by Chris Bostic
Savage Hills
CHRIS BOSTIC
First printing, May 2016
Copyright © 2016, Chris Bostic
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1533319995
ISBN-13: 978-1533319999
Cover Design by Chris Bostic
All characters and events in this book are fictitious products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
DEDICATION
For my dedicated fans…
Without you, this book might have languished several more years before finally seeing the light of day. I couldn’t keep you waiting any longer.
CHAPTER 1
“You call this mopping up?” Joe dropped to a knee as a gigantic boom echoed in the distance, causing the hillside to shake. His buddy, the rail-thin Pete, flopped behind a rock and shuddered like a dog scared of a storm.
More thunderous impacts rumbled over the surrounding hills. Joe understood Pete’s reaction. Even with their liquid body armor, mortar rounds were best avoided.
Equally disturbing was Joe’s realization that the barbarians of the People’s Volunteer Army seemed to have plenty of fight left in them. So much for the PVA’s supposedly headlong, disorganized retreat, he thought with a sneer. But that was typical officer talk. Those guys never seemed to know what was really going on at the front lines.
Gravel tumbled down the slope from another massive blast. From a crouch, Joe tried to locate the rest of the squad. Connie, of course, was the only one standing tall.
The rocky slope was scattered with boulders, each barely big enough for one of his subordinates to cower behind, but Sergeant Constantine “Connie” Braddock wasn’t having any of that. Across a sloped, moon-like terrain dotted with scraggly, war torn trees, he pointed toward a saddle in the ridge above them.
“We got ‘em on the run,” Connie growled in reply. “Just move up.”
Joe watched his sergeant’s reaction as Pete replied, “You know that was more than a grenade, right?”
“Mighta been our boys,” Connie declared and grew more emphatic with his arm motions, trying his hardest to get the squad back to their feet. He glared over to where Pete cowered. “That wasn’t even close, ladies.”
For all Joe knew, the sergeant could have been right about that. He saw no trace of the actual explosions, though the concussions were enough to have him rattled.
“C’mon, guys. We need to keep up with the Fifth,” Kayla encouraged as she rose up from the right side of the squad’s position. “We’ve got this.”
Second-in-command, with a strong, calm voice and starkly unfeminine features, Kayla had a tendency to argue with orders, but not in this case. Rather than growl and curse, she did her best to pass them along with encouragement. And that’s what got the group to listen, if only Connie had known—or cared.
The words didn’t keep Kayla’s underlings, Leisa and Laura, from groaning. But they readily shouldered their packs and gripped their weapons.
“Yes, ma’am,” Leisa replied, leaving Connie out. Even without their headset communicators turned on, Joe knew the sergeant could hear her plainly.
Connie grunted derisively at his female soldiers, and stalked over toward the three remaining guys. His men, the ones who rightly belonged in the uniform of the Republic—or so Joe gathered from Connie’s words and actions.
“I’ll never get used to skirts in combat,” he muttered, and spat onto the blackened ground of the nameless hill.
“Are we burning daylight, Connie?” Danny joked, playing off the sergeant’s usual complaint.
The stocky teen had more than enough attitude, Joe thought, but their sergeant seemed to like his spunk. Out of the three guys, Danny was clearly his favorite—so much so that Connie always let him get away with dispensing with formalities. Besides, other than the super uptight officers who’d give you a hard time for the slightest indiscretion, no one else was much on saying sir and ma’am within the Regulator’s ranks anymore. At least not on a battlefield at the empire’s far frontier.
“You’re darn right we are,” Connie bellowed. “Fifth’s gonna be halfway to the Yula before you jokers get going. We’re always the last ones to glory.”
“And the last ones to get bedded down for the night,” Kayla added, looking to the darkening sky. The sun was seconds away from dropping below the ridge, so at least Joe could be thankful that the temperature would finally drop from a boil to a simmer.
Being the last one anywhere didn’t bother Joe. Truth be told, even if the decimated PVA forces were on the run, he figured none of the squad were necessarily looking for a fight. Not even the hard-nosed Danny or their long-serving veteran sergeant, no matter how tough they acted.
With the war against the outgunned PVA seeming like it was basically over, it seemed foolish to Joe to waste anymore lives. That made the mortar blasts all the more troubling. There was no way Joe wanted to be the last one to die right before the final surrender. He much preferred to see the PVA surrender quickly, hopefully before the war could escalate to the neighboring countries.
Then again, he knew in the back of his mind that the empire might not be satisfied with stopping after the conquest of the PVA. There was always one more conflict, one more land grab. Anything to distract the people at home from the miserable economy—and the increasing government crackdown on personal freedom that made a dictatorship look more desirable than the so-called Republic’s current leadership.
At Kayla’s patient urging, the squad closed ranks and set off across the side of the hill for their objective. Danny took the lead, trailed by the lanky Pete to his left. Joe, a couple inches shorter than Pete and with a build midway between the other two, stayed on the point man’s right.
The girls followed farther behind, exactly where Connie said they belonged.
Joe was ready to take his turn at the rear, but he knew that wouldn’t happen as long as Connie was in charge. “Women are made for cleaning up after the men,” he had said many times since the beginning of the squad’s mission to mop up pockets of enemy resistance.
