Living for War: The Collin War Chronicles

by W. C. Hoffman

  “Terms?” Mac began to fake a laugh. “Here are my terms. If you don’t leave now and move off my property yourself, I’m going to have to move you – myself.”

  Collin flashed a look of mock surprise at Mac, then laughed at him as if they were two old buddies joking around. With a wave of his hand, Collin turned and slowly strolled down the path back to the sidewalk.

  He continued to laugh loudly as he walked away. Deep inside though, Collin fantasized about punching Mac in the throat.

  “And don’t come back,” Mac shouted. “You and your goon squad don’t scare me. You need to remember one thing, Secretary War.”

  Collin glanced over his shoulder, slowing but continuing to walk. When their eyes met, Collin could feel the hate burning in Mac’s eyes.

  “Yeah, motherfucker, I know who you are. I know you caused this. All of it! You can try to hide the fact you killed the world, but we both know the truth.”

  Collin froze and faced Mac. “What’s the truth?”

  “This is still America, and I know my rights.”

  Collin scoffed and turned around to leave. He heard footsteps behind him and against his instincts, he didn’t turn around, forcing himself to hold still. Breathe in, breathe out.

  “Hey, I’m not done talking to you fuck face,” Mac shouted behind him. “You step foot on my property again and I’ll kill you and your Viper spawn. Keep your distance. It’s as simple as that. You stay on your side of town with the enemy and leave us alone.”

  Collin didn’t say anything.

  “Face me, you piece of shit. I want to know you understand me,” Mac said. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  Mac clamped his hand down on Collin’s shoulder to turn him around. Collin was ready for a guy like this; he knew it was coming.

  Unleashing his inner predator, Collin reached up, grabbed Mac’s hand, and crushed it. He squeezed hard enough to mash the knuckles together, sending pain radiating down the man’s fingers and up into his forearm as he spun and locked Mac’s wrist. The man gasped in agony. With another twist, Collin had Mac on his knees with his elbow up by his own temple.

  Collin looked down at Mac whimpering like a scared puppy, squeezing his eyes shut against the painful joint lock. The man didn’t know Collin as well as he thought he did, or he wouldn’t have done something so foolish.

  With the Eagles looking on in astonishment, Collin bent down and whispered in Mac’s ear. Then he released his hold on Mac, motioned for the Eagles to follow, and left Mac sprawled out in his front yard.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cured pork on a piece of bread was all Collin had to eat while he walked across town to the hospital. While it was not Koby’s home cooking, which he had grown accustomed to, it served its purpose as his mind wandered. Too many things required his attention, and he had forgotten all about lunch.

  Collin chewed the last of his “sandwich,” dusting the crumbs off of his shirt while he assessed the exterior of the hospital. From the street, the building looked as it always had since he awoke. Pits from bullets marred the walls, concrete chunks were piled in small pyramids where plants should have grown, the front door was still busted out, and now, according to what he’d been told, the inside reflected the outside.

  As much as he didn’t want to go in to see what happened, Collin knew he had to. He had to see for himself the destruction and investigate the deaths of the two Eagles.

  Once inside, it was immediately obvious what Julie said was true. The hallway was trashed. A plant that used to grow in the corner was now splayed out on the tile with its pot smashed, leaking soil in a fan shape. As if hospitals were not creepy enough before the end of the world, the empty and silent hallways added to the dystopian charm that now surrounded him.

  Collin knelt down to examine a footprint in the dirt. Few details remained, but it could be a useful clue, so he committed it to memory. It was one of the many times he wished for a working camera. With a sigh, he stood and continued deeper into the building.

  Darkness enveloped much of the way. Glass crunched beneath Collin’s boots, remnants of the broken fluorescent lightbulbs from overhead. The white dust that once resided inside the bulbs now drifted in the air, creating patches of chemical haze. Tingling sensations ran down his spine, as though he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, but no one was there. Ahead it was still too dark to tell. Collin’s hand found comfort atop the sidearm in his holster as he proceeded down the hall.

