by Lucas Marcum
One of the riders lowered a crossbow and made as if to reload it. Next to O’Malley, the sudden bark of a rifle startled him as Ewart opened up with his M16. He was quickly joined by Williams, still in the rear of the truck. The riders slowed down, then two of them vanished into the undergrowth on either side of the road. The remaining two advanced, but at a slower pace, with their shields now in front of them. The rifle rounds sparked off the shields.
Specialist Beck popped up and fired as well. As she pulled the trigger, she yelled, “Get in, dumbass!” Ewart dropped his rifle to its sling and scrambled up into the back of the truck.
Acevedo and O’Malley ran for the cab of the truck and piled in through the passenger side. Acevedo was the last in, diving across the laps of O’Malley and the terrified private who’d been driving.
“GO, GO, GO!” she screamed.
Henderson jerked the truck into gear. As it shuddered into motion, an armored glove appeared in his open window, and a grotesque face showed itself. It roared something in a guttural language and drew back its other arm, which held a long, black sword with cruel looking barbs running up and down the length, clearly preparing to strike. Acevedo raised the pistol she still had in her hand, pointed it at the orc’s face, and squeezed the trigger twice. The monstrous face disappeared into a dark ruin, and it fell backwards silently and vanished as the truck flew down the road. There was a stunned silence in the cab of the truck for a few seconds as they sped away.
Struggling to right herself, Acevedo found herself sitting, facing the private on his lap, with her knees on either side of his legs. Her face was inches from his. She smiled and said, “I’m Sergeant Acevedo. How are you? What’s your name?” She holstered her pistol as she spoke.
“Uh…fine, Sergeant? And my name is…Stennis?” The young man sounded stunned.
“Great. Stennis, lean over.” She leaned past him and slammed the small window open, which let her see into the rear of the truck. “Hey! Ewart! Anyone! You guys ok?”
There was some muttered swearing, then Ewart appeared, shoving his way past the remaining junk. He pushed a file cabinet over, moved next to the window, and replied, “Yes, Sergeant. I think we lost them. They shot a couple more arrows but didn’t hit us.” The truck jolted hard as it hit a bump. Acevedo turned and snapped, “Henderson, slow the fuck down. We’re no good if we die in a wreck.”
“Yes, Sergeant.” The young man slowed the truck slightly.
Turning her head to O’Malley, Acevedo said, “Sir, want to find us a way out of here?”
“Way ahead of you.” O’Malley was already scrutinizing the map he’d taken off the dash of the truck.
Turning back to the private between her knees, Acevedo grinned and wiggled her hips. “You know, people usually have to buy me a drink before they get this. Don’t get used to it.” With a laugh at the dumbfounded look on the private’s face, she raised her leg and said, “Scoot.” A quick twist, and she plopped down next to O’Malley. A moment later she said, “Sir, we can’t keep getting lucky like this. Eventually, we’re gonna have to fight again.”
O’Malley glanced at her and grimaced. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Sergeant.” He fell silent, and for a long time, the only sound in the cab was the low rumble of the engine.
-4-
“The Lonely Grave of Nicole Agostine”
The Allegheny Foothills
Pennsylvania
The drone of the engine had lulled Sergeant Olivia Acevedo to sleep, despite her best efforts to stay awake. She woke with a start. The sun was higher in the sky, and O’Malley was speaking to Henderson.
“How much?”
“A quarter of a tank, maybe less. The gauge keeps fluctuating. Either way, we need gas soon, sir.”
“Shit.” O’Malley opened the map and stared hard at it, then leaned forward and squinted at the skies.
Alarmed, Acevedo asked, “You see something, Captain?”
“Just a bird.” O’Malley’s face was lined with fatigue. “But there’s got to be dozens, if not hundreds of vehicles heading out of the Gap. We’re sitting ducks during the daylight, just like we were leaving Lancaster. We gotta get off the road.” He looked back down at the map, then said suddenly, “Henderson, in about a mile, there should be a road on the right. Take it.”
“You got it, boss,” the private answered. He looked down at the instrument panel again. “The engine temp is rising, too. If we get time, we need to let this bitch cool down before we overheat.”
