Special Ops (Sundown Apocalypse Book 5)

by Leo Nix

  “You had terrorists living in that hotel of yours, you lot should be ashamed of yourselves,” said Skip, his face reflected his fury and grief at the loss of his good friend, Burger. “I'd suggest you cooperate or you'll be one sorry bastard.” His voice was cold and hard.

  Obi-Wan came over to ease the tension. “Buddy, when did the Revelationist soldiers turn up here?” he asked, mindful that some of the residents might be Revelationist members too.

  Joey was of medium height, thin but solidly built. He scratched his balding head. “Couple-a-days ago, just rolled up and took over the hotel. They've been partying pretty hard, they've not paid a cent for their fuel, their drink or their beds neither, proper bastards they are. Poor Dominic spent a lifetime in the mines to buy this pub too, he's made it the best watering hole we've had. They beat him up you know, hurt him, broke some ribs. They said the worlds ended, something about an apocalypse has hit the world. Maybe you jokers could tell us what's really happening out there.” Joey was now on a roll and couldn't stop talking. “We've no TV, no radio, everything is static… we got power because that's from our solar panels, but we've had no news, now the church people have guns and won't let us leave…”

  Obi-Wan cut in, he didn't want to spend all morning listening to Joey ramble on. “Bud, the church people are terrorists, they've destroyed the world as we know it. You folks had better arm yourselves and organise a defense of some sort. Stick together, appoint a leader, fight them.”

  Joey looked at the two special operations soldiers and asked, “Who the hell are you guys anyway?”

  Skip looked around at the growing dawn, in another few minutes the sun would rise.

  “Mate, we're the good guys, that's why we haven't killed you yet.” He smiled to take the edge off his remark. “Do as my friend suggested. Organise a resistance, gather as many people as you can, arm them and fight.”

  Chapter 8 – Meekatharra

  It was dawn, smoke from the hotel rose like a funeral pyre in the warm morning air. They stood around Ranger Corporal Laurence Burger's grave, each said a few words, it was a morose affair.

  Danielle stood crying on Kerrie's shoulder, the two constables had a lot to cry about. Everyone felt miserable and depressed. Not only were they simply exhausted from their trek through the searing heat of the desert but they had lost too many friends. Obi-Wan noted everyone's mood was low so he called them to 'gather 'round' at his Toyota. It held the long-range HF radio which was like a security blanket for them all.

  “This morning we hit the enemy hard. It looks like we took out the local hotel while we were at it, for which I am personally responsible and very very sorry.” The sound of Danielle sobbing made everyone uncomfortable and miserable. Obi-Wan pressed on. “I was hoping to take today off and rest up but that's not going to happen - especially now that we know the Revelationists are looking for us, or they will soon enough.” He was interrupted by one of the elderly locals wandering over towards them.

  “Hey, you soldier people, my missus asked if you'd like to join us for breakfast? A cup of tea and some toast? We can see that you'll be heading off soon but another ten minutes won't hurt. You can have your meeting at my place.” He pointed to his wife standing outside a comfortable looking house on the main road heading east, towards Pine Gap. That made it easier for Obi-Wan to nod in the affirmative.

  “Thanks, buddy, we'll take you up on that.” He turned to his friend, Corporal Gary Fortune. “Gary, can you get on top of that building over there and have a look around. We'll send some breakfast up to you.” The tall, dark-haired Delta, silently nodded then trotted over to the tallest building in the town. Climbing onto the empty rain-water tank and from there to the flat roof he settled down for a stint of guard duty.

  The group were already walking towards the house. Obi-Wan followed his head down thinking of all the things that could go wrong - and those that could go right.

  Inside they gathered in the large lounge and dining room where the lady of the house had already placed toast, jars of marmalade, vegemite, jam, and even a jar of fish paste. For the desert trekkers, it was a veritable feast.

  “Welcome, everyone,” said Walt's missus, Maisie. Her wrinkled face was all smiles. She looked the sort of country woman who could generously feed a host of thousands with her last loaf of bread and a fillet of fish in the fridge.

