Dext of the Dead (Book 5): We Are The End

by Kuhn, Steve

  “Seth walked down to switch out the targets, some old bottles and shit, when they came. Listen to me… one time he lapsed. He let his guard down that one time, and the dead took his boy from him. He tried with everything he had to pull him away from them. He grabbed Liam’s hand, and all he brought back was his son’s arm. That was when it started. That was when he started to lose control. It took me weeks to get his head right again.

  “We saved each other’s ass more times than I can count on the road to Vegas. We were seasoned by then. We got good at killing. Anything that posed a threat to our lives, we eliminated with extreme prejudice, and Gino made us nice and comfortable because of it. We enforced Vegas. We made Vegas!

  “Then the shit with Chalmers happened. I know that’s what did it. He heard Chalmers’ boy murdered, and it brought it all back again. That’s when he started to lose control. I can fix him. I know how to fix him. I just need time. He’s like a big mutt, ya know? He’ll kill anything he perceives as a threat to his own, but he’s loyal—loyal and lovable beyond anything you people can imagine to those who he views as family. That’s why he challenged Boyd. That’s why he did what he did to those people in there. He’s taking no chances with this group because he knows you, and Don, and Kylee, and Lilly… and now even Boyd… are his people. I don’t know what else I can say.”

  I stared at Seth, lying there injured and unstable, as he tried to get comfortable on the ground. The shade of the awning was no longer covering him as the day moved on, and it was getting hotter. We had to get going.

  Kylee scoffed at my decision, but I told Nick, “Fine. He lives. We’ll get him to Kilo. Maybe they got a medic that can patch him up. Once he’s been treated, though, you guys gotta go. That’s the compromise we’re offering. We’re tying him up, too, for everyone’s safety.”

  Nick shot it down immediately, saying, “No. No tying him up. He’s fucked up as it is, and his arm doesn’t look so hot. Plus, if we get into trouble, I’m not having him tied up and helpless. You get us to Kilo, and I’ll make sure he behaves until we’re there. We can keep him in the cab of the truck, away from everyone else until then. I can drive the rig. We’ll keep Don with us up there as a guard or whatever. That’s the deal.”

  We shook hands and helped him get Seth into the sleeper of the truck, where Don told everyone, “I won’t take my eyes off him. He’s pretty much out of it anyway. We’ll be with Kilo before dark.”

  And that’s how Nick saved his best friend’s life today, shouldah-nigga style.

  Entry 154

  We made it! I was gonna try to build it up so it sounded more dramatic and shit, but I’m just too damn excited. We. Fuckin’. Made. It! More than halfway across the country, countless miles, often hungry, always afraid, lost friends, the bernies, the Haven, the cross-huggers, the community, the pirates, the facility, Vegas, Nellis… Now, finally, we’ve reached them—Kilo fuckin’ Company, baby!

  I was so happy to meet Hicks, I almost went full homo and kissed him right on his face. I didn’t, though. That dude was no joke. He prolly woulda beat my ass or some shit. Regardless, I think they were just as happy to see us as we were to see them. Well, maybe not, but who cares?

  I was in the back when we got there along with the others, but I was sound asleep. The entire day had just exhausted me, and Seth was heavy on my mind. Pair that with the vibration of the truck, and I was asleep in minutes. That was cool, though, because at least I didn’t have to deal with the anxiety during the last leg of the trip. The truck must’ve stopped without waking me, but the pounding on the side of the trailer had me up on my feet with my gun in my hand immediately. Once I realized what was going on, I tucked my pistol away and moved to join Lilly, Kylee, and Boyd at the rear of the trailer.

  It was already full-on dark outside, but as the trailer doors swung open, we were blinded by the white wash of light from these huge stadium-style lighting rigs. When my eyes finally adjusted, my heart swelled at the sight. The four of us stood there in a tight group staring out at nearly sixty men in full combat gear, lined neatly in formation, and standing at parade rest. We were in a huge, open field with visibility for at least a mile in every direction. It was the perfect spot; plenty of time to assess an incoming threat, and plenty of room to make an escape if necessary. One man stood out in front of them, barking something that I couldn’t quite make out over the hum of the generators running the light rigs.

