Four CUC-V's, plugged into the wall to keep the fluids warm and circulating, were sitting in the motorpool bays. The sight of them made me breathe a sigh of relief. A quick check of them showed the steering wheels were still locked with chains and that they didn't have keys in the ignition, but that wasn't a problem. There were two sets of keys for every vehicle; one back at the company, the other in the Motor Pool Sergeant's office.
And if worse came to worse I'd just hotwire them after bashing the hasps off.
"We're fucking golden, Ant." Bomber grinned, rubbing his hands together. "We'll grab one of these, load Carter into it, we all pile into the other, and we go down and tell the MP's what's happening."
"Hooah." I grinned.
Nagle was looking around, shining a flashlight into the dark or shadowy areas of the bays as we headed to the office. She was frowning while she did so, chewing on her lower lip.
"What's up, Nancy?" I asked her, slowing down and looking around. The motorpool bay was big, but it was largely open, anyone coming at us would be seen quickly, and between the three of us, would get royally fucked up.
"We're forgetting something, but I don't know what." She told me. "I just know it."
"Does it matter?" I grinned, pointing at the NCOIC's office door.
"I think so." She said softly.
We moved up to the door and checked it. It was locked, but I slammed the point of the entrenching tool in between the door and the frame, right at the lock and with a wrench tore it open. We went in, grinning, and I opened the key box with one good whack using the entrenching tool.
It was empty.
Just a piece of paper that someone had written "MISSING SOMETHING?" on in red ink.
The lights cut off, and the blowers went dead.
Between the time the lights went out and the emergency lights cut on, we heard running feet, dark and evil laughter that was purely human instead of the liquid chuckle we'd heard in the stairwell, and a loud booming noise that echoed in the bay.
He was still one step ahead of us.
The lizard slapped the "kill" button and all the hatred, rage, and need to destroy flooded back. My pulse hammered at my temples, and I was sick and tired of whoever it was screwing with us. I didn't care that he'd killed someone in the stairwell, I was tired of running, tired of him dancing around. I wanted to get my hands on him.
...kill, rend, destroy, maim...
Bomber jumped away from the door, cursing, and I felt Nagle grab me when I went to run into the bay. Her fingers dug into my arm and she pulled me back with surprising strength.
"Don't." She whispered. "He probably knows you're the type to charge in, and he might be waiting."
The realization that my anger and fear had almost pushed me into making a terminal mistake washed over me. Exhaustion, fear, and pain were driving me toward making mistakes, and mistakes were something we couldn't afford. The lizard hung his head in embarrassment.
"We need to get weapons." Bomber said. "We'll grab axes and head back to the company, hole up in Lewis' room till someone comes for us."
"Won't work." I said, shaking my head.
"Why not?" Bomber asked.
"We'll freeze to death by this time tomorrow." Nagle said, and I nodded.
"Fuck." Bomber looked around.
"Wait, I've got an idea." I said.
"Let's hear it." Nagle said, "I'm out of ideas."
I told them quickly, and they nodded.
"Are you sure you can do it?" Nagle asked when I got done explaining it.
"I'm sure." I told her. "Well, I'm pretty sure."
I went out the door first, entrenching tool in hand, my nerves hyped up, but nobody jumped us. My nerves were so tight I would have swung the entrenching tool before I could have identified the target, but I doubted there would be anyone but the three of us and whoever was out to kill us. We stuck together and gathered everything up, then made our way back to where we'd left the parkas and other cold weather gear.
To where they had been.
The empty tool bench silently mocked us.
"GODDAMN IT!" Bomber yelled.
"He probably threw it just right outside the door." Nagle said. "Hell, they could be less than ten feet from the door and we'd never find them."
"We're fucking screwed." Bomber said, rubbing his face and sighing. "We're trapped up here, and now we don't have any power."
