“Then I guess I owe you my gratitude?”
“Not necessary, not at all. I’m a doctor; that’s what we do,” he boasted.
“Doctor?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how to ask this,” she said and stopped.
“Ask me what?”
“Never mind, I’m sure it was just a dream.”
“No, please ask me.”
“Are there two men who work here with you?”
“No, there aren’t. That must have been part of a dream.”
She raised her hand and face-palmed, dismayed by how lucid her dreams were. “It seemed so real. I remember them hurting me, poking and prodding.” She looked at her arms and saw bruising and cuts. “If it was a dream, where did these come from?” she asked, holding up her bruised arms.
“When you were sick, you entered a delirious state and had to be restrained. Many people who get this new virus become…for lack of a better word, almost crazy. They act out violently at first, then slip into a psychotic state.”
She saw the broken bulb on the floor and asked, “Did you break that yesterday?”
“Yes, you remember that?”
“Vaguely.”
“I’ve been with you for days now, but I don’t know your name,” Mueller asked.
“Lisa.”
Mueller extended his hand and said, “Lisa, I’m Dr. Mueller, nice to meet you.”
Charleston, South Carolina
Just like the day before, Poppy assembled his group in the front staging area; the difference today was the group was huge. By a rough count Devin estimated over sixty men.
The vehicles were also noticeably different. Each pickup truck was equipped with a crew service weapon, either an M2 .50-caliber machine gun or a 40mm MK19 automatic grenade launcher.
They were ready to go to war and Devin had no doubt where they were going.
Poppy looked around, and before he began to detail the operational details, he conducted a roll call. With everyone accounted for, he went into specifics about the raid they were going on. It was a pretty straightforward assault on the neighborhood they had gathered intelligence on yesterday. The men would divide into three groups; one group would remain with the vehicles, either driving or manning the weapons, another slightly larger group would attack across the only bridge while the largest force would make an amphibious landing using small outboard power boats. The heavy weapons would initiate the attack by firing upon any security assets they could find, starting with the positions on the bridge. Once the bridge was clear, the first assault team would cross the bridge. This attack from the west would focus the island’s defenses on them, steering their attention away from the largest group, who would swiftly move in and attack from the east. Like all other attacks and prizes, each man got to keep what they found unless its value was exceptional, but small trinkets, women and children were fair game.
The plan sickened Devin and there was zero doubt his test was coming today. Unless he died, he’d be asked to perform something heinous.
Based upon his claims, Poppy had given Devin a job as a sniper. Upon arrival, he’d be given his weapon; from there his targets were what he chose.
Devin was not happy and wondered if he could get away with not making shots, but then Poppy’s voice from yesterday boomed in his head. “You still haven’t passed your test yet.” In order to pass a test, you have to be graded; this had to mean Poppy would be looking over his shoulder.
After all questions were answered, the men were treated to a visit by Captain Renfield.
“Good morning, men!” Renfield hollered in a jovial tone.
The men cheered in unison.
“Today will be a good day because today isn’t your normal assault. Today we seek vengeance. We will strike at the heart of those who attacked us weeks ago. Retribution will be ours and mine. I want you to know that all of you will be rewarded with a higher split of the treasure we find. You fine men will bring justice to our brothers and to me personally.”
“We loved him, sir!” a voice cried out.
“We miss him too!” another sang.
“I miss him too. Now go, avenge the fallen and take what is theirs. When you leave that island I want to hear tales of valor and I want to hear that you killed every single man and boy as well as burned down every single home and structure. Leave nothing!”
The men passionately cheered.
Renfield went through the group, shaking everyone’s hand, but when he reached Devin, he paused. “I heard about what happened yesterday.”
“Bad luck.”
“Not for you, but old Charlie, it wasn’t his day, that’s for sure.”
“Just bad luck,” Devin said.
Renfield leaned close to him and whispered, “I hated that motherfucker, weak, very weak. We don’t need men like him around here.”
Devin nodded.
“Good luck today, get many kills and bring home some prizes,” Renfield said while patting his shoulder. He turned and marched off.
“Devin, get in the truck with me,” Poppy ordered.
All the men loaded up and within minutes the convoy of trucks exited the shipyard.
There was no guessing what attack Renfield mentioned. It had to be his and Tess’ attack. What he didn’t know was who they were revering.
“Many of the men mentioned that they loved and missed someone, who was it?”
“That day was horrible. Our crews have been through hell and back. We’ve seen everything. Same goes for the captain, but that night crushed him.”
“Why?”
“Because someone killed his son that night, shot him point blank in the face. We think that motherfucker is on that island, and if he is, we’re going to skin him alive and leave his bloodied but still-breathing body out tied to a stake for all to see.”
A nauseous feeling crept over Devin as his stomach clenched. He remembered that night clearly and it was he who had shot the boy while avenging Tess. In a strange turn of events, Devin was part of a raiding party whose mission was to find Devin. Sort of like a dog chasing his tail.
Outside North Platte, Nebraska
Travis had gone full tilt and was now yelling, “You just show up and are trying to dictate where we’re going? Nope, we’re headed from here to New York, no deviation.”
