktail they were calling bath salts and out of nowhere attacked a homeless man eating and swallowing the flesh from the victim’s face. A police officer made it to the scene and proceeded to shoot the man over and over again. The attacker just looked up with a bloody mouth and growled then continued to dine upon the flesh. It took one shot to the head before the attacker went limp. There was a cry out from the zombie fans that the zombie apocalypse had begun. Hobbs shivered at the idea. His thoughts running through his head with no purpose or direction as images came and went quickly.
Clark spoke and Hobbs mind stopped racing and focused on the words that came out. Hobbs could hear the words but his brain had trouble translated the noise into something tangible that he could understand. He focused harder straining to understand. Hobbs waited until he noticed Clark’s mouth stopped moving. “Sorry say that again I didn’t catch it.” Clark irritated that he had to repeat what he just said gave a pause before he spoke again. He spoke deliberately this time pronunciating each word to make sure they were clear and heard this time. “I said we are going to cordon the area. Another company is already there setting up fences and closing down the roads. They think it is some sort of fungus, bacteria or virus that is causing the infected to attack others. Our job is containment.” Hobbs mulled over the information as if trying to decide his thoughts about the mission.
Clark continued on, “Make sure all of you have everything do your PCI and PCCs. If you need anything make sure you go to supply and get it.” The military created their own language shortening each phrase into small acronyms. PCI soldiers learned meant do your pre combat inspections which then was followed by the pre combat checks. Just because you had something didn’t mean it worked. A soldier did not want to be caught out on a mission and their gear fail.
A private had run up to the connex. The kid was young too young Hobbs thought. The kid had freckles that speckled his face and it seemed hard to figure out where one ended and the other began. He had the urge to take a pencil and connect the dots. Freckles blurted out loud. “Sergeant first class Clark.” Clark just turned around and freckles was standing right there gleaming with excitement. “Yeah private” he said with distain. “The Commander wants everyone to go to the drill hall floor for a safety briefing.” “Alright we will be there” grunted Clark. Clark turned around to his men, “Ok you fuck sticks you heard the man get moving.”
Safety briefings were always daunting tasks according to Hobbs. Early on in his career he would pay attention to every word and write down everything to make sure he did not miss anything. These days the words fell on deaf ears. Hobbs would let his mind wander. Although, he wanted to think happy thoughts and those great memories of when he had a lavish lifestyle. Those thoughts seemed to evade him at every crevice of his mind and were replaced with the ruins of his life. His faced grimaced, his lips curled downward in disgust. His eyes narrowed fixating on the uniform of the soldier that stood in front of him. He let his thoughts go off and now focused on the different patterns trying to see if he could make out shapes of the tiny boxes of the digital uniform.
When the safety briefing was over with the soldiers walked out of the armory and went to the connex. Hobbs just stood there and stared at his black box and the equipment that was laid out around it. He picked up the black ceramic plates. He read the white lettering on it, 7.65 point blank. It indicated that at point blank range a bullet that was a 7.65 caliber would not be able to penetrate the plate. When he saw the letterings it reminded of his time overseas.
“You ok?” said Clarke, as he placed his hands on Hobbs’ shoulder. Startled by the unwelcomed and unsolicited touch of another Hobbs dropped the ceramic plate and turned. Clarke’s eyes were ridden with crevices and lines that aged the man past his years. The skin sagged and there were a few age spots near his ears and his forehead. The stress from combat and military life was hard and unrelenting. Hobbs wanted to say that he was tired of life and hated what happened to him but decided against it. “No I am fine.” This was the biggest lie that he ever told. When someone greets you and asks how you are and they responded with I am fine. What that person really wanted to tell you was they were not fine. They wanted to cry out in desperation for help but is always quickly silenced because of their pride.
&n
bsp; At 2015 hours the Humvees were already loaded up and ready to go. Their destination Rosewood. It brought back the memory of him coming home. He just got back from deployment and rented a car to make it back home. Unlike others, his family never showed up for his departure to Iraq and was not there when he returned home. Others were rewarded with loved ones hugging, kissing and embracing their hero’s return. He didn’t mind it that much because he did not really fit in with this family. He was shunned for joining the service all those years ago which felt like a lifetime ago. He never regretted the decision to join but he always wondered what made him stay in. Year after year he would tell himself this is the year that I get out. I am done with all of this. Yet somehow he always found himself signing on the dotted line and raising his right hand to take the oath again and repeating the words spoken to him.
The night was quiet, cool and comforting except for the roar of the Humvees as they went down the bumpy unmaintained road. The road paint was fading and in some areas nonexistent which caused separation of the two lanes hard to determine. The road was filled with holes and bumps that could be felt as they drove on. Silence was broken by Bellman who was navigating the behemoth of a vehicle. “Hey sergeant Hobbs what do you think is going on?” “Hell I know just as much as you do now keep your eyes on the road.” “What if it is some type of virus you know?” Bellman was always a talker and a people person. It was a surprise to Hobbs that Bellman stayed quiet as long as he did. The man was young and not riddled with the weight of deployment and the abuse that came with being in a combat arms profession. He was fresh out of basic training and advanced individual training. This made everything to him new and exciting. Like a kid at Christmas waiting desperately to open their gifts and shook each gift to get an idea of what prize was inside. The world brought disappointments and the military was no exception. Hobbs remembered what his father used to say, “Hobbs if you don’t expect anything then you will not be disappointed.” This was always the best advice he could give any new recruit which quickly took away their dreams and thoughts of glorified war that Hollywood showed.
Alpha of the Omega Page 1