The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade

by Demers, J. D.

  Besides the extra Stryker, we had retrieved seven trucks, all brimming with supplies. There was not one casualty among us. General Bolduc was impressed.

  As I walked through the storage center to find Jenna, I was amazed at how the morale of the refugees had changed. They would all be going to bed on full stomachs that night.

  There was still going to be rationing, according to Jodi. They had a lot of food, but who knew how long it would take to get the farms around the Taylor family producing crops. Of course, that also depended on whether the farmers would agree to help support General Bolduc and Jodi.

  I found Jenna sitting with Karina and Daniel near the rear of the compound.

  They asked about our raid and I gave them some details, leaving out what I thought Burghardt had done to Colonel Muller. I wanted to talk to Jenna about it to get her opinion and then maybe talk to Fish.

  Daniel seemed to clam up when I sat down. I saw no reason to engage him either. It wasn’t that I was mad at him, but I knew how he felt about me. There was little reason to disrupt the peace we currently had.

  Darkness fell over the storage complex. Jenna and the rest of our group that stayed behind had been helping the refugees pack up their trucks. No date was set for them to leave yet. I had a feeling that they wouldn’t sit there for long, though. Not with the promise of an Eden just a hundred miles south of them.

  Jenna, Boomer and I retreated to a small storage unit that hadn’t been claimed. She had already set up bedding for us. Before I could bring up Burghardt, Jenna began to kiss me. The story would have to wait until later.

  Hours later, Boomer woke me with a whine. It was then that I heard the popping of live, unsuppressed rounds in the distance. I peeked outside and saw the sun was just below the horizon.

  Quickly, I grabbed my gear.

  Jenna woke up.

  “What is it?” she asked, yawning

  I fastened my vest and shot her a worried look.

  “Probably just a few Zulus. Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”

  “I’m coming with—”

  She was cut off by a loud, concussive explosion in the distance.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Ogre

  August 15th Early Morning

  “What was that?” Jenna asked as she leapt from the sleeping bag.

  Boomer, who was more sensitive to the far-off gunshots and explosion, paced excitedly around the small unit.

  “Not sure. Definite explosion. Maybe a grenade…” I stopped, remembering the perimeter of the storage center. “Probably one of the claymores. But it wasn’t that close. Maybe on the north end of the compound or the bridge.”

  I stuffed my radio earbud in.

  “—report to the vehicles,” Dobson said as soon as I turned on the radio.

  “The Major wants us to meet at Big Red.”

  I turned and grabbed my AR15 and checked the bolt to make sure a round was chambered.

  “Finish getting ready,” I told her. “I’ll go get the others.”

  She complied as Boomer and I darted out of the unit. Enrique and Fish were sleeping next door with Daniel and Preacher in another unit just beyond them. Before I had a chance to enter Fish’s unit, he lifted the garage door with one big heave.

  “Where’s Jenna?” he asked, stepping into the open. Enrique was behind him, putting his gear on.

  “Getting ready. Everyone else?”

  Fish banged on the garage door next to his.

  “Preacher! Daniel!” he barked. Slowly, the door rose with Preacher on the other side.

  “Gear up and get to the motor pool,” Fish ordered and then turned to answer me.

  “They should have been in the motor pool already. Karina was bunking with the Doc in the bus. Campbell and Pitman were in our new toy.”

  There was no need to say where DJ was. He usually slept in Big Red.

  Jenna met us outside. Enrique, Daniel, and Preacher soon joined and the six of us hustled toward the motor pool.

  Guards were on alert as we ran. Spot lights, running on battery power, were turned on and facing west, into the brush. Armed men were climbing on top of the storage buildings, running along the length and getting into defensive positions.

  “Major? Sit Rep?” Fish transmitted as we ran past the final storage unit.

  “Just talked to Sheriff Green. Scabs are across the river and hitting the bridge,” Dobson answered.

  “QRF?”

