The Pirates of the Apocalypse

by J. B. Craig

  “I see,” Kirwan said. “I’m sure we can work something out. How far do you need to go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “It’s directly across the Potomac,” Bannon said. “If our boat hadn’t taken on water, we’d have been there already. We probably have under twenty nautical miles to go, even counting the twists and turns up the channel.”

  “It’d be a day’s sail, but a lot longer over land, and through rougher territory,” Maria agreed. “Not that we aren’t willing to do it, but we’d rather play it safe if we can, even if that means a bit of a wait.”

  “I wish I could help you out more,” Kirwan said. “Even if it was just to pass you through - but unfortunately, all of our sailors are using their boats to fish and crab, and the ones who can’t sail are learning to do all three. Besides that, we may be in for a long few nights - it’s a good thing Jones sent you.” Looking at the trio, he asked, “You kids look pretty tired. When’s the last time you slept?”

  “I got a solid ten hours last night - Ban and Pete split watch, and got...five or six?” she guessed, the two nodding confirmation. “But we’ve done more with less. We should be fine.”

  “Understood,” Kirwan said. “Young man, you said you were a medic?”

  “I am,” Pete agreed. “Where do you want me?”

  “I’ll have you report to the infirmary, please. I’m afraid they’re about to be under-staffed, and we’ll likely need your skills tonight. You’ll find it next to Justin Hall - Maria and Bannon, I’ll ask you to find someone in Justin to assign you both a dorm room. Get a few hours’ rest, and then report to Spencer.” With a shrug, he said, “Spencer trusts you enough to leave you your weapons and ammunition - I’ll do the same. I don’t suppose you have any to spare?”

  “Actually,” Bannon said, exchanging a glance with Maria. “I’m more of a knife guy, and Pete’s been assigned to medical duties nearly everywhere we’ve been, and we’re a short distance from home. We can give you guys some of our 9mm.”

  “I’ll need at least one full kit for mine, but I can spare some 5.56 as well,” Maria agreed. “If we end up needing to travel longer on foot, we may need to lighten our packs a bit. Might as well put them in the hands of our defenders.”

  “Outstanding. That’s the first good news I’ve heard all day,” Kirwan said, smiling brightly. “If you’re willing to leave what you can spare with our Corporal at the front door, I’ll try to have him figure out a solution for getting you all across the water eventually. And,” he continued, “If time allows, I would welcome you to sit with us at the officer’s table for dinner. I would be interested to hear about your travels.”

  “That would be great,” Maria said. “Thank you very much for the invitation.”

  “Of course. Now,” Kirwan continued, “If you’ll excuse me - my second-in-commands are waiting on some logistical decisions from me, and I need to deliver.”

  They stood, each of them shaking the Commandant’s hand. After they pared down their ammo, they headed over to Justin Hall - Pete to the infirmary wing, Maria and Ban to the lodging quarters- for some introductions and some well-earned rest.

  27. The Locust Swarm

  Bannon was rudely awoken around sunset to the sound of gunfire and explosions. He rolled out of bed and woke his cousin. “Weapons and ammo, Captain,” he said. “Follow me and stay close.”

  In seconds, the pair were running out the door. As they ran in the direction of the noise, Bannon pulled a camo stick out of his pants pocket, tossing it to Maria. “Use the dark end on anything that sticks out to make it less noticeable - nose, cheekbones,” he explained. “It’s called a camo stick. The hollows of your eyes, underneath your nose and bottom lip - use the light side on those.”

  As they jogged up the campus green, camouflaged and ready to go, they could see students streaming out ahead of them, running to defend the campus. The northern entrance to the football stadium seemed to be the one getting bombarded, and Bannon and Maria raced to the barricade wall.

  A student in one of the sniper nests got hit in the chest and fell to the tower floor. Maria raced up the ladder - presumably, she’d stay there. Bannon knew that a sniper’s position suited her better than his preferred ground combat; after her injury she hadn’t gotten back enough stamina to be much of a runner, but she was a good shot at long distances.