"Check the CUC-V's for radios." I snapped, heading into the darkness to the first one. I pulled open the door, spotted the Prick-77 and grinned. "Got one." I told them, moving around the front. "Bring the flashlight over here."
Bomber and Nancy moved up next to us as I popped the hood on the Chevy Blazer, and all three of us groaned at once.
The batteries had been removed, and wires had been torn free, hanging down. I'd seen wrecked up engines before, from when my biological father had gotten himself another "shootin' car" and I'd looked under the hood. I had helped my adopted Father fix his crash up derby cars growing up. I knew a wrecked engine when I saw it.
"This one is screwed. Check the others." I said, staring at the engine, the hot bitter taste of disappointment flooding my mouth.
"Nothing." Bomber said, coming back after a few moments.
"Whoever did this took the batteries out of the one that didn't even have a radio." Nancy told us. I shined the flashlight on her face, and she was starting to shiver, rubbing her upper arms."
"What the Hell is he doing?" Bomber asked, looking around the darkness.
"Divide and conquer. Destroy infrastructure and resources. Leave no ground for the enemy to go to." Nancy quoted. She looked at me and frowned at my grin. "What's so fucking funny? We're gonna die in here."
"No worries." I told them. She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Follow me."
We went back to the offices, past the emergency showers and into the locker room. While Nagle stood watch, Bomber and I began ripping open the lockers one after another. We jammed the entrenching tool in between the door and the frame on the hinge side, then just ripped the door clean off. It wasn't neat, it wasn't pretty, but we were in a hurry.
Besides, the Army could just fucking bill me.
If I lived.
We started pulling out the winter coveralls, any gloves left behind, anything we could use to replace our missing stolen cold weather gear. When we found a few lockers containing Kevlar vests the lizard bubbled happily. Nancy shouted with glee and quickly sat down to change out her tennis shoes when she found a pair of boots that would fit her. I noticed that her toes looked bad, bluish black.
I watched the door while Bomber and Nagle layered four sets of coveralls on, and put on some of the motorpool guy's lucky/work hats. Once Bomber was done, I went over and did the same, layering them on. More than a few of the motor pool guys had left socks in their lockers, and we pulled them on over our hands until we had makeshift gloves. Before I pulled on the socks, I smeared thick grease over our faces, rubbing it onto our lips and around our necks, not bothering with a thin tanning coat, but layering it on fingernail depth.
"Why the grease?" John asked, sputtering from trying to lick his lips and getting grease on his tongue.
"Cut down on the windburn, maybe provide some insulation." Nancy answered for me. She smiled at me. "Smart."
I just nodded, and went back to smearing it across the back of John's neck.
Our makeshift cold weather gear was thick, bulky, and made it hard to move. The grease felt sticky and gross, the socks stunk, but it reminded me of childhood, and the memory of throwing snowballs with my siblings made me smile. We waddled back out into the motor pool bay, the emergency lights only giving off a dull yellow glow that was barely enough to see by.
We found one of the tool boxes had been left unlocked, and grabbed three of the axes that were inside. I hefted a crowbar for a long moment, and then tossed it in with the shovels and the rest of the tools. We did a full sweep of the motorpool, grabbing anything we needed for our pla
n, and hoped that we could pull it off.
Our strength and endurance was the weakest link of the whole plan.
"This is about as ready as we're gonna get." I said. John and Nancy nodded.
"John, shoot us an azimuth, just in case.
Bomber fished the compass he'd taken from Stokes' room out of his shirt and let it hang from the string while Nancy retied us together. We'd used engineer tape to fashion makeshift loops on our belts for the axes we'd grabbed.
"Got it, let's do this." John said. I nodded and opened the door, and we dragged our supplies out into the howling storm. I reached down, found the D-Ring with a smile, and clipped it to the rope around my waist.
This time I took the lead for a little while, Bomber and Nagle dragging the heavy part of the load, until Nagle tugged on our tie to stop me. Then she took the lead while Bomber and I dragged it through the snow and gravel. We were almost to the fence when Nagle took Bomber's place.