  “Loading up now,” Dobson replied. “I’m going with them and we want you there as well. Pitman will stay with Christian.”

  “Roger that, sir. Be there in one mike.”

  Fish shot me a glare, reading my expression.

  “Don’t even think about it, kid,” he said gruffly as we exited the gates and stormed into the motor pool.

  “Think about what?” Jenna asked. She had not turned on her radio.

  Fish didn’t bother answering as we slowed to a stop in front of our vehicles.

  Dobson was completely geared up, as was DJ and Pitman.

  “Fish, DJ, and Jenna, on me,” Dobson ordered. “Scabs are hitting the bridge. Campbell will drive our Stryker. We’re going to support their QRF.”

  Karina and Doctor Tripp joined us.

  “What’s going on?” the teenager asked.

  “Back in the bus,” Fish growled and then glared at the Doctor. “You, too, lady. Scabs are running wild.”

  Karina, already holding her MP5, was insulted.

  I leaned over to her and whispered, “Guard the bus and keep Doctor Tripp safe.”

  She glared at me, but nodded after firing off a nasty look at Fish.

  It was true that Karina had more than proved herself against zombies. Scabs, however, were not zombies. I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting hurt by one.

  “They’re moving out,” Campbell reported over the comms.

  Just then, the screeching howls of the scabs could be heard up the river near the bridge.

  The rear hatch on the Stryker was down and Dobson motioned toward the opening.

  “We need to get moving!” he barked.

  Jenna shot me a worried look.

  “Sir, I should come too,” I told Dobson.

  “Negative. Three hundred or so scabs in the area, your ass is staying here.”

  “But Boomer—”

  “Will make sure you’re safe,” he said, cutting me off. He wasn’t going to let me use Boomer’s unique skills to barter my way onto the Stryker.

  “We’ll be okay,” Jenna said.

  DJ, Fish, Dobson, and finally Jenna, all headed for the open hatch of the Stryker.

  On impulse, I stepped forward, but Pittman stuck his hand out, stopping me.

  “Keep your eye on the ball, Christian,” he warned.

  “I’m guessing I’m the ball?” I said mockingly.

  “Something like that,” he said coldly, his hand resting on my chest.

  In minutes, the Stryker headed out of the motor pool, following the MRAP and two HUMVEEs. The bridge wasn’t far, and they would reach it in less than five minutes.

  “So, what do we do?” I asked Pittman, not hiding my frustration.

  “We wait. Help defend the compound, if necessary.”

  Doctor Tripp turned to Pittman.

  “Christian should wait in the bus, just in case.”

  “Good idea,” Pittman agreed.

  “While my friends are out there risking their lives?” I argued.

  “It only takes one spear, Christian,” Doctor Tripp countered.

  More gun shots echoed in the distance and my earpiece erupted.

  “They’re coming up the west bank!” Campbell shouted.

  “I’ve got four on the bridge,” DJ added.

  My friends continued to bark at each other, calling out targets and giving directions. I turned down the radio volume so that it was just a distant whisper.

  Armed men began to shuffle through the motor pool, taking up positions near the fencing.<
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  “Get in the bus, Christian,” Pittman ordered.

  “Come on, Christian,” Karina said, tugging at my sleeve.

  Doctor Tripp, Karina, Daniel and I all boarded the bus. I gave Pittman a reluctant glance. He firmly nodded his head, directing me to close the door. Boomer, too excited to join me, decided to stay outside with Pittman.

  I worried he may run off toward the action.

  “This is bullshit,” I cursed, sitting in the driver’s seat.

  Daniel fidgeted.

  “I should have gone with them,” he moaned. “What if someone gets hurt?”

  “Then you’ll help them when this is all over,” Doctor Tripp assured him.

  My foot tapped uncontrollably as more reports came in over the radio. Some said people were down. None were ours, but still, it didn’t sound good. Jenna and DJ were ordered to take up firing positions near the Stryker while Fish and Dobson went in to help out the people at the bridge.

