“Yes, sir.”
The colonel turned to Eliza. “Ms. Sherr, can I ask what you were thinking when you pulled off your helmet? Your action created a diversion that those fuckers took full advantage of.”
Eliza was exhausted but she straightened her spine saying, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I was trying to do what you are doing right now, Colonel, trying to communicate more effectively.”
MacAfee pointed at Hansel and Gretel. “That’s what they’re for!”
Eliza glanced at the children who were still deeply distraught over what they had experienced and said, “It wasn’t working.”
“So you decided to put all of us in danger by winging it? What the hell does Arthur says eat -”
Gretel interrupted, “Your helmet, quick!”
“Excuse me?”
“Put your helmet back on, Dustin MacAfee!”
“Are you threatening me, you vile little...” MacAfee’s posture suddenly went ramrod straight.
Eliza looked at Gretel. “No. Leave him alone.”
Hansel said, “It’s not Gretel. It’s them.” He pointed at the fence. With night vision, the crew saw dozens of bright eyes staring at them through the skeletons, with more of them coming every second.
With a slurred voice, MacAfee said, “Mommy.” Then he slipped his pistol out of its holster, placed the barrel under his chin and rained his brains all over the desert floor.
Dean didn’t hesitate. “Mount up now! Blakely, get this thing moving!”
There was a mad scramble as everyone ran to the train, bunching up on the entrances. Hernandez, KK and Green opened fire in the general direction of the fence. In moments, the locomotive’s wheels were trying to gain traction and slowly slipping on the rails. The soldiers were the last onboard as the headlight blazed a path on the empty rails ahead. Everyone continued to lay down suppressing fire from the windows as Hernandez scrambled back up to her position on the top of the engine. The pucks beyond the fence disappeared from view. With few targets, the shooting slowed down and finally stopped.
“We left the colonel,” Green said to KK.
Kile flicked a bit of bloody skull off his shoulder. “I doubt he minds.”
“That was a twist,” said Ensign Palmer with shock in his eyes. “I mean one moment he’s cussing Eliza about uncovering and next he’s blowing his brains out. Ironic, am I right?”
Green shoved his elbow into the bosun’s throat and pushed the man against a wall. “The hell’s wrong with you, asshole? We just lost the colonel.”
“Enough!” yelled Dean. “Back off, Sergeant.” He clicked his mic. “Hernandez, get back to observation. Sergeant Green will replace you on the engine.” He looked at the sergeant who had flipped up his visor, a questioning look on his face. Dean flipped it back down. “You’re trying to figure the line of authority right now, Sergeant. I’ll sort it out with Hernandez. Go take your post.” Green hesitated for a moment longer then left. Except for the sound of the wheels clicking on the rails, the room was dead silent. Kile, KK, Palmer, Cinders and Jamesbonds kept their weapons trained outside. Cookie, Eliza and the pucks seemed to be in mild shock. Sanders began to speak, but Dean cut him off. “Save it ‘til Dez gets here.” The room remained silent until Hernandez entered, her gun at rest but her body sprung for action. “We gotta go back. We don’t leave our dead. We go back. That’s an order. We get the colonel and then we turn this bitch around. This mission is scrubbed.”
Cinders jumped in. “She’s right, Cap. This is bullshit. Bullshit.” He pointed at Hansel and Gretel and said, “I say we shoot these two and turn the fuck around.”
Eliza put herself between Cinders and the pucks.
Dean let the conversation lay there for a long beat and then said, “While I agree with you in spirit, Chief, I don’t condone sending more to die to collect the already dead. We’re not going back.”
Dez clicked her mic. “Blakely, stop the train.”
“Belay that order, Marshall,” said Dean.
Cinders aimed his Punisher at the pucks. “Bye bye.” And was just as quickly disarmed by Dean who twisted the gun out of the man’s hands, pulled the clip and racked the chambered round onto the deck. Dean looked at the astonished man square in the eyes and said, “Retire to your quarters, Cinders.” He handed the gun to Sanders and turned to Palmer. “Ensign, help Cinders to his quarters. Cookie, get him a bite to eat.”
Cinder’s fire went out. “I’m, I’m sorry, sir. Don’t know what came over me.” He stepped down the stairs, Cookie saying, “A little food in you and you’ll be right as rain.”
Hernandez said, “We’re turning this thing around, Captain.”
“We’re not, Chief.”
“This is not a democracy, Captain Dean. We are turning around.” She keyed her mic and said, “Marshall Blakely. I order you to bring this train to a stop and reverse her direction.”
There was a pause and then Wen said, “Is that an order from Captain Dean?”
“No, it’s an order from me. The order of command puts me in charge of this mission. I’m ordering you to reverse course.”
There was another pause. “But Captain Dean is in charge of the train. Is this your wish, Captain?”
Dean keyed his mic and said, “Please proceed in our westerly direction, Marshall. The Chief and I are working things out.”