  “We're grateful to you for kicking those terrorist vermin out of our town and we're sorry that your friend died. We want you to know that we will honour and tend Mr Burger's grave when you're gone. He came from far away to shed his blood here, at Meekatharra, for us. He'll never be alone, he's now one of us, he's now our son.” Maisie paused when she saw Danielle drop her head into her hands. She knew how the poor girl felt having lost her own husband in a mining accident some years ago.

  “I'm Maisie by the way,” she introduced herself. “We know you've had a hard time of it, from what Joey said, he's my son.” She then pointed to the weathered old man handing out toast to their visitors, “and that's Walt. We work at the hotel you just shot to pieces. But we've survived worse.” Putting on a bright smile she lifted the pot of tea and started pouring into the mugs lined up on the table. “Help yourselves, if you're too slow you'll miss out.”

  The coffee was instant but it was hot and tasted just awful enough for the hungry, tired group to enjoy. The tea was mostly black, Maisie ran out of milk after the second serving. She apologised that she didn't have any cake to give them. No one complained they were just so grateful to this lovely couple for their generosity.

  The girls sat with Danielle and comforted her. She didn't eat anything so Emily took her for a walk outside under the rosy dawn sky. Emily knew that walking sometimes helps.

  Walt had invited Joey and his wife, Gina, to join them. They asked a lot of questions as they too sipped their tea and ate their breakfast with the visitors. Obi-Wan left the talking to Skip and the others, he was too busy planning their next move. Through the noise of the many diverse conversations, Obi-Wan's ears pricked up when he heard Joey mention a friend who lived on a remote property – this fellow had a radio that was linked to the satellites.

  While Obi-Wan digested this new and important information, Maisie and Gina hovered over the two wounded police officers like mother hens. They fussed over the strength of their tea… “or did you want coffee?” They buttered their toast for them”' “is this the right amount of vegemite? Or did you want marmalade and jam?”

  Gina was especially attentive to the handsome Hooky, his smile was a winner and it appeared that Gina couldn't do enough for him.

  Kerrie was recovering well. She was able to move her wounded arm a little but it was still inflamed and swollen. Fortune, the team medic, looked at it regularly. His greatest concern was sepsis, if that set in she had little chance of surviving their trip to Pine Gap.

  Obi-Wan was feeling the loss of his friend Burger, too. He took his cup and plate of toast to sit outside. Walt noticed and came outside to sit beside him.

  “I guess it's been a hell of a journey for you and your friends?” he asked lightly, trying to make conversation. The old man pulled his tobacco pouch out of his top pocket and offered it to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan put his hand up, no. He'd not smoked since he was a kid, it had triggered the worst asthma attack he'd ever had. He was never tempted to smoke again.

  “I'm fine, Walt, but you go ahead,” he said politely. Walt made his cigarette and leaned back in the timber-framed chair and lit up.

  “This terrorist thing, is it going to end?” he asked.

  “In a word, no,” replied Obi-Wan. “The world as we knew it has ended. There'll be no more TV or beauty pageants or surfing contests or new cars to buy, nothing. It's finished. All we can hope to do is survive in this new world.”

  Walt nodded, drew on his rollie and politely blew smoke up into the air away from Obi-Wan. “That means we have to pull our community together and do the best we can…” he was clearly thinking of how to go about life in t
his 'new world'.

  Obi-Wan sat back in his chair as well, he closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head. “You know, Walt? I've got family in the states and I'm a long way from home, I doubt I'll ever see them again… but I have my duty to my 'family' here, those people inside, they're now my family. If I keep that in mind I'm not going to go crazy. If I think of anything else, then, well, I just might have to put a gun to my head and leave this God-forsaken world.”

  Walt turned to look at his companion. He saw a thirty-something year old, good-looking man. He noted that Obi-Wan looked confident, a professional, there was nothing to suggest someone who would let go of life and give up that easily.

  “Yeah, I guess that's the best way to manage it. We often lose in life, most of the time the promises we hear end up in disappointment. At eighteen I thought I was going to turn into a man, I didn't. Then at twenty-one I thought I was going to be mature and successful. I was married, had a little boy and had just started a business, that didn't work out either. My wife left me when the business went belly-up and I was left to care for my son.”