  Collin could see the doorway to the outpatient office where he’d gone for blood donations, and he stopped. The door hung crooked on its hinges. Jagged blades of frosted glass outlined the space that used to make up the door itself.

  Shafts of dull light emanating from deep within the office lanced out into the hallway. Collin leaned against the wall for a moment to settle his emotions. His chest roared with fury at the obscene destruction.

  Collin could understand the initial resistance to inviting the Vipers into Goshen. However, destroying the hospital, the serum, and the research hurt everyone and helped no one. An urge to rush back to Mac’s house and throttle him to death burned in the back of his throat.

  A small voice on his shoulder told him that he had no real evidence against Mac. The town drunk and lead moonshiner hadn’t admitted to anything other than personally disliking Collin and Brady and being pissed about the Vipers settling in. As long as they stayed off of his property, Mac might settle for a compromise.

  In any case, Collin couldn’t do anything until he saw the arrows that killed the Eagles. No evidence, no arrest, and really, there’d been enough death in Goshen to tide everyone over.

  HAGS is the threat. HAGS is the enemy. Stay focused, don’t let emotion cloud your judgement, he told himself.

  Dr. Denard mentioned their reason for arriving was to stop a battle. They were concerned about population control. Why? What did it matter to them?

  Whatever they were doing, Collin would find out. He would make sure they paid for what they did to the country. He would do it with allies behind him, and until they were ready, he’d make sure that HAGS didn’t see them coming. Now was not the time to fire a warning shot across their bow. Collin War was ready to live up to his namesake.

  Renewing his focus, Collin looked for clues, anything that might suggest who had caused all this senseless destruction. People’s lives were at stake. Not immediately, thanks to the pastor’s stash of BT76 and the crates Dr. Denard dropped, but nevertheless, this kept the Vipers dependent on HAGS medicine for the time being. Collin prayed Julie would be able to make due with whatever was left until they could figure something out. Even minor injuries became serious in the absence of medical aid.

  Nothing was evident in the hallway near the door. No footprints, no snagged clothing, nothing at all. So, Collin entered the office. Inside the smell of burnt paper was strong, but it seemed to be drifting toward the examination rooms rather than out into the hallway.

  A large painter’s bucket sat on the floor behind the desk where he used to chat with Anna and Dr. Horner prior to his blood draws. Seemingly every glass surface was shattered – pictures, a lone mason jar for coffee, the computer monitor, and a weird-looking piece of art made of blown glass.

  Something popped under his foot. When he looked down, he saw a syringe. Collin picked it up and looked at it in the light. Several drops of blue liquid remained inside. The serum.

  Collin scowled at the thoughtless actions of those who left it empty on the floor. Hundreds of lives could have been saved, including Collin’s son Brady and his grandson, Hunter. He flung it into the corner in disgust.

  Just then, a shadow fell across Collin. His snapped head up, followed by his pistol.

  “Shit! It’s me, it’s me,” Koby said, throwing his hands in the air.

  Collin exhaled loudly. “What the hell are you doing?” He slid the gun back in its holster.

  “Just looking around. I wasn’t sure when you would show up, so I got started,” Koby sai
d, looking sheepish.

  “Started doing what?”

  “Investigating.” Koby’s eyebrows jumped.

  “Uh-huh.” Collin grunted. “Any luck?”

  “Not really,” Koby said looking around. “Can you believe this shit?”

  Collin shook his head.

  “Hey, man. At least Doc was able to cure everybody in Goshen. No one here will have to worry about the fever again. So, it wasn’t a total loss. We’re halfway there.”

  Collin stared at him. It was hard to hear, but he knew deep down Koby was right. They made great progress and accomplished something no one else had. Dr. Horner knew what to do, even if she didn’t have her papers. It’d be easier to replicate the process since she already cracked that nut.

  Still ...

  “I’m sure Brady and his people will be thrilled for us. Probably throw us a party,” Collin said, kicking fragments of glass across the floor. “Hey, did they destroy the upper levels as well?”

  The hospital had several floors. Collin had woken up near the top, but he wasn’t entirely sure which floor since he’d never returned to it.

