“What, I didn’t say anything,” Ted said, moving to the next house quickly.
As night fell and Bruce walked out of the tenth house, he grabbed his radio. “Omega, load up. We’re moving to another street.”
“Why? There’s still houses we can clear.” Ted asked heading to the convoy.
“Too many trees,” Bruce said waving his hand around. “We’ll move to an area and bed down till morning.”
“Aren’t you curious to see if they will move at night?” Ted asked, stopping at his rig.
“Nope, already found out something new for today,” Bruce said, continuing down the line of RGs to his rig. “The next new thing I learn, the odds are it will suck.”
“Section two, first platoon on me!” Gene shouted over the radio and Bruce dove to the ground coming up on one knee and scanning around for targets.
Not seeing any, he reached for his radio as he heard Gene bellow, “Stack up on me!” followed by the sound of a door being kicked open. Suppressed gunfire filled the twilight as Bruce climbed up on the roof of his rig.
Seeing Willie in the cupola of his and Gene’s RG behind Ma Deuce, Bruce jumped over to Willie’s rig to find him chuckling as gunfire continued to ring out from the house Gene had led his team into. “What’s so funny?” Bruce asked, looking at the house.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Willie chuckled, pulling out his phone.
“Try me,” Bruce said as Willie continued to laugh, unlocking his phone and started flipping through pictures.
Holding the phone out, “Here,” Willie said. “What’s that look like to you?”
Taking the phone and looking at the screen, Bruce moved the phone out to arm’s length. “Is that a blue butt pressed against a window?” he asked, glancing at the house Gene was in and seeing it was the same one in the picture.
“Yes,” Willie chuckled hitting the RG’s roof. “I told Gene one of the blues was mooning him and he took off cussing.”
The gunfire stopped in the house as Bruce handed the phone back. “Send me a copy of that,” he said, grinning as Gene walked out. Suddenly, Gene turned around and dumped a full magazine into to the house as the rest of his group mounted up.
Gene spun around changing magazines, “Willie, dump your box of ammo into that fucking house!” Gene shouted, climbing up on the RG.
Grabbing the handles, Willie pressed the butterfly trigger on the fifty, filling the area with flashes of light and thunder. Gene’s little 5.56 didn’t do much to the house, but the big fifty-caliber round sure did.
When the gun ran dry, the awning over the front porch fell down with a crash as the house started letting out groans and it slowly leaned to the right. Gene looked over at Bruce with a very pissed off face. “Say something, I dare ya,” he growled.
“Hey, a fucking blue, mooned me? I would’ve called in an airstrike on the place,” Bruce snorted.
“I am,” Gene growled, dropping into the back. “When we’re clear, that house is toast,” he said as the house gave a loud groan.
Looking up, they watched the first floor fold in and the second floor slide to the right crashing to the ground. “Yeah, that’s real unprofessional. Mooning fuckers trying to kill you,” Bruce chuckled, jumping back over to his RG.
Chapter 17
Feeling pain everywhere, Bruce cracked his eyes open to see the others asleep around him in the back of the RG. Very slowly and using his arms, Bruce struggled to stand up. “Fuck me, getting old sucks ass,” he groaned as his body agreed with him with hundreds of sharp pains.
Buffy leaned over from the roof, looking down at him. “Morning, Daddy,” she smiled.
“Glad you didn’t say ‘good’,” he said, looking up at her and sticking his head out the troop hatch.
“Getting old has nothing to do with it,” she said, looking around the large parking lot they had set up in. “When Danny woke me for guard, I felt like someone beat me with a bat.”
“Well, they used it on me while I slept,” Bruce said, climbing out on the roof not even using his left leg, holding it straight and fighting a cramp.
When he stretched out groaning, Buffy looked up at him with a serious face. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said in a soft voice.
Continuing his stretch, Bruce looked down at her. “Buffy, you think you’re ten feet tall and bulletproof but I hate to tell you, you’re not. You still have a ways to go in hand-to-hand to play like that.”
“I know, Danny said that like a hundred times last night.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t beat the shit out of you,” Bruce said with a groan, ending his stretch.