  Walt paused to lift his cigarette to his lips and drew back slowly, luxuriously, then continued. “I expected life to be a piece-of-cake, instead I ended up with a shit-sandwich.”

  Obi-Wan smiled, that was a description he had to remember. His friends, and not-so friends, always reminded him that he never got their jokes nor did he have a sense of humour - maybe this was what they meant.

  “I've had to live by the seat-of-my-pants, raising a child and working three jobs. I ran from dawn to midnight for years trying to make ends meet. Now those terrorists have taken the meaning of life away. Does that mean all those years where I sacrificed my needs for those of my son, and then for Maisie and Joey, were wasted?” He drew back again on his cigarette then dropped it into the tin sitting beside his chair. “Maybe this will be better, no more taxes, no more bosses, no more government…” he laughed as he began rolling another cigarette.

  “Walt, I know what you're thinking, maybe the shit-sandwich that life handed you has made you better, better prepared for Part Two. And this is now Part Two of life,” said Obi-Wan. His eyes were closed and his mind was back in its 'palace', he was already thinking of their drive to Pine Gap.

  “Obi-Wan, do you know what? Maybe this Part Two thing is the piece-of-cake I've been waiting for.” Walt laughed out loud as he leaned back in his chair smoking, just as quiet but perhaps a tad more contented than his friend beside him.

  Trisha managed to juggle two cups of black coffee in one hand and a plate of toast covered thickly with a mixture of apricot jam and vegemite, in the other. When she arrived at the base of Fortune's building she called out. Fortune showed her where to climb up on the roof to join him. Together they sat quietly eating their breakfast and drinking their morning brew.

  “Thanks, Trish.” It was quiet up there, no wind and no activity, except for the volunteer fire-brigade busy cleaning up the part of the hotel that survived the fire. “I just love the desert in the morning. Just look at how everything is so calm, so soft, the light doesn't cut things up so harshly, it's so gentle,” Fortune said sipping his coffee and munching on his marmalade toast.

  Trisha was a city girl through and through. The only reason she was in Western Australia at all was to attend her best friend's wedding. The girls were still celebrating when the Pine Gap crew arrived and helped them party.

  “Yeah, it is sort of pretty, I guess.” Her voice wandered, “I'd rather Sydney Harbour though. Sunshine, water, boats, Manly and Bondi beaches, the RiverCat and the Sydney Ferries. Now that's something to wake up to, Gary.”

  They sat quietly watching the sunrise for a while. Trisha was still trying to get used to the dramatic changes in the world, in her life. Sometimes a joke made things better.

  “Gary, do you like coffee? They say that you've not had enough coffee until you can thread a sewing machine needle while it's running. That's how I've been living my life, on the edge, running from one adventure to the next. Look at me now, sitting quietly watching the sunrise. How did I ever let things get so crazy?” she said softly, her mind still trying to accommodate what she wanted with what she needed. “I love city life but the hardship and the friends I've met these past weeks have changed something inside me.”

  “Ah, you city girls,” the quiet Delta replied. “I came from the big city, Chicago. I couldn't get out fast enough. Give me the wide open spaces any day to the cramped houses, the noise and smell of the city.” He sighed and picked up his binoculars again, sweeping the countryside for 360 degrees. “I know it's been tough travelling through the desert but at least we can see the enemy miles away before they can get to us. When I was fighting in the jungle… sorry, I shouldn't talk of war, we've been through enough… even I've had enough of it.”

  Trisha put her hand on his leg. It wasn't sexual or even intimate but it was comforting to feel the touch of a woman in times when you've lost friends.

  “I'm sorry about your friend. Burger was our saviour back in Geraldton and again in Shark Bay when the terrorists were shooting at us. He had a funny laugh didn't he,” she smiled and then stopped, she began to cry softly. Trisha pushed her face into Fortune's shoulder and clung tightly to him. “I just have to get this out, Gary, I'm sorry. Each death makes me feel so alone. I have to get this blasted sadness out of my system before it destroys me.”

