Plague Years (Book 3): This Thing of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine

by Rounds, Mark

  This Thing of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine

  Mark Rounds

  Copyright © Mark Rounds

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1979450850

  ISBN-10: 1979450854

  DEDICATION

  To my wife and family who put up with me. Also to the Colonel Hugh Shoults, soldier, father, and friend. Life is less sweet with your passing.

  Preface

  I have never written a preface before. I know from personal experience that most people never read them. However, for this volume I felt compelled. This year, three people who were important to my writing and my life in general have shuffled this mortal coil. The first was Colonel Hugh Shoults. If you have read my previous books, you know that he was one of my technical advisors and the inspiration for the character, Andrianos Antonopoulos. He was killed in an auto accident after having served multiple tours in combat in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other unpleasant places.

  The second was John Dalmas. He was my first writing mentor and gave me some sage advice the first time I dabbled in this field. I have seen him for years at various cons since and he has always had a kind word and a helpful suggestion even as he got more and more frail. He also was one of my first readers for the first book of this series. But sadly, he passed away this year.

  Finally, my longtime friend, SFC Richard Ingram was declared dead. Eight years ago, while on active duty, he had an episode of PTSD and disappeared and was never heard from again. He too will be missed. All of these issues slowed the appearance of this book, but in the long run probably made it better as I wrote for them, as much as for you, the reader.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’ll include on this list Colonel Hugh Shoults, USA and Lieutenant Colonel Donald Kaag, USA(ret) for knowledge about the military technical details. I would like to thank Lieutenant Kris Schweigert of the Washington State Highway Patrol for helping get all the police procedures correct. I would also like to acknowledge and thank Thia Kaag who edited my copy and chided me about commas, and Don Kaag who educated me about hyphens. Any mistakes are the fault of the author.

  I would also like to thank my beta readers who helped make this a materially better book, Mike Finkbiner, Donald and Thia Kaag, Elizabeth and Austin Wilmerding, Sarah Silva, and my son, Garret Rounds.

  I would like to also specifically thank my wife and children (who are no longer kids). So thanks to Jani for computer support, Garret for knowledge about all things automotive, and Bethany for educating me in how not to write a sexist novel, and always to my wife for being softhearted and not telling me to get lost when we started dating.

  Dramatis Personae

  (Carried over from “At This Hour, Lie at My Mercy All Mine Enemies”)

  Ace, longtime member of the Apple Valley Bikers Against Child Abuse and Hammer’s Road buddy.

  Ælfheah, a nearly superhuman warrior and one of Nergüi’s followers.

  Lieutenant Colonel Amos, Area Commander for the forces in and around Moscow, ID.

  Colonel (later General) Andrianos Antonopoulos ,USAF, Commander of the 62nd Airlift wing and an old friend of Chad Strickland’s from his service days.

  Lieutenant General Buckley, USA, I corps Commander. Military Governor of the State of Washington.

  Carlos, a nearly superhuman warrior and one of Nergüi’s followers.

  Master Sergeant Filby, Hand to hand instructor for the 92nd Security Police Squadron and First Sergeant for Fairchild’s Special Ops Team.

  Staff Sergeant Jon Finkbiner, First Sergeant for A Flight, 109th Security Police Squadron at Fairchild AFB.

  Harold Gibson, a prior service Marine, Harold volunteered to reenlist on the 4th of July despite being 71. He is Connor Strickland’s spotter.

  The Grease Monkey and Sparky, chapter mechanics for the Apple Valley Bikers Against Child Abuse.

  Hammer, Ace’s riding buddy and longtime member of the Apple Valley Biker’s Against Child Abuse. He also has a mysterious past.

  Amber Hoskins, former Sherriff’s deputy who is one of the few Plague survivors to go into complete remission. She is the recent fiancée of Chis Vaughn whose life she saved in their first encounter with the ‘Infected’.

  Amy Howeland, Connor Strickland’s friend and classmate from childhood who is developing feelings for Connor.

  Captain Lassiter, Pre-Plague, US naval officer in charge of antisubmarine warfare on the west coast. Now he is the Intel Officer (G2) for GEN Antonopoulos.

  Little Bear: a Plague survivor who actually met Lewis and Clark. These days, he is a double agent who plays both sides of the Plague to enhance the capabilities of the Indian Movement.

  Horace T. Macklin, former Homeland Security Special Agent who is now the tool of those who would spread the Plague that is bringing humanity to its knees.

  Airman Basic Morton, a young trouble maker who grew up quickly after his first taste of combat.

  Nergüi, a member of the cabal that infected the world with the Plague.

  Jeremy Price, 1st Lieutenant, Commander of the Fairchild Special Ops Team.

  Sayla, a nearly superhuman warrior and one of Nergüi’s followers until he took the opportunity to abandon him and throw his lot in with the Stricklands.

  Slider, member of the Apple Valley Bikers Against Child Abuse and currently leading a patrol out of Royal City.

  Smokey, chapter president of the Apple Valley Bikers Against Child Abuse and friend to the Stricklands.

  Chad Strickland, statistical scientist and former Air Force intelligence analyst. Starts the chain of preparation in motion when the information about the Plague is not all it seems.

