“I’ll meet you guys back at the inn,” Will says. He gives Gunny a quick nod to let him know he’ll be running the show in his absence, then he turns and heads back outside with the captain.
“The shit must have really hit the fan down in El Paso if a private has taken over command of the 1st Armored Division,” I tell Mac.
“No shit,” he agrees.
“What would you expect?” Gunny says. “It’s the Army. Those guys had it too easy.”
Gunny has never liked the Army. Not since he tangled with an Airborne Ranger that he believed to be making eyes at his girl.
Logan pulls out a satellite phone from his bag, powers it on and paces while he waits for the device to get a signal. I watch as he punches the number pad and then places the phone to his ear.
“Jess,” he says. “It’s Logan. I just touched down at Holloman.”
He pauses.
“Who is Jess?” Mac asks.
I shrug.
“Probably his girlfriend,” says Gibby.
“You better check in when you get there, honey,” Mac says in his nagging wife imitation.
“What the fuck is with that man purse?” Gibby asks. “That shit is just wrong.”
“It’s the hottest fashion trend among cocksucking metrosexual douchebags,” says Mac.
“I agree,” Logan says. “We have the surviving Marines of 1st Recon providing personal security for Miss Davies here.”
Logan paces back and forth as he talks with Jess. He is too absorbed in the conversation to notice us making fun of him.
“You guys are terrible,” says Claire.
“What about the doctor?” Logan asks Jess. “Is he cooperating?”
Apparently, Jess isn’t his girlfriend but is involved in this operation somehow.
A thundering explosion outside interrupts the conversation.
“What the fuck was that?” Logan asks us as he holds the phone to his chest.
Another explosion in the distance makes the ground tremble.
“Those are bombs,” says Gunny.
We all walk over to the bay door of the hangar to see smoke drifting up to the sky to the east.
“They’re using the drones,” notes Sarge. “Just like in Nevada.”
“Bombing civilians to save their own asses,” says Mac.
“No everything is fine, Jess,” says Logan. “Just some ordnance going off around here. Yes. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pathetic looking man purse.
“That was my contact in Chicago,” he says. “She is still en route to Great Lakes Naval Base with the doctor, but she should be airborne tomorrow morning.”
“All right then,” says Gunny. “Enough smoking and joking. Let’s escort Miss Davies to her room.”
Fifteen
“If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right across the hall,” Logan says as he opens the door to Claire’s room for her.
“Thank you,” says Claire. “I’ll be fine.”
She closes the door and then Logan turns to Gunny.
“I want two men on that door at all times,” he says.
Gunny doesn’t respond. He just scowls as Logan turns away and enters his own room. The last thing Gunny wants to deal with in a situation like this is some smug Washington asshole telling him how to do his job.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about all of this,” Gunny grumbles. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it up in the hallway.
Gunny is notorious for following his gut. It usually never steers him wrong, whether it is in combat or just in life in general.
“I hear that,” Sergeant Lowe agrees.
The stairwell door opens and Will steps out into the hallway. He looks concerned to see us all standing around, especially since we’re quiet.
“Anything wrong?” he asks.
“No, sir,” says Gunny. He drops his cigarette and stamps it out in the carpet.
“I’m sensing some hesitation,” Will says.
“The situation here seems a little disorganized,” Gunny tells him. “Plus, that agency dick is getting on my nerves already.”
“Duly noted, Gunny,” Will says.
“Who has authority on this operation anyway?” Gunny asks.
“As soon as I get word on that, I’ll let you know, Gunny,” Will says. “For now let’s just try to get along. I think we might have bigger problems here.”
“Army?” Gunny says.
“Yeah,” says the lieutenant. “I was warned off. Apparently they’ve taken exception to the way the Air Force is running things.”
“They planning a coup?” Gunny asks.
Will nods.
“I was assured that if we steer clear of any involvement that we will be allowed to remain on base.”
“What a clusterfuck,” Sergeant Lowe says.
“Are they serious?” asks Mac. “How soon are they talking here?”
“Imminent,” says Will.
“This shit just gets better and better,” I mutter.
“So what are your orders, sir?” Sarge asks.
“Rodriguez,” Will says. “Have your men stay on Miss Davies. Gunny, Lowe, Collins and Jax are with me. We’ll post up by the front doors and keep an eye on things out front.”
“What do we do if the shooting starts, sir?” Sarge asks.
“Keep your heads down and don’t do anything unless Miss Davies is put in the line of fire,” says Will.
“Copy,” says Sarge.
The lieutenant leads the other members of Nightmare Company back to the stairs.
“This is some bullshit,” Gibby says. “You all know that right.”
“You having second thoughts about being here, Corporal?” Sarge asks him.
“No, I’m with you, Sarge,” Gibby says. “I’m just being real right now.”
“Gibby is right,” I say. “Are we just supposed to stand around and let this happen?”
“That’s your orders,” Sarge says. “The lieutenant was clear, so I don’t want to hear about it.”
“The middle of all this,” Mac says. “And people still got to start shit.”