Hernandez brought her weapon up and pointed it at Dean. “Listen, motherfucker. I’m not fucking around here. Turn the train around.” Hernandez suddenly found herself with four guns pointed at her by the captain’s crew. Corporal Kelly kept her gun pointed toward the floor. Hernandez, with her gun still pointed at Dean said, “Corporal?”
KK shrugged, “Like you said, Chief. It’s not a democracy.”
Hernandez’s eye’s narrowed and she whispered, “Bitch,” under her breath.
Dean said, “For the time being, Chief, I’m going to ask Mr. Kile to hold onto your weapon.”
She calmly put the safety on her gun and handed it to Kile. “This is mutiny.”
“We can let the courts figure that out when we get home.”
“We’re not getting home.” Hernandez turned and walked down the stairs.
Dean said, “Mr. Kile and Mr. Boonmee will accompany you, Chief. Gentlemen, please make sure that Chief Warrant Officer Hernandez is comfortable. Ask Cookie to get her a bite as well.”
“Yes, sir,” said Kile, as he and Jamesbonds followed the soldier down the stairs.
“So we go on.” Sanders stated the fact rather than the question.
Dean turned to Eliza, “Do you have an opinion, Doctor Sherr?”
“We would turn around to what end?”
Dean looked at the pucks. “And you two? Do you perceive more danger ahead than behind?”
“Danger to whom?” asked Gretel, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You killed so many.”
Dean frowned and said, “Gretel, I’m sorry it was so frightening.”
There was a long pause before Hansel said, “Take off your helmet, Stewart Dean.”
Dean stood still without making a move either way.
Gretel said, “Please take off your helmet, Stewart. We need to show you something.”
Dean lifted his hands to the strap.
“Skipper, don’t,” said Sanders, his hand making the slightest movement toward his holstered pistol as he scanned the eyes of the pucks for trouble.
Dean put a gentle hand up to stay Sander’s concern. Before he unbuckled, Gretel said, “He will be safe. You will be safe.” He took the helmet off and as his perception adjusted to the world without the device’s protection, his mind filled with the combined consciousness of the children. It was at once fearful and full of need for a figure of authority and control. The emotions overwhelmed Dean’s own and he felt his chest tighten, involuntary tears fill his eyes and deep sorrow enveloped him. Flashes of bullets entering a body jolted his own sense memories: he’d been shot t
wice, blown up, and bitten by Fiends. He felt again the fear, the surprise, the punch, the need to take cover, even if under a leaf. He doubled over involuntarily and Sanders put a hand on him, steadying him, “Please, Captain, put your helmet back on.” Dean waved the man off and then felt another consciousness enter the fray. Eliza had taken her helmet off again. Her concern for him and the children swirled through the mix, muddying the message that the children were sending and they pushed their thoughts harder. Like an instant replay of the recent events, he felt the minds of puck after puck snuffed out - terror, shear terror, pain and confusion, the blazing light and noise of guns, the wet snapping sounds of flesh and bone tearing, shattering bodies, and the lights of consciousness going out one by one and… nothing. Profound nothing. Eliza moaned with the agony and despair of it. Hansel and Gretel bawled out loud with the misery of it. Dean, who had witnessed or had been personally responsible for so much slaughter during his life, couldn’t equate it to anything he had ever known. For the first time in his career as a merchant of death, as an artist, maestro, servant of death, he finally comprehended what the reaper reaped. As Eliza began to cry, it took all he had not to break down and join her.
“Stew?” questioned Sanders, deep concern in his voice. Others in the room were paralyzed with indecision.
Dean continued to wave his first mate off. “It’s okay. Okay.” He put a hand on Eliza’s shoulder and he was suddenly transported to a different level of perception, impossible to describe, not so much as between himself and Eliza but something far more intimate. Countless invisible hands seem to touch him, offering the reassurance that a baby might feel in the loving arms of its parents. He felt unsteady on his feet even as he sensed his body feeling lighter than air. He countered it by crouching, by offering comforting touches to Hansel and Gretel who had already crouched feebly to the floor. The physical contact with them only served to intensify the sensations. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he found himself saying not from conviction but to ground all of them in some sense of reality. He perceived gratefulness from the children; the burden of so much anguish lifting, and then something unexpected: Eliza’s heart was beating in a way that touched his own. He could feel the rhythm of it and his own heartbeat naturally lined up with hers, drumming in tandem. Warmth flowed from her in a way that he had only felt once; a fraction of this, a lifetime ago when he fell in love with his wife. He looked in Eliza’s eyes and she back at him. She didn’t flinch. Instead, the vessel that contained her every thought about him opened like a flower in a time-lapse video and he became almost instantly erect with intense arousal. Eliza, with a feeling of deep growing warmth in her gut, was reflecting the same arousal in return. The twins suddenly began laughing, and she broke their eye contact with a raised eyebrow at Dean that didn’t judge, but was instead a look of happy amusement. In an instant, as the children pulled back, the cluster of emotions suddenly cut off.