  As Don and Nick appeared from around the side of the trailer, half carrying Seth, Hicks approached us with two other men. The formation dissolved as the rest of them moved off to occupy whatever stations they were assigned.

  Hicks looked like your typical battle-hardened marine. He was in his mid-thirties and had a short, scruffy beard that looked like he tried to keep it neat, but the circumstances wouldn’t allow it. His fatigues fit him loosely; no doubt from losing weight, but we could still tell the dude was probably ripped underneath—mostly because, even though he was stocky, his shoulders and chest were shaped like a ‘V.’ He had the unwavering glare of a leader, one that was respected even before words leave his mouth.

  Hicks started to greet us, but Don didn’t give him the opportunity. He addressed Hicks immediately with, “Medic. You got a medic? We got wounded here.”

  The two men trained their weapons on Seth, one of them asking nervously, “Is he bit? What’s on his fuckin’ arm? Yo! You bit? Fuck’s wrong with this guy?”

  Don answered calmly, “Gunshot, and the little girl has a neck wound. Her stitches probably need attention.”

  Hicks snapped at his men, “Calm your tits, both of ya! Don’t you two silly shits think if he was bit, they woulda known how to handle it?” He turned to talk to Don as the men lowered their weapons. “You’ll have to excuse these two dickwads. They’re all a li’l jumpy after the last herd came through. Bernies tried to flank us last night, and we lost two more men. We had to put ’em down. It never gets any easier. How’d your boy get popped? Raiders? More fuckin’ pirates?”

  Don shook his head and simply said, “Long story. So… about that medic?”

  With a nod, Hicks called over his shoulder, “Parker! Get me Parker over here!” Some of the men to his rear looked around, but ultimately shrugged as if they couldn’t see who they were looking for. Hicks rolled his eyes and shouted again with more of an impatient tone, “Goddammit, if Parker isn’t here in five seconds, every one of you are on shit-burnin’ detail for the next week! Move your asses!”

  In three seconds flat, a young man came jogging across the field towards us. The guy was about my age, maybe a bit younger, but he moved confidently. He posted up next to Hicks and said, “Sorry. I was takin’ a piss.” He noticed us and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Holy shit! They made it!”

  Hicks nodded and told him, “Yeah. They got wounded, though. Gunshot on the guy, and the girl’s got stitches that need a look.”

  Parker sized us up briefly and told the two men with Hicks, “He’s in shock. Take him into the surgery tent, and tell Big Stank to prep him. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Nick quickly piped up, “I’ll go with him.”

  With a tight-lipped shake of his head, Parker said firmly, “No can do, slick. Gotta keep it sterile in there.”

  Nick smiled the smile of a guy who wasn’t about to be told no and replied with a sarcastic formality, “While I appreciate what you’re sayin’, Parker, I wasn’t exactly asking you, and I encourage you to refrain from calling me ‘slick’ again. My name is Nick. Now let’s keep this civil, and I won’t have to break your legs in front of all your friends for ya. How’s that sound?”

  Hicks chuckled at Nick’s comment and slapped Parker on the back. “Guy’s got balls. I’ll give ’im that!” Then he turned to Nick and said, smiling, “Listen up, slick… You’re on my soil now. If Parker says you can’t go in, then you can’t go in, simple as that. However, you’re welcome to follow ’im over there and post up outside if that’s what you wanna do. If you decide to be
a clever, little prick about it, you’re also welcome to hop back in this here rig and get the fuck off my land, savvy?”

  Nick grunted, but gave Hicks his way. “Fair enough.” He aided Seth along with the two of Hicks’ men toward a small village of tents in the center of the field.

  Parker turned his attention to Lilly, kneeling down to her level, and said, “All right, little one, lift your head up and let me take a look.”

  Lilly complied, but not before snapping, “My name is Lilly, asshole, and don’t call me ‘little’ again.” She was clearly emulating Nick, and Hicks picked up on it.

  He said to no one in particular, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

  Parker ignored them both and said with a frustrated sigh, “Jesus, who performed this abortion? Fuckin’ amateurs, no doubt. These should’ve come out days ago. You’re gonna have a helluva scar, too, little lady.”