  He cast his gaze briefly around for Pete, but knew he’d likely be in the infirmary taking care of wounded behind the front lines. As he raced into the gate, his loaded M16 and two more full magazines rattling around in his pockets, he headed for Sergeant Spencer. With one last look back at the nests, he could see Maria’s determined face, sighting in on the treeline as she began to snipe the Locusts with double-taps.

  “Sarge,” Bannon called, throwing a hand up as he skidded to a stop. “If you know about the Dragons, you know I need to flank these fuckers. What’s the best way out and around them?”

  Sarge nodded and held up his hand, signaling him to wait. He yelled up to one of the snipers. “Appleton! You watch that road, and when they get in the kill zone, blow it.” Appleton didn’t even take his eyes off the road - he simply gave a thumbs-up and chambered another round in his rifle.

  Sarge then looked across to the other tower flanking the gate. “Williams, you watch beside the road,” he called. “Thin them out. We want to drive them into our line of sight, which means they need to hit asphalt.”

  Williams fired his rifle. “You mean like that, Sarge?” he said with a grin - and then was shot in the side of the head as he’d turned to rattle off his last quip, toppling off the tower.

  “Goddamnit!” Spencer roared. He grabbed Bannon and spun him towards the southeastern gate of the stadium. “That way. Call sign ‘High Chair’, response ‘Red Tail’. Tell them to let you out and cover you. Flank these fucks and kill them all!” Then Sergeant Spencer climbed the sniper tower, grabbed the deer rifle, and started shooting.

  Bannon climbed up behind Sarge, dropped off two magazines and tapped Spencer on the leg. He handed up his loaded M16, too. “Here. You’ll do more good with this than I will. I have my pistol and knife.” Spencer took the M16 without comment, and started shooting, one-shot, one-kill style as Bannon raced for the Eastern gate.

  Upon reaching the gate, Bannon found the snipers there pointed northeast, trying to help out their fellow students-in-arms. One looked down at him and swung her rifle towards him.

  “High Chair,” Bannon yelled, holding his open hands up in front of his face. She swung her rifle away and back to the North, firing again. “What’s the best way over the wall?”

  “Come up here,” she called. “It’s a long way down, though, and I don’t know why you want out there.”

  As Bannon climbed her tower, he replied. “So that I can kill those bastards from behind. Don’t shoot me, okay? Pass it on.” He smiled his 1000-watt smile, and she smiled back.

  “I won’t shoot you - but you should come back and introduce yourself properly,” she said. “Just ask for Kelly O’Keefe.” She fired another round, and a man coming out of the wood line on the north dropped.

  “Nice shooting, Kelly O’Keefe. I’ll buy you breakfast, if you’ll allow me the honor.” With that, Bannon dropped over the edge, hung from the wall, and climbed down the nearly sheer wall-face. It was one of the toughest climbs he’d ever done, even with his climbing experience and time with the Dragons - he dug his fingers painfully into the mortar, or on an occasional brick edge.

  When it was safe, he dropped the last few feet and gave Kelly a cheeky salute, who looked suitably impressed. Then he ran quietly into the woods, his pistol in his left hand and his Buck knife in the right.

  Bannon could tell where the ‘Locusts’ were simply by listening. They were lousy in the woods and were yelling questions and orders to each other. He crept along, following the noise until he was sure he was behind the last of the attackers. Then, he rolled up the flank...one stab at a time. He could tell when he was getting close
to a new victim by the stench. He thought that their attackers may not have bathed since the lights went out.

  Still, his knife parted the crust on their clothes well enough, and he killed at least twenty of them silently, most with slit throats, a few to the kidneys and heart. He left a trail of carnage through the woods on the eastern side of the roadway entrance to the college.

  When he was sure the eastern side of the woods were clear, he darted across the road to clear out the few remaining Locusts that he could hear over there. As he was halfway across the road, Appleton, the scout in the sniper tower, blew the furthest IED from the gate. Bannon felt himself being lifted from the road, then a chunk of concrete punched him in the ribs, smashing several of them. Smaller bits of concrete hit him in the face and leg, spinning him through the air. After what felt like an eternity later, Bannon landed hard on his back, hitting his head on the road, and everything went black.

