by Lundy, W. J.
“Get that gun up!” a soldier yelled from down the line.
Murphy looked over at Jacob and jumped to the weapon, knocking Jacob out of the way. He pulled the handle back and lifted the tray cover. “What the fuck? Links on top!” He flipped the belt, fixed the mis-feed, and slammed the tray closed. “Fire!”
Jacob leaned back behind the weapon and squeezed the trigger; the mob had closed to within fifty feet while he was screwing with the gun. He strafed the area to his front, moving left to right and felt the impact as the mob closed and slammed against the HESCO barrier below. They screamed while trying to climb the barriers to get at the men above.
“Frag out,” a soldier yelled, dropping a grenade over the wall, the blast thumping the bunker. More grenades dropped over the side and Jacob saw that an entire case of them was at his feet, the cardboard tubes discarded all over the floor. Jacob continued to fire as Murphy lobbed grenades. He lost his breath and felt fire in his ribs as he was knocked to the bunker floor. Murphy ignored him and jumped on the M240, getting the gun back in action.
Jacob bit the fingers of his glove to remove it and slipped his hand into the front of his vest, wincing with pain. Expecting blood, he pulled out his hand and found it dry. He slapped the front of his tactical vest and found the hole where the round slapped against the plate. Jacob tried to stand but stopped to look at the roof of the museum—it was empty; there was no movement. Searching the museum grounds behind them, he saw the soldiers were pulling back and running toward boats waiting in the harbor.
“Everyone is leaving,” Jacob said, not being heard over the gunfire.
He rolled to a knee, pulling himself up the wall next to Murphy who was frantically working the machine gun, trying to push back the overwhelming mass hoarded around the tower.
“They’re leaving us!” Jacob yelled.
“Get on your weapon!” Murphy screamed, grabbing Jacob by the arm and shoving him toward the firing ports. He stumbled forward, hitting the bag wall and looked down into the faces of the screaming mass. Jacob stepped back and again felt Murphy’s shove. “If you ever want to get out of here, kill them!” he ordered.
Jacob raised his rifle up over the edge and fired at a steep angle down into the mass. No need to aim; they were so close and pressed together that every shot was a hit. The soldier on the radio lifted his head to yell down both sides of the bunker. “I have two birds inbound! Danger close!”
Jacob dropped his magazine, reloaded, and leaned back over the wall, firing at the black eyes of the mob. Rounds penetrated the bags to his left and front.
“Willy Pete out!” Sergeant Cass yelled.
Jacob watched as Cass tossed a grenade into the crowd; it popped and threw white-hot burning shards that ignited clothing and billowed clouds of acrid smoke that blocked the view of the enemy shooters.
A roar ripped through the sky as two long-winged aircraft cut overhead then peeled off, heading north on Michigan Avenue, doing a flyby over Soldier Field.
“Those are our A10s! Here they come!” the radio operator cheered.
The Warthogs looped back around and lined up for a run. The sky roared with the thunder of the planes’ cannons firing rounds that exploded and ripped the earth apart. The sound echoed across the park like the ground was being unzipped as a line of destruction was painted to within fifty meters of the bunker, erasing everything in its path. Jacob was lifted off his feet and tossed to the back wall with the rumble of the earth.
The operator yelled down the bunker, “They are coming in hot with Mark 84s—danger close! Danger close! Get your heads down!”
The A10s cut away and climbed for altitude then dove in, releasing their bombs. The sky flashed white and the earth rolled up like God shaking out a carpet; sandbags buckled and collapsed back onto the parking lot below. Jacob felt the floor give as the shockwave pushed the bunker off the HESCOs. He pulled his arms in and curled into a ball when fragments and bodies fell all around him as they tumbled in a waterfall of wreckage. Jacob landed on his belly, debris covering his back; he crawled away from the bunker and rolled into the street. His ears ringing and his nose bleeding, he coughed dirt and gagged because his mouth was too dry with suet and dust to be able swallow.