  Corporal Gary Fortune put his arm around the young woman's shoulder and drew her into his broad chest. He held her tight, tighter than he expected.

  The tough Delta, the best of the best, felt tears of his own forming in the corner's of his eyes – but Delta's don't put those he is responsible for at risk. He deliberately disengaged his feelings and switched his mind-set back to the task at hand – and continued to watch the desert approaches.

  “Right, everyone, time to move. We've got a long drive ahead of us.” Obi-Wan turned to Joey. “Joey, if you don't mind guiding us to that farm-house you mentioned, we'd be grateful.”

  Earlier, at Obi-Wan's request, Joey had agreed to take them to visit that friend of his, Bluey. Bluey was a city-bred prepper, a survivalist who lived alone on his property in the desert. His home was one of the mines he'd dug prospecting for gold. It turned out to be so pleasantly cool down there that he decided to live in it.

  The 'gold' that Obi-Wan was interested in was his radio system which was apparently state of the art. Joey said that Bluey was a whizz-kid, he'd worked for military intelligence until a few years ago. He'd had a 'bit of a breakdown' and was medically retired. He and Joey would sometimes listen in on the astronaut's conversations from the space station; to Pine Gap; even to some of the military operations in Afghanistan and Iraq.

  “We're sorry we burnt down your hotel, Maisie; and we're sorry that the terrorists will probably come out here to check out why their patrol won't answer their calls; but if everyone pulls together and fights together, you should survive.” They all shook hands and wished each other well.

  “Good luck, and thanks for your hospitality. I hope one day to find out that you've survived this damned apocalypse and are living Part Two, Walt.”

  They hit the road and drove as hard and as fast as the dirt road allowed them. The convoy focused on putting as much road between them and the terrorists who would certainly return in force once they found out what had happened at Meekatharra.

  It was some hours later that they saw the turn-off to Bluey's. An innocuous dirt track that looked like it rarely, if ever, bore the weight of a car.

  “I'd better go first,” said Joey, leaning through Obi-Wan's open window. “Bluey has some strange ways and his paranoia sometimes gets the better of his common sense. If you guys wait at the next gate I'll let you know when it's safe to come in.” They drove for another hour before arriving at a cattle grid and gate. There was no fence, just the grid and two posts that precariously held a closed metal gate.

  “Why don't we just drive around the stupid gate?” a
sked Trisha perplexed as she watched Joey carefully open the gate, drive through, then close it behind him.

  Joey heard her and yelled through his open window. “It's got a mechanism thingy that tells Bluey when someone's visiting. Besides, it's good manners, that's all. No-one would dream of driving around a gate in outback Australia anyway. We're all bloody nutters aren't we?” He laughed as he drove off leaving the three vehicles parked in line waiting for the signal to pass through the gate.

  Obi-Wan stood on the roof of his vehicle and swept the area with his binoculars. He followed Joey's dust as he approached what looked very much like a miners camp. There were mountains of dirt piled into mullock heaps. Surrounding the mullock heaps was a series of poles wired together. There were dozens of solar panels, satellite dishes and a shed that was probably where he had his radio. Besides that the place was barren and empty of life.

  Chapter 9 – Goldmine Bluey

  “Hey'dy, hi'dy!” shouted the small, muscled man who ushered them into his empty shed. He looked like a dwarf from JRR Tolkien's 'Lord Of the Rings'.

  “Welcome to my portal.” The dwarf chuckled to himself. His beard was long and straggly, it was a mixture of colours ranging from black to grey to red and even some blond streaked through it. “You'll have to be careful, these steps are steep and if you fall you'll take everyone down with you.” Again he chuckled as though he expected to see just that, a tumble of bodies bouncing their way into his subterranean home.

  “Hi, Bluey,” said Skip as he stepped forward offering his hand. But the man blanched awkwardly, pulling his whole body backwards as though Skip's hand was a white-hot cattle brand. “It's OK, mate, I won't touch you. I just wanted to say thanks for inviting us into your home and out of the heat.”

  Bluey's eyes opened wide in pleasure. Skip realised that this was the complete opposite of what the little man expected.