by John Holmes
My eyes blazed over red, and I kicked him in the wounded lung as hard as I could, heard a rib snap. The man screamed in pain over the morphine.
“You’re going to die, and you can do it hard or easy. Tell me, and it’s easy. Don’t, and it will be hard. Your choice.”
The man tried to catch his breath. Doc grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
“Nick, chill out. You’re going to kill this guy.”
“Doc, he’s a fucking cannibal. I am going to kill him. We don’t have time to play games here. If we can catch them before they get wherever they are going we have a good chance of getting her back. Otherwise, she’s dead, if she isn’t already. His life isn’t worth hers.”
The man was coughing up blood now. I walked over and whacked the butt of my rifle across his nose. He cried out in pain and started cursing me again.
“AHMED, COME OVER HERE!”
“Listen, shitbag. Ahmed was a torturer for the Taliban.” Standing behind the man, Ahmed’s eyes shot up. He had been no such thing. I ignored him. “He is going to fuck up your last hours on earth so bad you will beg me for death. Doc here can keep you alive for hours while Ahmed rips you apart. Tell me, and it’s quick and easy, I might even let you live. Don’t and he goes to work.”
“OK, the p-prison.” He started gasping for air and bleeding from the mouth again.
“Great Meadows?”
He nodded his head.
Damn. Great Meadows was a few miles north of here, a New York State maximum security prison. We had to get to her before they got there or we would never see her again.
“Let’s go!” I yelled, and I ran. Ahmed passed me, on point.
We left the wounded man on the ground. I let him live. The Zombies would not.
Chapter 38
“Nick, hold up. Wait a minute, let us think this through before we, how do you say, do something rash. .” Ahmed had stopped in front of me and was pulling out a Google map printout of the area.
“Let me show you a trick we pulled on you Americans time and again in my country. We know where they are going, and they are carrying a prisoner. They may have wounded with them. Judging by the shape those others were in they are likely to be overfed and out of shape. They are also probably following the main road back to the prison. We can get ahead of them here …” he pointed to a spot just south of the prison, where a road crossed over the canal “…and ambush them. If we continue to chase them down we may run into an ambush ourselves.”
“OK, Ahmed, you’re a better strategist than I am. Let’s go for it. If we haul ass up through the woods on this azimuth we can get behind them. But we have to run.”
And run we did. Weapons at the low ready, we pounded along, maintaining a steady pace that ate up the ground. The woods were free from undergrowth but we still took a chance. Out here in the countryside, the Zombie presence shouldn’t be that much. What I was worried about were others from this cannibal group who heard the sound of gunfire, and who might be heading this way. Chance we had to take. We rotated taking point, going by compass bearing in a straight line across overgrown fields and stands of trees.
At one point off to our left, through a break in the trees, we saw them moving up the road. We stopped to count and get a better estimate of their numbers. There were seven left. Two were carrying Brit slung up on a pole. One had fallen behind, obviously wounded. As we watched, the tail man turned and shot the one lagging behind. Six left.
“Well, I guess they’re going to be moving faster now.”
We got into position just a few minutes before they got there. We went to ground on the north side of the road junction, just inside the tree line. Doc scanned for Zombies in our back area, pulling security.
“Ahmed, this is going to be on you, mostly. Our Z guns aren’t going to have much range and we can’t risk hitting Brit. It’s up to you with the sniper rifle. Let them get close so Jacob and I can get some too. Drop the two carrying Brit, Jacob will work in from the left, me from the right.”
They came up in a gaggle. No security, just moving quickly down the road. I figured they felt safe, being only a few miles from their home ground. We waited until they had turned toward the bridge and were strung out in a line in front of us.
I heard Ahmed’s rifle utter a loud cough next to me, and the lead guy carrying Brit fell to the pavement. The other one carrying her dropped a second later, still staring at his partner. I fired two rounds into the lead man. Jacob opened up on the rear. My target went down firing wildly into the ground, emptying his rifle into the dirt. Jacob shifted aim to his next target, but rounds started coming back at us, zipping overhead, firing high in panic. Ahmed shot once more. The last man knelt and aimed a pistol at Brit, who lay trussed on the ground.