Another boom echoed in the distance, farther away that time. Pete crouched again and Connie stepped to the side to plant a boot on his rear.
“Get up,” the sergeant grumbled. “You think you’d never heard a mortar before.”
“C’mon, Pete,” Joe told his buddy. “It’s all good.”
“Not so sure about that,” Pete replied. “There’s gotta be savages crawling all over the place. I know it.”
“Savages?” Connie reinserted himself into the conversation. “What are you, Division Intelligence?”
“I’m not the only one thinking it,” Pete replied. “The K-Nappers won’t let their neighbors collapse. They’re gonna join the battle.”
If the border state of Kunuri decides to enter the war to help out the PVA, we’re in for a heck of a fight, Joe thought, and found himself reluctantly bobbing his head in agreement. It was one thing to pick on the technologically-challenged PVA. Up until then, the Regulators had encountered little more than small bands of stubborn resistance as they’d blasted their way through the enemy hills, but Kunuri supposedly had ample manpower. Perhaps enough to turn the tide.
“Pete, did you say kidnappers?” Laura said.
Connie couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “It’s K-NAP.”
“Never heard that before. What’s it mean?” Laura asked, surprising Joe that she hadn’t heard about Kunuri’s troops potentially lurking across the border, if not already inside the country waiting for them.
“Kunuri National Army for Peace, or something like that,” Kayla answered, since Connie was still busy cackling. “I can’t pronounce it.�
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“Nobody can.” Connie snorted derisively. “Bunch of illiterate savages.”
“Army for Peace, that’s a good one,” Pete said. “Almost as funny as thinking the soldiers in the PVA are actually volunteers.”
“Not that we are either,” Joe mumbled under his breath. Though he would’ve liked to have known if the others agreed with Pete’s assessment, he kept looking forward trying to pinpoint more explosions and didn’t notice if anyone else had nodded along.
Like the others, Joe kept his helmet’s visor open. Between the body armor and the rest of his gear, it was a sweat bath inside the layers. But he preferred a little discomfort to having his head blown off.
The squad trudged across the uneven terrain, wearing out their ankles as they tilted to remain upright on the slope. Joe’s eyes flitted across the horizon. A PVA barbarian could pop out of hiding any second, and he was paid to be ready—for his sake and the others. Not well paid, nor well fed, but it beat the alternative. Back home he was neither.
“Go to comm,” Connie told the group, and pushed the button at the base of his helmet below his chin.
Joe followed suit, knowing they could talk more softly. The advanced sensors in their helmets amplified their whispers to normal speaking decibels.
“Everyone on?” Kayla asked, and six heads bobbed in acknowledgement. “Good.”
Joe wished there were a couple more heads to nod. The squad should’ve been nine, with two teams of four and a sergeant. But they were down two after the barbarians surprised them on a similar ridgeline a couple days before. But he had no time or inclination to relive the past. With a shake of the head, he watched as Connie gestured for his point man to lead on.
Danny eagerly took off, and at Connie’s further urging turned sharply uphill.
Sweat poured off Joe as he struggled to keep up, even though the liquid armor was somehow remarkable breathable. It was more the lack of oxygen in the higher peaks, and the sheer difficulty of the climb—especially laden down with a huge pack full of gear and several days’ supplies.
“Almost there,” Danny said between breaths, and settled into a fighting crouch. Joe smirked, knowing Connie wouldn’t harass his favorite pet for slouching. Danny was definitely no Pete, which was another reason why he ended up taking the lead on any advance.
With coilgun pointed at the top of the ridge, Joe eased the selector on his weapon from single shot to full auto mode. Just in case, though he hoped he wouldn’t need it this time. Or ever again.
Joe sucked in a giant breath. The weapon hummed faintly and vibrated as the capacitors stored up enough power to launch a half-dozen metallic slugs in less than a second.
“Fan out,” Connie whispered.
Joe knew the guys were supposed to follow Danny off to the left, and Kayla would bring the girls to the right. Being down two meant Joe ended up in the middle of the formation. Connie would be up his butt as tight as a suppository, but he didn’t mind in this case.
Danny hurried to his spot and waited as the others got into position. Boots scratching in the gravel gave their positions away and covered up any hope of Joe hearing voices or other advance warnings rising from the other side of the ridge.
With a raised arm, Danny motioned them forward. Joe took another deep breath and followed close behind.
He settled behind a boulder and watched as the tip of Danny’s helmet slowly crested the ridge. The point man quickly lunged forward, exposing his whole torso over the craggy top. His coilgun raked side to side but remained quiet, not that the electromagnetic weapon made much noise like the barbarians’ outdated cartridge rifles.
“All clear,” Danny announced, though everyone had already assumed as much since he still had a head on his shoulders and he remained in the open.
With a sigh of relief, Joe closed the last couple steps to the top of the ridge. He settled beside a boulder and mentally noted that the last of the explosions had ended minutes before. He was further relieved to not find a trace of smoke from a blast in the sky. They must have been far away, he reasoned.