“Stewart? Are you in there?” Sanders waved his hand in front of the captain’s face.
Dean blinked at his first mate and stood awkwardly, covering his still pulsing erection while clearing his throat, “I’m okay. Really. It’s okay.” He composed himself and spoke to the pucks as quietly as the noisy train would allow. “I’m sorry you two. I’m sorry that you experienced that back there. I know you know death. Hansel, you experience it gleefully every time you summon a bird to those very sharp teeth of yours. Killing any sentient thing comes with great cost. You must know that it may happen again. That it will likely happen again.” Then he spoke louder for all to hear. “Unless we figure out a better way to communicate with the pucks out there, it will happen again. The colonel wasn’t wrong about that.” He looked around the room and then focused back on Gretel and Hansel. “Let’s not forget. Those pucks were hunting. They were using the same diversionary tactics as a wolf pack. No matter what, no matter how hard you tried to communicate, they froze you out. They weren’t interested in parley, they were interested in eating or God only knows.” He slipped his helmet on and keyed his mic. “This is your captain. We are going to carry on with our mission. Going back is certain death. As of this moment, I am taking command of this operation.” He looked at Corporal Kelly, who shrugged in acquiescence. He paused to let Green break in if he was going to, then continued, “As before, Chief Hernandez will be responsible for maintaining our military readiness. To put distance between us and the pucks, we will risk travel by night. I intend to reach Tucson and hopefully more water by first light. Any questions?”
Blakely keyed in, “Uh, yeah. We’re hungry up here. What’s Cookie got going?”
People laughed in the observation room and the tension dissipated like the smoke they left behind. Without being asked, everyone returned to his or her individual duties.
Eliza stepped close to Dean and said, “I’m so sorry. I mean about before, trying to bite you. I had no control. That wasn’t me.”
“I know. I get it.”
“I don’t know who Arthur is, but I had an insatiable need to eat.”
Dean smiled, “Trust me, I got it. It’s okay. We just need to be really careful about letting them in. Now, about that other thing.” He was still covering his only slightly receding erection.
She gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand with meaning while mouthing, “Wow.” She turned to Hansel and Gretel. “Let’s go downstairs kids. We need to eat.”
Dean watched Eliza descend and she turned and mouthed, “Wow,” again. He chuckled and smiled back; nodding his head with continued astonishment.
He gave Hernandez time to collect herself before seeing her. The woman sat in the corner that she had made into her bunk and stared at nothing. Kile and Boonmee sat nearby, giving the soldier the room to cool down. As Dean approached her, Dez remained focused on nothing, her body language not even acknowledging him. He sat about three feet away and said, “Chief. This was always going to be a difficult trip. You knew that. You knew that it had a high probability of being one-way, yet you signed up. Like you, I come from a marshal culture of leaving no one behind, but I also believe in success over doctrine. Unlike any mission you or I have undertaken before -”
Hernandez held up a hand and cast her gaze toward him in a lugubrious manner. She held it for several seconds before finally stating, “Captain Dean, in front of these two witnesses, I am formally charging you with mutiny. I will provide a written statement within twenty-four hours. Under grave protest, in the best interests of the crew and this mission, I subject myself to your authority until such time as you are either dead or we have returned and you can face court marshal. In the interim and through the duration of this mission, as you suggested over the comm, I will maintain the military readiness of our team.”
“Dez, you’ve been under personal duress since this mission began-”
Her eyes hardened. “Don’t patronize me, Captain. You will refer to me as Chief or Chief Warrant Officer Hernandez. If we were home, you would already be in prison. You will respect my authority as well as my training. You may have been a decorated Seal, but I’ve been out here. I’ve observed these mutant fucking things. My fellow soldiers and I have trained hard for this mission. We know what we’re supposed to do.”
Dean kept his mouth shut. He wanted to say something like - If that’s the case then you should have known better than to order the train to reverse into a clear death trap. But he didn’t. She needed to save face. So instead he said, “Very well, Chief.” He turned to Kile, “Mr. Kile will you please return Chief Hernandez her wea-”
KK urgently called from the top of the stairs, “Captain, you need to take a look at this.” All of them quickstepped it topside where Kelly pointed out the rear window. The horizon behind them was lit up as though from a summer heat lightning storm. She said, “That’s gun fire.”
Dean zoomed with his helmet as far as it would allow and watched the fireworks.
Sanders said, “It’s over the horizon, but given the volume of fire, they’re g
ettin’ and givin’ quite a shellacking.”
Dean glanced at Hernandez. The obviousness of his choice not to turn back was rammed firmly home. She caught his look and turned away.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Good Lord! You’re done with Part 2. Go here for Part 3: Amazon.com/dp/asin/B00KHA2D4O
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Children Of Fiends - Part 2 A Nation By Another Name: An Of Sudden Origin Novella Page 7
