Episode 2
(Camp Freedom)
Pualani was violently thrown head first into the speedboat. Her wrists had been crudely bound behind her back with duct tape, and she was lying face down in the boat. Vinnie the Guinea put his dirty filthy boot on the back of her neck to hold her down as Billy boy got their speedboat underway in a hurry.
“Do you think they saw us?” Vinnie asked.
“Nah, they had no idea what happened. I saw them go onto the dock to help that schmuck, but they’ll never catch us now,” Billy boy said as he started eying their new captive, longingly.
“You should have put a bullet in his head; he’ll come for her. I know I would if I was him.” Vinnie said as he drove his boot into her ribs to flip her on her back.
“You’re DEAD men, both of you!” Pualani said as she wiggled her wrists trying, unsuccessfully, to free her bonds, and screaming like a banshee. She ranted, “Who the fuck are you, where are you taking me… Why are you doing this and—goddammit—where is my fucking dog?” She had managed to get onto her knees, and was icily staring at Vinnie when he brutally backhanded her, knocking the back of her head violently against the bow of the boat.
“Listen, Bitch!” Vinnie said, towering over her, “You don’t ask any fucking questions here, you do what I say or I’ll beat the ever-loving shit out of you, and then throw your ragged body to those fucking feeders to finish you off.”
Pualani stared at him malevolently and silently weighed her options.
“You can start by giving me a little kiss,” Vinnie said as he leaned over her and put his hand around her throat, choking her as he mounted her. He put his hands on her shoulders to pin her down as he started dry humping her and licking her face. “Oh yea, baby, you like this, huh?”
He whispered in her ear disturbingly as he lined up his lips to hers for a kiss. Pualani saw her opportunity and desperately bit Vinnie’s bulbous nose, and viciously thrashed her head from side to side like a crocodile mangling her prey. She finished her assault with a coup de grâce of crashing her forehead into Vinnie’s nose. This ferocious head butt sent the would-be rapist reeling in pain.
“You fucking whore!” Vinnie yelled, clutching his nose which had nearly been bitten off. He reached down for his favorite weapon, a tire iron and picked it up slowly as blood from his nose pooled onto the deck of the speedboat, like a water faucet had been turned on.
“Stop!” Billy boy shouted, authoritatively. “We need her; we’ll get a good price for her. Stop fucking with her!” Billy boy roared to Vinnie like a dog owner giving commands to his Rottweiler puppy. “Clean up your nose, you’re bleeding like you’ve been bitten by a feeder. We’re coming into the cove now, I need you to be alert, we haven’t been around for a while, and I don’t know what to expect.”
“And you!” he said, pointing his fat finger at Pualani, “Calm down, or I’ll come over there and murder you myself,” Billy boy said, diabolically.
Pualani met his gaze evenly and spit out the remainder of Vinnie’s bloody nose that she had in her mouth as they entered the cove.
The speedboat entered the narrow, restricted entrance of the bay slowly. It was a small, confined and sheltered coastal inlet, known to the pirates as The Cove. It had extremely high walls due to the cliff above, and a few cirque-like openings that made for a nook or a hollow. As the boat pulled onto the beach, Pualani noticed dozens of feeder heads protruding from the sand as the outgoing tide revealed this hellish site.
“You like that, bitch?” Was all she heard as she was yanked out of the boat by her hair and slammed onto the beach, face first, with her wrists still bound. “You’re just lucky I don’t kill you now for what you did to my nose,” Vinnie said, balefully.
Pualani brought her face up out of the sand, and saw that she was less than an inch away from a feeder that was buried up to its neck in the sand. The feeder was enthusiastically chomping away, trying to get a bite out of its new meal that was so close. Pualani jerked her head back as she took in this grotesque sight. This one has been here for a while; it must be like a trap or a way to catch, trick anyone that tries to escape, she thought, dismally.
