That is the only way I can describe what I saw in my vision at the church that day months ago. I try not to think of it, but I still see it in my sleep sometimes. I have spent the majority of my life in fear of being sent to one of Lui’s orphanages. I think of all those scared, suffering, kids and I know what they are thinking. If there is an end…bring it! I make it back to my room and decide I can’t stay here any longer. The next morning, I book a room closer to Tybee Island and spend the next three days lying on the beach, trying to escape the images in my head.
Chapter Ten
Jump School
M onday morning, we get processed in at Fort Benning and are ready to go. Jump school is a mixture of all the military branches, but it is predominately army. Jump school requires a little more physically, but I am actually enjoying myself. There is more freedom here than at basic or AIT. Once you are done for the day, your time is your own. Lee, Weber, Abram, and I usually hang out at the end of the day. West keeps to himself; he is becoming increasingly hostile towards Abram. I ask her what it is about, but she won’t say. From previous comments he has made about her, I can only guess, he asked her out and she said no.
Ground week and tower week fly by and now we find ourselves toeing the line, while a black hat checks our equipment for the third time. I look over at Abram who is standing across from me on the opposite yellow line. I can tell she is trying not to smile. The only sign of nerves is the slight tremor I can see in her right hand. I imagine she is filled with the same nervous excitement as I am. Weber is cool and nonplused as usual. Over the last two weeks I have gotten to know him better, and it has changed my initial perception of him. I didn’t realize before; he is twenty-six, college educated, and has worked the last four years as an ER nurse. That explains why he is so, phlegmatic.
Our first jump goes off without a hitch or so we think. On our second jump, Lee is airlifted to an emergency room. We find out later that night, he broke a rib on the first jump and didn’t tell anyone. On the second jump the broken rib punctured his lung, so now Lee is out of the game. It is doubtful we will see him again. The four of us finish our next three jumps and are all selected for the SFAS course. It is clear upon arrival a lot of the other candidates are resentful of us. Most of them have been in the service for years waiting and proving themselves for the opportunity to come to the SFAS course. But, because of military shortages and bureaucratic decisions, we get to waltz in straight from school.
Like jump school SFAS is not just army. It is comprised of the best of the best from every military branch. Those who make it through will be a unit unto themselves. They will no longer be Army, Navy, Marines or Air Force, only Delta Force. At the beginning of the second week, I can tell something is off in the barracks. There is a strange vibe, I look over and see that West’s bed has been stripped and his name has been removed from his locker. I’m not sure what went down until I make my way downstairs and head to the chow line. It’s still dark outside, so when I step into the mess hall, I am blinded by the light for a second. Soon my eyes adjust and fall on Abram in the chow line. That’s when I see her left eye is so bruised it is almost swollen shut. I quickly grab my tray of food and take a seat across from her. I notice she also has bruises around her neck. I whisper as quietly as possible.
“What the hell happened?”
She gives her head a slight shake, to make it clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. I look to Weber, who is sitting to her left. In a whisper that is almost a growl, I hear him say one word. “West”
We exchange a concerned look, which clearly irritates, Abram. She rolls her one functional eye, and hisses.
“Stop looking at me like that, I can take care of myself.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I take in her bruised face and neck.
“Obviously, you can.”
She cracks a small smile.
“You should see the other guy.”
To which, the three of us laugh, just a little too loudly.
In the next instant one of the instructors barks across the mess hall in a booming voice.
“Since, you are all done eating…formation in two minutes.”
This is received by groans and angry stares in our direction. We rush off to formation. That’s when we see West, being escorted away by two MPs. He is missing a chunk from his right ear, he has a busted lip, and his right arm is in a sling. A big grin spreads across Weber’s face, as he says, “Hell yeah, Abram, the other guy has got nothing on you!”
I think I see her blush for an instant before she falls into formation. Standing tall and proud as if she wasn’t just assaulted by a psychopath. The next three weeks of assessment and selection are exhausting physically and mentally. One by one the herd is thinned, but at the end the three of us are still here. We are elated on our last day. We have all been selected to move on through Q course. Weber, with his medical background gets selected for 18D, the Delta Force medical sergeant. His MOS training, will last the longest. Abram gets selected to train as an 18F, an intelligence sergeant. She is a computer tech genius, and she got the highest score out of everyone here on the language battery exam. I was selected for 18B, a weapons sergeant...I’m good at blowing shit up.
There are six phases we have to make it through to get call ourselves members of Delta Force. The training for Abram and I will last fifty-two weeks. Weber’s training will last ninety-four since he was selected as 18D. We go through the first three phases together, after that our day is split. We are still grouped together for the physical challenges, but then break off into our separate MOS training groups.
Weapons training is intense I am learning about weapons systems from all over the world. After seeing all the fire power, the world has available, I am a little surprised we have lasted this long. I get the itchy feeling the world is a powder keg ready to blow at any second.