Buffy looked down at her lap. “When we get home, Danny said she’s going to punch me.”
“That’s between you and her,” Bruce said, slowly sitting down beside her and patting his lap. Not the little girl she’d been when he’d found her, Buffy filled his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ve never seen Danny that mad.”
“I just want to be brave,” Buffy sniffled. “I’m scared when we go out,” she barely whispered.
“Buffy, I want you to find one person who isn’t,” he said rubbing her head. “I’ve told you I was scared.”
“Yeah, but you don’t act like it.”
“True, because if you act scared, you will make mistakes and fear spreads,” he said, slowly rocking her. “Fear is an emotion. You feel happy, you feel sad, the emotion can’t hurt you. But letting it control you, can get you hurt.”
“I’m trying,” she said, looking up with tears in her eyes.
“Buffy, you’re doing great,” Bruce laughed. “Remember, I gave Danny a spanking for almost the same thing when we first got home.”
“I remember,” Buffy said, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
“I’ve never spanked any of my kids twice for the same mistake, but Buffy?” he said, lifting her chin up to look into his face. “You ever pull another stunt like that, and it will be much worse. I don’t care if you’re thirty years old. We act crazy, but don’t take stupid risks like that.”
“I won’t,” she said, reaching up hugging his neck. “I promise.”
Squeezing her tight, Bruce pushed her back. “The chow wagon got in last night. Let’s go see what Cook has for breakfast.”
“Okay,” she said with her customary smile.
Standing up, Bruce’s left glute cramped up much worse, making him let out a groan grabbing his butt. “Shit,” he moaned, trying to stretch it out.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, watching him and knowing something hurt really bad.
“My ass locked up,” Bruce panted, trying to move his left leg. Not knowing what to do, Buffy just stood there as Bruce slowly moved around the roof, cussing about getting old.
Ten minutes later, they were down and walking toward the chow wagon; the first RV that Omega had gone out with. Limping and still holding his left ass cheek, Bruce had an expression that spoke of sheer violence.
Passing out plates, Cook looked out and seeing Bruce coming, motioned for the line to move away. “Here, Bruce,” he said, passing out two plates then cups of coffee.
Taking the plates, Bruce just growled as Buffy looked at Cook with a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he chuckled, seeing Bruce limp away like his left leg was made of stone.
As Bruce set his plate on the fender of his RG, Willie came up carrying a notebook. “Hey, boss,” he said, looking down and opening the notebook.
“What the fuck are you so cheerful about?” Bruce snapped, still rubbing his butt.
Closing the notebook, Willie slowly looked up. “Um, I’m not really,” he said carefully, hoping that was the correct answer for the mood Bruce was in.
“That’s good because today sucks ass!” Bruce shouted and Danny stuck her head out of the RG.
“What’s wrong?” she asked yawning and her hair going everywhere.
“Today sucks,” Bruce snapped and Danny just dropped down into the RG
as Jake sat up rubbing his face.
“What’s Dad yelling about?” he groaned, trying to stretch.
“Don’t know and I’m not going to find out,” Danny said, digging around for her gear.
Bending over at the waist and letting his arms hang just trying to get the knot to relax and not move any further down his leg, Bruce fought not to just start cussing everyone. “Bruce, why didn’t you stay in the command vehicle? I saw you in there at 0200.” Willie asked and Bruce straightened up.
“Oh, so while my troops are sleeping in the metal torture chambers, I sleep on a bed?” Bruce grumbled. “How about I just rip my dick off and shove it up my ass?”
“Well, if you do, call me. I want to watch that,” Willie said with a straight face.
Looking over at Buffy, Bruce motioned her over. “Go to the command vehicle. Tell the medic to give you some Flexeril for me,” Bruce told her, grimacing. With a grin, Buffy took off running.
“What the hell are you bitching about?” Gene shouted, walking over with his plate.
“Motherfucker, we will fight today,” Bruce shouted back.
“Fine with me,” Gene said, tossing his plate on the fender beside Bruce’s.