Jacob saw a rifle next to him; he grabbed it and used it to push himself up. He then struggled to his feet and staggered ahead, only getting a few steps before falling against a bullet-riddled car. With his left hand, he opened his tactical vest, wincing at what felt like a thousand broken ribs. He turned and sat on the hood of the car, every breath bringing spasms of pain. Fires burned all around him and, having collapsed, the bunker was gone. Nothing moved, and he could find none of his squad.
He stumbled forward only to trip over a man’s legs. Jacob hit the ground with a painful thud but quickly climbed back to a knee as he felt the man’s hand grab his ankle. Jacob looked back into the creature’s black eyes flaring with hatred. Jacob gripped his rifle and thrust, hitting it in the face. The thing’s head snapped back, and then it reared forward to grab at Jacob’s feet again. Gasping, Jacob fell to his knees and rolled to the side. Grabbing a broken piece of concrete and swinging, he bashed it in the face. Jacob felt the skull crush his own fingers between bone and stone as the oily blood splattered on his face.
He turned again and fell to his belly. Taking shallow breaths, trying to avoid the pain his ribs, Jacob crawled back toward the bunker. He pulled himself back to his feet using a post and, one loose step at a time, Jacob made it back to the fighting position. An arm moved from under the debris. Jacob grabbed the hand, tugged, and got a yelp in response. When he dug away the bags and dirt, he found the twisted face of Murphy. Jacob dug him out further and grabbed the collar of his armor, dragging him clear of the rubble. Murphy moaned and pushed him off before reaching down to open his body armor and shrug out of it. He reached into a pouch on his chest and fumbled with what looked like a small flashlight. He pressed a switch and stuck it into Jacob’s hand.
“It’s a strobe; get it someplace high!” he mumbled.
“Okay,” Jacob said and nodded. Turning back, he stumbled ahead to a long strand of rope tied to a barrier. Jacob cut the rope free and knotted one end to the strobe. He moved to a burnt, leafless tree and grabbed a branch. Pulling himself up, he climbed until he was as high as he could get, then secured the strobe to a branch. Jacob dropped back to the ground and staggered to the bunker. He could see the things were moving again—not focused on his location, but milling about.
Helicopters flew far off over the city and he could hear the sound of boats in the harbor. Jacob moved back to Murphy’s side and dropped in beside him. As the things moved in closer, he readied his rifle for a final fight.
“Don’t… it’ll make it worse… leave me; get to the water,” Murphy said in slurred words, bloody foam gathering at the corners of his lips.
Feeling strangely calm, ready to accept his fate, Jacob shook his head and pulled Murphy to his lap. He watched a flashing light high in the skyline make an abrupt turn; it moved around before it angled toward them, coming swiftly in their direction. Jacob pulled Murphy’s vest with the reflective tape on the back over to face them and set it on his friend’s lap. He cupped Murphy’s head with his left hand, feeling his friend’s labored breathing. Jacob was tired; he just wanted to rest. He watched the slow-moving flashing light draw closer.
“Hold on, Murphy; they’re coming,” Jacob said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Daddy!” a young girl yelled, waking him. He saw her running, her feet slapping the polished tile floor.
Katy easily scaled the hospital bed and thumped onto Jacob’s chest to embrace him. Jacob winced and smiled at the same time, hugging her with both arms while a tear formed in his eye. Laura came next, reaching down and locking them both in tight hugs. Jacob grunted and struggled to sit. A nurse in camouflage scrubs scrambled around the bed.
“No, you don’t, Mr. Anderson. We worked too hard to keep that lung from collaps
ing; I’ll let the hugs slide, but that’s it,” she barked.
“Lung?” Jacob said, finding his breath.
“You had significant internal injuries; you need to rest,” she said while scribbling on his chart. “Not too long, okay, hun?” the nurse said to Laura as she left the room.
Jacob looked around, confused by the surroundings. “Where are we, is this Chicago?”
“No, Jacob. We’re in Canada,” Laura said. “In a military hospital.”
“Canada… how? I don’t understand… how did I get here?”
“They found you unconscious and they brought you here. Your friend, the soldier, helped to find us in the camps and had us brought here while you were still in surgery.”
Jacob’s eyes widened with recognition. “Sergeant Murphy? He’s here?”