Q course is the most intense and grueling experience of my life. I am almost grateful for the way my dad treated me. It has hardened me in a way that makes it possible for me to deal with the physical and mental battery I am being put through. I wonder about Abram and Weber. What happened in their lives that has made it possible for them? Is their fortitude coming from a positive and enlightened place? Or is it from a personal hell inside, like me? Do they fear the monster they are creating to survive might overtake them?
Stage four is nothing but mud, blood, and sweat. But no tears because I don’t fucking cry. Delta doesn’t cry. That’s just a waste of fucking water! I make it through everything they have to throw at me. Abram is there, not just holding her own, but she gives no indication that she is tired or suffering. I know she is, because I have never been so tired and beaten down in my life. You can occasional here the moans of pain and fatigue from the guys about to break…but no emotion, no sound escapes her. I can’t stop thinking about how she does it; what made her into what she is?
Graduation week comes with little fanfare for me. There is no family here for me. What I find interesting, is that there is no one here for Abram either. No proud parents embracing her. I don’t know why it seems more wrong for her to be alone than me, maybe because, she is only the second female to make it through delta force training. After graduation I head out to meet the other guys that Abram and I will be joining to complete funny platoon. Funny platoon is the intelligence gathering platoon. Abram and I will be filling the two slots left open after two of their guys retired. On my way out, I see Weber who is still in MOS training, he is with Abram. I am shocked to see a smile on her face. I realize suddenly that they are in a relationship. I have no idea how long it has been going on. I have never seen them actually touch each other, but their body language is clear.
I take my time getting to Stevie’s. It is a little dive bar in Fayetteville, where we are supposed to meet our team. I scan the scene and notice Abram has still not arrived. I am relieved that no one is talking shit about her in her absence. She proved herself during training and has clearly, been accepted into the brotherhood
.
A week later Abram and I are comfortably ensconced in our ODA, or operational detachment alpha. We are made up of twelve soldiers, the captain, the chief, and two sergeants from each specialty: weapons, communications, engineering, medical and intelligence. I engage in conversation when I should, but really, I’m trying to figure them all out. I want to know what makes them tick, who I can trust, and who is likely loyal to Lui. From all appearances, so far, there is only loyalty to the team and the current mission. Delta Force is made up of societies outliers, not fitting the mold of soldier, but dangerous enough to be useful. It makes me think maybe it’s possible that this group is loyal only to each other. Though, with a few members, there is an underlying current of something I can’t quite put my finger on. I decide that doesn’t prove loyalty to Lui…they could just have terrible personalities.
After getting my on-post housing assignment, I go to the commissary to fill my fridge and pantry with the basic necessities. I pick up a carton of eggs and turn around to find Weber walking towards me. We smile and shake hands.
“How did you escape, I thought you were still in MOS training?”
“They give us an occasional day of leave, so we don’t go completely bat shit crazy.”
I notice he has a bouquet of flowers in his basket. I raise my eyebrows and incline my head towards the flowers.
“Hot date?”
He shrugs noncommittally. So, I decide to poke the bear.
“Man, Abram was a beast on the course. I’d love to find out what make it makes her tick.”
And just like that, the always calm, and affable Weber, dissipates. His posture is ramrod straight as he tries, and pretty much fails to contain the contention in his voice.
“I can tell you for a fact she is not interested in getting involved with anyone in her ODA!”
I just smile and give him a smack on the shoulder as I lean in and give one last knowing look to the flowers.
“Tell Abram, I said hi.”
I start to walk off as a nearly silent curse escapes Weber’s mouth. He grabs my arm with a firm grip from behind.
“Look, Malone…it’s important that no one know about Abram, and me. It could ruin everything she has worked for.”
I look him in the eye and hope he sees my sincerity.
“I know… I have no intention of breathing a word. Your secret is safe with me, I swear it.”
He blows out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you”
“But I really am curious, about what drives her. I have never seen anyone handle that level of physical, mental and emotional distress and maintain complete composure at all times.”
“She’s had a lot of practice.”
It slips from his mouth and the moment he says it, I can tell he regrets it. My eyebrows lift slightly, but I say nothing.
“Look, if you want to know Abram’s personal business, you’ll have to ask her. She is a very private person and doesn’t share easily. It’s not a good idea to push her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, but hopefully one day she will trust me enough to tell me her story. I have a feeling we have a similar background.”
“I doubt it…but then, you don’t tell your story either, so it’s hard to say.”
Chapter Eleven
First Mission
T he team is just finishing a workout when we get called into headquarters. As we walk in, the buzz of energy coming off the team is so strong it feels like my skin is vibrating. I suppress the anxious grin that wants to creep onto my lips. It will only serve as a reminder that this is the first mission for Abram, and I. The rest of our team is experienced. Crowder, one of our Engineers was the newbie before us, and he has been with the team for five years. Doc Love, (and that is his actual last name) has been with the team the longest, at twelve years. He looks anything but loving, but when he speaks the scary façade of a grizzly bear slips away. That’s when you can see the glimmer of understanding and compassion within his battle-weary eyes.