“I want to check on my cousin in Chicago,” Josh replied.
“Fuck no,” Travis barked.
“Don’t be rude, Travis,” Cassidy reprimanded.
“Stop being patronizing. Of course I don’t make unilateral changes, but why shouldn’t we all have a say in stops. We have a unique opportunity and I for one think we should make additional stops. What about you two, thoughts?” she asked Bill and Tom.
Both men looked at each other and almost simultaneously they answered.
“I have an aunt outside of Columbus,” Bill said.
“And my brother’s house is in upstate New York,” Tom added.
“That leaves you,” Cassidy said, turning to face Travis. “I know you’ve waited a long time to find Tess, so let’s go see if she’s still in Bismarck.”
A stiff breeze came in from the west and blew Travis’ hat off his head. He picked it up and dusted it off.
Cassidy saw that he hadn’t picked up a photo that had fallen out of the hat. She bent over and picked it up. “Is that Tess?” she asked, handing the photo back to Travis.
The photo wasn’t of Tess but of Lori. He looked at it for a brief second and tucked it back inside his hat. He exhaled heavily and asked, “Can I have a few minutes to think about this?”
“No,” Josh blurted out. “And why do we have to have a unanimous decision to do anything? Who came up with that rule?”
“Of course, take more than a few. If you don’t agree, we go straight to New York, but your decision affects others here.”
Travis walked off and stood staring out across the plains. The wind was picking up, signaling that a storm might be coming from
the west and with it probably radiation. What ate at him wasn’t the risk of veering off course or changing plans, something greater was chewing away. He tried to put his finger on it, but he couldn’t. Making an undetermined amount of stops added complications and risked them all. The less amount of time on the road, the better, but deep down that logical response wasn’t why he felt like he did. It just didn’t feel right.
A soft touch on his back cleared his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and saw Cassidy. The wind was whipping the short strands of hair that stuck out from underneath her hat. On her face he saw sheer determination, a strength that he’d only seen in Tess before. Lori had strength, but she carried it differently than Cassidy or Tess. Just beyond her he saw the three men laughing. How could someone think this was an appropriate time for that?
Cassidy didn’t say a word. She had only come over to comfort him; she saw the struggle he was having with the decision.
“I always knew I wanted to be a Marine, even from a young age. My walls were covered with posters, I made every model I could and read everything on them. I didn’t put thought into it. I just wanted it. Later people would ask me why I joined and I typically gave them the boxed answer to serve my country or fight for freedom, but you know something it wasn’t really any of those reasons. I just wanted to be a Marine; there was something about it that I was attracted to. I think so often in life we are told we need an answer for everything we do, but now I know you don’t. Sometimes you can’t give a simple answer; sometimes you just know what is right or wrong. So that takes me to this idea. The shake-and-bake answer is to agree and make stops all over the map. I mean, how bad can it be? Everyone wins; everyone gets a chance to possibly find a family member; it makes logical sense. But my gut tells me this is wrong.”
“I respect your decision, no matter what.”
“I can’t be that one person that destroys everyone else’s hopes and dreams. This trip started out about you, but you’re willing to travel so that others might find family. I admire that and I’d be lying if I didn’t want to find Tess. I’m not the guy who blows up the group’s plan, so you can count me in.”
She began to pet his arm. “Thank you.”
“Tess was always the strong one in our relationship. She had a deep-seated moral code from which she lived her life. I have it but not to the intensity she had it. She grounded me and never took the easy road and always accepted the challenge. I know she’d be generous like you and offer to deviate off the path for others.”
“I hope I get to meet Tess, I really do.”
Charleston, South Carolina
For the second time in as many days, Devin found himself looking upon the island community that supposedly housed him.
Poppy had issued him an old Winchester Model 70, .30-06-caliber bolt-action rifle outfitted with a Leupold scope.
When Devin was handed the bullets, he was a bit intimidated. They were huge compared to the .556 mm bullets his AR-15 shot. He fumbled with the rifle and quickly became acquainted with it. The last thing he wanted Poppy to think was he was a novice, and for the most part, he was. Tess had shown him a lot in the short amount of time they'd spent together, but handling a rifle like this was not something he had ever done before.
“Your job is to cover the assault. Don’t shoot just any motherfucker over there; target ones that pose a threat to our men. Look for snipers or men manning large weapons. You got that?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, do ya? Answer me this, where should you aim?”
“The head, of course.”
“No, you aim for the chest or what we call center mass. That will take them down. Head shots are more difficult; go for their chest unless the only shot you have is their head.”
“But—”
“There’s no fucking buts; hit them in the chest.”
“Okay.”
Devin felt a bit stupid for his answers but shrugged it off when he heard the radio blare that the assault would start in ten minutes. On his belly, he crawled to the edge of the tree line and poked out ever so subtly.
“Here, use these,” Poppy said, standing just behind him.
Devin looked back and saw he was holding two sandbags. He placed them at the edge and laid his rifle on top.
“Start your scan. We have about seven minutes before we go green,” Poppy said.
