by Ward III, C.
Without consulting his group, or even asking for opinion, Kevin immediately pushed the talk button while holding the radio high, hoping for a better signal.
“WGON, WGON, this is Leprechaun. I hear you, three by three. You’re coming in broken but readable. We are located seven miles west of Houghton Lake. We have four PAX needing immediate assistance, over!”
“You’re kidding,” Victor said in shock. “What did they say?”
Art said excitedly, hardly able to control his speech, “That they were about halfway between here and Houghton Lake. There were four of them. The signal transition was weak and distorted, but I think he said two males and two females that had traveled all the way from Detroit!”
Victor’s tactical mind went into overdrive, almost losing focus of Art, who was standing directly in front of him. “What else did they say, exactly? Leave nothing out!”
“You weren’t around to consult, so I just made a decision. I told them to meet our team on the second morning at Foree Electronics store next to Buff’s Pizzeria in the small village of Willamette on Route 55.”
Victor looked at Art curiously for a long second. “Why there?”
“Well, it’s the first place I thought of, and I figured while you’re going that way, you could pick up some electronic parts. I know that’s not your job, but we’ve never sent the scavenger teams out that far yet. If you could get me a few things, I could boost our transmission range, and I could possibly broadcast on several frequencies at once instead of only the BBN frequency.”
Even with the long day he had of rescuing Raymond’s neighbors, the excitement at the wall, and the covert eradication op that he had just come in from, Victor couldn’t sleep. He had doubts about broadcasting, but it had worked, instantly. He wondered how many more would answer their call, and at what distance. First things first, though: it was time to plan a long-range recovery op.
The autumn night’s temperature had dipped to a cool level, ideal for sleeping comfortably while keeping the summer mosquitoes at bay. Even with the chilled air and exhausted muscles from a long hike, sleep evaded all in the farmhouse that night. Gaylen was excited to put physical distance between herself and her nightmarish past. Lt. Murphy was beginning to suffer from viral insomnia symptoms. Stephan and Kevin were both ecstatic being so close to their destination after hundreds of miles and days, weeks, months of walking, encountering more life-and-death situations than they could count.
Just before sunrise, Kevin and Gaylen took inventory of the HMMWV as Stephan was on the farmhouse roof, providing overwatch. Lt. Murphy rounded the corner, looking pale.
“There you are, sir. We were looking through all your loot here. I don’t think the four of us will be able to carry it all. Is there anything in particular you want prioritized or left behind?” Kevin asked.
Lt. Murphy took in a big breath of chilled, crisp morning air while looking up at the pink autumn skies, tracking a flock of Canadian geese migrating south. “You know, I think I’m going to go fishing. There’s a little rowboat over by the pond, and I bet some poles are in the garage.”
The others looked at each other, puzzled. “But, sir, we should get going soon to make it to the extraction point,” Kevin said, unsure of Murphy’s infected mental state.
“You all go ahead. I understand how the virus progresses. I’ve seen enough people turn to comprehend the ugly course it takes. I have about a day, maybe two, left before I lose it altogether. I’m going to spend my last couple days fishing. Take whatever you want out of there; just leave me a box of MREs and a case of water. It’s only two or three miles to that little village they spoke of on the radio. You should be able to carry a heavy load that far. Take as much as you can.”
Stephan peered down over the roof, sadness written all over her face, and a lone wet tear streaked down Gaylen’s cheek. Kevin simply nodded his understanding. “Would you like some help with that boat, sir?”
PREGAME
Drinks, Snacks, and Rally Caps
Victor ran around town the next morning like crazy, gathering key personnel and supplies for tomorrow’s recovery mission. He was planning contingencies for every bad scenario that they could possibly encounter.
At the beach, Victor had used a roll of twine and tent stakes to create a large grid pattern in the sand that resembled the north/south and east/west lines on a map. Inside the grid squares, he’d used black spray paint to draw roads, blue paint for lakes and rivers, and piled-up sand to depict elevation changes across the topography. He’d also used Lego blocks to mark all the buildings shown on the map plus additional buildings he recalled from memory. Scattered about the model were little green plastic army men and miniature toy trucks marking strategic locations.