We pass by all the shiny polished floors and make our way to a small, dreary room with old fluorescent lighting that gives off an annoying hum. Chief Gonzalez, looks at Abram and me, obviously seeing the question in our eyes. Basically, why we are meeting in a room that looks like a big janitor’s closet with a table?
“They call it the quiet room. It’s the most secure location in Ft. Bragg to receive intel. It’s where we get our mission briefings.”
Immediately after this statement a little, weasel, looking man, who identifies himself as Mr. Burrow walks in. Presumably, the rest of the team already knows this man, and from their collective air of hostility, it’s clear they do not like him. Burrow hits a few buttons on his phone, then lays it on the table. He turns off the lights, and without greeting begins.
“Operation “two birds”: These two, countries, have just been named enemies of the U.A. It has been ascertained that they are having secret meetings to rally against our nation’s upcoming agricultural advancements.”
While this information is received in complete silence, I observe my comrades closely. There is a small twitch in Abram’s cheek, which lets me know she is clenching her teeth. Clayton, one of the communication sergeants, tries to relax his neck, but this only magnifies the vein that is now bulging from, said neck. I found out a couple of days ago, that Clayton comes from seven generations of farmers put out of business by Agrisin. There is no way he doesn’t have a grudge against them. Therefore, he probably isn’t a hundred percent loyal to the U.A. Though, I am not sure what it means, I see doc Love’s fist clenched, just before he uncurls it. The rest of the team is unreadable, or I am to slow to catch their reactions. I turn my attention back to Burrow, as he prattles on.
“Your mission is to find out what they plan to do. Specifically, we need this team to find out what information they have, and how they plan to use it? Their next meeting is in sixteen hours. You will be leaving from loading zone J in ninety minutes.”
Burrow then turns to Captain Harkins.
“All relevant information has been uploaded into your tactical helmet.”
Burrow leaves the room, and to no one in particular, I ask.
“If all relevant information has been loaded into the Captain’s helmet, why did they call us all here?”
Kelsey the other weapons sergeant gives me a snide look.
“It’s a test, tenderfoot, they want to see where you stand. They know who you are and where you come from. The U.A. wants to be sure you can serve their purpose. My guess is Burrow was eyeing Abram.”
He turns towards Abram and she stares back with an uninterested expression.
“You see Abram, here, is a bit of a peculiarity. She grew up in one of Lui’s orphanages, but professes loyalty to the U.A. What’s it like to claw your way to survival every day?”
Kelsey looks her up and down slowly. He scrutinizes every twitch, and every breath, that she slowly and calmly exhales.
“Needless to say, her loyalty is questionable. Can you be loyal Abram?”
Just like that all the pieces to the puzzle fit. Abram has more practice at surviving, than anyone in this room. That’s how she could be strong and emotionless during training, while being battered, cold and hungry. To outlive a childhood like that, you would have to develop a heart of stone.
Abram doesn’t move a muscle, though she can’t control the fact that her face is now red with anger. Kelsey continues on with his arrogant rant, turning his snide comments towards me.
“But you’re not much better are you Malone, that mean old drunk, you call a daddy smack you around?”
“Enough!” Doc Love’s bellow reverberates within the cinderblock room. Then more calmly he says to Abram and me. “There are no secrets in this ODA…most of us aren’t assholes about it, though.”
Abram pushes off of the table she has been leaning against and in a mocking tone asks.
“So, what’s your secret Kelsey?”
“No secret, just a rich boy from
Connecticut…I didn’t crawl out of the gutter.”
She scoffs
“That explains why you look like such, a fucking pansy.”
To this Kelsey cracks a broad smile.
“You’ll fit in just fine here, Abram.”
This statement is met with simultaneous grunts of approval. Chief Becket clears his throat.
“If you’re all done with your meet and greet; we have work to do. Be at LZ J in 40 minutes.”
Forty minutes later we are loading into a Cyclone 52, a helicopter flown only by the Night Stalkers, an elite group of pilots, who specialize in black ops missions. I take a look around the Cyclone as we settle in, and chuckle to myself at the name. The Night Stalkers used to fly black hawks, until the government contracted out with a vacuum cleaner company. Using the companies, technology to create a helicopter that is nearly silent. So, now the biggest bad asses in the military fly around in a helicopter named after a vacuum cleaner.
We are all pretty quiet as the captain, reviews the intel from the computer screen, in his helmet. My mind drifts while I wait to hear more details about my first mission. I think about Abram, surviving Lui’s orphanages, most don’t make it out, let alone healthy and strong. How did she do it, and why the hell would she go into service. It doesn’t add up she must have an ulterior motive for being here. I wish I knew if I could trust her, only time will tell. The stakes are too high, to have faith in the wrong person. The penalty for service member disloyalty ranges from ten years in a prison work camp to public execution.
The captain lifts off his helmet, and takes out a map, signaling he is ready to brief us. He looks up for half a second before pointing to a spot on the map.
Half Dead World: Book One from the Apocalypse Tales Page 13