  “I’m sure Julie checked, but I haven’t been upstairs. The ground floor is the most important,” Koby said, waving a hand at the office. “Anyway, I don’t think anything valuable was left up there after you left.”

  “It’s worth checking later.”

  “Don’t forget we have all of the BT76 that you found Pendell hiding, the Vipers had a stash, and the two crates Denard dropped. We’re good for a long time. The Vipers will survive; your family will be safe. And all that will buy us ... well, Julie ... enough time to synthesize some more serum. Who knows, maybe the Vipers have someone to lend her a hand?”

  “You know, I’m lucky to have a friend like you, Koby.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Not that I have a lot of choices,” Collin said, half-joking. He walked toward his examination room.

  “You might not, but I have a lot of friends.”

  “Like who?” Collin asked, genuinely curious.

  “I’m close friends with twenty-five of the twenty-six letters of the alphabet.” Koby moved to let Collin pass by.

  “Just twenty-five, huh?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know Y.” Koby grinned at him.

  Collin rolled his eyes, chuckling despite himself.

  Surveying the damage in all of the rooms was depressing. Bandages, rubbing alcohol, swabs, all of it was destroyed and thrown about like a tornado had torn through the building. The last juice boxes in his room were gone; one sat on the counter with the straw poking out as if it was a white flag on a battlefield, or perhaps a middle finger from whoever did this.

  “Even the juice,” Collin muttered dejectedly.

  “Monsters,” Koby joked.

  “Let’s head downstairs. I still need to pay my respects to Davies and Patterson," Collin said. His heart felt like a stone in his chest.

  As they left the outpatient room, Collin let Koby lead the way. They tread over broken glass, bits of paper, and things he couldn't make out in the dim light.

  "What's that smell?" Collin said, freezing in place. Like a dog catching a scent, he tested the air. It was gone. He back tracked a couple of steps and tried again, taking big whiffs. Nothing.

  "Whatcha got, Fido?"

  "Shut up. I thought I smelled alcohol," Collin said, frowning. "The same kind I smelled on Mac the other day." He grunted and shook his head. "Let's go."

  Once in the morgue, they stood for a moment before the lockers that held the bodies. Neither of them was eager to see the dead soldiers. Finally, Collin stepped forward and pulled open the first one. A rush of cool air poured out.

  The table rattled slightly as he pulled the body out and folded back the white sheet to see the Eagle's face. It was Patterson.

  Collin wasn't as familiar with Patterson as he was with Davies, but he knew him by reputation and had heard good things about the man. Whispering, he said, "You answered the call of duty and stood true. We honor your sacrifice, Patterson. You will not be forgotten."

  Collin replaced the body and pulled out Davies to repeat the words. When he was done and the bodies were put back, Collin turned to Koby.

  "Where are the arrows?"

  Koby pointed at a small tray in the corner of the room.

  “You okay? You look a little pale,” Collin said.

  “Just not used to ... that.” Koby gestured in the direction of the bodies.

  “Physically it gets easier, emotionally it’s always a roller coaster,” Collin said solemnly as he walked over to the silver metallic cart with the tray containing the arrows used to murder the soldiers.

  “Thank God they weren’t kids. I don’t know if I could handle that shit,” Koby said.

  “The smaller the casket, the heavier it is,” Collin replied as he now stood over the arrows.

  Picking them up and turning them over, Collin noted the dried blood caked on the air vents of the trocar tipped broadhead arrows. They were vicious weapons meant for hunting big game, like deer, bear, and moose. Looking at the shaft and fletching, he immediately recognized it.

  “This is the same kind of arrow Mac had this morning,” Collin said, holding up the arrow for Koby to see.

  “Sounds about right, but it might not be the smoking gun, er, arrow. The old gym teacher was big into archery. He passed before I arrived, but he ran an archery program for the school and those were the arrows they used,” Koby said. “Not with the big blades of course; they used training tips. I actually don’t know much about it, but you could talk to the hunters. They all use the same kind of arrows.”

  “How many people is that?”

  “Hunters and anyone else who just likes to shoot? Hmm. I’d say sixty, give or take a few.”