“Let me go or the bitch gets it!” He cocked back the hammer. It was quiet for a moment.
“Fuck it, I know you ain’t going to let me go! I’m damned anyway!” he yelled and shot Brit from five feet away. All three of us hit him just as he fired, spinning him around.
“BRIT!” I yelled. “DOC! GET UP HERE!” And before anyone could stop me, I was up across the road and running to her. As I ran up I put a three round burst into each of the figures lying on the ground. I dropped onto the ground next to Brit and ripped open her armor, searching for a wound.
Above her knee was a bloody hole where she had been hit in our initial firefight. It had clotted over but blood was seeping from under her shirt, just under the edge of her armor. She was breathing really fast through her nose, Duct tape was slapped across her mouth. I ripped it off so she could breathe better, but her face was white. She was going into shock.
Doc shoved me aside hard and got to work, ripping open his aide bag and cutting away her shirt.
“Anything else?” he asked me as he rolled her onto her side to look for an exit wound. Nothing. He stuck a tampon in the entry wound and pressed my hand against it to hold it there. He punched an IV into her arm and started forcing fluids into her.
“I’m going to work on her, but she has some internal bleeding. We gotta get her back to the CASH at Fort Orange. Hold this up in the air.” He handed me the IV bag. He meant the Combat Support Hospital at Task Force Empires’ main base down by Albany.
“I got it, Doc. Just keep her stable while I get them on the horn.”
“Valkyrie, Valkyrie, this is Lost Boys, Nine Line Follows, over.”
I called two more times before the RTO called back asking for the MEDEVAC info. Behind me I heard Brit moaning and Doc trying to reassure her. “It fucking hurts, Doc. Gimme some morphine. Oh my God, this fucking hurts so damn bad.”
Jacob handed me a piece of paper with the 9 line info written out.
“Line One: Grid X-ray November 7834-9873”
“Line Two: Frequency 2200, Lost Boys 6”
“Line Three: One Bravo” Urgent Surgical, this told the surgery team to be standing by.
“Line Four: Alpha, none” meant no special medical equipment
“Line Five: Alpha, one” One litter patient
“Line Six: Papa” - Possible enemy troops in area, approach with caution
“Line Seven: Orange Smoke” marked the pickup area
“Line Eight: US Military”
“Line Nine: Open flat ground.”
The RTO repeated it back to me, confirming what I sent. Then he asked me who it was. I knew the guy on the radio, a kid who was a pretty good med surg nurse. We knew he had a real name but we’d called him Quesadilla for so long we didn’t remember it anymore.
“It’s Brit, and she’s pretty bad, Quesadilla.”
“Roger that, Nick. I’ll rush it. Out.”
I sat holding Brit’s hand while waiting for the call back. It came almost two minutes later, but it seemed to be eternity. She was mumbling something as Doc pushed the IV fluids into her.
“Lost Boys, this is Empire Six. Mission denied, over.”
“WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSION DENIED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE?�
� I hissed into the microphone, not wanting to disturb Brit.
“You heard me, Lost Boys. We don’t have the air assets to pick up your soldier. Recommend you find alternative Evac. Over.”
“WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE AND SHE IS DYING, YOU PRICK!” I was screaming into the microphone now.
“I’m not risking a valuable air asset to pick up your little whore, Agostine. Empire 6, out.”
I slammed the mike into the ground and screamed my frustration at the sky.
Chapter 39
I sat and held Brit’s head in my lap. She was moaning softly. Doc had shot her with some morphine, but being gut shot, the pain was intense. He couldn’t give her anymore or else her blood pressure would drop.
