We Are The Wolf: Wolfpack Book 1

by Toby Neighbors

  "Your funeral," Adkins said as Dean lowered himself onto the shield.

  "This is how we get it done back home, boys!" Dean shouted as he pushed himself onto the down slope.

  The ridge was covered in loose shale and dirt. It was steep, and the loose rock would have made marching down incredibly difficult. There were spots that angled down sharply. The first one Dean hit made him feel as if he were going to go flying off the ridge altogether. The shield lifted up for a moment, then crashed back down. Dean was partly terrified, but also exhilarated by the feeling of such rapid progress. After the long hike across the desert and up the ridge, the thrill of racing down the hillside made Dean shout in exaltation.

  When he got near the bottom he saw how the shale leveled out, which was a relief since the shield would slide right across the top of the rock fragments. But then the valley turned to hard pan and bedrock, angling up a little. It took all of Dean's balance to keep from toppling over as the shield suddenly slowed on the rougher terrain. When the shield stopped, Dean got quickly to his feet. His legs were trembling, but he did his best to look excited as he shouted into his comm link.

  "That's what I'm talking about!" he said. "That was awesome! Who's next?"

  The trainees, doubtful at first, began to argue over who would be next to follow Dean down the mountainside.

  Chapter 19

  Adkins was the last HA trainee to sled down the ridge. The others had been shaky, and a few had toppled off their shields at the bottom, but so far no one was hurt, and the entire descent had taken less than half an hour. Adkins groaned in terror as his huge bulk slid down the mountain. Dean wisely cut off the trainee's group link so that no one else heard the big man crying out in fear. Dean wasn't sure if the big man was scared of heights, or just a coward in general, but he didn't think it would help morale for the other members of his squad to hear him squealing.

  The big man hit the bottom of the hill and nearly flipped over, but managed to right himself on the shield just in time. Dean gave the big man a thumbs up when he looked around at the other trainees who were cheering for him.

  "I cut your audio feed," Dean said. "Good job on the descent, Adkins."

  The big man nodded and Dean reconnected the hulking trainee to the rest of the group.

  "That was some bad ass shit!" Jenkins shouted. "I want to do it again!"

  "Not this trip," Dean said. "Let's get going. That stream is less than an hour's march."

  "Sledding down a mountain," Raines said. "This is the best damn job in the world!"

  They took turns helping each other reattach the big shields, which were stained with dirt and dark streaks from the shale, but otherwise fully intact. Once the shields were back in place, the squad set out again. The trail meandered around the bottom of even larger ridges and through the shadow of one towering peak that leaned precariously over the valley. Dean was thankful for the shade, his battle helmet was beginning to feel like a solar oven.

  They passed the first trail marker just as they crossed into the third hour of their hike and already Dean could hear the roar of the white water rapids ahead of them. When they reached the river, Dean called for a break and let everyone fill their canteens with water. The canteens had a built in filter feature that only required the trainees to shake the water in their containers for thirty seconds to remove any contamination. Dean took a long swig from his canteen and nearly spit the water out. It wasn't tainted, just warmer than Dean had expected. The water was almost hot, despite the way it was rushing through the riverbed. Still, it was wet and he forced himself to drink more without complaining. The trainees were looking at their water with distaste, but then followed Dean's lead.

  "I'm going across," Dean said. "There's no way to know how deep the river is otherwise."

  "You could drown in your armor," Adkins said.

  "That's why I'm taking it off. I'm a decent swimmer, if I go down in the water I should be okay."

  "We've got paracord," Jenkins said. "Take one end with you and we'll have a life line when we cross in our armor."

  "That's a good plan," Dean said.