  “Shit. I was hoping for more conclusive proof than that. A pool of sixty suspects is going to take forever to vet and that’s assuming it wasn’t someone else entirely.” Collin frowned as he put the arrow back in the tray.

  “You know, whoever did this shot fast and accurate. They only fired two arrows. You’d think one of the Eagles would have had time to respond,” Collin said, glancing at Koby. “Among the hunters, who is that good? Does anyone else stick out in your mind? It may not be someone as vocal as Mac, sometimes it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

  Koby shook his head. “I don’t know most of them that well. Unless they’ve had a problem with their gardens or electronics, I hardly deal with them. Too busy.” He shrugged. “On the bright side, you have conclusive proof it wasn’t the Vipers.”

  “Unless someone claims they are missing a couple of arrows,” Collin grumbled.

  “What now?”

  Collin looked around. The morgue wasn’t in bad shape. Apparently, the vandals didn’t think the morgue was worth their time, or were too creeped out to come in.

  “We’re done here,” Collin said.

  Koby was already moving toward the exit. Collin wouldn’t have taken Koby for the skittish type, but he couldn’t blame him. If it was the first time, he did well. At least he didn’t vomit.

  Koby opened the door and stepped into the hallway as Collin followed.

  “Watch your step –”

  A blast cut off Koby words. The shockwave slammed into Koby, flinging him backward into Collin’s chest. They both slammed into the door and fell in a heap on the floor. Bright orange flames surrounded them in horrifying silence.

  Collin tried to breath, but the available oxygen was temporarily consumed by the fire. He pushed Koby off him as the flames shrank back into the hallway, scorching the ceiling as they licked upward. Collin rolled over and kicked at the door, slamming it shut.

  His ears rang, but Collin could soon hear Koby’s screams. Pulling himself into a kneeling position, Collin looked down at his friend. Koby’s face was blackened with soot, but it was his lower legs that were the fountain of anguish.

  Shredded skin dangled below Koby’s knees. One of his
shoes was smoldering. Collin pulled off his shirt and doused the flame, careful not to move the leg too much.

  “What ... what the hell’s going on?” Koby cried. Tears streaked down the side of his face looking like tiny rivers amongst the blackened soot caked to his cheeks. He tried looking down at his legs. Koby turned to vomit but only managed to gag when he saw the state of his body.

  Collin pushed his head down gently. “Don’t look! You’ll be okay, buddy. I’ve got ya.”

  “I don’t want ... to ... die,” Koby sobbed as his body began to descend into shock.

  “I’ve got ya. Stay with me,” Collin said, trying to calm, or at least reassure, his friend. He held Koby’s hand and looked around. Collin sought something to wrap around Koby’s legs or at least drape over them. “You’ll be okay.”

  Ribbons of blood poured from the wounds. The blood flow had to be cut off or Koby would bleed to death. Collin released Koby’s hand and pulled off his belt.

  He looked Koby dead in the eyes. “This is going to hurt, but I have to put a tourniquet on.”

  “Oh God,” he groaned with eyes wide in horror. Then, Koby bit his lip and nodded.

  Collin looked at the torn legs. Bright bone shone through the red meat. He knew what to do right away; he’d seen injuries like this before, when he was in the military. A voice shouted in his head, “Hurry your ass up, Marine. Do you want your buddy to die?”

  The belt was perfect, but he needed two. Both of Koby’s legs were mangled.

  “FUBAR,” Collin thought to himself, looking at the mess that was left of Koby’s lower limbs. Again finding his mind reverting to his training in emergency first aid, Collin set his pistol aside and removed the holster. He could use the webbing as a tourniquet. Now he just needed something to cinch it down tightly.

  The arrows, Collin thought. They took lives, now they can save one.

  “I’ll be right back. Hang tough.” Collin clumsily raced over to the tray, slipping on blood that now covered the tile floor. He grabbed the arrows and opened one of the empty body lockers, slamming it closed on the shaft, behind the broadhead, snapping it off. Collin repeated it with the other arrow, then ran over to Koby.