  28. Healing

  Maria, who was covering the west side of the road and gate, kept her head down low and shot at anything that moved in the forest. As the attackers died, some so close to the wall that she could tell the color of their eyes, she noticed a slacking of activity to her right, or East. She thought to herself that Bannon was earning another group of sleepless nights. She had taken a moment about 20 minutes ago, ducking and reloading, to look East. She saw him climb a tower and go over the wall by the right flank.

  As the intensity of the attack slowed down, she heard a tremendous explosion on the road, but was too busy picking off the last of the strays to worry much about it. Finally, there was no more activity in the wood line, and she couldn’t hear the Locusts moving or shouting orders any longer. She kept her eyes above the wall and scanned left and right, hoping that anyone left would run away. Killing, when necessary was something she’d come to understand. Dying unnecessarily was something that she would never understand.

  After several minutes of silence, she heard someone to her East outside the wire call for a medic. After the third yell of “Medic!”, she recognized Sergeant Spencer’s voice, and slid down the ladder, running to the field hospital. She grabbed Pete and said, “We need you outside the wire. Follow me. The two friends ran quickly to the gate, where Appleton was keeping guard from his tower. He pointed down the road weakly and stuttered “Ou-Out there.”

  The two friends ran down the road to where Sergeant Spencer and a red-headed female soldier were bent over a casualty, putting pressure on wounds. When they saw Pete, they waved him over, and Sergeant Spencer got up and walked to Maria. “Maria. There was a mistake. Your cousin is fucked up, but he’ll live if Pete is any good.”

  Maria nodded and moved past him to look at Bannon, who was indeed truly messed up. His head was bleeding, and his leg looked broken, but Pete was concentrating on his chest. Pete said “Maria, we need to prevent a collapsed lung. Help me.” He was not panicking. He was in the zone, but the look in his eye was of pure anguish.

  Some shrapnel made a hole in his chest and lungs. He reached in his bag and pulled open a sterile bag. “I’m putting on this chest seal. It won’t let air in but will let it out. If too much air gets between the chest wall and his lungs, his lung could collapse. I need you to watch his respiration and keep an eye on his chest to make sure one side isn’t bigger than the other. Sarge, get me a stretcher while I look at his head wound. You, with the red hair - bind up that leg wound. It’s not the worst, but we don’t want him bleeding out.”

  “My name is Kelly O’Keefe, and we can’t let that happen. This ladykiller and I are supposed to have breakfast together.” Kelly expertly removed her combat dressing from the belt at her waist, and wrapped the leg wound tightly. “Doesn’t look broken down here, it’s straight, but bleeding. Probably a bruised shin bone. There’s a lump down here. Poor guy - that’s gonna hurt. What’s his name? We didn’t have time for a proper introduction.”

  Maria, who was checking her cousin’s pulse and looking at his chest looked up at Kelly. “He’ll make your breakfast date, Kelly. He’s the strongest guy I know. His name is Bannon, and he’s my cousin. He may need some rest first, but he’ll make breakfast someday soon. I have no doubt.”

  Kelly moved up Bannon’s body, and looked at Maria with wide open blue eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like what he did. He rolled up the right flank by himself, and never fired a shot. He walked into the woods, and it just got quiet, from right to left. I mean, I shot a bunch, too… But Bannon was like a ghost.”

  “Probably not the best choice of words right now.” Maria corrected sternly.

  “Oh shit! I’m sorry. He’s going to be OK. He climbed down the wall with his fingertips. Who does that?!”

  “Bannon was a rock climber before the lights went out,” Maria explained. “If anyone can make it through this, he can.”

  About that time, Appleton came over carrying a stretcher. “Sarge sent me over with this. He says I get to carry the guy since I blew him up.”