We pushed our supplies under the fence, squirmed under it, and wrapped the poncho around Nagle, tying it off with a rope. She was shivering despite the layers of clothing, the wind just tearing right through the layers of cloth. She gave me a wan smile, her teeth flashing in the mass of thick blackish-brown grease I'd layered on her face.
"Ready?" I shouted.
"Ready!" they shouted back.
I grabbed the 550 cord from where I'd looped it into the fence to keep tension and tugged.
And felt it give. Cursing, I reeled it in, coming up with the end in only a couple of minutes.
Our lead back to the barracks was gone.
Without a lead, our chances of missing the barracks and tumbling down the hill or getting turned around in the snow were almost assured.
Once again, whoever it was thought they were one step ahead of the three of us.
I tapped Nagle, who tapped Bomber, and they gathered close. When Bomber turned on the flashlight and shined it in my hand, we could all see that the end wasn't cut, wasn't snapped, but had been untied.
We had to get back. It was more than just us.
The wind howled with glee and whipped the snow around us.
There’s No Place Like… Home?
Cold. Cold was the manifestation
of the mountain's hatred of us.
It wasn't the absence of heat.
It was a living, hateful, spiteful thing.
The cut line snapped against my glove, driven by the wind, and I could see Bomber shake his head. The blue lens over the flashlight and the grease gave him and Nagle's faces a bruised look in the darkness and the snow.
I dropped the line, reached down, and grabbed the D-ring and tugged on the line threaded through it.
It held firm.
"Not this time." I snarled, and the other two nodded in agreement. I looked at John. "Shoot the azimuth, just in case."
John nodded, lifting up the compass and holding the flashlight close while he checked it. After a second he gave me the thumbs up, closed the compass, and let it drop on his chest.
"You two grab the package, I'll lead." I said, and led the way down the hill.
They lost control of the package and it slid down the hill, coming to a stop when it slammed into the bumper of a car. Even over the wood we heard the sound of crunching plastic and breaking glass. Still, a quick check over in the dim light showed that it was all still good.
The broken bumper and taillight were someone else's problem. If I lived, I'd pay for it, otherwise, screw it.
Bomber and Nagle grabbed the package and picked it up, carrying it across the tarmac. The line on the D-ring was tied off to the fence, and I quickly used the axe to chop through the little white picket fence. I had to rest once, the altitude and the cold making the effort reduce me to trembling exhaustion in no time.
"Need me to finish it up?" Bomber asked me.
"No, I got it." I said, hefting the axe and starting again.
It was kind of funny. I'd helped put the fence up in front of the company, the waist high picket fence built by people who had gotten in trouble and had agreed to join the work crew rather than take an Article-15. Less than 3 months later I was hacking a section apart in the middle of a howling blizzard.
It was weirdly cathartic.
Once I'd hacked open a large enough section and kicked the slats away, I waved the two of them away. The blue light from the flashlight was dimming even further; I could barely see the light of the flashlight at less than 10 feet.
Nancy and John dragged the package through the fence and set it down. I traded with Bomber, grabbing the cold metal of the frame, while Bomber took the flashlight off of Nancy's pocket. He checked the compass with the flashlight, checked to make sure he was still tied off, and waved us to follow him. Grunting, Nancy and I hefted up the package and staggered after him. Bomber led the way, using the compass, and led us to the edge of the building.
"Stokes' room?" Nagle yelled out when we set down the package. She'd slumped against the wall and her voice sounded drained.
"Negative, he was in there to untie the line. We'll bust in the center fire escape and then we'll have to take the middle stairwell." Bomber answered. He didn't sound much better.
Nancy and I both groaned when we lifted the package. The metal frame we were using to lift it cut through the socks and into our hands, making it feel like we were lifting sharp blades rather than dull metal. We staggered behind John, slogging through the snow, the sound of our shoes breaking through the thin layer of ice lost in the wind.
