Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2)

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Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 30

by John Wilkinson


  Torriero sounds like a ruthless bastard, like all the evil dictators wars are fought over. I asked Little D to tell me a little about the rest of the members of Blue and White Company, starting with Rhino, ‘He’s just about the strongest man I have ever met, both mentally and physically. He’s a machine, he never stops, never tires, he’s not fast but he’s gets the job done.’ Rhino sounds like your typical gentle giant, not a tall man, maybe five ten, but friendly. He sports a shaven head, and a large dark brown beard, his neck is like a tree trunk, in fact his arms and legs are too. I took a swig of my beer and continued, ‘What about Murphy?’ I haven’t even heard him speak.’

  ‘He’s a quiet lad, keeps himself to himself. Until he gets on the battlefield, where he’s an animal. His girlfriend was taken by Torriero’s men, and he just wants to kill as many of them as possible. He is the only soldier I know of, that actually volunteers for dangerous missions if it means he can kill more men, no one does that. Nobody really likes killing, taking a life, or being shot at and injured. He doesn’t care about his own safety, which is a worry, and he has to be managed correctly. But he’s an excellent soldier if you can control him, he would take a bullet for any of his comrades. But then any of them would, I think Rhino’s received injuries from protecting just about everyone he’s ever served with.’

  ‘What about you and your brother?’

  ‘The armies in our family, my dad and two of my uncles all served for the Forty Second Infantry Brigade, so we were pre destined. I always wanted to progress through the ranks, but Chris (Sergeant Davis) only joined because he didn’t know what else to do. He wanted to do the opposite to what our dad said at first, he ended up dropping out of so many university courses, it was a bit of a family joke, how many subjects he started and didn’t finish, mum and dad were a bit embarrassed.’

  ‘But he’s done well for himself now?’

  ‘Yeah, he knuckled down in the end, worked hard and has shown an aptitude for leading, just like dad told him he would.’

  ‘What about you?’ I asked, taking a final mouth full of my beer.

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘What do you want out of the army?’

  ‘I don’t know anymore, things have changed. All I know is right now we need leaders, for what’s about to come. We have no real idea what to expect, particularly from the creatures. I need the opportunity to prove I’m capable, not just because of who my brother is, or my father.’

  ‘You just might get that chance’ I replied, putting my empty bottle on the table.

  ‘Maybe,’ he smiled, ‘Don’t be staying up too late’ he warned me, with a laugh. ‘Tomorrow’s another day.’

  ‘I’m off to bed now’ I replied, ‘See you around.’

  As I left the bar, Sergeant Davis walked in, with Rhino, and made a beeline for me. ‘You did well today Nathan, how did it feel?’

  ‘Yeah it felt good, so my stats were OK?’

  ‘Not as good as your dad’s!’ Laughed Rhino, in his low gravely voice.

  ‘Oh Bernard,’ I said. ‘He’s not my dad, just a family friend. He could probably still out score most of you.’

  ‘Maybe’ replied Sergeant Davis, with a grin.

  ‘But we ain’t going to find out’ said Rhino, ‘Why would we? Nothing to gain, and a whole lot of credibility to lose.’ I left the lads to have a drink, and plan on having an early night after I’ve written up today’s notes, in preparation for whatever they throw at us tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWO

  26/11/2027 - Time 21:27

  When the alarm went off for the soldier’s meeting, I put my uniform on, covered the children back up with their blankets and made my way. General Morris gave the same speech as yesterday morning, verbatim, before we were ushered through the side door, down the stairs and out into the cold. We walked around the back of the hotel, past a vehicle bay, containing numerous army vehicles, one recruit recognised as Panthers, Vectors and Vikings. When we got past the hotel, there was a large open area, which soon became obvious would be our home for the foreseeable future. There seemed less of us than yesterday, I couldn’t name who was missing, but I could see both Adrian and Hassan ahead of me, as Captain Jones came into view. I like what I’ve seen of Captain Jones, he doesn’t appear to be a prick, just for the sake of it. He has authority, but I have seen him having a laugh with some of the soldiers, and they certainly respect him. He’s about my height, with light brown hair and beard. He wears circular glasses, like the ones John Lennon made famous, and is constantly taking them off to clean. With him was Lieutenant Higginson, Second Lieutenant Jackson and Lance Corporal Farrell, all standing in a line waiting for us. I zipped up my combat jacket, as the cold winds rattled my bones, and sent dust ballooning into the air. There was a large piece of waste land, with an area marked on the ground using sandbags and sticks, all under the light of four generator powered lights, one in each corner. There were about twenty big black bags at one end, with a wooden post at the other. Captain Jones split us into two groups at first, as he inspected our uniforms and appearance. He started to walk along the depleted line we had formed in front of him, continuing until he reached Ben Hartley, a local builder, who looked uneasy as Captain Jones looked him up and down. ‘Where are your boots private?’