“Ok.” O’Malley sighed and rubbed his face. The five-ton truck rounded a curve. Ahead of them in the breakdown lane was an armored Humvee. No soldiers were visible, and the vehicle showed no signs of damage. It had a mounted .50-caliber machine gun in the turret that pointed at the sky. The doors stood open, and a rifle lay abandoned on the ground by the driver’s side door.
“Slow down,” O’Malley ordered. Henderson obligingly slowed the truck. About 30 yards away, he came to a stop. O’Malley leaned forward, scrutinizing it carefully. Without taking his eyes off the vehicle, he said, “Sergeant. Thoughts?”
Slowly Acevedo replied, “I think we gotta at least look, sir.” She glanced over at him. “We can’t leave soldiers behind.”
“Yeah.” O’Malley put his hand on the door handle and grasped his rifle. “Get Ewart out here.” He opened the door and slid out. He raised the rifle, his eyes scanning the trees around them, and said, “Keep the engine running, and if anything happens, haul ass.”
“Make it fast, Captain,” Acevedo replied. She leaned over, banged on the window, and called into the back, “Ewart! You’re with the captain. We got an abandoned truck up here.”
“Moving, Sergeant!” the soldier replied promptly. A few seconds later, his boots hit the pavement, then he appeared next to the captain. He raised his rifle and nodded.
O’Malley moved up quickly, his rifle trained on the seemingly abandoned Humvee. Ewart held his position next to the hood of the truck, his eyes scanning the trees around them. Reaching the truck, O’Malley rapidly peered into the rear, then glanced into the front. Seeing no one, he frowned, then gestured for Ewart to move up.
Crossing the 30 yards of space at a quick jog, Ewart moved up next to O’Malley.
“Find anything?” he asked, his eyes still scanning out.
“No, but there’s a ton of equipment here. Body armor, helmets, all sorts of stuff.”
Ewart risked a quick look into the driver’s side of the truck. A pile of equipment and clothing lay on the seat, topped with an Army combat helmet. A pair of boots sat on the floorboard, one still resting on the brake. A pile of fine sand was inside all the clothing and spilled out of the boots.
“What the fuck…’ O’Malley muttered, seeing the interior in more detail. The scene was repeated in the rear of the vehicle.
In an odd, flat voice, Ewart said, “Sir, I don’t think the soldiers left their vehicle. I think that dust is what’s left.”
“Yeah.” The two men stared in silence for a moment, then O’Malley said in a distant tone, “We should get their tags.”
“Yes, but we also need to take their weapons and ammo,” Ewart replied. He slung his rifle on his back, picked up the rifle from the ground, and slung it, too. “They don’t need them anymore.”
“Good call,” O’Malley replied. “Actually, that reminds me…” He leaned in and turned the ignition key. The instrument panel came to life. He frowned and tapped the fuel gauge. “Empty. Oh, well.”
Busily pulling rifles and magazines out of the tangles of clothing, Ewart suddenly paused and looked up. “Can we take that?” He pointed at the .50-caliber machine gun in the turret.
O’Malley looked up at the weapon, then at Ewart. “If you can get it off, sure.”
Ewart set the four rifles he had in his arms down and pulled a multitool off his body armor. “Sir, anything the Army locks down, I can get into.” With a lopsided grin, he added, “I’m a specialist, remember?”
Shaking his h
ead, O’Malley turned and waved to the truck, indicating they should move up. When it had pulled up next to him, he called up to Acevedo, “The soldiers are gone. We’re going to take what we can. Keep the engine running, and get me two people to strip this Humvee.”
“You got it.” Acevedo turned and yelled instructions through the hatch.
Up on top of the Humvee, Ewart laughed and exclaimed, “Mine, bitch!” He hefted the bulk of the M2 in his arms and stepped to the edge. “Sir, you mind?” O’Malley took the heavy weapon as he handed it down. Ewart followed a moment later, then turned and clambered back into the Humvee. He rummaged for a moment, then called out, “Score! Nods!”