Huddled around the terrain model were Victor, his sons, Raymond, a deputy who would be tagging along as a law enforcement liaison, the town’s head mechanic, Mrs. Cloud representing the medical staff, a few TDF guards, and Art the radio operator.
“All right, we are here. The model is oriented north, which is that direction. The situation is we have a handful of refugees about ten miles east of here on Route 55 who have requested our assistance.” Victor pointed a stick to the cluster on the terrain model depicting Lake City, drawing a line in the air eastward over Route 55 toward the small village of Willamette.
“Our mission is to retrieve the four of them tomorrow morning and bring them safely back here. We’ll do this by utilizing three elements—”
“Are you really giving a full operations order for a simple pickup?” Raymond scoffed.
“Yes,” Victor said, glaring back at him.
“Really? Orientation. Situation. Mission. Execution. Admin and Logistics. Command and Signal. All that?”
“Yes,” Victor said again, gritting his teeth. “The majority of the players involved have never worked together before in this magnitude. It’s imperative everyone is on the same sheet of music, knowing what is expected of them. It’s only ten miles away, but it may as well be deep behind enemy lines.”
“Yeah, yeah, forward edge of the battle area, got it. But we all know when bullets start flying, this elaborate plan will shit the bed. I prefer ‘initiative-based’ tactics. The mission is known; I’ll make the rest up as I go.”
“Well, for everyone else, I’ll continue, in long…drawn-out…detail,” Victor said slowly.
Raymond rolled his eyes and scoffed, yet he remained with the group huddled around the three-dimensional map for the entire duration of the mission briefing.
An hour later, Victor concluded the meeting, giving hard times for final gear checks and reminding them to get some chow and rest before they rolled out at 0200. He caught up with his sons as they dispersed from the briefing and walked back to their home.
“Dad, that’s a lot of information to remember,” Michael said.
Zavier agreed, nodding his head.
“Don’t worry, most of it doesn’t apply to you, and you boys have the easy job. Pretty much the same thing we’ve been doing on our black ops, but you’ll be running the mission without me. The reason I made you sit through that long boring brief is because it’s important to know what the other pieces of the chess game are doing. When we get back to the house, I’ll go over your part of the game again while we have lunch. Ask any questions you may have. Remember, the most important task you have is to take care of each other and come back safely at any cost. Do you understand?”
The morning sun came over the eastern horizon, warming their faces and threatening another relentlessly hot day. Already missing the crispness of the cool night air, Stephan took one heavy step in front of the other while hunched over, carrying an overstuffed backpack that weighed more than her own body weight.
She looked down often to ensure she was stepping on flat ground to avoid twisting an ankle, which was extremely easy to do while packing this kind of weight. Kevin had suggested doubling up on their socks and using elastic wraps out of the first-aid kits to give them extra ankl
e support. Ordinarily a twisted or sprained ankle would put you on the couch watching movies for a couple of days; now it could be a death sentence.
Stephan found herself looking down often, not to search for a flat place to step but merely from exhaustion. The arches of her feet ached, sweat dripped in her eyes, and it hurt to stand up straight. She wasn’t watching her areas of responsibility; that was dangerous and stupid. She held up her hand to halt the group. “Break time,” she said. The break times were becoming more frequent as the landscape inclined slightly to the west.
“Once we crest this hill, we should be able to see the village,” Kevin said quietly after chugging a bottle of water. Over the past couple of months, hydration management had been a continuous battle. Due to the lack of clean water, they could only drink just enough to stay healthy, but no more. That morning, while pillaging Lt. Murphy’s Hummer, they had found several cases of water, more than they could possibly carry. With water so plentiful now, he had the luxury of slamming an entire bottle of H2O, just because it tasted and felt so good. The simple things in life.
