“Fire for effect,” Tommy said.
“Aye aye,” Glen said as he dropped another round. No sooner had the mortar screamed away Glen picked up another and dropped it. He waited for a second before sending the next, and repeated the process until all the remaining high explosive rounds had been launched.
Tommy watched each impact the area near the second explosion that had destroyed the old white Mercedes truck. For once he was thankful the breeze had picked up, for it drifted a few of the mortar rounds a few dozen feet in each direction, spreading the death for them. One man took a mortar round square in the back and Tommy watched as his entire body disintegrated, limbs flying outward in all directions. Horses could not have pulled him apart more efficiently. He was thankful the man wouldn’t be a worry as an undead ever.
When the sixth round fell and exploded on the Taliban Thomas sat still and watched, waiting for anyone to move. As one man slowly rolled over, clearly wounded, Tommy sighted in on him and sent a round through him. He didn’t roll over again.
The light finally faded away, and Tommy gave up on his vigilance. They were all dead, or dying. He sent a few rounds into the engine block of the Toyota to ensure that it wouldn’t be operable for a good long time, and then turned to Glen.
“Get the Chinook here. Let’s get the fuck gone.”
Glen happily started to hail the extraction team as the two gathered what they felt was worth taking. Free AK-47s were a hot commodity nowadays.
It took the helo two hours to arrive at Firebase Walker, giving the Marines and SEALs plenty of time to shoot all the zombies surrounding the base dead, and pack up and be ready leave nothing but the ghosts of friends and enemies behind. They could hear the thumping of the Chinook’s dual rotors long before they could see it, and as the massive helicopter landed in the dust and dirt outside the base, the whoop-whoop-whoop of the massive rotors shook their chests.
Ellem stood with the two SEALs as the rest of the Marines boarded through the rear ramp of the transport chopper. Several Army Rangers provided fall out security as the Marines lugged their meager possessions aboard. The Marines looked thankful for more friendly faces, and the Rangers were elated to see them. Tommy was glad the cross service bullshit had more or less died since June. It had gotten old to watch men and women spar over which branch was better than the other.
The Marine Sergeant stood silently, emotion clear on his face. “I’m sad to leave. That sounds stupid doesn’t it?” Ellem said over the cacophony of the helicopter.
Thomas shook his head and assessed the Sergeant. He seemed like a good man, and a leader that had stepped up when he was needed most. The world would need men and women like him now more than possibly ever, “Sergeant you’re like the Captain of a ship. No different. No Captain wants to watch his ship sink, nor ever step foot off its decks.
“Yeah I suppose,” Ellem said wistfully.
“Well fuck both of you poets. We still have hot food in Kandahar, and if I am not mistaken, today is over, and it is time to leave.” Glen trotted off towards the rear of the Chinook, shaking his ass happily.
“How can he be so goddamn happy? Yesterday was horrible,” Ellem shook his head.
“Yesterday was easy Sergeant,” Tommy said, picking up one last pack of supplies from the base. “Tomorrow could be hard.”
“How can you say that?” Ellem asked as the two walked towards the Chinook, ready to leave the valley of death.
“We have a saying in the teams. ‘The only easy day is yesterday.’ Yesterday was dealt with, and is past us, and is thus, easy. I don’t have to worry about yesterday anymore. Today and tomorrow though… That I’ve got to focus on.”
Ellem laughed, “You SEALs are fucking crazy. The only easy day is yesterday. Man that’s some shit.”
“No argument from me Sergeant. Let’s go to Kandahar.”
January 2014
January 4th
Mr. Journal, so far, so good.
Though we haven’t come that far, and things aren’t all that good.
As I said, we met with the NVC people and toured the Factory with them yesterday. Classic case of third wheel. Thorpe came, and in a plot twist we weren’t expecting, so did King Shit of Turd Hill (north).
Hector and Celeste greeted them and gave them an unfettered walk through. I mean, it’s a strip club. I don’t know what about the place would give them a hard-on anymore to add to their repertoire, but they seemed adequately excited to have a fortified outpost on the city edge. It also helped that the camera system Andy installed there gave them a bit of chubber. I dislike giving them access to such a system, because now they can theoretically replicate it like we have at all our locations, but that could’ve happened without them gaining access to the Factory.
I should add that Andy and his thick glasses departed the Factory for good. He’s decided he’d rather be back at Bastion, a little further away from the spread of the NVC, and a little closer to the large group of people with guns that he trusts.
After the tour ended Mizaki sat the brains of the respective operations down (same group of people who debated the whole process at the end of last month) and he presented Hector and Celeste a thick stack of paperwork that represented the alliance in official legal-sounding language. I’m glad Kevin stayed back, because he would whipped his dick out and pissed all over that paperwork right then and there and underlined his John Hancock with a turd.
I love the idea that Hector and Celeste think a few signed sheets of paper mean anything. It goes to their positivity about people giving their word, and it lends power to what otherwise would’ve been a simple handshake, and verbal agreement. I guess the same could be said about Mizaki and his crew.