Devin got behind the rifle and peered through the scope. Suddenly everything in the distance was up close, crisp and in full detail.
“Check out the bridge,” Poppy ordered.
“Are you going to be hovering over me the whole time?” Devin asked.
“Yes, I’m your spotter. Now fucking do it.”
Devin pivoted the rifle at the bridge.
The leaves above him began to rustle and a warm wind swirled around.
“Smell that?” Poppy asked.
“Rain?”
“Yep.”
“I see three men on the bridge; wait a second, it’s two men and a boy.”
“This is Poppy. We have three targets on the bridge; pick a target. Sound off,” Poppy said into his handheld radio.
“This is sniper three. I’ll take the man, far right.”
“This is sniper two. I have the fat man in the center directly in my sights.”
“We have the third target, then. I need the two other snipers to look past the bridge for other targets. Keep your eyes glued for heavy weapons.”
The radio came to life with all teams acknowledging Poppy’s command.
“Okay, your test is about to begin; you got the boy. Line him up, and when I tell you, squeeze the shot.”
This was exactly what Devin didn’t want. He had found himself justifying shooting the men, but the boy was too much. “It’s a boy. He can’t be more than ten.”
“He’s not a boy anymore. He’s an adversary and he’s under arms. He’s a legitimate target,” Poppy scolded.
Devin thought back and began to justify killing the boy. He remembered when he contemplated killing Alex, and then there was the whole reason they were even there. He had killed Renfield’s young son, but that was justified in his mind, the crazy child had just shot him and Tess. But this boy was just protecting his own, not hurting others, not going out and hunting down the innocent. The other times were justified, but this was murder.
“Three minutes,” Poppy said, looking at his watch.
Sweat began to bead on Devin’s forehead and his palms became clammy. If he didn’t take this shot, he’d be shot. This was his test and he had to pass it if he wanted to survive another day.
“Two minutes, take aim, settle your breathing, you sound like a locomotive. Remember, sight alignment, sight picture and squeeze,” Poppy quietly said.
The heat from his head and body fogged up the rear lens of the scope. Using his left hand, he wiped it.
“Ninety seconds,” Poppy said into his radio.
Through his scope, Devin watched the three people talking and laughing.
A loud crack shook the ground as lightning struck and thunder rolled. Within seconds after a few more dazzling lightning displays, a steady rain began to fall.
“This is good, very good,” Poppy said. “Forty-five seconds.”
Devin was tense and his heart raced. He could feel his body slightly tremble. His cheek was firmly welded to the rifle stock and his eye relief to the scope was just right. He watched as the three on the bridge celebrated the rain. The boy raised his arms into the sky and laughed. The boy then took off his beanie and locks of long blond hair fell to his shoulders. Devin blinked repeatedly. Was he seeing something wrong? A man next to the boy walked over and put his arm around him and kissed the boy on the head.
“Thirty seconds.”
Devin kept his eye glued on the boy, but now he knew this wasn’t a boy, it was a little girl.
The girl was laughing and smiling. She opened her jacket slightly and showed the man on the far right her T-shirt, a silver crown embla
zoned on a hot pink background.
“That’s not a boy, it’s a little girl, maybe nine or ten years old,” Devin said in a nervous tempo.
“Twenty seconds.”
“It’s not a boy, it’s a little girl. Don’t you hear me?”
“Fifteen seconds, take aim and squeeze.”
“I can’t kill a little girl,” Devin exclaimed as he pulled his face away from the scope.
Poppy ripped his pistol from his shoulder holster and held it at Devin’s head. “Get back on that rifle. You have ten seconds. If you don’t take the shot, I’ll shoot you on the eleventh second.”
“It’s a little girl.”
“Five, four, three.”
Devin felt the tip of the pistol muzzle on the back of his skull. He got behind the rifle again and placed the crosshairs on the girl’s chest, directly in the middle of the silver crown.
“Two, one.”
Devin’s finger began to apply pressure to the trigger. He fought a strong temptation to close his eye; if he was going to do this, he needed to witness his own moral decline.
“Zero, fire.”
“Forgive me,” Devin whispered and squeezed the trigger.
The rifle recoiled heavily into Devin’s shoulder, the .30-06 bullet exploded out of the barrel and raced towards the target.
As if choreographed perfectly, the girl leapt into the air and spun around, simulating a pirouette ballet move.
Devin’s bullet struck where she had been and ricocheted off the concrete bridge.
Lost in his own world, Devin didn’t even hear the other gunfire. In unison, a volley of fire rained down on the bridge and other targets in the community.
The two men were hit and toppled to the ground. The girl turned in horror at the scene and ran for cover behind a concrete jersey wall.
“You fucking missed her!” Poppy shouted.
“She moved at the last millisecond.”
“I should just fucking shoot you here,” Poppy said, pressing the muzzle of his pistol into Devin’s head.
From concealed positions in the community, a barrage of return fire began to hit the tree line.
“It wasn’t my fault; she moved at the last second.”
The Death: The Complete Trilogy Page 55