“Nick, what are going to do? We can’t stay here. There’s going to be Zs and those guys’ friends are going to come looking. ” Ahmed and Jacob stood guard, watching the tree line and down the road. Doc stood over me.
I stared dully up at him. Brit was dying. I could feel it. I had seen it far too many times. The only thing I was thinking now was whether to make it quick for her, and if we would have time to bury her. I wasn’t going to leave her for the animals, human or otherwise.
“Come on, Nick, we gotta move. Zs will be showing up here lickety-split.”
I took my pistol and put it over her heart. She was unconscious. I sat for a second, completely undecided and denying what was happening. Pictures of our times together over the last year flashed through my mind. Finding her at the school, travelling back to the Finger Lakes, our scouts together down the valley. Nights on watch, shooting the shit. Keeping each other warm on cold nights. We had been together for a long time, and saved each other’s lives over and over again.
“Doc, I can’t do it. Stick her.” Doc nodded and reached into his bag for a needle.
Then the radio crackled into life.
“Lost Boys, Lost Boys, Valkyrie 6, over.”
I grabbed the hand mike from Jacob.
“Valkyrie 6, this is Lost Boys, over!” Valkyrie 6 was Major McHale, the Air Ambulance Company Commander.
“Lost Boys, we are ten mikes from your position. Pop smoke when you have us in sight.”
“DOC! MEDEVAC INBOUND, five mikes!”
“Nick, we have other problems. Coming down the road.” I looked up to see Ahmed firing at a group coming down Route 4 on the other side of the canal. They scattered and started returning fire.
“Valkyrie, be advised, we are under fire. Hostiles are on the other side of the canal, across the bridge, about three hundred meters west of my position.”
Another voice came over the radio. “Lost Boys, this is Foe Hammer 9. Keep your heads down, boys.” Then I heard that wonderful ripping sound of a 30mm cannon, and the road across the bridge erupted in a cloud of dust and explosive rounds going off. The firing stopped.
“Foe Hammer, good effects. LZ cleared. Thanks, over!”
“Lost Boys, this is Foe Hammer, anytime. Foe Hammer out.”
I heard the rotor blades of the MEDEVAC thumping their way up the valley, and threw an smoke grenade.
“Valkyrie, Orange smoke, over.”
“Roger, I copy Orange smoke.”
A battered UH-60 came thundering up the canal, flared, and set down to the right of the smoke. I grabbed the IV bag. We helped the Flight Medics set her on the litter, and I squeezed her hand one more time, and she gave me a weak grin. As they strapped her in, I ran over to the pilot’s side. Major McHale slid open the window. I reached in my hand and grabbed his, showing him how thankful we were for his disobeying orders. He yelled to me over the rotor wash.
“Your team saved my life, Nick, when we went down over in Pittsfield. I repay my debts.”
“What about Colonel MacDonald?”
“Screw that shithead. He needs me more than I need him.” He looked down, listening over his headset, gave me a thumbs-up and shut the window. I ducked down and ran away to the side as he powered up. The UH-60 thundered up into the sky and I watched them tip over and head back down the canal, the rotor wash throwing up spray, the Apache providing top cover leading the way. I followed them with my eyes until they disappeared around a bend.
“Is she going to make it, Doc?”
“I don’t know, Nick. She has internal bleeding, so she is going to have to go straight into surgery. Fortunately, it was a small caliber bullet, .25 I think. I don’t think it hit any bone and shattered. I give her a fighting chance.”
“That’s all she would ask for, Doc, a fighting chance. It’s all any of us have ever got.”
We shouldered our packs and moved on out across the bridge.