The other side of the hill looked no different from what they’d just climbed. A long slope down to a narrow valley greeted them, the only difference being the orange sunset painting the blackened slag with a hellish, unwelcome tone.
Connie encouraged the guys to take a defensive crouch, and joined them in surveying the valley below. As he watched, he thumbed a different helmet communication button located underneath his square jawline.
“We’re in position.”
He turned his head in response to a message Joe couldn’t hear from their compatriots at the Fifth, and the entire squad followed Connie’s gaze. A blue laser blinked twice from farther down the ridge to their right.
Connie pulled a pen-like device from a chest pocket on his steel green uniform and pointed it toward the blue. Two quick presses with his thumb signaled them back.
“Got it,” he replied through the communicator. “Rest easy, boys.”
“Sweet. I’m ready to hit the sack,” an exhausted Pete announced. Joe knew he wasn’t the only one worn ragged. The whole squad was dead on their feet from having chased the retreating barbarians over the hills for the past week. Even the energetic Leisa and the even younger, chattier Laura were subdued.
“Not so fast, rookie,” Connie chided, turning back to the group. “We need a perimeter.”
“Seriously?” Pete replied, always one to take the easy way out.
Connie sat with his back against a boulder in a position where he could examine the whole valley from relative safety. “Seriously. You were the one all worried about the savages.” He pointed a short distance down the hill. “Set a perimeter. It might be all clear for the moment, but we’re still following protocol.”
Joe was surprised that Pete would continue the argument with Connie, and choked on his saliva when his buddy said, “You know what you can do with your-”
“No one’s around,” Kayla interrupted, thankfully. Joe turned to her, but her gaze was locked on the valley below. “I don’t think the barbarians will attack tonight.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about…” Connie grunted something else unintelligible and lowered the visor on his helmet to block out the last rays of sunlight.
Joe was intrigued enough to turn to Kayla and ask, “Why not?”
She tapped her helmet, and a dark green visor slid down to cover her angular face. “We’ve got these.” She tapped the side of the ballistic glass with a slender finger. “They don’t stand a chance against our technology.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Connie said softly, his amplified voice ringing through the ears of the whole squad.
“What’s that, Sarge?” Kayla shot back, her voice dripping with disdain as she shortened his official title. “You know they’re beat down. Probably hiding, slinking away.”
Joe thought he could make out a grin behind his sergeant’s face shield. He fully expected Connie’s normal reply about how women love to contradict.
“Don’t bet your life on it, sweetheart,” Connie growled instead. “Or mine.”
“Whatever,” Kayla replied. “It’s not like we’re gonna sit here like trainees.” She slowly twisted her head to reexamine the slope below them. “We are in hostile country after all.”
Joe shot a look over at Leisa and Laura, but they had already lowered their visors. With the sun sinking quickly, he would have to wait until morning to get another look at Leisa’s soft green eyes, if he got a chance. Connie was completely opposed to fraternization between the sexes, and Kayla kept a tight leash on the girls too.
Joe supposed it came with the territory. Or the chain of command, seeing how the Regulators had strict behavioral guidelines for mixed units. Laura seemed to find a way to get around rules. She wasn’t afraid to talk to the guys about pretty much anything, which led to constant looks of disapproval from Connie. Unlike Laura, Leisa apparently wanted nothing to do with any of the guys, not that Joe could bla
me her. He was trying his best to stay aloof as well.
Joe’s visor slid into place with the press of a button. That left only Danny’s face exposed to the humid environment. With a shrug in reply to curious, tilted helmets pointed his way, he left his open. “They need air conditioning in these things. I can’t sleep in it.”
“Then you can take first watch,” Connie bellowed. “But wear the dang visor.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny said. “Can we eat first?”
“Not ‘til you’re done digging in.” Multiple groans replied to the sergeant. He ignored them, and pulled a collapsible shovel from his pack. “I want one man to a hole, spread out from the big boulder back to here.” He planted his shovel in the hard ground with a gravel-scraping crunch.
“Great,” Pete whined. “When are we gonna find a better way to dig foxholes? I mean it’s every lousy night.”
“It’s a time honored tradition,” Connie said with a chuckle. “Our soldier brothers been doing it this way for centuries and it’s not gonna change.”
“Well, what about like robo-diggers or something?” Laura asked. “I mean, seriously.”
“So the ‘bots can replace you?” Kayla said. “Then you’ve got no job, no nothing.”
“Fine with me,” Pete replied.
Kayla ignored him. “They’re real close to it, you know.”
Joe knew that was true. He’d seen legions of robots working in the forward operating posts, and especially in the bigger bases, helping out with the heavy lifting and logistics. Some even cooked dinners. Not good food, but even the newest model androids couldn’t improve slop.
Machines had pretty much taken over civilian life too.
“That’s what happens when people exterminate each other,” Joe’s dad had told him. And that’s why teens, some as young as sixteen, were considered veteran soldiers, Joe thought grimly.
Besides, Joe knew the glorious Republic’s empire was stretched thin. Too many battles on too many fronts, from a few miles short of the Yula River and neighboring Kunuri to halfway across the ocean. They should’ve consolidated power and made peace, but as his dad also had said, “Peace isn’t for profit.”