  Mary Strickland, wife to Chad, mother to their three children, and a food service manager. Her Irish temper, once aroused, is not easily quelled. She is innovative and organized.

  Connor Strickland, tall, athletic and smart, he is the seventeen year old son of Mary and Chad.

  Fiona Strickland, fourteen year old sister of Connor who is a brat on the outside, but fierce in her devotion to her family.

  Bob Strickland, Chad’s older and some say smarter brother. He is a Professor at the University of Idaho who has offered the family refuge in Moscow ID.

  Captain Jennifer Stutesman, veterinary officer and now commander of A Flight, 109th Security Police Squadron.

  Sven, a nearly superhuman warrior and one of Nergüi’s followers.

  David Tippet, Major, USMC ret., recently widowed, former Force Recon officer who was medically retired from the service. Used to teach history at a Columbia Basin Community College and now has spearheaded the Strickland’s family group efforts to survive.

  Heather Tunney, recently divorced employee of Mary Strickland. She is a single mother to her three kids and resourceful in all sorts of interesting ways.

  Captain Wesley Twitchell, Commander of the headquarters Squadron of the 92 Air Refueling Wing at Fairchild AFB.

  Chris Vaughn, former Washington Highway Patrol Sergeant, who is resourceful, level headed. He is friend to the Stricklands and devoted to Amber.

  David Whipkey, Captain and former C-17 co-pilot who was seconded to Lassiter’s organization to work the Intel side of the street.

  Raleigh Winters, Tech Sergeant, sniper for the Fairchild Special Ops team.

  Viking Dan, also known as VD, resembles a Viking in coloration and stature. Longtime member of the Apple Valley Biker’s Against Child Abuse and rides with Slider.

  Voodoo, longtime member of the Apple Valley Biker’s Against Child Abuse and rides with Slider.

  Chapter 1

  July 10th, Friday, 3:12 pm
PDT

  A cave near Cardwell MT

  “Do you still think we should cower in the shadows?” asked Zhao Hede, a small woman of Asian descent. Her appearance was that of a healthy woman in her eighties, but she was older, much, much, older.

  “Until five years ago, we thought Nergüi and his colleagues were dead, or scattered, but in any event certainly not a threat,” said a wizened man with piercing blue eyes. “Then Little Bear came to us with that improbable tale about the resurgence of the Plague.”

  “And you did nothing,” said Zhao accusingly.

  “Little Bear is hardly a reliable source,” said the old man pointing at Zhao. “Even you weren’t sure.”

  “I wasn’t sure,” said Zhao, “but I asked more questions. And the answers were disturbing. Cases of the Plague were showing up in drug subcultures all around the world; far more than should normally have been there, spurred by designer drugs that made infection easier. Then there were the abductions of anyone who survived and went into remission. We all know this is how they grow their power.

  “Then, with Little Bear’s help, I was able to find their lab in northern California where they were making a weapon out of the Plague. I asked you for help and you told me to wait.”

  “Yes, we did,” said the old man. “You have lived long, Zhao, but some of us have lived longer. We have seen many of these schemes in the past, and they have always collapsed under their own weight.”

  “But it didn’t,” said Zhao, “Even with Little Bear and I doing all we could to sabotage that effort, it’s now upon us.”

  “Perhaps, if you had waited as we suggested, the effort would have failed on its own?” asked the old man blandly. “Now the world is in chaos. Two thirds of the world’s population is dead and the majority of the rest is infected or hiding in little enclaves. This is somehow better than it would have been, had you just left them alone?”

  “A vain and pious hope,” said Zhao bitterly. “They have brought in specialists who are not hampered by our excessive caution, like this former Special Agent Macklin. He is smart and can get things done. It would be worse had I not acted. Even you can see that difference?”

  “So now you have met with Strickland and his friends,” said the old man who was now sitting up straight and no longer smiling. “You think they will save the world?”

  “Amber,” said Zhao, “the Chosen woman who is with them can, if we can keep her safe and train her.”

  “Perhaps,” said the old man, “But they hunt her. We are five old people with delusions of grandeur. How can we do that?”

  “The Stricklands and their friends are very capable,” said Zhao. “They have gathered resources in Moscow Idaho. They have connections with many military resources ...”

  “So does Nergüi,” said the old man. “He is an ancient warlord and is building his own army. Besides, that new General Antonopoulos is now in danger of being captured and Nergüi is using resources rashly to ensure that it happens. You think you can stop him?

  “Not alone, but perhaps we can help,” said Zhao. “Nergüi, is using ‘The Call’ with wild abandon to stir up the Infected hoards. Perhaps we can cloud their reception.”

  “It is a dangerous game you propose,” said the old man.

  “They will hunt us to extinction if we do not succeed,” said Zhao. “This is our last best hope. Here is what I propose …”

  July 10th, Friday, 3:12 pm PDT

  Deep Creek Road, West of Fairchild Air Force Base WA

  After much swearing and heavy labor LT. Jeremy Price and his detachment from the 92nd Security Police squadron had moved the semi-tractor trailer unit they had captured off the hill and out of the farmer’s field. It had taken close to three hours to cover the four hundred yards to the dirt road that led to the main highway.