Chapter 40
I opened up my iPhone and downloaded all my messages. Nothing on Brit’s condition yet, but I knew as soon as she was out of surgery they would call us on the radio. At the top of the list, with a HIGH PRIORITY and REQUEST RECEIPT, was the FRAGO that I had been expecting.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: LOSTBOYS6@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL
CC: S3@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL; [email protected]; [email protected]
SUBJ: FRAGO 16 OPORDER 17-034 OPERATION HAWKEYE
REFERENCE: ENEMY ACTIVITY
TASK ORGANIZATION: IRREGULAR SCOUTS / TF EMPIRE / U.S. ARMY / MIDATLANTIC COMMAND
1. SITUATION: Concentration of Anti-American Forces vicinity Grid NF 4523-8734
2. MISSION: Determine Strength, Activity, Location of suspected Anti- American Forces in and around NY State Correctional Facility Great Meadows vicinity Grid NF 4523-8734
3. EXECUTION: NLT 201707130300 unit will provide information to higher command to facilitate neutralization of Anti-American Forces at designated location.
4. SUSTAINMENT: None
5. COMMAND / SIGNAL: PER OPERATIONS ORDER 17-034 APPENDIX B
Our original mission had been diverted, of course. LTC Jackass saw a chance for action and glory. For once, however, we agreed. I hate cannibals. I had to laugh at his “Anti-American Forces”. Someone was still stuck in the desert fighting hajjis.
We were already sitting in a hide site across the canal from the prison, waiting for daylight. Doc, Ahmed and Jonesy were sleeping while Jacob and I kept watch. As the light slowly filtered into the east, we all woke for stand-to, making sure no one had sneaked up on us in the night, no Zs had stumbled into our area. We hadn’t seen one since the day before; apparently our friends across the canal had been doing a pretty good job of clearing them out.
Every half hour I called Valkyrie to check on Brit. Late in the morning Major McHale came on the horn.
"Lost Boys 6, this is Valkyrie 6, your 5 element is out of surgery. Doing OK, sedated. Will fill you in tomorrow, over."
I said a silent prayer of relief and tapped my head with the hand mike while letting out my breath. Then I gave a thumbs-up to the rest of team. They all grinned back at me.
Feeling like I had just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, I went back to watching the prison.
"Are you crying, Nick?"
"Fuck you, Jonesy."
“You seem to be a little stressed, Nick. Why you be cursing so much?”
“”I got your stress right here. I’ll be fine once we get to shoot someone.”
As I watched through my binos, I saw a truck which had been parked across the front gate of the prison rumble to life and roll back across. An army LMTV, the cab chopped off and armor plate welded across the front, pulled out and drove off down the road to the county prison. In the back were a group of women, dressed in orange prison jumpsuits. They stopped midway and the women, about a dozen, climbed off the back. One man with a shotgun jumped down from the remains of the cab. They headed to a field that was showing some corn sprouting up through the rows and started pulling weeds. The truck continued down to the county prison and returned with two dozen more men and women. They looked like concentration camp survivors, all skin and bones. The original group of women looked almost healthy in comparison. I counted a total of six guards,
armed with shotguns, rifles, and M-16s. As I watched, one of them occasionally whipped one of the workers. The truck returned to the county jail and started making trips to the backside of the prison. I counted five trips before the truck returned to the prison.
I handed the binos to Doc. He studied the scene for several minutes.
“Tell me what you think, Doc.”
“OK, the first group of women you saw are the party girls. Either voluntary or not. Fed better, not whipped so often. The others are slaves and meat.”
“Agreed. I counted three dozen civilians in the close field and 5 truckloads to the back fields. Make that a total of around a hundred thirty or so. Figure they have a back entrance to let the guards out to the back fields. Same number of guards per civilians, makes it around thirty guards out back. No idea how many are in the prison itself but you have to figure at least double that number. So, figure maybe a hundred cannibals.”
“Anti-American Forces.”
He snorted. “Whatever. Time to settle in and watch for a few hours. Later today we can head over and check out the county jail. Obviously being used as a slave pen. What I can’t figure out is they should be all stirred up by the helicopters and the gun fire yesterday, yet here they are, acting like nothing happened. ”
“I don’t know. Then again, tough as these guys might be locally, the heavy-duty shit might be outside their experience and they probably don’t know what to do other than go on about their business.”
