The Pirates of the Apocalypse

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The Pirates of the Apocalypse Page 20

by J. B. Craig


  She took a relieved, steadying breath as Bannon surfaced and risked a quick thumbs-up, letting her know that he was okay. He then swam deeper into the river towards a second incoming boat, this time a sailboat. After a while, she lost sight of him again, but knew that he could handle himself if she could keep everyone on board distracted. She aimed for the starboard side of the invaders’ boat as it came into her line of fire - carefully, as she didn’t want to risk shooting her cousin and facing Kelly’s wrath after she returned from her northeastern guard post.

  As the boat sailed closer, Maria got a few hits on the men on the front deck. Their fire was concentrated on the top of the library, so she ducked and moved to another structure on top. They were better-equipped than the first boat had been, judging by the rapid sound of bullets striking the roof. When they came within effective range of her, Maria stopped firing and looked on as Bannon vaulted himself from the swim platform he’d dragged himself up to right onto the back deck of the sailboat. First, he stabbed the man at the wheel in the kidney, his hand over the man’s mouth to muffle any noise he made. When he finally quieted, Bannon laid him down on the deck - and gave up on stealth entirely as he walked up the middle of the cabin top, shooting enemy sailors left and right. By the time the rest of the crew knew what was going on, there were only three men left at the bow, who all turned around to shoot Bannon with their rifles. He took four steps away, using the bulk of the mast and boom as cover. One more step back and he dropped down into the cabin as Maria unloaded multiple rounds into the guys on the bow. Only one made it to the cabin. She hoped Bannon was okay.

  After about twenty seconds of gunfire and screaming, Bannon emerged from the small cabin door and waved the all-clear to his cousin on the roof. He crouched down over one of the corpses on the deck, and Maria wondered for a moment what he was doing before she realized that he was wiping it clean of blood. Then he returned it to the sheath at his back and took up the captain’s post, steering the boat towards the beach. As it got close, he cut the lines holding up the sails and levered himself overboard as it beached, using the momentum of the boat to land back into the water. Flashing a smile, he pointed to her, pointed at the boat, and made a little heart shape with his fingers - apparently, he thought she’d love the boat. Maria laughed - if she’d realized it was going to be a present, maybe she’d have shot it up a bit less.

  Bannon waded up onto the shore, and then headed back to the east side, no doubt going to check up on his sweetheart. Maria decided to maintain her vigil on the roof for at least another few minutes, making sure no one got past her by sea.

  Though she maintained her post for a while, but she didn’t see any more attacks coming. In the meantime, the Commandant appeared to have stationed several students up on the rooftops surrounding the riverside area. Once she saw that at least one person had a grenade launcher under their rifle, she felt free to climb down from her own post. She knew that Pete, Kelly and Bannon were likely in the thick of the firefight, and she was anxious to check on them. As she exited the library, she could hear several explosions to the southeast, so she headed in that direction.

  32. Field-Expedient

  The invaders on the sailboat were mostly dead now, but some of the people on the front had AKs, which beat pistol in rock-paper-scissors. Bannon took a step backwards and tuck-rolled into the cabin with a twinge of pain to his ribs. Every time one of them shot through the cabin roof, it pissed him off more. He wanted this boat - it would get them home to Rock Harbor without having to earn it or steal it. This was war booty, and they were punching holes in his booty.

  ‘Fortunately,’ Bannon thought, ‘Not my literal booty.’ He smiled at his own pun, and stayed ducked under the galley table, which would likely stop most of the rounds.

  One of the men came into the boat and sprayed his rifle from left to right at chest level, punching more holes in Ban’s present. When he was within reach, Bannon dove out and sliced his Achilles tendon. He fell with a shout of surprise - Bannon quickly leapt on him and cut his throat. He considered taking his AK, but decided to stick with his preferred weapons of choice. It would still be nice to have as a spare - maybe a present for Pete, who was still carrying his 9mm pistol, or maybe for Maria, who was comfortable with a range of weapons.