  The commander of the 92nd Air Refueling Wing out of Fairchild had told them to prepare to remain overnight, as the forces at Fairchild were mopping up after an attack by the Infected and resources for an extraction were needed elsewhere. But Price and his team had at least one wounded prisoner and the other of their two prisoners was showing signs of Slash withdrawal. Clearly, they wouldn’t be able to wait. So, after the airman had taken out the mercenaries who had been jamming communications in the Fairchild AFB area, they, and the helicopter pilot, Scott Sines, had secured their prisoners with the handyman’s friend, duct tape. Then they had begun the work of getting the vehicle out of the field because ground fire had rendered Sines’s helicopter inoperable.

  “Red Rover Control,” said Jeremy into his personal radio, he wasn’t sure it had the range to reach the base, but he had nothing else since their only other long range radio was still in their shot up helicopter. “This is Red Rover One Seven, we are mobile. I say again, we are mobile. Request orders.”

  “Red Rover One Seven,” came the reply over a static filled radio from the Fairchild command post, “This is Red Rover Control. Stand by for Red Rover One.”

  “Red Rover One Seven, Roger,” said Jeremy.

  “One Seven, this is Red Rover One, are you airborne?”

  “Negative sir,” said Jeremy. “We have freed the semi-truck and generator unit and have got it on the road, sir. We have stripped the UH-1N and are headed toward base.”

  “What is your fuel status One Seven?”

  “We have half full tanks in the tractor unit,” said Jeremy, “and there are tanks for the generator unit. They are also half full. I estimate that there is another hundred or so gallons that we could transfer.”

  “Red Rover One Seven, I have revised tasking for you. Haven One is on the ground in your general vicinity. We are out of radio contact save for sat phone with Haven Control. I need you to go find them. They were headed south and east last we saw. Authentication X-ray Romeo.”

  “Roger sir,” said Jeremy fumbling through is his code book. “Red Rover One Seven Authenticates Zulu Foxtrot. Sir, we have two prisoners of intel value, one of whom is wounded. Can you make a rendezvous to pick them up?”

  “Negative, One Seven. Haven One restricted us to the base until our perimeter is secure. We are a long way from that.”

  “LT,” said Capt Sines from the driver’s seat of the semi, “I have an idea. Can I have comms?”

  “All yours Captain,” said Jeremy, handing over the headset.

  “Red Rover One,” said Sines, “this is the pilot of One Seven. I have my chart out and I can see that the best way for us to get to the last known position of Haven One is to follow South Ritchey Road which will take us within a couple thousand feet of the perimeter at the end of the runway. There is the Washington State Veteran’s Cemetery on that road with a couple of outbuildings. If you can bend Haven One’s restriction to get to that location, we can hand off the prisoners there. Or if things are still dicey, we can leave them trussed up in the Cemetery’s garden shed until you can make it.

  “We will also leave some documents the intel section might find useful. I estimate our ETA to that location to be roughly seven minutes. I also request to be reassigned to One Seven’s mission. I have armed myself with weapons taken from the prisoners and would like to be of some use now that my helicopter is broken. Copy Red Rover One?”

  “Roger One Seven, I will have a vehicle patrol out to that shed in three zero minutes. Tie them up tight Captain. Your request is granted. Good hunting!”

  July 10th, Friday, 4:04 pm PDT

  Powers Farm just off of Green Hollow Rd. six miles north of Colfax WA

  Sergeant James Dean Brocke, or JD as he was known to his friends, leaned forward in the saddle to try to see what was in the woods that was partially screened by a bend in the road. He was the leader of a squad of cavalry in the Idaho National Guard out of Moscow Idaho.

  “Billie,” said JD to his senior team leader as he put down his binoculars, “I think I see some motion in that brush up ahead but I can’t make it out.”

  “Want me to ride down there and check it out?” asked Billie, eyeing the grove of
trees critically. “I could git down there to that clump of brush by the side of the road. If it’s just some locals hiding out or somethin’, I’ll be cool. If not then me an’ Rusty will hightail it back up here. If you guys were waiting, it would be right handy.”

  JD rolled his eyes. While he had spent seven years in the Army before getting out to help with his family’s trucking company, most of his troopers were in his unit mainly by virtue of the fact that they owned horses. Discipline was a little loose and they mostly carried themselves like it was an old western. The squad was also two thirds female as that gender was the majority of horse owners in the area.

  “Prepare to dismount!” shouted JD over his shoulder.

  “Dismount!”

  “Horse holders forward!” The three newest troopers, one of them sixteen-year-old Noah Smith, gathered the squad’s mounts. JD had found an old copy of FM 2-5, Cavalry Drill Regulations, published in 1944, and he and Lieutenant Sage had been training the troops to that standard.

  Cavalry moved and fought in fours with the most inexperienced trooper being used to hold the horses out of the line of fire and the other three going forward to engage the enemy. His troops dismounted and went forward into cover. JD decided to stay mounted on Stomper, a 16 hand high quarter horse that he used to take hunting before the Plague. The height helped him see better for he was a little worried about Billie.