  He took one end of Jenkins' sturdy cord and, after shrugging off his armor, waded out into the water. It felt as if he were climbing into the hot tub with Miranda all over again. He wished he were with her, but he also had to admit that the field exercise was turning out to be a fun adventure. The current was strong and the riverbed was full of round stones that gave his boots very little traction. He stumbled twice, falling into the abnormally warm water. By the time he was on the far side he was completely soaked and certain that he would have been in trouble if he had been wearing his armor. Walking in the heavy suit of metal was difficult enough, but falling into the water he was certain the metal would have held him down, and the big shield would have swept him down the river in the current.

  "Alright," Dean said, once he tied the paracord to a boulder so that the line was taunt. "Come across, but move slow. It's slick."

  The other men followed. They used the cord and their strength to keep them upright. Once more Adkins was the last one across, and he carried Dean's armor under his free arm. Dean wasn't sure what frightened him more, being in the big man's debt or losing his armor, but Adkins didn't fall, nor did he seem put out for having to carry the extra weight. In fact, he acted almost as if the chore was a privilege.

  "Here's your armor, LT," he said.

  Dean thanked the trainee and suited up. According to his chrono, they had several hours of daylight left. They marched straight on until it was too dark to see and above them the stars seemed abnormally close through the mountain peaks.

  "No chow I'm afraid," Dean said. "But we've covered more than twenty clicks today. At this rate will be home in three more days, but if we push ourselves I bet we can do better than that."

  The trainees all nodded in agreement. They were hungry and tired, but they, just like Dean, wanted to please their instructors. Finishing the field exercise was a high priority for them all.

  "I'll take first watch," Dean said.

  The others fell asleep in their armor, stretched out on the ground. Dean wasn't looking forward to trying to rest in his armor. Just wearing the heavy suit on their journey in the transport was uncomfortable enough, but he was so tired he didn't think he would have any trouble sleeping. Instead he kept watch until the three-hour timer on his battle helmet beeped at him. It was 2300 hours and the sun would rise in six hours, still, it was more than enough sleep to keep him going.

  The squad stood watch in groups of three, after Dean's shift ended. He slept soundly, despite the armor and the lack of bedding. Fatigue was the ultimate sedative. Dean's wrist link vibrated at 0500 and he slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking around. The sky was pink, but the shadows of the mountains made the countryside gloomy. Clouds were rolling in, and Dean could only hope that meant cooler temperatures. It was almost cold in the desert after sundown, but in their armor the trainees stayed warm. What they didn't have was a way to cool themselves in the heat of the day.

  "Alright squad, shake off the kinks, it's time to move out."

  There was grumbling to Dean's orders but the trainees obeyed. Dean knew they were accustomed to rising early and working hard, but he could also see that the lack of protein was having a profound effect on his squad.

  "Today we find food," Dean said. "Fasting is for the birds."

  "You can say that again," Raines said.

  "Amen to that," Johnson said.

  "Let's go," Dean ordered.

  The trainees slipped their canteens back into the slot in their armor and set out again. The terrain was rough, up and down, through the meandering pass that took them out of the mountains. By noon they were clear of the towering row of rugged mountains, but the sky had become overcast and rain was starting to fall.

  Their battle helmets had large face shields that looked like glass, although it was actually a transparent polymer that was as strong as steel and coated with
a wax that made the rain bead up and roll off their visors without impairing their vision. They were over halfway to their objective when late afternoon became a slogging march through wet sand that clung to their boots and made marching even more tiresome. Dean called a halt early when they found a patch of Tepary beans. Dean knew nothing about the local flora, but his helmet identified the beans as edible food, instructing him to pick the pods, squeeze out the beans, and boil them in water.

  Water was now the one thing they had in abundance, and even though they were able to pick the beans, there was nothing to burn and no container to boil the beans in. The only solution was to eat the beans raw, which was far from ideal but the squad was so hungry they ate the beans without complaint. They were firm, with a texture almost like peanuts, but quickly turned to mush once Dean began to chew them. They tasted almost like peas, but with an unpleasant bitter aftertaste. Still, it was food, and surprisingly enough once Dean's stomach was full he felt much better.