  ‘They were rubbing’ he stammered, looking more uneasy as Captain Jones moved his face closer.

  ‘Rubbing?’

  ‘Yes sir, I was going to change them-’

  ‘Get the fuck out of my sight, yesterday was for suiting, you’re wasting everybody’s time.’

  The man turned around and slowly made his way back towards the hotel, as Captain Jones finished his inspection. ‘Good morning recruits, I trust you have had a good sleep in preparation for today’s excursions. We will start with the news that after yesterday’s gun range exercise, we have lost nine men, deemed not good enough. Now the real challenge starts, most of you will not complete the next three days, only a handful will make it through to be considered for selection. This is where it’s going to get tough, I want to split you into two, each group with a team leader. Driver, you will be leader of Team Red, Cox will be leader of Team Blue. I want to see how you both react to this extra responsibility, will you thrive or will you bottle it under pressure. Behind you are thirty tents, in bags, ready for assembly. Each team has twenty minutes to get ten tents up and ready, starting now.’

  As everyone started running around, Captain Jones collared Cox and myself and warned us, ‘Your team is your responsibility, if your team fails, you fucking fail, move out.’

  I have always been a camper, even spending nights camped out on my farm, by the lake. Feeling this task played to my strengths, I got to work giving each tent enough space to peg out. I gave each man in my team a bag, spaced them out evenly by eye and ordered them to, ‘Unfold your tent, lay it out and insert the poles.’ I ran up and down the line, helping anyone who was struggling, fortunately most recruits had some experience with erecting tents, some finishing theirs in little over five minutes. When they were done, I ordered them to help with the recruits who were less confident, instead of just waiting around with their arms folded. ‘Come on lads we’re a fucking team.’ With just less than five minutes remaining, we had just three tents needing pegging out, and their inners adding, including mine which I cracked on with. We finished with around two minutes to go, as did Team Blue. I’m not sure how Cox did in the other leader role, I didn’t get time to actually stop and watch him, but I was happy with how I performed. Captain Jones inspected our tents, and told us we’d be sleeping in them for the next two nights. We were then lined up in our groups, and ordered to ‘Get on your hands and give me ten press ups.’

  Everyone jumped down and started the workout, the dust rising up into our faces as we started off at a good pace. The workout consisted of ten repetitions of traditional pushups, traditional sit-ups, wide pushups, reverse crunches, close-grip pushups and double-crunches. There was no time to get your breath back, no br
eak in the workout, we had to push through the pain. When we had finished the first circuit, we were made to start again, immediately, completing five circuits before we could stop. By the third circuit, my legs and arms were burning, the pain was like knives slashing at my limbs, but I wouldn’t stop, I pushed and pushed until I had completed. The dust was blowing into our eyes, blinding us, making the task even harder, and the dirt was building up under my finger nails. Captain Jones walked along the line shouting abuse at us all, as we struggled through the pain barrier. ‘What are you fucking stopping for Harper? Are you going to give up? Do you want to ring the loser bell? You are a fucking embarrassment, you can leave right now if you want? I’ll help you over to the bell you fucking joke.’

  Captain Jones seemed to take an interest in one of the bigger built fellas, personal trainer D’Sean Stansfield, who was struggling as much as the rest of us. ‘Look at the fucking size of you Stansfield, you’re the biggest one here, and you cannot lift shit, all these muscles are for fucking show.’

