by Ashton, Josh
"Yes, sir."
"Have you ever fed on one of us? Have you killed a US soldier?"
She stared at the General and then in complete honesty answered the question.
"No, I've been killing the enemy."
Sighing, the general holstered the pistol. "Good, I'm glad that's settled. With the way things have been lately, I wonder what would have happened if I shot you."
"Excuse me, sir? What do you mean?"
"You've been out in the woods by yourself for a while, Captain. You're not the only one that has changed."
"Oh."
"Well, captain..."
"Amy, sir. Call me Amy. I don't really feel like a captain anymore after what I've become."
The General's eyes softened. "We've all changed because of this, just in different ways. Do you still want to be a part of this fight? You said you were killing the enemy."
"Yes, sir. I still want to help."
"Then you're still a soldier. You're still a captain until I say you're not. Is that understood?" The General's voice had that air of command and finality.
Amy felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her, and surprise set in. She had expected to be judged, but she hadn't. "Yes, sir."
"Well, Captain. I only have one request."
"What's that, sir?"
The general's voice was hard as the frozen earth and as cold as the Korean winter.
"Get back out there. Give into your lust. Kill them all. Kill as many as you want. Kill our enemies."
Captain Amy Reynolds's face turned a smile that was feral and vicious.
"Oh, I can definitely do that."
The general stood and the captain immediately stood with him.
"Good, just come back and report to me every now and then as I might have a special project or two for you. If you have any other questions, Sergeant Bencher can answer them. He's one of the ones I trust, and now so are you."
The general saluted and Amy returned it. For some reason feeling as a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The General dropped his salute and walked towards the bunker entrance. Just before he left, he turned and gave her one final farewell.
"Happy hunting, captain."
The Building
Chapter I
Play dead; keeping playing dead. That's all that matters. They're all around you. Play dead until the night. And then you can maybe escape to the south. Just play dead. Only as the dead will you survive.
All of it had gone to shit and unlike the rest of the troops on this god forsaken peninsula he had some idea of what had gone wrong. He knew when the power went off like God flicking a light switch, it was deliberate. The only thing it could have been was an EMP. This knowledge hadn't helped him a damn bit. Like every other American soldier in this place, he was stuck just trying to survive.
The North Koreans had been brilliant. They had first launched a massive attack across the DMZ. The captain was like everyone else; he had been sucked north reacting to the attack. It was during that massive push northwards that what he suspected was an EMP blanked out everything. He was ashamed to admit that discipline had fallen apart pretty quickly. Rank and military bearing are important but loyalties are imbedded deeper into units. The convoy had been a collection of soldiers from different commands. As soon as the vehicles went down every one scattered into groups heading in different directions trying to find their friends. Every single group had headed north.
The captain had been the highest ranking person in the convoy, but he was just a passenger. And given that he was just an Intelligence weenie to the combat arms guys that meant he was next to nothing. They hadn't understood. He tried to explain the effects of an EMP and what that meant to the technological juggernaut that was the U.S. Military. With the tech gone, the North Koreans had effectively leveled the playing field. Now the Americans would be outnumbered. The winter was coming and with skies empty of friendly aircraft, the North Koreans would roll south.
He had tried to keep them together, but they all had been from other units and had felt that they should get back to them. He couldn't blame them for that. A soldier's unit was his home, and in the harsh life of a soldier, your unit was the only home and family you had. The captain, a student of history, knew what was coming. The waves were coming. Left on his own, the captain had gone south. He knew that those that had gone north were only going there to die.
The waves had moved south quicker than he imagined. He was smart enough to know to avoid a town, but he needed food. He had been without a meal for almost two days. That wasn't much time to go without food, but he needed his strength if he was going to make it south. South had become a religion to him. He had to believe that somewhere to the south there would be friendly forces fighting and holding the line. He had to believe. If he didn't, it was all for not.
He had been stupid. He had been searching through empty houses in some unnamed city when he heard the North Koreans enter town. He had found an empty crawl space and holed up there to hide. Twice the slanties had searched the house in which he was hidden, but he had remained undiscovered. Lack of food and water finally forced him out of his hiding place. Knowing he would need his strength, he had ventured out in search for food.
His current hiding place had been what had distracted him from his search. He had thought the town was empty again. He had thought the quiet night would be enough protection. He was moving down one of the main streets of the town looking for a grocery store or something when the smell got his attention. The stench was horrific. Just a few yards away he came upon the dead. Stacked haphazardly on the side of the street was literally a pile of bodies.The enemy had not discriminated much. Bloody lifeless bodies of both American soldiers and Korean civilians lay like so many stacks of wood. The North Koreans were not wasting any time with prisoners of any kind.
He still couldn't believe that he hadn't heard or seen anything of the North Korean patrol. He hadn't heard a thing, but suddenly a group of North Koreans were walking down the street right towards him. The darkness gave him just a few seconds to make a decision. The Captain was left with only one option. He had flopped down next to wretched bodies and pulled a corpse right on top of himself.