He held a dark green bag containing a pair of night vision goggles out the door. Acevedo, who’d clambered down from the truck, took them and replied, “These’ll come in handy.” She turned and handed them to Beck and Stennis, who’d climbed out of the truck as well. “You two take all the stuff Ewart scavenges and load it. Williams, you’re on security. Watch the far side of the truck. In the meantime, everyone take a minute to piss and stretch your legs, then we’re moving.” She looked at the sky nervously, then stepped up to the door of the Humvee, where O’Malley was carefully collecting dog tags from the piles of silvery sand, and shivered. After a moment, she asked, “Sir, what’s the plan?”
“We keep moving west. Into the hills.” He held up a map. “There’s a couple places marked here that seem like fallback points.” He stuffed the map into an equipment pouch. “It’s more than we had before.” He looked at the dog tag in his hand, then put it into another pouch, and looked at Acevedo. “We have to get off the road, though. Something got these guys, and we’re basically defenseless out here.”
“Yeah.” Acevedo looked around, then said, “Any idea where?”
“Nope. I was planning to find a fire road, then pull off under the trees and wait till dark.” He climbed out of the truck. “I’m open to ideas if you got ‘em.”
“Me?” With a tense laugh, Acevedo replied, “My only idea is to not get eaten by a dragon or turned into a charcoal briquette!”
With a lopsided grin, O’Malley replied, “Sort of my plan too.”
Her grin fading, the short sergeant added, “But we’re gonna need to come up with something. We don’t have a lot of water, and only a couple of MREs. We got no place to sleep, and we’re damn short on ammo.” She gestured at the Humvee. “This’ll help, but it’s only a temporary measure.”
“Yeah.” O’Malley rubbed his face, then sighed. “First things first. Let’s find cover and make it to tonight.”
“Right.” Acevedo turned and raised her voice. “Ok, people. Back in the truck. Time to move.” The soldiers hurriedly finished loading the truck and scrambled in.
***
Ten minutes later, Henderson slowed the truck and turned off the paved road onto a small, unpaved road that led into the forest. Overhead, the thick branches obscured the sky. Easing the large truck along the ruts in the thick forest, they came to a wide spot about 50 yards from the road.
“Ok. Stop here,” O’Malley ordered. Henderson pulled the truck over and shut the engine off. There was a sudden silence, broken only by the ticking of the cooling engine. After a moment, O’Malley said, “Ok. Everyone out. Acevedo, set up a security rotation. Get Ewart to cross-level ammo and make sure everyone has a functional weapon and armor.” He popped open the door and slid out. He took a deep breath and noticed how quiet it was, a stark contrast to the violence and terror of the past five days.
He took a few steps and felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him. He was so exhausted, he didn’t hear the voice speaking to him until it repeated itself.
“Captain O’Malley. Are you ok?” The voice sounded concerned.
Turning, he saw Colonel Suarez next to him, looking worried. Rubbing his face, he replied, “I’m fine, Colonel. Just tired.”
Tilting her head to the side, she looked at him critically, then said firmly, “You’re going to get a few hours of sleep, Captain. Doctor’s orders. But first, we have something to take care of.” She looked somber. “We need to take care of Lieutenant Agostine.”
Perplexed, O’Malley looked at her for a moment, then asked, “Who’s Lieutenant Agostine?”
With a frown, the surgeon replied, “She’s the lieutenant in the back who’s been in there with us.” She held out an Army identification card. O’Malley accepted it and looked at it. The young woman was smiling brightly in her photograph, and the card was nearly brand new. Silently, he held it out. Taking it back, the medical officer said somberly, “There’s a shovel in the truck. I can start digging a grave.”
“What, here?” O’Malley was startled. He looked around. Apart from the truck on the overgrown fire road and the small group of soldiers, it looked like no human had been there for hundreds of years.
“Yes, here,” Colonel Suarez replied. “We can’t keep her in the truck, and we can’t just leave her for the animals.” She looked around, and then up at the trees. “We can leave her here until someone can come back for her.” The woman hesitated, then said quietly, “Plus, it’s beautiful. She won’t be disturbed here.”
O’Malley looked at the officer for a moment, then nodded. “Let me get the troops to help you.”
***
Half an hour later, Williams and Henderson had dug a grave at the foot of a large oak tree. Colonel Suarez had wiped the young woman’s face and wrapped her in a tarp. Only her face, pale and peaceful, was visible. The soldiers gathered silently, staring down at the young woman.