“I’ll take point,” Stephan said, tightening the backpack shoulder straps. The lead position tended to be the most dangerous spot in a formation, having the highest probability for close-range contact. Any slacking off while walking point not only put herself in danger but her friends as well. For that reason, she tended to be a little more alert compared to when she was in the rear of the pack.
The crest of the hill was a lot farther away than the few hundred yards she had estimated. By the time they finally got there, with sweat-soaked shirts and shaking legs, it was unquestionably break time again. The only concealment options at the crest were a small cluster of bushes and trees or an outcrop of boulders. They picked the comfort of shade provided by the vegetation. All three flopped down on the soft ground, facing outward with their packs touching in the center so that they could lean back into each other while stretching their legs out straight.
“I think I’m getting too old for this,” Kevin said and wheezed.
“I think I’m too short for all this,” Stephan agreed.
“I think I’m just too soft and out of shape,” Gaylen said with a pitiful laugh, knowing she was carrying only half the weight of her new friends.
Kevin wiggled out of his shoulder straps, taking off the pack. He reached into an outside pocket to grab a small pair of binoculars and a bottle of water. “I’m going to see what’s on the other side of this hill. You two sit here and keep an eye out.”
“Ohhhh, OK. You talked me into it,” Stephan teased him while rubbing her sore calves.
“If you hear me yelling, it’s probably just leg cramps,” Kevin said. He high-crawled away from them, taking advantage of the usable vegetation concealment and because his legs hurt too much to stand up.
About half an hour later, he returned to find them both chowing down on an MRE and chugging water. “Careful eating too many of those things in a row. Military ration meals will bind up your intestines. Next time you take a poo, it’ll be like giving birth. You should mix in some of our canned food every other meal to help grease the track.” He knew why they were gorging themselves; it wasn’t because they were starving and now had plentiful amounts of food after being hungry for months and months—it was because they were reducing their load weight through consumption.
“So the good news is the village is literally right over this hill. The bad news is the village is a little larger than we’d expected, and the electronics store is right smack-dab in the center of it. I didn’t see any signs of life, but we’ll have to be extremely careful on the final approach. If we get into contact, it’ll be difficult for us to evade—not to mention where would we evade to, since this is our extraction point? We’ll take it slow and easy. There appears to be a small stream looping around town, flowing right next to this hill we’re on. We can use that for cover to get in close to the first row of buildings.”
“Are we in a hurry to get down there?” Gaylen asked. “It’s only ten o’clock. Should we watch the village some more? I only ask because I am beat. Really tired. I hate to slow you guys down, but I could pass out right now if I closed my eyes.”
“I didn’t sleep at all last night either,” Stephan agreed. “I’m pretty fatigued myself. Kevin, can I get the binos? I’ll go watch the town for a while if you want to get some chow while Gaylen takes a nap. Then we can rotate. Wouldn’t be a bad time to let your feet air out too.”
“If you do, only take one boot off at a time in case we need to move in a hurry. Keep your rifle close by too. We can see the finish line; let’s not get sloppy now,” Kevin reinforced.
“Curtis, are you OK being the QRF driver?” Victor asked.
“Sure. Seems simple enough. I’ll just be hanging out in the truck once everyone is set into place?” He shrugged.
“Yes, hopefully that is it, if all goes well. It’s the alternate scary version that I’m referring to. How about the bait—almost ready?”
“Yup, almost ready. I still need to test a couple components to ensure the entire package works,” Curtis replied.
“OK, let me know when it’s a hundred percent solid,” Victor said.
“Are you feeling well, Dad? You seem really on edge,” Curtis asked.
“Me? Yeah. I have an odd feeling about this mission. Something’s different from the others. It’s probably nothing, but it’s eating at me. I’m really tired, I need to find a minute to take a nap. But first, Michael and Zavier need to link up with their rear-security element to brief them. I want to be there for support in case old men don’t like taking orders from kids.”