  With enough dead on deck, they’d certainly have plenty of ammo for it. As he came above-decks, he did a careful but quick perimeter check - and saw that everyone who’d been on board was down for good or had swum away. Ban knew the boat had holes in the hull, some from their enemies and some from Maria’s mostly-effective covering fire, so he wanted to beach it quickly.

  He steered the boat to a sandbar near the shore, confident that it would not sink there. As he felt the keel bite, he hopped off the bow with a dock line in his hand, landing in water about waist-high. He felt a bit of a twinge in his wounded leg, but shook that off too. As he waded to shore, smiled and signed a heart towards Maria’s roof. It would make the perfect present for her, if they could get it patched.

  He looped the dock line over a concrete bench by the water, cinching it tight. As he did so, he took stock of the situation on campus - and saw fire and smoke emerging from the eastern side, where the feint had come in. Feint or not, it looked like there was still trouble - and with Kelly stationed there, Bannon wasn’t leaving her uncovered.

  Bannon was embarrassed that running across a smallish campus winded him as much as it did - but breathing heavily still hurt his ribs, so it would have to do. As he approached Kelly’s position on the eastern side of the football stadium, his heart stopped. Kelly was crumpled at the base of her sniper’s nest.

  Bannon took the ladder rungs two at a time, rolling Kelly gently onto her back. She moaned as a hot jet of blood streamed from her right shoulder - an arterial wound. Bannon did what he could - he had some quick-clotting powder in his emergency pack, and he sprinkled her shoulder with it. He then packed her wound with pressure dressing, which he’d cut in half with his knife and rolled up to put in each hole. She was just conscious enough for a high, loud whimper of pain - she looked up in recognition to Bannon’s face, and then passed out.

  As he heard bullets bouncing off of the stadium wall, he picked up her M4, peeked over the wall, and methodically double-tapped every attacker in sight. He’d heard rumors that some people who’d never seen him shoot believed that he preferred his knife because his aim was bad - but in truth, he shot steady and true. He preferred the silence of his knife, and in an odd way, its intimacy - a gun always made him feel numbed in a way that frightened him, where a quick and close-range kill made him face the fact that he was taking a life.

  But today, double-taps would have to do. His priority was speed - he had to clear out the oncomers as fast as possible, so he could run Kelly to the infirmary ASAP.

  After clearing any sign of threat in his sector, Bannon laid his love across his shoulder as gently as he could. He climbed down the ladder with one hand, using his climbing skills to descend without too many jerks. He ran to the infirmary, ignoring the pain in his leg, and burst through the front door. “Pete!” Bannon screamed. “I need you down here, man!”

  Pete came thundering over, stripping his gloves off for a new sterile pair as he jogged up to the pair. His face crumpled as he took stock of Kelly’s limp body, and then he set his shoulders. “Okay,” Pete said, his tone all business. “Put her in that empty cot over there. Everything’s gonna be alright. I’ll take a look.”

  As Pete assessed her dressing, he cursed. “Her artery,” he said, and Bannon nodded miserably. “Then you’ve got a task,” he said. “I need you to pull her emergency records. They should be with Commandant Kirwan. We need to find her blood type, and then find a donor for her, stat.”

  As Bannon ran to the Commandant’s office, he could hear Pete shout “Elaine! We need to clamp an artery, get me the Doc and some tools!” If Kelly’s life could be saved - if he’d gotten there in time - he knew that Pete would do it.

  As Bannon b
urst into the Commandant’s office, he found him directing runners. “Medical files,” he said - Kirwan stepped out of the way of a file cabinet and pointed, and Bannon began to tear through the drawer as fast as he could. “Status?” Kirwan asked the runners.

  The runner reported, “We’ve turned them. The focus now is looking for wounded to interrogate, and to take care of our own wounded. Pull in our off-shift defenders and keep the current shift on the walls in case of a counter-attack.”

  As Bannon flipped open her file, his gut clenched. Kelly was O-negative; a universal donor, but she’d need the same type to receive a transfusion. He started over at the front of the medical files, looking through each. “Bannon,” Kirwan called. “You look pressed for time. How can I help you?”