After a moment, O’Malley cleared his throat. “I…um. I’ve never done this before.” He looked at the small group, clad in their in filthy uniforms, faces lined with exhaustion. “Does…” O’Malley hesitated. “Does anyone have anything to say?”
There was a beat of silence, then Private Stennis stepped forward. “I do.” He stared down at the tarp wrapped figure for a moment, then said in a clear, firm voice, “Lieutenant Agostine was a good officer. She was fair and treated me and all the junior enlisted like people. She’d always say hello when she saw me come into the office, and sometimes she sent us pizza when we were on gate guard or staff duty.” He looked down at the young woman’s face for a long moment, then continued, “She was a good person, a good soldier, a good officer, and she deserved better than this.” His face clouded. “She deserved more than an unmarked grave in the woods of Pennsylvania, because some fucking elves thought they could take what didn’t belong to them.” He looked up, his young face twisted in grief and fury. “I couldn’t save Lieutenant Agostine, but you can be damn sure I’ll avenge her.” He fell silent and stepped back, staring at the ground.
Nodding, O’Malley slowly replied, “Thank you, Private Stennis. Anyone else?”
No one spoke for a long moment, then Colonel Suarez stepped forward. She held out her hand and opened it, revealing a small medal with a picture and an inscription on it. “This is my Saint Michael’s medal. My mother gave it to me to protect me when I went to Iraq the first time. Maybe it’ll protect her here.” Kneeling, she tucked the medal into the tarp next to the young woman’s chest, then rose. After a moment, she said distantly, “I don’t remember the prayer that went with it. My mother would kill me.” She stepped back and fell silent.
Acevedo spoke up. “I do.” She cleared her throat. “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.” She bowed her head and stared at the leaf covered forest floor.
“Thank you, Sergeant Acevedo,” O’Malley replied. “You may carry out the burial.”
Rising, Acevedo nodded sharply, moved to the head of the grave, and spoke, her voice clear and firm as she gave the command. “Funeral Party, attention! Burial detail, post!”
Hend
erson and Williams stepped forward and stood at attention at the head and foot of the lieutenant’s body.
“Funeral party, present ARMS!” The soldiers saluted as one.
“Burial Detail, prepare to lower…LOWER!” The two soldiers gently lowered the young woman’s body into the grave. When she’d been gently laid in the grave, Acevedo ordered, “Funeral party, order ARMS!” The soldiers dropped their salute as one. “Funeral party, at ease.” The ragged soldiers relaxed. “Funeral party, dismissed.” The exhausted soldiers filed away silently.
As Henderson and Williams gently shoveled the soil onto the wrapped remains, Ewart stepped forward. He had a piece of metal, torn from an ammunition can. On it he’d scored the words ‘2LT Nicole Agostine. 2/14/1991– 8/26/2015. Killed in Action.’ He took the plate of metal and hammered it to the tree over the grave.
Catching O’Malley’s eye, Ewart said, “If we don’t make it, someone will eventually find her.” He looked at the grave, which the two privates were packing down and covering with rocks. “She’s ok out here for now, but eventually we need to move her to lay next to her brothers and sisters.”
Nodding silently, O’Malley walked back to the truck.
“Captain. Come here.” Colonel Suarez’s voice was insistent. He walked wearily to the back of the truck and looked up. She gestured impatiently. “Up here, please.”
After several false starts, he managed to climb into the rear of the truck. Suarez patted the bench they’d folded down now that the computers and cabinets had been removed. O’Malley sat and struggled out of his body armor. The physician wrapped an Army-issue wool blanket over his shoulders and gently guided him to lie down, placing his head on a folded field jacket. As he opened his mouth to protest, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.
-5-
“Kill Box”
The Allegheny Foothills
Pennsylvania
The engine of the five-ton truck coughed and died. Henderson steered it towards the shoulder of the road and shut the engine off. He looked at O’Malley apologetically. “Sorry, sir. That’s it. If we’d made it to the top of the hill, I might’ve been able to coast it down, but old Bernice just didn’t have the get up and go.”