  Lilly swiftly stabbed her right hand forward and caught Parker right in his Adam ‘s apple, which sent him sprawling back on his ass. He choked and sputtered for a moment as he tried to catch his breath, leaving Lilly to warn him once more, “I said… don’t call me ‘little’!”

  Parker regained his composure and said to us all, “Jesus! What the hell you been teachin’ this kid?”

  Hicks laughed boisterously, clearly amused at Lilly’s spunk, and told Parker, “Looks to me like they been teachin’ her exactly what she needs to know to make it out here.” He told Lilly, “Nice moves, Lilly. Let’s get you over to triage. I figure one of Parker’s boys can get those stitches out while he works on your friend. Sound all right?”

  Lilly nodded at Hicks then stuck her tongue out at Parker. She held out her hand to Kylee and said, “Kylee? Can you come with me?”

  Kylee looked at us almost as if she was asking our approval. I told her to go on. That left me, Don, and Boyd standing there with Hicks. He stared at Boyd for a long moment, which added to an already tense silence. “Mr. Boyd! Glad you could join us,” Hicks said jokingly. “I trust you enjoyed your break. Now, if you’d be so kind as to go see Masters over at the mess tent, he’d be happy to give you some proper clothing. Once you’re done there, make your way over to Johannes on the western side of the perimeter and tell him he’s relieved. I think Cook is still over there as well. He’ll spot for you. You’re on the scope until sunup.”

  Boyd stood there silently in shock. I don’t think he was expecting to be brought right back into the fold and given any duties. I also don’t think there was any way of questioning Hicks on this, as evidenced by his follow-up of, “Boyd! You’re dismissed. Fuck outta here.” Boyd hopped to it like he never missed a beat.

  Don asked Hicks, “What now?”

  With a calculating look on his face, Hicks told us, “Nothin’. We’re dug in, and we’re gonna stay that way at least for the next day or three. I’m slammed right now as it is. I gotta get reports on inventory after last night’s firefight. I gotta walk the entire perimeter and take reports from the firing lines. I gotta get word to Thigpen that you all made it, albeit a little worse for wear, and I gotta get those bodies buried. Can’t have those boys lyin’ out there with nothin’ but a tarp coverin’ them up. Bad for morale, ya know?”

  I asked him, “Is there anything we can help with?”

  He told me kindly, “Yeah, as a matter of fact there is. Take fifteen minutes to get yourselves squared away, and meet me over there at the mess tent.” He pointed to the spot where Boyd had walked off towards a few moments earlier. “And bring your shovels.” He didn’t say another word. He spun a lazy about-face and stalked off to the tent.

  If burying some more bodies is all we have to do tonight, I’m fine with that. It’ll get my mind off of Seth and Nick anyway. Sadly, I’ve gotten pretty damn good at burying people.

  But we’re here now.

  We made it!

  Entry 155

  Kind of ironic that I slept the last three nights surrounded by some of the most elite fighters the world has ever known, and I didn’t feel safe. It definitely had everything to do with the bright light and the loud generators. The men weren’t exactly quiet either. They hooted and hollered, played cards, cracked jokes, and all that until well into the darkness. Don’t get me wrong, though; they weren’t all jerkin’ off. Of course, the perimeter was tight, and the guard posts were well manned. It’s just that everyone seemed too comfortable with the situation.

  I asked Hicks about it this morning. I was careful not to sound like I was criticizing his people or whatever, but I couldn’t help but voice my concern. He was cool about it.

  He was eating some kind of ration, and he spoke around mouthfuls of food, saying, “You gotta understand somethin’, kid. These guys don’t get much time to themselves anymore. In fact, this is the first time we’ve stopped for more than a day since back east. If I don’t let them blow off steam, they all go kinda nutso. A man spends the majority of his time fighting for his life, killing everything that moves in the process, it’s easy to lose yourself in it. The guys need an element of normality to keep their heads in the game.”

  I thought about that for a second. It all made sense except for one thing he said. So, I asked him about it. “Why are you guys still doing this anyway? Everything is gone. Everyone is dead in one way or another. Why even bother with a concept such as ‘duty’?”