She was brought out of her reverie by the sharp pain of her head being yanked back by her hair. As she was pulled to her feet, she saw dozens, no, hundreds of these repulsive feeder heads strategically placed and sticking out of the sand. She felt a strong hand on her tricep forcing her to walk. She observed the immense height of the cliff, and a feeling of hopelessness came over her as she was led to a primitive P.O.W. style pit.
It was about twelve feet deep and ten feet wide, she noted, before she was flung into the pit like a rag doll by Vinnie the Guinea. She fell into the pit like a sack of potatoes, crash landing in the mud covering the bottom of the pit.
“Get used to your new home, cunt! You’ll be here for a while,” Vinnie said as he laughed menacingly.
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” Pualani muttered to herself as she felt a pair of hands fumbling around her wrists in the dark.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” Pualani shouted at the stranger who had just torn off her duct tape restraints.
“I’m helping you,” said a soft voice in the dark.
Pualani focused her eyes on the woman as the moonlight shone on her face. She was ragged, thin and had obviously been ill-treated also. “My name is Luanne, and I’m so sorry you’re here, but I’m so glad to see you,” Luanne said, confusingly, as she hugged Pualani heartily.
“Where am I? What’s going on? Why am I here?” Pualani asked as a million questions swirled around in her head.
****
Mason awoke groggily to Cujo licking his face. He gently pushed the dog aside as he sat up weakly, and lightly rubbed the back of his head.
“Hey bro, how’re you feeling?” Brody asked, happy to see him still alive.
“Like shit, man,” he replied, shakily.
“Good morning, sunshine, I’m glad to see you’re still with us,” Cap’n Tony said as he joined the conversation. “We’re heading into Camp Freedom now; there’ll be medical supplies and food. I know you’re probably starving by now,” he said as he laid hard on the tugboat air horn to alert the camp of their presence.
“Yea, I could eat.” Mason said as he ran the previous night’s events over and over in his head.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get her back,” Kalen said as he knelt down to give Mason some of his water.
They pulled into the harbor at the island, and Mason was immediately impressed by the defensive walls surrounding the camp. They were at least fifteen feet high, concrete walls, with guard towers and strategically placed gun emplacements. He noted that the guards seemed alert and capable, not to mention, several of them had their weapons trained on the incoming tugboat. The harbor itself was unguarded, but far from unprotected; any boat entering this harbor was well within range of the uniformed guards on the walls and watchtowers.
As they moored the boat, they collected the supplies and started walking towards the camp gate. They had to contend with several rolls of six feet high, razor sharp, coiled barb wire, which Tony and Kalen expertly guided the group through. There were three rows of barbed wire, each leaving about a gap of twenty-five or thirty feet. The gap was a no man’s land or a kill zone, and they navigated through the fortifications delicately as they came upon the entrance to the camp gate.
“This is some sick shit, man,” Brody said to Mason as he carried Cujo under his arms.
“I know, I never imagined anything like this, this is a goddamn fortress,” Mason said as the camp gate creaked open, revealing six armed uniformed guards and a man wearing US Navy officer khakis.
“Cap’n Tony, it’s good to see you, I feared the worst,”
the man in officer khakis said as he shook Tony and Kalen’s hand. “I see you brought survivors with you,” the man said as he eyed Mason and Brody, sizing them up.
“Ah… Yes, Admiral, this is Mason and Brody. I found them in Cocoa beach. We lost some; we had complications,” Tony said, sadly.
“I see, we’ll talk about that later,” the Admiral said, sternly, as he walked over to Mason and Brody.
“Welcome to Camp Freedom, I’m glad you’re here, we’re always in need of more able bodied men. You look like you have a concussion, son. I’m going to have you escorted to our sick bay to get that looked at. I’m also going to need you to surrender your weapons for now. Only our security force is allowed to be armed within the camp,” the Admiral said, gesturing to the guards to come and collect all of the weapons.
“I’m not surrendering shit,” Brody said, defiantly. “Mason, what the fuck is going on, do you trust this guy?”