Buuuut paper and the words written on it don’t mean shit now, and there’s nothing stopping either group from ignoring the whole agreement at will, for any reason. Paper didn’t mean shit ever Mr. Journal. We broke treaties, ignored them at will, and generally the people with the biggest guns did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, at the expense of the little man.
And in this scenario, we’re the little man.
But still, the treaty/alliance paperwork was cute, and both Hector and Celeste seemed happy that something ‘firm’ was in place to protect their rights and autonomy as such.
Afterwards, everyone involved shook hands, and we set up a date for the NVC people to visit Spring Meadow. As I suspected, they were okay with the 7th to tour the interior of the gated community, but we made no assurances any treaty would be signed on that day. We’ve decided that Spring Meadow, MGR and Bastion all stand together, no matter what.
No secret tours, no back alley agreements. All or nothing.
And right now, all doesn’t look impossible. I know my language is negative and pessimistic for the most part, but at the end of the day, they are still making us feel good about joining forces and it’s still the right choice based on everything we know. We have plenty of time to decide, or change our mind, and if things follow the course we’ve charted thus far, it looks good for everyone involved. A lot of blood will stay inside the people it belongs to because of this, and that’s a good thing.
-Adrian
January 7th
We’re about to head out to Spring Meadow to escort the NVC people there, but I had to put in a little entry before I go. I wouldn’t say anything, but I had my laptop open from last night when I was listening to music.
My brother Caleb and his wife Sophie had a middle of the night miscarriage. I woke up to hearing Caleb’s primal screams for help. I’ve never been more frightened. My brother has never made a sound like that before. We rushed them to the clinic a few hours ago. Baby obviously passed, and we damn near lost Sophie too.
Fletcher the veterinarian and Joel were on-call last night, and they saved her life. I am told she had a ton of bleeding. My family owes the two of them more than I can say.
I’m fighting the need to leave to spend time with my brother. We’ll see what I decide. I’
m on the fence.
-Adrian
January 7th (2nd Entry)
January 7th 2014 (2nd entry)
Becca and I stayed with Caleb. Michelle went in my stead. I miss my brothers.
I’m waiting for Michelle to return so I can hear how it all went at Spring Meadow. I hate that I missed the meet, but I’m glad I stayed with my brother and his wife.
Heartbroken.
-Adrian
January 10th
If I didn’t love her madly, I’d kill Michelle. Do you know how hard it has been to get information out of her about the Spring Meadow visit? I’m serious, she’s like a brick wall when it comes to getting proper, good information.
Can I find out about her personal take on people? How she read them and how everyone reacted emotionally? How she estimated their interpersonal effectiveness, and overall social ability? Do I now know that Vega is Roman Catholic?
You bet.
Can I get her to tell me the specifics about what everyone said, and how they said it?
Not a chance. All those details slipped past her like goose shit through a tin horn. (An expression that has never made sense to me, but I’m saying it, because men become their fathers.)
And the stereotype is that women hear everything everyone says and never forget it. I know that’s sexist and unfair, but I’m all out of sorts since Caleb and Sophie’s miscarriage. Aaaahhhh, I’m pissed. Why take a fucking baby? What God would do that? Seriously. Not even a baby, a fucking unborn child. Second trimester, no less, well into the supposed safe zone of a pregnancy.
Sigh.
My brother and his wife are a wreck. Sophie’s doing much better physically, but the abruption she suffered nearly killed her. She’s mending, but losing a baby is something you don’t come back from the same. Caleb’s broken about it, and watching him watch her be broken, makes me hurt so goddamn bad. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. My brother deserved another child. He’s such a good father. Always there for his family, always. They are the kind of people who should be making babies to repopulate this fucked up world, and they did everything right. Everything.
My sister Becca is all fucked up too. She lost a nephew or a niece (We aren’t asking which it was. That seems like too much.) and she was closer to my brother and his wife than I was. They survived a long time together in their house after that day. They’ve got a bond I don’t share, and we’re close as fuck.
Adding insult to injury my decision (and it was the right one) to stay behind cost me front row seats of the Team AAA meeting with the NVC brass.
I can’t say much, despite me spending the last few days grilling folks about it. I know Mizaki didn’t show, but Thorpe and a few of the other council people did. They came with ‘lots of tanks,’ and ‘lots of armed men,’ as Michelle has said, but she didn’t say much about whether they postured, or intimidated. I think the NVC people left their heavy shit outside of the gated community out of respect or logistical difficulty getting it through the gates. She spent most of her time with Team AAA, and Thorpe, and boy does she have a lengthy evaluation on Thorpe. If you want to skip the next paragraph; she likes him.
She believes that Thorpe is the best of the bunch there. She thinks he’s a good man, but the rest of the NVC is trailing but still coming around. Like I thought, she thinks they made some mistakes early, and fell into a bad reputation, but they’re working on it. Trying to improve, and she thinks Thorpe is one of the men who are pushing for that change. I like him more now that she said that, but her assessment of the NVC does scare me.
She isn’t wrong about people often.
I wish I had been in a better place to send someone to roam more when she went. I know she did a good job, and represented us well, but she didn’t look at the things like I would’ve. She saw different things, and it’s good to hear those things, but it wasn’t helpful for me like I’d hoped.