“Mac,” Sarge warns.
“Sorry, sir,” Mac says.
Sarge raps a knuckle on the door and waits for Claire to open it.
“Is something wrong?” she asks.
“No,” Sarge says. “Not yet anyway. But there is a chance you might here some gunfire in the vicinity. If that happens, I want you to take cover in the bathtub and don’t open this door until the shooting stops. Can you do that?”
Claire nods her head and then looks apprehensively around the hallway.
“You’ll be fine,” Sarge says. “You’re safe here.”
She closes the door and we hear the chain locking on the other side.
“What do we do about the agency asshat?” I ask Sarge. “Should we tell him?”
“I’m not under orders to do shit for him,” Sarge says.
It doesn’t take long before gunfire disrupts the relative peace on the base.
Logan whips open the door to his room and steps out into the hallway.
“What is going on out there?” he asks Sarge.
“You might just want to go back in your room,” Sarge tells him.
“What?” Logan says. He balls his hands into fists and puts them on his hips. “Sergeant?”
Sarge remains quiet until another burst of gunfire nearby breaks the silence.
“Fine,” Logan huffs. “I’ll go find out for myself.”
As he turns to leave, the lieutenant returns with the rest of our squad and confirms our suspicions.
“It’s happening,” he says.
“What’s happening?” Logan pleads.
“The Army and the Air Force are having some tactical differences of opinion,” says Will.
“Tactical differences of opinion?” says Logan.
“They’re shooting at each other,” Gunny tr
anslates.
“Fuck,” curses Logan. “We have to try and stop this.”
“I wouldn’t go out there if I was you,” says Will. “We can’t afford to get caught up in the middle of this.”
“We can’t afford not to,” Logan says. “This could put the security of the whole facility in jeopardy.”
The door to the stairwell opens again and Walker appears in the hall holding a rifle. His face is flushed and stricken with a look of panic. We hold our positions outside of Miss Davies’ room.
“Lieutenant,” he says. “We have a problem. They’ve taken over the operations center.”
None of us move.
“Lieutenant!” the officer yells.
“I’m sorry,” says Will.
“The Army just executed the colonel,” the man pleads. “How can you just stand there and do nothing?”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Will says. “We’ve got our orders.”
Walker curses us before returning to the stairwell.
Sporadic gunfire continues outside the inn for the next several minutes. We stand around quietly in the darkened hallway and try not to think about what is going on out there.
“You think they’re going to want us around here after this?” Logan asks.
“I talked to the man in charge of the Army forces,” says Will. “He assured me that we will have no issue if we steer clear of the fray.”
“Yeah?” says Logan. “And what happens if they don’t come out on top? Then what?”
“That won’t happen,” Will says. “They have the upper hand.”
“Jesus,” Logan says. “I sure hope you’re right. Otherwise you just fucked us, Lieutenant, and I will make sure that everyone knows you were complicit in this act of treason.”
“Hey buddy,” Gunny interrupts and grabs the collar of Logan’s shirt into his fist. “Instead of standing around here saying things that might result in me fucking up your face, why don’t you get your goddamn phone out of your little purse and tell your friends to hurry the fuck up so we can get out of this mess.”
Logan nods and mumbles in agreement until Gunny releases him. The agent reaches into his bag and grabs his phone.
The shooting outside tapers off until an eerie silence settles over Holloman. Sarge taps on Claire’s door and waits for her to open it. She pulls it open as far as the chain allows and peers outside.
“All clear,” Sarge tells her.
“What is happening?” she wants to know. “Was it the dead?”
“No,” Sarge tells her. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about. Everything is under control.”
The stairwell doors open at the end of the hall and we all look to see who is coming. Six guys in Army uniforms file into the hallway.
“Stay inside,” Sarge tells Claire as he closes the door again.
The guy leading the squad has a shaved head and a smirk on his face. He walks down the hall with bravado, his rifle propped on his shoulder in an I don’t give a shit fashion.
“Reasoner,” he smiles at the lieutenant.
“Jenson,” Will gives him a nod.
“It’s all taken care of,” Jenson says. “Consider this situation officially unfucked. I appreciate the cooperation, fellas.”
“We’re just trying to do our jobs,” Will says.
“I know it might seem like I’m the bad guy here,” Jensen says. “But I’m not. Those Air Force assholes left us to fend for ourselves down in El Paso when we had to deal with the dead and the fucking cartels from Juarez. They just sat up here watching their own asses.”
“Times are tough everywhere,” Will says.
“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. “I guess they are.”
His eyes scan all of us as he talks, like he is sizing us up.
“You see something you like?” Mac asks him.
“Corporal,” Sarge says. “Watch it.”
“Sorry, sir,” Mac says.
“You better respect the chain of command there, devil dog,” Jenson smirks.
His squad behind him gets a good laugh out of that one. He grabs Mac by the shoulder and jostles him roughly.
“I’m just fucking with you, man,” Jenson says to Mac.
“Is that all?” the lieutenant asks.