Mason stared at the Admiral, he was in his early sixties and wearing a US Navy issued officer khaki uniform. He had three stars on his shoulder boards and was wearing the sleeve stripes of a vice admiral. He glanced at the guards and noted that they were wearing blue, multicolored, digital print, navy working uniforms, or “Digis”, as Mason fondly remembered from his eleven year tour in the Navy.
“It’s alright, Brody, let them have the guns. We’re in a safe place, everything will be alright,” Mason said as he laid down his rifle and ax.
“Man… Fuck this shit!” Brody said, angrily, as he threw his weapons down.
The newly unarmed men followed the Admiral and his guards into the camp. Brody immediately lightened up as he saw that this camp was more like a city than a ragtag holdout with a few tents. There were people everywhere, clean, normal people going about their business, moving in groups and task oriented. There was not a smell of death in the air, only the warm offshore breeze blowing at their backs.
“This is Mambo, he is the MA or Master at Arms of the camp, he’ll escort you to sick bay and show you to your quarters. After you get settled in and your wounds treated, we’ll need to de-brief you. There is much to discuss, and I’m afraid we won’t have time for subtleties,” the Admiral said, briskly, to Mason and Brody. “Cap’n Tony and Kalen, I’d like to speak to you now,” he said, motioning for Tony and his son to follow him.
“Follow me,” Mambo said as he started walking at a fast pace.
“Mason, this is kinda fucking weird … sick bay and our quarters? What are we on, the goddamn Starship Enterprise?” Brody asked as Mambo turned around to answer him.
“The Admiral was at sea for almost forty years and commanded hundreds of ships and tens of thousands of men. He runs this camp like it’s a ship, you’ll get used to the lingo,” Mambo said as he opened the door to a primitive type of hut with a couple cot and medical supplies strewn about.
“This is the camp doctor and surgeon, her name is Maria, but everyone just calls her doc,” Mambo said as he introduced the two men to her.
She was a veterinarian when the outbreak started, but as the only medical professional at the camp she utilized her vast knowledge to help everyone. Cujo flew out of Brody’s arms and launched himself at Maria, jumping up on her legs, desperately begging the doc to pick her up.
“I guess he likes you. I was getting tired of carrying that damn dog around anyway,” Brody said to the doc.
“I have that effect on animals,” Maria said, with a slight Puerto Rican accent, as she picked up Cujo and began to pet him. “It looks like you guys have been through hell. Let me see your gash, I’ll need to clean it and change the bandages before it gets any more infected than it already is,” she said, motioning to Mason to lie down on the cot.
“Alright, I’ll be back for you guys in a little while,” Mambo said as he turned to walk out.
Mason laid down on the military style cot to let the doc treat him as Brody curled up on the adjacent one to take a nap.
A few hours later, Mambo returned to collect Mason and Brody and gave them a tour or an indoctrination of Camp Freedom. It was undoubtedly one of the last holdouts of civilization on the East Coast; it was heavily fortified and surrounded on all sides.
As they passed the helipad, they noticed two mechanics working on a couple of Seahawk SH-60 assault helicopters and, after they were led into the armory, they found a cache of weapons that would rival any third world country's arsenal.
“This is amazing. You’ve got one hell of a collection of weapons and ammo,” Mason said to Mambo.
“You’ve got assault helicopters, holy shit, what are you preparing for?” Brody said, genuinely impressed with his new allies and situation.
“A war,” Mambo replied, soberly. “Let’s go, the others are waiting for us in the pilot house,” he said, in his thick East African accent.
Mambo turned to lead them towards where the others were waiting; Mason was sizing up this imposing man. Mambo was well over six feet tall and must have weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. He walked with a slight limp, but, nevertheless, he had a commanding presence about him.
Mason had remembered the stories that Cap’n Tony had told him back on the roof of the pub. One that stuck with him was about how Mambo had joined the US Navy to give his two teenage daughters a better life, by being able to move them to America. He had lost his wife in childbirth, and his only goal in life was to see his daughters go to a university in the U.S. and not have to suffer like he had.