For the entire night he had sat there waiting with the smell of stench and decay filling his nostrils. He mentally tried to crush all his senses. Don't look, don't smell, don't taste. Try not to breathe, just listen, listen and wait. This invasion was not an occupation in normal terms. This was the equivalent of holocaust. He had seen the North Koreans killing everyone; men, women and children. This was extermination.
The Captain figured the North Koreans were coming south to stay. And they didn't want any resistance. After the army killed everyone, 100 million half-starving North Koreans civilians would flow south to strip the land like a plague of locust. This war was not about power or energy... the usual reasons for the more modern conflicts. It was so much more basic. It was about food. And a starving man has nothing to lose.
He didn't know how many Koreans were in this part of the town now, but it seemed like a lot. As he was trapped under the bodies the Captain's mind had begun to wander. How had the Koreans gotten so far south so fast? It had to be those damn tunnels. For decades the North Koreans had dug and built a massive tunnel network under the DMZ. No one knew how extensive that network really was. But after seeing hundreds of troops this far south in just a matter of a few days, it was the only logical answer.
Whatever they were doing in this place, they sure made it seem like they were going to stay a while. Before he had ventured out onto the street from his first hiding place, he had seen hundreds of soldiers moving in and out of the main government building that was in the center of town.
An entire day he sat under those corpses. Every time he heard the odd tone of the Koreans, he prayed that they would not inspect the pile too closely. He tried to stay alert, but time and time again exhaustion over took him. In spite of adrenalin and danger, he found himself dosing occasiona
lly. He awoke startled after one of his unintentional naps. Darkness had arrived in full force.
Cracking his eyes, he slowly scanned the street. There was nothing. There was no sign of the Koreans. Then he heard movement. Crushing his eyes shut, the Captain again relaxed his body and played dead. He heard movement coming closer and closer. Then someone was right next to him. He could feel it. He held his breathe and waited. Then a voice startled him.
"Look at the poor bastards. They were just mowed down."
At hearing the English, the Captain opened his eyes. There kneeling right next to him, were two American soldiers. Dressed in full combat gear, the soldiers weren't really looking at him. Their eyes were focused outward scanning for enemies through the darkness.
It took the Captain awhile to work up the courage to speak, but finally he was able to croak a few words out of his parched throat.
"Can you guys help me."
He hadn't been thinking when he spoke but he likely just scared the living shit out of the two men. Startled they both spun, pointing their weapons at what they thought was a corpse.
"Holy shit."
"Jesus, you scared the hell out of us."
"What are you doing there?
The Captain's wit returned just a little as he shoved the body off himself and came up to kneel next to the two soldiers.
"What does it look like? Hiding for my life; I wasn't down here for fun."
"Who are you?"
The Captain obliged and gave his name and rank.
"Well, I'm Sergeant First Class Ford and this is Davies."
"Are you guys alone?"
"Not really we just came ahead to scout a way through here.
A spattering of fire came from down the street and a soldier came running up next to Ford.
"Sergeant, there is shit ton of slanties coming this way from three directions. We have to move."
"Damn." Ford scanned the street. "We're going to get pinned, if we don't move. All right. Let's hustle forward and pray we don't get stuck."
Ford's words seemed to condemn them.
Suddenly fire came roaring from up the street at the men huddled on the side of the main road. The Captain hadn't seen where Ford's men were stationed earlier. But muzzle flashes from rubble and corners announced the presence of Ford's platoon. Ford grabbed the Captain shoulder and yelled over the firing.
"Sir, how many NKs were huddled in that building?" Ford was pointing at the main government building that was across the square.
"Dunno. Wouldn't we be taking fire from it if there were?"
"Good point."
Ford ran back and started issuing orders to the men of the platoon. The Captain was amazed watching Ford dodge this way and that changing plans in the middle of a fire fight. Ford came running back to the Captain with an extra pistol in a holster over his shoulder and a rifle in his opposite hand. He slid up next to the Captain and shoved them in his hands.
"Here you're going to need this. We've been scrounging extras as we go from the dead. I would recommend you grab some stuff off the guys over there."
The Captain looked down to the pile of bodies. He started tugging armor and a harness off one of the bodies that looked to be about his size. After being so close to the dead, he had lost his squeamishness.
The fire from the Koreans was getting more intense.
"Shit, we're running out of time. Let's get the hell out of here. I hope this building thing works."
Ford started spouting out commands.
"First, First." He yelled over the fire. "Shift, shift fire."
A group of men in the platoon shifted positions and started shooting in all directions as fast as they could.
"Third, hit the building. Upper floors only."
Another squad obeyed the command and every window in the large cinderblock building became a target.
"OK, sir. You ready?" It was rhetorical question. Ford wasn't wasting any more time. "OK, Second, let's go."