“Hold on,” Willie said, stepping between them. “As interesting as that would be to watch, let me brief you first.”
“Who gives a shit?” Bruce said, trying to walk. “I’m ready to pull out and just nuke the place.”
Grabbing his plate and nodding, “Got my vote,” Gene said. “Damn blue hippies around here.”
Ted and Carl stopped, seeing Willie standing between Gene and Bruce as Bruce continued cussing. “I say we find one of the new guys that came in last night, take them over and beat the shit out of them in front of Bruce, telling Bruce they were the reason today sucks,” Ted said with a serious face. “That way, he’s not mad at us and sees we are trying to help.”
Carl turned, looking at all the troops around them. “Which one you want to grab?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as Willie opened his notebook.
Clearing his throat, “As you know, blues did move last night, but overhead drones only spotted like a thousand or so,” Willie said looking up and saw Bruce still rubbing his ass and Gene gave a curt nod. “Those that moved, only moved from one building to another, none left the area that we saw.”
“It’s their damn fault,” Bruce grunted, feeling the knot get tighter and move down to his calf. “Fucking kill everything.”
“Bruce, you realize if this is the blues new way of dealing with threats, this war will last decades going house to house,” Willie said.
“I’ll burn every fucking house down,” Bruce snapped as Buffy came running back.
“Daddy, the medic said he had to see you before giving out medications,” Buffy said out of breath. “He said that was his orders.”
“I’ll fucking start the day off by killing him,” Bruce shouted, reaching down but not feeling his pistol. Then he realized his gear and weapons were still in the RG, he’d never put them on, and he never did that. Limping over to Willie, Bruce grabbed his pistol.
Seeing their chance, Ted and Carl ran over. “Hold on, Bruce, we’ll kill him for you,” Carl said and Ted nodded.
“Good men,” Bruce said, handing Willie his pistol back. Ted and Carl took off running and Buffy followed, giggling.
Inside the RG, Jake looked at Mary, “Go stop them because the look on their faces was serious. I don’t think they would kill the medic, but they damn sure would beat the shit out of him.”
As Mary ran out the back, Bruce leaned back against the RG panting. “Boss, you don’t look so good,” Willie said, watching Bruce pant as beads of sweat broke out on his face.
“My ass hurts!” Bruce shouted.
Grabbing the radio inside the RG, Jake shook his head. “Only my father,” he mumbled and started calling for Daddy Mike.
“I didn’t do it,” Willie said stepping back.
“What else?” Bruce said, closing his eyes.
“Mike will be done tomorrow night around midnight. The snipers you asked him to put out got several hundred kills,” Willie said looking up, hoping that cheered Bruce up.
“We killed more than that in the houses we raided!”
“Yeah,” Willie said, looking back down at his notebook. “The walls are up at the first outpost and construction has started inside. Paul said people could start moving in the first of April.”
Leaning over again, Bruce tried to relax as the cramp moved into his calf hard, creeping into his foot. “Who gives a shit! My leg is cramped from my ass to my ankle!”
Realizing his briefing wasn’t going anywhere, Willie closed his notebook. “So, are we hitting more houses today?”
“We kill everything!” Bruce said, feeling his eyes getting moist. “I’ve broken bones, been shot, had a stick blown in my arm, and nothing hurt this fucking bad.”
Looking for help, Willie turned to Gene who just shrugged. “I don’t give a shit, these fuckers mooned my ass.”
Lifting up with a grimace, Bruce glanced over at Gene. “Just how many were in that room where that one was holding his ass to the window?”
“Only one,” Gene growled, “the one with his ass to the window.”
“These communist bitches,” Bruce said, bending over to stretch again.
A line of RGs pulled up and Mike stepped out of the lead one, as Ted and Carl pulled a man out of the command vehicle with Mary yelling at them. Buffy ran around them and stopped in front of Bruce. “Here, Daddy,” she said, holding out a medicine bottle.
Taking it, Bruce glanced at the name and took off the top. “Whoa,” Danny shouted, jumping down and grabbing his arm. “What are you taking?”
“Flexeril,” he said, trying to take his arm out of Danny’s grip.