  The heavy clatter of the 50-caliber machinegun could be heard. I imagined scabs being ripped into pieces by the cannon.

  “This is their first time going after the bridge…” I muttered, remembering the three previous instances General Bolduc described. All the attacks had come from the west. This time, however, they were northeast of the storage compound.

  I wondered why they would target the bridge. After all, the scabs knew where most of the refugees were located. They proved that with their multiple attacks on the west side of the compound. Why would they go after a relatively well defended area with little in the way of spoils? If scabs did have half a brain, like they had proven time and time again, they had to know people from the storage center would show up to help repel the attack.

  A feeling of dread washed over me.

  “It’s a distraction,” I whispered to myself.

  “What?” Doctor Tripp asked.

  I shook my head as thoughts jumbled together in my head.

  “It’s a distraction. If they’re attacking the bridge, they know we’re going to react. They’re already on the river! They’re already on their way here!”

  I shot up out of my seat and headed for the door.

  “Christian!” Karina called, but I ignored her.

  “Pittman!” I shouted, exiting the bus.

  He and Enrique were on top of Big Red, scanning the area for signs of trouble.

  “What are you doing?” he asked angrily.

  “It’s a distraction!” I said in earnest.

  Enrique approached the edge of the fire engine. “What you mean?”

  “They know they can’t attack here from the west, and they know there is a lot of firepower here. I think they have suckered us, drawing out our fighters.”

  Enrique and Pittman hopped off Big Red. Doctor Tripp, Daniel, and Karina had crowded on the CDC bus steps.

  “What are you getting at?” Pittman asked.

  “Maybe they’re using the bridge as a distraction as other scabs move along the river,” I replied, and then shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m giving them too much credit.”

  As if on cue, a scream erupted from within the compound. Gunshots followed.

  “What’s going on?” Preacher asked, coming from around Big Red.

  “Scabs!” Pittman hissed.

  More gunshots and screams from inside the walls flared up, causing chaos in the motor pool. Some of the defenders rushed back toward the gates, others talked on radios, waiting for orders.

  Enrique, armed with a shotgun cocked it.

  “Get in the bus,” Pittman growled, directing me back the way I came.

  “And you?” I said, not budging.

  “I’m going to help them. You need to—”

  “Screw that, Pittman! I’ve had your back before, and I’m going to have it again. If these guys break through, then we’re toast anyway.”

  Pittman seemed about to argue until an explosion ripped through the compound.

  He took a deep breath and then released it.

  “Major’s going to kill me,” Pittman hissed as he brought up his rifle.

  “If any of us live, I’ll tell him you came after me,” I said with a weak grin.

  Pittman turned to Preacher.

  “Get in the bus and protect the others.”

  “I’m coming, too!” Daniel declared, jumping out of the bus with his medical bag.

  Pittman briefly studied Enrique, myself and Daniel. We were not the troops he was use to leading, but we were all he had.

  “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Christian with me. Enrique take the rear.”

  We nodded and took off south, in the direction of the fighting inside the compound.

  Boomer ran ahead of us toward the gates that now only had one guard. The others had left their posts and went to the southern side of the compound where the fighting was happening.

  The sun finally crested the horizon, improving our visibility as we moved into the storage center.

  It was mayhem. We could hear numerous wails of anger and glee as the scabs communicated with each other. None seemed close, but they were definitely in or near the southern perimeter of the compound.

  People were running everywhere. Most seemed to be unarmed noncombatants.

  The acrid smell of gunpowder and phosphorus filled the air. Smoke was billowing out from somewhere behind the larger storage units at the far end of the complex.

  We passed the rows of buildings, dodging people running in the opposite direction.

  Daniel had pulled out his 9mm, holding it toward the ground. Enrique, Pittman and I all had our weapons raised.