Ford and his group were up and running and the Captain found himself following. Ford and his men did not hesitate. They slammed against a building. And as if the whole thing had been rehearsed a dozen times, windows were smashed, the front door was pulled open, and four grenades were tossed in. He was caught kind of standing there amazed at the coordination of the Ford's men. Still watching, Ford had to grab the Captain and pull him to the ground seconds before all the windows in the first floor were blown out.
Right after the explosion, the men flowed into the building. Ford dragged the officer with him. The area was a disaster, but there were no bodies. The place was empty. The men fanned out.
"Right, secure this floor. And let's get the other guys in here. They're probably getting lonely."
A few men guarded the stairwell. But the rest of the squad took up positions and started firing outwards from the building. Ford was completely brazen. He strolled out the front door and yelled across the square to the remainder of his men who were still cowering in the streets.
"Come on guys. Let's go. Everyone in here now."
Ford, like some god of war, stood in the open and used his own weapon to help cover his men as the rest of the platoon sprinted for the building. When the last of his guys were inside, Ford strolled back into the building like he was just coming home from a day at the office.
Again, he never stopped issuing orders.
"Right. Welcome home guys. Jones, Bibey, take your guys and go clear out the second and third floors." Two squads of men moved up the stairs. There was no firing. Ford meanwhile was working the room, repositioning his men to defend from every direction on the first floor. It was only a few minutes before a soldier came running back down. It was Jones.
"Hey, Sergeant, I think you better come upstairs and see this."
"What is it? I'm kind of busy."
"The Slanties left a bunch of shit upstairs. I think it's important."
"How do you know?"
"I know a bit of Korean."
"You never told me that."
"You never asked."
Ford looked at the Captain.
"You speak it, don't you?"
Before Ford could ask, the Captain started moving. At least he could be useful this way.
"Yep, I'll go look at it. Show me the way."
He followed Jones to the next floor. They were all lined up in the middle of the floor. There on the floor were a dozen bodies of North Korean soldiers. Each one had been shot cleanly through the forehead with one bullet. Stacked neatly on each body was a file.
"Help me out, Jones. Can you read this stuff?"
"Sure. One sec. Let me give some instructions to my guys."
While Jones was gone, he pulled open a folder. It seemed to be a dossier on the soldier's life and career. He pulled another and started reading. Jones came back quickly and imitated the Captain.
"Is that one a dossier too?"
"Yeah, seems like it."
Each file seemed to be a dossier on the life of each man, but labeled at the top of the dossier it said the same thing over and over. Gwishin. What the hell?, thought the Captain. Why would someone label all the dead mean as ghosts? Asians had very different views of ghosts, and they had so many different words to describe them. This word meant the spirit of the departed. Next to the bodies were several rows of tall filing cabinets. The Captain picked a drawer, ripped it open and started reading.
The firing outside started to increase and men at the windows on the second floor started firing. Over the firing, Jones yelled at the Captain.
"I have to go."
The Captain didn't stop his reading.
"Go. I'll finish this stuff up."
With a firefight raging around him, the Captain kept reading. And the more he read the more scared he became. He wasn't scared of the bullets zipping into the building or the explosions slamming against the walls. It was what he read. The Koreans had known something about the effects of EMPs. They somehow knew what would happen to humanity because
of those blasts.
Humanity was going change. Over and over the Koreans used the same word gwoemul. Gwoemul, "monster" in English. The monsters were coming.
Chapter II
Ford was yelling the same thing over and over.
"Cease Fire! Cease Fire!"
And at the same time he was waving his hand across his face palm facing outward. It was the signal for cease fire.
"Stop wasting ammo, dumb asses!"
Ford worked his way around the first floor to all of his men. Amazingly they had repulsed the first attack with no casualties. He was just about to head upstairs, when the Captain came rushing down from upstairs.
"Sergeant Ford, we have to talk."
"Still busy, sir.”
"I know, but this is important."
Ford sighed. Leave it an officer to not understand priorities.
"OK, just give me five. I have to make sure the upstairs is OK. Wait down here, will you?"
"Sure."
Ford went upstairs leaving the Captain standing on his own. All around him the guys on the first floor were piling up chairs and tables in the middle of the room. Seeing nothing else to do, the Captain started to help out. Grabbing an end of a table, he helped a soldier create a makeshift wall in the center of the first floor with it.
"What are you guys doing?” he asked.
"Since this whole first floor is just kind of open, Sergeant Ford thought it would be a good idea to kind of make a barricade over here by the stairwell."
The Captain wasn't about to argue with Ford, or the soldier for that matter. When it came to combat, he was out of his element. Because of all the grit and grim covering the soldier he couldn't see a name or rank.
"So, what's your name?" he asked, trying to be friendly.
"O'Neil, sir. Private O'Neil."
"Cool. I'm sure glad you guys showed up when you did."