  Every recruit from both Team Red and Team Blue completed the workout, but for some, including Hassan, it was a real struggle. In all we repeated one hundred and fifty repetitions of both pushups and sit-ups, I’ve never been in so much pain. We were warned, if anyone failed to complete the task, the whole exercise was started again, from zero. Just to make things worse, a shower rolled overhead, the rain slowly soaking us, and sapping what little energy we had, soon I could no longer feel the cold anymore. When we had finished, they sat us down in rows, linking our arms, and gave us our only meal of the day, an energy bar. ‘Make sure you eat every crumb,’ barked Captain Jones. ‘You’re going to need every, fucking, gram of energy from it, before the days out you’re going to have burned over fifteen thousand calories.’ As we sat in the rain, shivering, arm in arm, trying to keep warm, five vehicles pulled up. ‘Everyone up’ shouted Captain Jones. ‘We’re going for a little drive.’ We were manhandled to our feet, and bundled into the back of the waiting vehicles. There was room for six people per car, including the driver. I thought we might get chance to have a little sleep, to regain some energy and warmth, but it wasn’t the case. If anyone dozed off, they were slapped and shouted at, songs were sung to keep us awake. We drove out of Camp Blue through the Delta Security Base, and headed down Woodside Road towards the beach. I looked at the faces of the men around me, shivering and tired, wondering what we were going to be forced to do. Soon we were bouncing over the sand dunes, following the beach to the left. Out of the window I could see wooden posts every fifty yards, knocked into the ground with a red marker around the top, that blurred as we drove past. The vehicles ahead came to a stop, we pulled up behind and climbed out to stretch our legs. We formed a group in front of Captain Jones, to listen to what he had to say. ‘This is to be your final task for today recruits’ he said aloud. ‘It’s simple, you have to run the entire length of Blackpool Beach, and back, within a time limit. You have three hours to complete the run, if you fail to finish in time, you’re done. Stay on the beach and follow the red markers until you reach the black one, then turn around and come back. Make it back in time, and you will go through to tomorrow. And this is a competition, Reds against Blues.’ I don’t think anyone was really ready for the start of the run, but we were given no time to prepare. As he walked away, Captain Jones shouted ‘Go’, and everyone set off. My first thought was to keep our team together, so in the early stages we slowed right down, and tried to motivate each other. When I was younger, I was really quite good at long distance running, making the school team at both primary and secondary level. But I fucking hated it, it pissed me off I was made to do it, and I felt pretty much the same now. The sand was wet with rain, that was still coming down, making the running slightly easier than it would have been. As we started lagging behind the blue team, their footprints became a path to follow. It was a real slog, all I could do was focus on different locations along the route, and when we turned at the half way point, pick them out again. We hadn’t even got a mile under our belts before the group began to split, and Cox and his team started to build a lead, and increase it with every stride. For the first seven to eight miles, I didn’t feel too bad, my legs were hurting, but I kept my breathing in check. But then the pain in my legs went, I lost all feeling in them, like I was running on clouds, and they could collapse under my weight at any moment. My feet started to rub, and hurt with every step. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was starting to lose my balance as I ran. Sweat was pouring off me, stinging my eyes, and causing my uniform to stick to my body. I concentrated on my breathing, to pull me out the other side, which it did. The rain really didn’t help, we constantly had to wipe it out of our eyes, and it restricted our view distance down to a few metres. Three members of my team were really struggling, they were barely moving, and looking to stop at any opportunity. For a while I split from them, as I tried to shorten Cox’s lead, but in the end I decided to stay with my team, and help them through it. I got a bit of abuse from the rest of my team for my choice, but I stood by it. ‘I’m not doing a fucking forfeit because that fat bastard cannot run’ was one particularly uncharitable comment that sticks out in my memory. It was disheartening to see members of Team Blue, running past us in the opposite direction, having already past the half way point. I pushed my team on, not knowing what our time was, just concentrating on finishing. Hassan was really struggling, at around four miles to go, he hit the metaphorical brick wall and stopped, shortly after that he started vomiting, he was overheated and completely out of breath. He told us to go without him, that we should leave him, as he was letting his team down. It took him a couple of minutes to get his breath back, and recompose himself. I used that time to instill the confidence in him to finish, that he could do it. Adrian and I took his weight, one arm each, and lifted him off the ground. We jogged the final couple of miles as a team, helping each other, and supporting whoever needed it. We came over the line well past the three hour cut off, with a grinning Cox the first face to greet us. One of the vehicle’s back doors was open, with Lieutenant Higginson handing out bottles of water to all those that finished, we descended on him to rehydrate, and wait for confirmation of our fate. Captain Jones climbed out if his vehicle and approached the men, ‘Team Blue won then did they?’ He asked. ‘We did captain’ replied Cox, with an air of arrogance. ‘Well done, who was last to finish in your team Cox?’