“Dad, you can’t take medicine. You get a head rush off of Motrin.”
“Right now, I don’t care,” he said and just brought his mouth to his hand.
When Ted and Carl finally let the man go, Mike walked over to see Danny trying not to let Bruce put something in his mouth. “Sometimes, I feel like he’s a very large child,” Mike mumbled as Bruce ate what was in his hand.
“Bruce, what’s going on?” Mike asked, stopping beside Willie.
“Today sucks,” Willie offered quietly.
When Bruce turned to him, Mike knew something was wrong and stepped up to Bruce. “Dude, what’s wrong?”
“My ass is killing my leg!” Bruce cried out in anguish.
Not sure how to interpret that, Mike waited for Bruce to continue but he just rubbed his left glute, gritting his teeth. Slowly, Mike looked around at everyone, hoping for more information and Willie held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t do it,” Willie said.
“Bruce,” Mike said turning around. “Can you be more specific?”
“My ass cheek is locked up and won’t relax and it spread down my leg to my calf,” Bruce gasped, bending back over.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Mike said, reaching back to Bruce’s thigh and gave a startle, feeling how tense the upper thigh was. “Shit,” Mike said, moving his hand up. “Dude, your ass and leg feel like metal.”
“Cut it off,” Bruce huffed, pulling out his knife.
Not wanting Bruce to get any ideas, Mike took the knife and the others stepped back. “Man, that is a bad cramp,” Carl said.
Mike looked at Bruce’s face and saw his dry mouth and cracked lips. Then Mike grabbed Bruce’s hand, checking his capillary refill. “Bruce, you’re dehydrated big time,” Mike said.
“Cut my ass off!” Bruce cried out.
“Get in the command vehicle. You’re getting some fluids and valium.”
“Daddy Mike,” Danny said moving over. “He already took a muscle relaxer. You sure about more drugs?”
“Danny, I know how he gets, but he either does this or I send his ass back in a chopper.”
Shaking his head, Carl leaned over to Ted. “I never want a fuc
king cramp that bad.”
“I told Bruce yesterday he wasn’t drinking enough water,” Ted said, throwing up his hands.
Danny grabbed Bruce’s arm, pulling him to the command vehicle. “I just need a minute,” Bruce said. “I don’t need to lay up in Prometheus with an IV.”
“Jake, call Angela and Stephanie!” Danny shouted over her shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll go,” Bruce said, quickly hobbling toward the command vehicle.
They watched Danny lead Bruce as he leaned on Mike. When they were inside, Ted looked around. “So what was Bruce’s ultimate plan? going house to house yesterday?”
Jake jumped off the RG landing beside them. “He was trying to get them to commit to battle,” he said. “Or at the very least, to get out in masses and run.”
Gene tossed his plate on the fender as he got up. “Jake, you’re over first section,” he said looking around. “I think his plan would work in time, but we need to be out of here in a few days. Bruce wants all personnel back in Hope by the twenty-fifth. I don’t know why, but that’s his order. Nothing, unless a direct assault on the base is to stop it.”
The others all nodded with understanding. “So, you know why we have to be back?” Gene asked looking around.
“Yeah,” Jake said, turning and walking away. “Mom died on the twenty-seventh.”
“Oh,” Gene said, feeling bad for not knowing. Seeing the long faces, he clapped his hands hard with a loud slap, startling everyone. “Drop the long faces or we attack with pocket knives.”
“Yes!” Buffy cried out, pumping her fist behind Gene. Many of the new people looked at her excitement with fear.
“Except for you, Buffy,” Gene said not turning around. “Now, not to say I don’t like going house to house, but can anyone think of a way to dislodge the blues into an attack?”
“Uh, I know a way,” Willie said.
“Well troop, don’t keep me in suspense,” Gene barked.
“We need a female blue and some fire,” he said and everyone let out a gasp, looking at him in shock. He looked at the others, “Hey, I don’t know why it bothered me then but I can guaran-damn-tee you, it won’t ever again.”
Blue Plague (Book 7): Hope Page 22