I’m angry at her for doing a good job differently than I would’ve, and that’s not fair. I’m angry about other things and projecting that shit onto her. Totally uncool, Adrian, totally uncool. Grow the fuck up.
Sigh.
I’ve been trying to grow up my entire life.
I have at least been nice to her. I’ve bottled it up for now, and that’s a good thing. I gotta check though. Too much on my mind, and I’m angry enough to punch walls for no good reason. I can’t be doing that anymore. There’s a baby in the dorm now, and we’re running low on drywall to fix my temper tantrums.
Oh, and Michelle gave the go ahead to visit MGR on the 15th. Maybe that’s why I’m pissed. I’m not even in charge, she is. Jesus, I’m a mess.
We’re meeting with Patty and Mike to make sure everything is planned out before the NVC diplomatic mission gets there, and that the residents are comfortable with everything. I suspect it’ll be a shit sandwich covered in pee soup, and the Jinx Fairy will be floating and gloating.
Winged cunt.
-Adrian
January 16th
I’m not a dad, nor do I pretend to be one on television, but have you ever seen a protective father the first time his daughter brings a boy home? It’s like an all-stares pissing contest.
The father knows that no matter what, in the end, he’ll burn his house down, and the new kid’s parent’s house down to protect his daughter; he’ll raze the whole world to protect his little girl.
And the boy, ever mindful that in the end he’ll be set on fire… knows he’s still gonna bang the daughter, because that’s just the way it is. She shouldn’t need her dad’s protection, if the mom and dad have done a good job of raising their girl to pick the right people to have in her life.
That’s sort of what I saw going down at MGR yesterday with Mike and Patty. That’s THEIR home, THEIR daughter, and the NVC people are the boy coming over to meet mom and dad.
Stares that could light fires, man. Stares that’d freeze water solid. Crazy.
But they played nice, all for the sake of that precious daughter’s future.
Thorpe came again (I must admit, it was nice to see him) and he brought bossman King Shit of Turd Hill (north). Mizaki was a cool cucumber too. Pleasant, thankful, and happy to be meeting new, friendly people at every turn. They didn’t bring any of the other council members, but they did roll into town with two APCs, two humvees, and the helo flying overhead for the majority of the afternoon. I gotta give credit to the pilot. The weather was a little stiff today (cold, and windy) and he still put his bird in the air for his people. Ballsy. I’d like to meet him, eventually.
In short, they went all the way up to the top of the building, toured a few of the apartments, and met a good portion of the residents. In a turn of events I approved of, the ‘common people’ of the tower put them to the coals asking them questions like it was their day job. Mizaki and Thorpe had to backpedal, and talk far more than they ever had I think, and it was nice to see them scramble, and still say the right things. Maybe they’re talented talkers, but I think the verbal attack by the locals of McGreevy Russell Tower put them on their heels. The people took every chance to ask questions, and I loved every minute of it. I think I loved most that Abby was there asking questions of them, and she’ll be putting the entire conversation into her newsletter for the whole of our people to read later today.
So after the relatively brief tour (two hours, maybe three) Mizaki and Thorpe started talking a little odd with me over lunch.
“So this is the town, huh?” Thorpe kinda blurted at me. “You were pretty much just here the whole time?”
“Well, out and about. I made some forays into the city, and a few towns over to Westfield before they lost their school to a fire. I kept it close.”
“Yeah we heard about that. A couple people from the school made their way north to us after the place burnt down,” Mizaki said back. “Some kind of internal arson? Is that true?”
“Yeah. Some prick named Chris Sunderman. Made a deal with the Devil so I’m told.” I pointed at the back of my neck wher
e my scar is. “Chris came to Bastion after the fire and played nice to get close to me. He shot me in the fucking neck. Gave me a phobia about apple orchards. I can’t eat apple crisp anymore. I can’t explain to you the loss I feel over that.”
“Yeah we heard you almost bit it,” Thorpe said. “When you say ‘he made a deal with the Devil,’ you sound like you’re speaking literally. Are you?”
“It’s complicated,” Michelle answered for me because I was chewing a bite of sandwich. “The Devil Adrian speaks of isn’t the one talked about in the religious texts, per se. With the end we, and I mean mankind when I say we, narrowly avoided, there was a great power tasked with the destruction of mankind, and it was very much sentient, and willful. Manipulative and capable of vast evils. It worked against the good using evil.”
“What she said,” I added. “Sunderman tried to work his way up the evil corporate ladder by burning the school down, and then taking a shot at me. But I’m still here, and he isn’t. So read into that what you will.”
“Fated to live,” Mizaki said. “Convenient.”
“More like he was a shit rifleman,” I quipped. I didn’t say anything about Gilbert’s reloads being underpowered. They didn’t need to know about him.
“Either way, I don’t get it. How did we live for so long not knowing that God was real? How did we put ourselves in the position that he’d want to eliminate us with frigging zombies? Why would God task an evil force with the job of killing us? What God does that?”
Lot of talk about our cruel God lately, eh Mr. Journal?
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 10): The Last Resort [Adrian's March, Part 2] Page 7