Finally, John came to a stop, and I heard metal thump when he struck the door with a fist. Nancy and I set down the generator while he grabbed the handle of the door and pulled on it.
"Fucking figures, it's locked." Bomber yanked again then let go, backing up and shaking his head. "Now what?"
"Back me up." I answered, pulling the axe from the engineer tape loop again. I moved up while Nancy and John kept what watch they could on the driving snow and darkness around us. I got a good grip on the wooden handle and started in on the door lock with the axe. Three hits to rip through the steel lining of the door, and a few more to smash the lock up good enough to reach in with my fingers and trigger the door mechanism so I could pull it open.
The smell of death and decay rolled over me when I opened the door, the darkness beyond it more absolute than the darkness I stood outside in. Snowflakes whirled and danced, vanishing into the gaping maw of the door.
I clicked on the flashlight I'd stolen from Stokes' room, the beam muted by the snow howling around us, and stepped into the barracks.
It was somehow colder inside the building, and the lizard grumbled to himself in warning.
To the right was the stairwell access door, ahead of us we'd have to go up three steps, but we'd be inside the barracks proper, in the center hall that went the entire length of the building.
Nagle and Bomber followed, Nagle coughing at the stench that rolled over us. The wind outside didn't break it up, but seemed to compact it, to concentrate it somehow in the small emergency hallway.
Once they got the package in, they shut the door, and we stood there for a long moment.
"When I find that bastard I'm stomping a mudhole in his ass." Bomber said, cracking his knuckles through the socks.
"At ease that shit." I said, reaching down and grabbing the package. "Nagle, you lead, Bomber, let's do this."
Bomber and I lifted the package up and Nagle led the way through the side access emergency door, which opened with two quick hits with her axe, then we moved carefully down the stairs with the package, trying not to lose our balance with how heavy and bulky it was. Our sock covered hands wanted to slip, and the grease on my hands made the socks both tacky and slick, the metal biting into my fingers. The cold of outside having numbed up my fingers and made them feel like stiff clay.
Nagle opened up the bottom door, and we ignored the shriek of rage from above us, ignored the sobbing wail that rolled down the steps, and pushed into the short hallway an
d stopped in front of the door of the furnace room.
"Did you lock it?" Nagle asked me, and I shook my head. Bomber was standing next to me, shivering, his teeth chattering loud enough for me to hear it.
I pulled the door open, revealing the cavernous black beyond. It was two thirds of a city block long and wide enough for twenty men to stand at arm's length from one another. It was supposed to be designed for our unit to hold formation in during the winter.
Now it was menacing. Something could be in the blackness. Someone could be waiting in there, wearing a pair of NVG's with a knife, pistol, or rifle in their hands, watching us in the doorway with a dark and evil smile. The meager light from our flashlights was swallowed up by the darkness without illuminating anything.
The lizard hopped from foot to foot, nervously chewing on the tip of his tail. He didn't like going into dark places.
"Let's go." I broke the silence, bending down to lift up the package. Bomber nodded and grabbed his side of it, and with Nagle leading the way, we headed back into the furnace room.
It took us about 10 minutes to locate the water heater we were after. According to the datasheet next to it, the big fucking oil fired heater was responsible for only one thing.
The radiators.
We set down the heavy load, and stood in the darkness for a minute, stomping our feet and smacking our hands together to get circulation moving again.
"John, go throw the breaker for this heater on the wall, Nancy, come here."
"Give me a second." I heard him unscrew the bottom of his flashlight and a few seconds later the top. I knew he was switching out the colored lens covers, and while he did that I swung my arms, trying to get my circulation going. John clicked on his flashlight, the red lens making everything he shone the light on appear blood smeared. He checked the water heaters quickly, turned, and disappeared into the darkness. Nagle came up as I stripped off the socks and glove liners.
Three Little Snowmen (Damned of the 2/19th) Page 20