  That offended him, I think. He didn’t say so, but his tone got a little shitty. He gave me an icy stare and said, “Because we took an oath, and we believe in that oath. The men here said they’d give their lives for their country, and they meant it. Ya see, kid, all the weak ones are dead and gone. The world swallowed them up. That’s war. All we have left are the strongest, the survivors—even you. You don’t look like much, but you’re still here. That means you’re a tough motherfucker. The way I see it, if we can get all these tough motherfuckers on the same page, this country, the whole world even, still has a chance. We are the front lines, kid, and if you think that after all the tours I’ve seen overseas that I’m gonna bite it here on our soil, you’re dead wrong. We’re marines, and we don’t run from shit. Anyone callin’ themselves a marine who ran wasn’t a fuckin’ Devil Dog in the first place. Look at Boyd, for example…”

  I thought, ‘Boyd ran,’ but it was like Hicks was reading my mind. He said, “I’m not dumb. I know he took off after the convoy fell. He got scared, but he got his head right, and the Lord and Savior brought him back to us. I think you can see now that he’ll never make that mistake again. There’s not only safety in numbers, kid—there’s strength. Don’t you forget that. Now, if there’s nothing else you need to know, I got a question for you.”

  I shrugged at him. Wasn’t like I had anything to do. In fact, I was kind of enjoying the break. For the past two days we’d been bustin’ our asses around there, pitching in wherever we could. Even Nick left Seth’s side for a day to move some sandbags into a better firing position for the snipers. Lilly hadn’t left the snipers alone, either. She cleaned their weapons and asked them questions about setting up and how to displace silently after taking a shot. The guys were really takin’ a shine to her. They made her tell the story about throat punching Parker dozens of times, and they busted his balls about it nonstop.

  Hicks said to me, “That boy, Seth. I heard what he did. Kylee told me about his… mental state. I hear you and those two are supposed to be parting ways?” When I nodded an affirmative, he said, “Yeah, well, that ain’t gonna happen. We need everyone we can get. There’s only two groups of people left in the world—those who are with us and those who ain’t. And if you ain’t with us, you’re either gonna switch sides or die. If he don’t come around, that’s gonna be a problem—not for us, but for him, savvy?”

  It was a thinly veiled threat—one that told me whatever Nick had in mind, he better get it poppin’ soon. Hicks and I shared an understanding from that point on, so I popped in on Seth.

  He was alone in a tent that I could only assume was a recovery
station of some sort. His head still had some bruising and scratches from the trailer, and his arm was in a neat sling, held tightly against his body. I’d expected him to be resting, but instead I found him using the side of his cot as an incline as he did some push-ups with his good arm. He looked better considering the last time I saw him. He stopped when I came in and gave me a quiet, “Hi,” which I returned in kind.

  He started saying, “Look… um… my bad back there.” He let out a nervous laugh and said, “I, uh, kinda lost my shit.”

  I told him firmly, “Yeah, you lost your shit all right, and you almost lost more than that. You aren’t Mr. Popularity if you get my drift. You got the group scared shitless, and we had to seriously discuss what to do about you. You almost got Nick killed, too, ya know?”

  He frowned. “I know. He told me about everything. I wish he knew how much I appreciate what he said to you guys, saving me and all—saving us, rather. I dunno, man. What’s all this for? What are we fuckin’ doin’ here? We got the Goddamn military on our side, and we’re sitting around with our thumbs in our asses. We’ve got the only people in the fuckin’ world that might hold a way to fix everything that’s gone wrong, and we’re doin’ jack shit about it. I dunno, Dext. It’s fucked up, man. Why even bother if we’re all gonna die in the end?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. I wasn’t a psychologist, and I’d never talked anyone down, so to speak. I asked him, “Then why did you start fighting in the first place?”

  He said wistfully, “My son—all I cared about was keeping him safe. Nick said he told you about that day. After I lost him, I didn’t want to do anything but take out my rage and my guilt on anyone and anything. Then there was Vegas. I hoped for a new start in Vegas and actually had it. Then that got fucked up, too. If I don’t have something specific to drive me forward, then I’m as good as dead. I’m just over it, man.”