  They pushed on after the sun went down, using the lights on their battle helmets to light the way. The battery on their armor was rated at a full seven days between charges, but Dean rotated their helmet light usage so that there was only one on in the front and one in the rear, while they marched in the darkness.

  The compass in Dean's battle helmet showed him the way, with the navigation program marking their progress. The rain continued to fall, pelting the squad with fat drops and making the ground so soft the dirt began to suck at their feet.

  At midnight they stopped and slept, opting for one man watches rotating every hour. Dean doubted that they would be in danger during the downpour and even with their helmet lamps they could barely see ten feet in the darkness. So they all took a turn standing watch while the rest of the squad slept and in the morning Dean noticed they had just under twenty clicks to their objective.

  "Twenty clicks, gentlemen," Dean said happily. "Chew your beans while we walk. We're going home today."

  The squad cheered and Dean felt a wave of relief at having successfully brought his men across the desert in what had to be record time. There was nothing to obstruct their march and while they were still hungry and tired, the trainees could easily march the remaining twelve miles to their objective. That notion quickly turned sour as they began to walk toward their destination. The rain was still falling softly, which shouldn't have been an issue, only the ground had become so soft that their feet were sinking down into the mushy soil. After an hour of walking, they were all exhausted and feeling hopeless. They hadn't even been able to progress a mile, and the ground was getting softer and softer. With each step their feet sank into the sand almost to their knees and it was obvious that they couldn't continue. But worse still, if they didn't turn back, Dean feared they might get helplessly mired in the soft sand.

  "Maybe we should have gone around this bog," Jenkins said. "We couldn't really see it last night."

  "Is it a bog?" Raines asked. "Or is this just what the desert does when it rains."

  "I didn't think it was supposed to rain in the desert," Johnson said.

  "It doesn't rain often," Dean said, "but sometimes it rains in the desert. I think we may be in trouble."

  "This is just some damn, bad luck," Wong said. He was the quietest member of the squad and shorter than the others, but just as powerfully built.

  "Maybe," Dean said. "Or maybe they knew it was going to rain out here and that's why they ordered this exercise. There has to be a way to get past this."

  "So think of something, LT," Adkins said. "Build us a bridge to get out of this place."

  Dean felt a glimmer of an idea forming, but he couldn't grasp it all yet. He let the others keep talking while he thought about what Adkins had said. A bridge, that was the idea. In deep snow Dean had used snow shoes that dispersed his weight so that he could stay on top of deep snow and travel much easier and more quickly. But nothing in their armor could be used like a snow shoe.

  Then it hit him, the idea popping into his head as if someone was whispering it into his ear. A shield bridge, he thought. That was a great idea, but he had to test it first.

  "Adkins," Dean said. "Take off your shield again."

  "You got an idea, Lieutenant?" the big man said with a grin.

  Dean had given up correcting the squad. He wasn't their lieutenant, he hadn't even been commissioned yet, but they thought of him that way and there was no value in correcting them constantly.

  "Maybe," Dean said. "If it works I'll explain it."

  Adkins unbolted his large, rectangular shield and handed it to Dean, who laid it on the ground.

  "Get on the shield, Adkins. You too, Johnson."

  The men were big, Dean guessed they were pushing 280 pounds each. The shield sank a little, but not much, even with their combined weight.

  "Hot damn!" Dean said. "This just might work."

  "We can't sled across the desert, sir," Jenkins said.

  "No, we don't need to. It was Adkins’ idea. We'll build a bridge," Dean explained. "We line up the shields in a straight line then walk across them."

  "But that's only going to get us 15 feet or so," Raines said.

  "Yes, but it’s a moving bridge," Dean said. "Here's how it works. We each take our shields and line up. There's enough room for two men on each shield, so we use the first four to stand on, and then we lay the next one down. The man in the back picks up the last shield as he moves off of it and then passes it to the front of the line."

  "Oh, shit," Jenkins said. "That's genius."

  "Will it really work?" Johnson said.