  We neared the last row of storage units. General Bolduc’s quarters were right around the corner. We weren’t sure if he was still in there or had left when the initial attack occurred at the bridge.

  Gunshots reverberated around us. Most of the people at the storage compound lacked suppressors. Light shown from the rising sun as we slowed, approaching the final building. Figures darted around and appeared to be shooting in the direction of the pumping station. We were still out of sight, though, and had yet to see any scabs.

  Smoke billowed from a burning SUV, encompassing the area. An acrid smell of soot and gas filled my mouth and nostrils. On the ground, next to the inferno, lay the bottom half of a person. Man, or woman, I couldn’t tell.

  A sudden flashback of the bombing in Afghanistan flooded from the depths of my memory. I only looked for a moment, but the carnage was the same.

  Scabs didn’t use bombs or explosives, though, which meant one of these people had somehow blown themselves up. We had recovered plenty of grenades from the high school. If someone had pulled the pin and either held it too long or was killed before they threw it, it would account for the wreckage and mutilation.

  A scream came from above, followed by a body falling to the pavement, nearly missing Daniel. An archaic spear jutted from the man’s rib cage. He was moaning in pain and Daniel immediately tore open his medical bag and investigated the wounded man.

  “Pittman!” a hoarse voice called from behind.

  We spun and saw Coleman, an armed man and woman toting newly acquired M4’s, and General Bolduc jogging our way. The General was panting, obviously slowed down by age and the cancer that was slowly consuming him.

  Coleman came to a stop and took a moment to catch his breath. In his hands, he was carrying an M249. We commonly referred to it as a SAW, or Squad Automatic Weapon. It fired the same rounds as my AR15, but at an incredible rate. A one hundred round ammo box was attached to the bottom and belt-fed into the chamber.

  “Any idea how many there are, General?” Pittman asked.

  The General shook his head while he caught his breath.

  “We stopped an incursion at the midway point of the wall, but scabs are loose inside the compound to the south. Communication is sketchy back here. But our people are dying and we need to help them.”

  More wails from the scabs and gunfire erupted around the long building.r />
  The man and woman who escorted the General seemed frightened. I was pretty sure they had only received a crash course in how to handle the M4s. They held them awkwardly, which made me nervous.

  Pittman peeked around the corner and snapped back.

  “The smoke is getting worse, but I think it will provide some cover. If you can, pull your men back this way so we can regroup.”

  General Bolduc nodded, and transmitted the orders.

  “The Sheriff and Burghardt are at the bridge, Sergeant,” the General told Pittman.

  Pittman nodded, understanding the General was asking him to take charge of his men.

  “Coleman, give me your radio,” Pittman told the pilot.

  Coleman complied and Pittman began to dole out orders to the men fighting the scabs. Small groups of armed men and women began to come from the smoky area. Some were bleeding, others were in shock.

  “We’ll set up a perimeter here. I’ll take him,” Pittman said, pointing to the man next to the General, “Enrique, and the group that’s coming here now. We’re going to snake by the burning truck and outflank them.”

  I shuddered at the thought of outflanking a scab.

  General Bolduc nodded.

  “Right, Sergeant. I’ll pull everyone back to the second building. We’ll shoot anything that crawls our way.”

  “Good idea, sir. We’ll box them in,” Pittman smirked, though it wasn’t that comforting of a smile.

  The gunfire died down as everyone retreated back to our position. In minutes, Pittman had his team ready and they took off. They used the smoke as cover and circled around until they made it to the southern wall. We lost sight of them behind the vehicles and wreckage as they inched toward the water pumping station on the east side of the compound.

  General Bolduc began barking orders to what was left of his people.

  The shrieks from the scabs began to echo each other, as if they were trying to figure out what to do next with most of their targets gone. It was unnerving and creepy.

  I glanced at Daniel. He wiped his blood-stained hands on his trousers, shaking his head. He looked up at me, defeat in his eyes. The body beneath him lay still.