  “Kelly’s down,” Bannon said miserably. “I shot everyone I could reach down to clear her position. There are two magazines worth of double-taps down, but I didn’t have time to check if they were all dead. Most are close to the stadium gates.”

  Kirwan looked at the runner pointedly, who sprinted back out the door. “Okay,” he said. “Med files. Let me help you look. What do you need to know?”

  “Trying to find a student who’s a match,” he said. “We need another O-negative. They hit an artery.”

  “We’ll find one,” Kirwan said. Together, they combed through the files, and finally Kirwan struck gold - there was one donor on campus who, if he was willing, could save her life. As it turned out, it was Private Appleton - who’d accidentally hit Ban with the IED. “He’s on the north-eastern side,” Kirwan said, and Ban was out the door before he could say another word.

  When he got to the wall, he found Appleton in one of the sniper’s nests. “Appleton!” he shouted, and he turned around - all the color draining from his face. “I need your blood, man,” he said. “Kelly’s hit. It’s bad. Do this for me and I’ll owe you one.”

  “Cover my post,” he shouted, and immediately scrambled down the ladder. “You’ve got the detonators,” he said, meeting Bannon at the bottom. “From left to right, 50 yards is the one by that cross on the side of the road. 100 yards is the one by the live oak tree, the one that hangs over the road. 150 is by that big rock that looks like a turtle head. And - well, you found out about 200 the hard way. Sorry, man!”

  “Time for that later; we’re good. At 200 yards, everyone looks like an enemy,” Bannon said, letting him climb down and hopping up in his place. “Report to Doc; leave your weapon and ammo! I got this.”

  Pete sprinted for the infirmary. Bannon watched him go, grateful - all was forgiven from his perspective, as long as he got to her fast enough. He then turned his attention to the road east of the stadium.

  He lost track of time after that - but later, in the dead of night, a whistle alerted him to a diesel engine, creeping down the road he was covering. It looked like an armored Humvee, and it had a dozen troops behind it. He let it come closer, and as soon as it was under the oak tree, he blew the 100-yard IED. The vehicle flipped as it caught fire, and almost all of the troops behind it were shredded or burned. He knew the feeling.

  After the explosion, more troops further back down the road jumped out of the wood line and rushed the gate. Those at 150 yards got the same treatment - concrete blew out and took out at least thirty attackers. Those who’d avoided the blast were running at the gate, shooting AKs and other rifles as fast as they could pull the trigger. Their aim was poor, but their speed and willingness to burn ammo made them dangerous - Bannon heard a few rounds fly by him, the popping noises meaning they were way too close for comfort.

  When most of the group got to the 50-yard mark, he leaned over the wall and sprayed a full thirty-round magazine into the heart of the group, who all dropped. Unfortunately for them, most left standing were within ten yards of the last IED - which Bannon popped off, throwing bodies and bits of bodies through the air. The blast was deafening, and it was the biggest of all - it had to be some kind of aircraft bomb. The crater in the road covered both sides of a two-lane road, including some of the shoulders.

  Cautiously, he looked over the wall, and nobody was pointing a rifle at him. With how many they’d managed to take out, that was probably the last offense the Locusts would be able to mount.

  He climbed down and crab-walked down the road, head-shotting everyone who wasn’t obviously dead. They had nearly killed Kelly, and for the first time, he felt no remorse, no instinct for mercy. These people had hurt his woman, and each would receive a swift death.

  Many were already dead, but many were not until after he got to them. After he cleared the stretch of road, he wandered the woods around the road until he was sure it was clear. He found a few attackers huddled behind trees, and dispatched them with his knife or gun, depending on their threat level. He stopped counting at eighty corpses, although he was sure that he hadn’t been responsible for all of them.

  Just to be safe, he walked back to the stadium wall with his hands in the air. “Don’t blow me up again,” he called. “It’s Bannon!”