  ‘I’m not sure sir.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I finished first sir, I pushed my team forward, and lead from the front.’

  ‘But you don’t know where your team finished?’

  ‘They all finished ahead of Team Red sir.’

  ‘All right, everyone back in the vehicles.’

  When we got back to camp, Captain Jones ordered everyone to line up on the parade ground, for the days summing up.

  ‘Recruits, today has been a hard day for all of you,’ he said. ‘And an enlightening one for us. Some of you have shown signs of weakness, some of leadership. Is there anyone who wants to leave the process?’ The row of men were silent, until Paul Grey, one of the stragglers from Team Blue, put his arm in the air.

  ‘You had enough Grey?’

  ‘Yes sir, I have an injury to my-’

  ‘Bullshit, you’re a pussy. You wanna leave your men behind, you’re going to have to ring the losers bell. If you cannot hack it, come over here and ring this bell.’ Grey left the line, and walked up to the bell. ‘Go on ring it then’ said Captain Jones. Grey lifted his hand to the rope, and taking a look down the line of recruits willing him to re join the parade, he rang it. ‘Right get the fuck out of my sight. Does anyone else want to ring the bell? What about you Hana, you were throwing your guts up, do you want to ring the loser bell?’

  ‘No sir’ Hassan answered, as Grey made his way back towards the hotel.

  ‘Are you fucking sure?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘I’m not sure you can hack it Hana, but I’ll credit
your determination. Make sure you get enough sleep for tomorrow, that’s it for today, fall out.’

  The team dispersed to their respected tents, as Captain Jones and the other officers made their way back to the hotel. At the far end of the parade ground, a large tent was being erected, with a red cross on the canopy. A few of the recruits braved the outdoor showers, but most just made do. The smell around the tents was insufferable, stinking body odour and musty damp clothing. When the rain stopped, a couple of the recruits made a fire, which everyone crowded around, to continue with some male bonding. Sergeant Davis turned up with two buckets full of cold beers, which was as refreshing as any drink I’ve every had. He stayed a while to talk to me, and listened to my concerns about my performance today. ‘You did right’ he said, trying to reassure me. ‘The objective was really about team work, and not leaving anyone behind. You did exactly what you should have done, the other guy had no idea where the rest of his team was, only interested in self glory.’

  That was good to know, Sergeant Davis didn’t stay long, but he left me in a better frame of mind about my performance. As he was walking away, he told me to get my team to sleep early, tomorrow would be even harder. We had been starved all day, with the energy bar the only food we had been given. Hassan’s wife, Shazia, turned up with some leftover bread from dinner, there wasn’t enough for everyone, so we kept it quiet and only gave it to the ones who looked like they needed it. I spoke briefly with Shazia, who said she was worried with how terrible Hassan looked, I reassured her it had been hard for everyone, and I would keep my eye on him. Adrian looked in a similar state to me, his knees swollen and red, he sat on the floor with them out in front of him. My feet were also swollen and sensitive, I removed my boots to let them breath. The moisture had got through to them, making them red and sore. We sat and had a couple of beers, listening to Cox bleating on about his win, and how well he had organised them. I decided to bite my lip, and not tell him what Davis had said, if that’s how he thinks he should be running his team, I’ll leave him to it. Hassan retired to his tent shortly after, looking half dead, and I don’t think tomorrow will be any easier on him. I decided to stretch my legs before bed, to hopefully stop them seizing up overnight. I walked around to the front of the camp, hoping I might run into Mrs Brownhill, and sure enough she was stood by the entrance to the hotel, leaning on the Blackpool Tower Eye having a cigarette. ‘Hi Lauren, I’m glad I’ve run into you.’

 

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