  "It should," Dean said. "It won't be as fast as a regular march, but it’ll be much faster than slogging through this muck. Let's get the shields off our backs and start moving."

  The squad sprang into action. They lined up, laid down the shields and started moving. Johnson started at the rear, bending low and picking up the shield was strenuous. The mud sucked at the metal, but the trainees were strong. They hoisted the large rectangles of hydrogen-titanium alloy and kept the squad moving. Every fifteen minutes Dean rearranged the line, letting the men in the back move to the front where the work was easiest. They shared the burden of lifting the heavy steel like a flock of geese slipping from the vanguard to the rear of their V formation when the lead bird grew too tired to break the trail.

  Dean struggled more than the others. Their shields were heavier than his own, and he was strong, but didn't have the regimen of muscle-building supplements the rest of the squad had been on since the beginning of their training. Still, he refused to let the others take up his slack. They had to slow down when he took his fifteen-minute shift at the rear, but none of them complained.

  Slowly they traversed the huge bog and as the sun began to sink in the west, the ground turned to stony hardpan and they were able to finish the last mile at a fast walk with their armor back in place. Dean saw the transport when they were less than a mile from the glowing beacon in his battle helmet that marked the end of the line. He was tired, but he still wanted to run to the end. The squad was excited too. They were talking about what they were going to eat when they got back to Coronado and they were excited to share the story of their field exercise, especially sledding down the ridge.

  But all of that stopped when the transport that waited to take them home suddenly exploded in a bright ball of flame.

  Chapter 20

  "What the hell?" Raines exclaimed.

  "Oh God! Oh, my God!" Adkins said, his voice pinched with terror.

  Flaming wreckage was crashing into the ground and all the HA trainees looked with horror at the destruction. Dean wrenched himself from the shock he felt and the terror clawing at his mind.

  "Concave formation!" he shouted. "Move, move, move!"

  The trainees instantly organized in an arching defensive perimeter between Dean and the burning ship.

  "What should we do, LT? We don't have guns!"

  "You have computer-assisted aiming," Dean snarled. "Use it to find
out who the hell is attacking us."

  "I've got bogies on that butte," Jenkins said. "Looks like snipers."

  "And enemy troops on the ground," Wong said. "Maybe half a dozen? With shoulder-propelled missiles."

  Dean stared through the haze of smoke, his head just barely above the protective shields of Adkins and Johnson at the center of the HA trainee line. He could see movement, then muzzle flashes from the plateau.

  "Incoming!" Dean shouted, dropping to his knees.

  Fifty caliber slugs impacted the shields with metal pings that reminded Dean of watching his father hit golf balls.

  "Holly shit! They're shooting at us," Jenkins screamed.

  "Can that chatter!" Dean said. "We hold this position, no matter what. It's what we're trained to do."

  "What if they flank us?" Raines said.

  "I'm on the lookout for that," Dean said. "So far there's no movement on our six. Calling for help on the emergency channel now."

  Dean toggled open the command frequency in his battle helmet, which automatically muted his squad. The bullets continued to rain down, forcing Dean to stay close to the others. He didn't dare raise his head above the protection of the Heavy Armor shields again.

  "Command this is Ensign Blaze on field exercises. We have enemy fire. Repeat, we have enemies firing on our position. The transport is destroyed and we have no weapons, over."

  "Copy that ensign, please await orders, over."

  "Roger Command, awaiting instruction, over."

  "We have another transport inbound, but you've got to clear that LZ. Get to the top of the plateau, and ensure that the transport takes no enemy fire. We can't risk losing another ship out there, over."

  "Command, we have no weapons!" Dean said frantically. "I repeat, we have no weapons, please advise, over."

  "You're Recon, ensign," came a gruff voice over the command frequency. "You find a way to fight back, or we won't bother bringing you home. ETA is thirty minutes. You better think of something, ensign. Command out."

  "Shit!" Dean shouted, just as his squad comm link toggled back on.