  Maria stood up, unfolding from the ground like the coiled athlete that she was - and her fist followed her torso. It gained momentum from the ground to the six feet height where his jaw started. She punched Appleton in the “off button”, as her Dad called it, and he unfolded slowly to the ground towards Pete. Kelly looked up at Maria with wide eyes. “Damn, girl,” she said appreciatively.

  Pete watched Appleton, measuring his trajectory as he stuck his leg out giving a soft-ish landing on this thigh so that Appleton didn’t bust his head on the concrete. Then he pulled his leg back, and Appleton head did hit the ground a bit. Pete laughed while he finished bandaging Bannon. “He’s ready to move, Captain Maria. You girls grab a handle each on the front, and I’ll take the back. I can send someone back for this ass-hat.”

  Kelly said, “He’s not a bad guy. He was just a freshman when this happened, and he comes all the way from California. He’s not the best soldier, but he shows up on time, and in the right uniform every day. I’ll send someone back and check on him if he’s not awake in a bit. Where’d you learn to hit like that?”

  “My Dad is a soldier. He taught me how to hit when we took Tae Kwon Do together. I may have been a little hasty, but I couldn’t stop myself. He hurt my Cuz.”

  “I’m sure it was an accident,” Kelly said dryly.

  “It actually was! Otherwise, he’d be dead,” Maria acknowledged with a grin, patting her SOG blade. “Let’s get to the infirmary, then you can send someone to check on Private Ass-Hat.”

  29.5 - Post Traumatic Math Disorder

  Maria had nearly fallen asleep in her waiting chair when Pete emerged from the infirmary. “Pete, how is he?” she asked eagerly, heart in her throat.

  “He isn’t out of the woods yet,” Pete said. “So keep your fingers crossed - but I think he’ll be okay.”

  According to Pete, Bannon’s lung would most likely be fine thanks to their emergency patch. He was more concerned about his head wound - he had a shallow gash on the back of his head, and Pete thought it was likely that he’d either hit his head falling or had been struck by some of the debris. Fortunately, his pupils were responsive, so it was unlikely that he would have more than a bad concussion.

  As Pete finished delivering his diagnosis, Maria heaved a grateful sigh. “Thank goodness,” she said. Kelly, sitting next to her, leaned over to give her a relieved smile and a hug. She’d joined Maria in the ‘waiting room’ - also known as a hallway with two desk chairs pushed out of empty dorm rooms - and Maria had been pleasantly surprised by her dedication to her little cousin. Apparently, Ban’s battlefield ‘love-at-first-sight’ seemed to have been mutual.

  Maria would’ve been left alone to wait for Bannon if not for Kelly, doggedly standing by - Pete was busy continuing to treat patients with increasingly minor scrapes and lacerations, and Spencer seemed to be needed everywhere at once. Kelly, even after Pete had pronounced that Bannon would recover, had decided to stick around and support Maria as they waited for him to be visitation-ready.

  Kelly,
a senior and one of Spencer’s senior ROTC students, radiated social grace and confidence. She seemed to have a wide circle of friends on campus - person after person expressed how glad they were to see that she was okay, and asked who she was in the infirmary to see. But she also didn’t seem to mind Maria’s more reserved nature, and was perfectly happy to occasionally keep up Maria’s end of the conversation. They had done their best to keep themselves out of despair together, chatting about everything from favorite books to the first thing they would do if the power came back on. She had a feisty sense of humor and would swear like a sailor the second anyone jostled Bannon’s bed. As the women got to know each other and became good friends, Maria thought that - assuming Ban was well enough to take Kelly up on sharing a meal together soon - Kelly and Ban could turn out to be pretty perfect for each other.

  Two days after the battle, Maria had been about to head out and get some food for Pete, Kelly, and herself when a sleepy groan stopped her in her tracks. Pete, who was tending to a shoulder wound in the next bunk, came over at the sound of Bannon’s voice, and Kelly sat up eagerly from her bedside post. “If this is Heaven,” Bannon croaked, “I hope the water is as good as the angel next to me.”