  At that, a cheer rose from behind the wall as men and women fired their weapons into the air as they celebrated their victory. Bannon could only feel hollow as he strode back to the wall, making a beeline for the infirmary.

  33. A Campus in Crisis

  Maria ran into Bannon on her way back from the west wall, as the noise was beginning to die down. He didn’t look like he was concerned about stealth, but his face was drawn - and Kelly wasn’t with him. Maria’s heart dropped for her cousin. “Ban!” she shouted, and he looked up as if he was seeing Maria for the first time, tears in his eyes.

  “Kelly’s hit, Cuz,” Bannon said. “She got caught in one of the IED explosions at the perimeter. It’s bad - she lost so much blood -” His voice cracked. “I’m on my way to the infirmary.”

  “I got your back. Let’s go,” Maria said. She remembered how afraid she’d been when Bannon was hurt, and knew he needed the reassurance. “Pete will take good care of her, and we’ll watch their backs. It’ll be okay.”

  They both ran back to Justin Hall to find Pete and the head medical sergeant operating on Kelly’s shoulder. Neither of them were true doctors, but the med sergeant had been a nurse practitioner, finishing out a five-year program before he would transfer to full-time med school. “Go sit down, rest your leg,” Maria urged as they headed up the stairs - she and Kelly had left one sitting in the hall after their vigil with Bannon, and now she was glad for it. “She’ll kill me if I let you stand around waiting for her. I’ll see if I can catch Pete’s eye and get some news.”

  Bannon nodded, seemingly numb, and collapsed into the chair. “I didn’t even feel my leg when I was carrying her,” he said. “Now I feel it.” Maria went and stood by the door, trying not to disturb the two men at work. Pete did eventually look up - when he caught her eye, Maria raised her eyebrows and gave him a sequence of thumbs-up, thumbs-down, and a little so-so hand wave. Pete repeated the so-so gesture at her - which meant that Kelly wasn’t in critical condition, but it wasn’t good either.

  “No updates yet,” she said as she walked over to Bannon. “They’re working on her now. I’m going to go grab a chair for me and I’ll wait here with you, okay?”

  Bannon nodded - his face was white as a sheet, and his hands were white-knuckled on the chair’s arms. Maria went and came back, chair in hand, and she set it on the floor next to him. She sat down next to her cousin, careful to avoid his outstretched leg, and put her hand over his. “She waited for you, too,” Maria said softly, rubbing her thumb over his hand. “It’ll be alright.”

  “I know,” Bannon said, with the grim determination of a man who wasn’t willing to accept any other outcome. “I know.”

  Pete finally emerged after a while, wiping the sweat off of his brow. “Hey. She’s alive, guys,” he said. “She’s an O, so we were worried it might take us a while to find a donor match. Turns out, Appleton is the same.” Pete said. “Fortunately, your girl’s got the luck of the Irish. He’s passe
d out on one of the beds in the back - we ended up needing well over two units of blood from him to stabilize her.”

  “So she’s going to be okay?” Bannon asked.

  “Well, it’s at least to the point where it’s up to her,” Pete said. “Her artery is sewed up nicely, thanks to the NP over there. His name is Doc, go figure.” Doc lifted his chin at the trio, then went back to work on a nasty back wound. Pete continued, “As long as her wound doesn’t get infected, she’ll be okay. Problem is, it’s fairly large, and while we’re keeping all of our tools sterilized, it’s tough to keep all of our packings and dressings completely clean with a limited water supply. We’re going to give her what we’ve got here as a preventative measure, but our medicines are limited to the weak stuff. Hopefully it will be enough.”

  Kelly was sporadically conscious over the next several days, and was always asking for Bannon, who was never more than a few feet away. Every time she was lucid, he would kiss her, tell her that he loved her, and reassure her that she would be okay if she stayed strong. Maria came by as often as she could, but she was also worried about Pete, who was running himself ragged trying to take care of all of the wounded students. Though they hadn’t sustained as many casualties as during the end of June battle, they had a lot more injuries, so Pete was up late and double-shifting, trying to ensure that everyone who came to them was seen promptly.

 

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