When his first enlistment ended, Mambo was given a green card and permission to bring his daughters to the states as his dependents. Unfortunately, he was too late. While the girls were packing their bags and saying goodbye to their grandmother, they were abducted by Islamic radicals and publicly executed in the streets of Mogadishu, after it was decided that they were spies. It was a messy, shocking event that had been posted on YouTube for the world to see.
Mambo fell apart and was lost. He suffered a complete mental breakdown, and it wasn’t until the Admiral had found and helped him recover, that he was able to make any semblance of his life. Not long after that, the Annihilation epidemic began and he has been by the Admiral’s side since the beginning and would gladly lay down his life to protect him. He had become a stoic, vicious killer that answered solely to the Admiral and his job at Camp Freedom was to maintain perfect security and order.
“That’s one big nigger, huh?” Brody said to Mason, thankfully out of earshot of Mambo.
“Brody, shut the fuck up! End of the world or not, you can’t talk like that,” Mason said, obviously annoyed. Brody rolled his eyes and looked away, smiling.
“Hey Mason,” Brody said, grabbing his arm to hold him back for a second.
“What Brody?” Mason said, starting to get agitated by his companion.
“Um… Have you noticed that, besides the doc that there aren’t any women or girls here?” he said, seriously.
Mason looked down momentarily, in deep thought, before he met Brody’s eyes and said, “You’re right, man. I must’ve counted at least two hundred people here, and they were all men.”
“Let’s go, the Admiral is waiting for you!” Mambo shouted down the stairs, motioning for them to come up and inside.
Mason and Brody walked up the crude wooden stairs into the pilothouse, and saw several people sitting around a large oak table. The Admiral was sitting at the head of the table and motioned them to sit down in the empty chairs.
Mason scanned the table and saw a few familiar faces as Mambo sat down to the right of the Admiral. Cap’n Tony was there, along with Kalen, Maria the doc, and her husband, Jimi, the camp scientist. Cujo noticed his companions were back, and made a quick stop, sniffing Mason’s leg before he landed in Brody’s lap to curl up and fall asleep.
“Thank you for joining us, and I’m glad you’re here,” the Admiral said, cordially. “I’m going to get right to the point. These are dark times, and things as we know them have been irreversibly changed. Mason, what do you
know about the present situation?”
“Uh… Not much, I barely got out of Miami when the Annihilation epidemic began. Last I heard Florida was under Government quarantine and had been marked as a total loss. Cap’n Tony filled me in about the red line and that it was safe here,” Mason answered, honestly.
“Well, unfortunately, that’s not even the half of it. The feeders are the least of our concerns at the present moment. Here is the big picture…” the Admiral said as he unrolled a map of the world.
“Obviously, we are here,” he said, pointing at Florida. “At first the infection was contained in Florida, but, due to our enemies, the infection has spread throughout the States. Our government had pulled almost our entire overseas military resources home to contain and control the outbreak. Once we were at our weakest, the League of Islam rose in the Middle East and took power.
“They are an extreme right wing militant Muslim force. They created a league of Middle Eastern nations that include Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, most of Western Asia, and all of North Africa. They’ve created an alliance with China and North Korea, to divide America almost in half at the Mississippi river, the agreement being that China and North Korea will get all land West of the Mississippi and the League of Islam will have everything East.
“Our enemies waited until we were at our weakest, and then attacked us with operation American Hiroshima. There were two separate waves of nuclear attacks timed several days apart. They wanted to duplicate the American attack on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, and used the same three day interval between the strikes. The damage was colossal, the two waves of attacks destroyed Philadelphia, San Francisco, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston and Washington, D.C. completely, and there are estimates that over four million Americans have been killed.
“This attack destroyed any infrastructure that we had left, and opened the floodgates for the infection to spread and ravage the country. After we were no longer a threat, the League of Islam invaded and decimated Israel. Without our weapons, money and protection they were outnumbered by a hundred to one and fell within days.
Rise of Chaos 2 Page 1