“Sure,” says Jenson. “For now.”
His squad turns and begins to make their way to the stairwell again, but Jensen pauses and glances back at us.
“Don’t look so nervous, fellas,” laughs Jensen. “We’re all friends here.”
He leaves the hallway and the door slams shut behind him.
“What a fucking psychopath,” says Sarge.
Sixteen
In the evening, the lieutenant sends our squad out to recon the base a bit more and see if we can requisition some dinner from the mess hall. In the dusky light, the barren desert streets give me an apprehensive feeling.
We cross the road to the Holloman Club and open the door. Inside the darkened bar, ten guys in jeans and t-shirts look up from the beers in their hands and stare at us in the doorway.
“You guys know where we can still grab some grub around here,” Sarge asks the men.
“Not here,” a man with a thick beard says as he pulls a cigar out of his mouth. “Try the commissary.”
“Thanks,” Sarge says.
“You’re with Recon?” he says as we turned to leave.
“That’s right,” Sarge says. “Just flew in yesterday.”
“How’s Miramar handling this?” he asks.
“It’s gone,” Sarge says. “Same as everywhere.”
“Why don’t you boys sit down and have a beer?” he says as he kicks out a chair from the table beside him.
“Maybe another time,” Sarge says.
“Come on,” the man says. “We will probably all be dead in the morning. Might as well.”
Sarge looks at me and I shrug and tilt my head toward the bar. We might as well see what we can learn from this guy about the situation we’re in here.
“I could use a drink,” Mac says.
The four of us walk over and grab some chairs and sit down.
“These miserable drunks already drank most of the good stuff,” he informs us. “There’s plenty of that shitty Mexican beer left though. You’re probably okay with that, right Rodriguez?”
Sarge doesn’t say anything but he gives the man a flat, unamused expression.
“Dolly,” he says. “Get these fellas four shitty Mexican beers.”
A middle-aged woman with long blonde hair comes out from behind the bar with four bottles in her hand and sets them down on the table.
“Drink up,” the man says. “It’s on the house.”
I pick up the bottle and take a swig of warm beer. They really did give us the cheap shit. I cringe as I swallow it down and set the bottle back on the table.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Sarge says.
“Rhodes,” the man says. “You can just call me Trevor.”
“So, what’s the word?” Sarge asks Rhodes.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” says Rhodes. “Most of us haven’t heard shit since this all started. It’s been one long nightmare down here. So, when you got here I had to wonder what the hell anyone would want to come here for.”
“We’re escorting a civilian scientist,” Sarge says. “She might be able to figure out how we turn the tide against these things.”
“That so?” says Rhodes. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest.
Sarge nods.
“So,” Rhodes says. “In spite of everything you boys are still running around trying to save the world. Doesn’t that seem kind of, I don’t know, pointless. No offense.”
“Just doing our jobs,” Sarge says.
“Under whose authority are you operating?” Rhodes asks.
“Washington,” Sarge says. “Straight from the Pentagon.”
“Hell, we haven’t had radio contact with Washington since Monday. No official word fr
om anywhere, other than NORAD. That place is still a fortress. The rest of the people we have heard from that are surviving out there are just a few well-prepared civilians.”
“So you all just figured to hell with your oath to protect the country,” Mac says. He takes a swig from his bottle and swipes his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform.
“More like we decided it was time to start looking out for each other,” says Rhodes. He peels the label off his beer, leaving little bits of paper on the table beside it.
“It’s all subjective,” Mac says.
“You can say that,” Rhodes says. “Our government didn’t do shit to help us down in El Paso. We were already on our own before we realized it. You are, too. All of you. Whether you want to believe it or not. Just because you still wear the uniform doesn’t mean it stands for much anymore.”
“I think I’d rather keep trying to do something instead of sitting around on my ass,” I tell him.
Rhodes smirks and shakes his head.
“I can respect that you’re loyal to your brothers,” says Sarge. “That’s understandable. If you’re all okay with Jenson calling the shots, good luck with that.”
“You think it’s just us?” he laughs. “Wake the fuck up, Sergeant.”
“What do you mean?” Sarge asks.
“We’ve been in contact with dozens of militias across the country. Texas, Montana, Missouri... a whole network of highly-trained military are working together. They’re the ones that are going to survive this thing because they realize the government has failed to adequately invest in our civil defense for decades. If you think the United States is going to come out on top, you got it wrong.”
I can’t really argue with his reasoning. I take another sip of the beer and set it back down on the table. Maybe we shouldn’t be putting our asses on the line, but it is what we are trained to do.
“Thanks for the beer,” Sarge says.
He sets the empty bottle down and gets up from the table. He makes a circle with his finger to tell us to get moving.
“Let’s go check out the commissary,” Sarge says to us.
We follow Sarge through the front doors and into the hot desert night. As we walk up the road, we hear the crackle of small arms fire several blocks away. None of us even react to the sound. It’s been pretty much continual for the past couple of hours.
ROTD (Book 3): Rage of the Dead Page 10