Kevin hadn’t napped in the middle of the day since he was enlisted in the army. In the infantry, there was plenty of downtime in the field while waiting for orders. Grunts usually killed that time with a quick nap. In fact, they were famous for being able to sleep in the oddest, most unusual positions imaginable. When Stephan nudged him awake, his eyes flew open, and he was fully alert, his heart pounding as he looked around with drool on his cheek.
Stephan knelt next to him with her finger on his lips, quietly shushing him. She took her finger off his lips slowly, pointed her index and middle finger at her eyes, then pointed her M4 in the direction of the village. She flashed both hands open, then closed, then open again in front of the scrunched-up ugly face she was making. She was telling Kevin that she’d spotted twenty Grays toward the village. Kevin nodded that he understood, then quietly put his boot back on.
The Grays were in a pack with no visible leader. The group didn’t flow together collectively like a school of fish; it was more like a disorganized gaggle. Yet they all eventually migrated in the same direction, stopping occasionally to sniff the air and bark at each other while searching buildings, open vehicles, or anything that made an interesting sound.
Kevin, Stephan, and Gaylen looked at each other with raised eyebrows and just shrugged, not knowing what to think of it. After watching the pack disappear in the distance, they decided then would be a good time to make their way into town. Using the shrub-lined streambed, they cautiously made their way toward the first building, quietly and unnoticed.
“We have a couple blocks to go. I’d feel better dropping these insanely heavy packs here to clear the way first. We can retrieve them afterward if the coast is clear. I’ll take point. Stephan and I will rotate cover at danger areas. Gaylen, we need you to watch our six o’clock. Keep a good eye to the rear, but don’t lose us and get left behind. If we get separated, stay where we last saw each other. If we get hostile contact, let’s fight our way back to this building where our gear is cached. It’ll be our Alamo. Sound like a plan?” Kevin briefed.
With that, they stepped off. Gaylen was amazed at how fluid-like Kevin manipulated his weapon. As he came up to a building corner turning right, he smoothly switched the buttstock into his left shoulder, then seamlessly switched his support- and firing hands as if he’d done it a thousand times before. He went to a k
nee, then took a quick peek around the corner, exposing only a sliver of shoulder and head.
The first time Gaylen had witnessed this, she had several questions as to why, but after watching the same technique used while rounding corners in different directions, it finally made sense. He wanted to look around a corner while keeping his rifle muzzle up in case there was a threat, yet he didn’t want to telegraph his presence by over presenting himself to the unknown area. Always keeping his body near the wall and weapon on the outside. Wall-body-weapon. Very smart. Although Gaylen didn’t think she could shoot left-handed very well, so she didn’t even try.
They came upon a long, shaded alleyway with a lot of open back doors into dark abandoned businesses. Kevin paused for a brief second to let the others to catch up. He made a hand signal with one finger, making the letter O in the air in front of him, as he whispered, “Rolling cover. Gaylen, keep covering our rear and watch these upper-level windows. It’d suck to get infected by a falling Gray.” Then he stepped off again, with his rifle lifted on his shoulder, pointing in the direction of travel.
He came to the first door and slowed down a tad but did not stop. He turned his light on, illuminating the dark room that they were bypassing, giving respect to the deep corners and cluttered areas that could harbor hidden dangers. He was quickly clearing the room from outside in the alleyway, careful not to over penetrate the threshold with his barrel. While Kevin was momentarily inspecting the unknown space, Stephan stepped around him, then passed him, taking the twelve o’clock lead position.
The moment he’d cleared as much of the room as possible without physically going in, he turned off his light and spun back around, giving full attention to the upper windows and roof. At the next dark opening, Stephan cleared it the same way Kevin had. While she was paying her respects to the creepy dark void, Kevin stepped around, then passed her, taking point again. They were clearing only what absolutely needed to be cleared, completely bypassing closed doors, which kept the group in forward motion toward the electronic store destination like a well-choreographed tactical ballet.