“No, his name wasn’t Murphy. It was Corporal Stephens,” she said. “The Canadians took us in, Jacob. The camps were horrible; they had nothing—no water, no food, and there were so many people there. I thought we would never—”
“Why were you in Canada?”
“The Canadian Army is holding them off and trying to keep them at the borders.”
Jacob grew frustrated with so many thoughts filling his head at once. “Where is the man I was with?”
“I don’t know; you were alone when I got here.” Laura shook her head. “Jacob, we’re lucky to be here.”
He tried to speak and began coughing; he felt the pain in his ribs as he concentrated on breathing.
Laura frowned and poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher. She passed it to Jacob who took it and drank thirstily. “The doctor says you need to rest,” she said, helping him sip from the glass.
A knock at the open door turned their heads. A tall black man in a green hospital robe and pushing an IV cart looked in, grinning.
“Damn man, still on your ass… oops, sorry. Pardon my language, ma’am,” Stephens said, catching himself. “I didn’t see the little one all cuddled up with her daddy there.”
Laura smiled at him.
Jacob laughed painfully. “Good to see you… Is Murphy here too?” he asked.
“Jacob… Murphy didn’t make it,” Stephens said, walking to a chair in the corner of the room and sitting heavily.
Jacob’s jaw dropped as he lay back in the bed, feeling his body become numb with shock. Katy crawled higher on him and laid her head against his chest. He lifted his hand and stroked her hair, fighting back tears while not knowing why he was so upset over a man he barely knew.
Laura grabbed his hand and whispered, “Who was he?”
“He was my friend,” Jacob said with shock in his voice.
Stephens looked at him sympathetically. “Man… I’m sorry, Jacob; I thought you knew.” Stephens turned to Laura. “Ma’am, I hate to ask this right now, but could we have a moment? I promise I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“I can appreciate that, Corporal Stephens, but we—”
Jacob put up a hand. “It’s okay, Laura; it’ll just be a minute,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Laura shot Stephens an exaggerated cold stare before she leaned over to kiss Jacob. “Come on, Katy. Let’s see if they are serving lunch yet.” She retrieved Katy and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Jacob pressed a button, raising the back of the bed so that he was nearly upright. He grunted trying to adjust his pillow. “What is it?
Stephens pulled his chair close. “Bro, when I saw you come off that Medevac, Murphy was with you. They tried to save him, but it was just too much.”
Jacob chewed his lower lip, not speaking. Stephens looked at the door and sat back in the chair. “I told the doctors about your family; they used the Red Cross to locate them and get ’em here.”
Jacob forced a smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“But that’s the thing. This is a military hospital. I told them you were part of Second Squad, Jacob. It was the only way I could get them here to you.’
“You what?”
“Our forces are so jacked up right now, they don’t know up from down. They didn’t question it. I just had to lie, man. I didn’t want your family out there in one of those camps when you woke up.”
“Is your family here too?”
Stephens looked away then back at Jacob. “I don’t know where they are. Last word I got, they were moving them south some place toward Atlanta, maybe Fort Benning. I don’t know. Contact’s been cut.”
“I’m sorry, Stephens,” Jacob said just above a whisper.
Stephens shook it off. “Don’t be sorry, bro. I know they’re okay; I can feel it. Listen, Jacob, we need to talk, man; everything is gone now. We got pushed back across the border and refugees are pouring across faster than the Canuks can find room for them. The United States south of Milwaukee is lost and The Darkness is spreading down into Central and South America. They thrive in warm weather. Europe is the same way; cold areas are stable while they move and spread south.
“Those ponds we found? They use them to breed and multiply. Most of the dumb ones stay close to their little birthing ponds, but the stage three types… hell, they’ve been spotted way far north.”
“Stage three?” Jacob asked.
“That’s what they’re calling the smart ones, the ones that shoot back. The fully evolved ones.”
Jacob nodded his head, remembering the briefing about the lizard men.
“So, what’s next?” Jacob asked. “Where do we go from here?”
“That’s why I needed to talk to you. I got your family in here, but for them to stay, you’re gonna have to enlist—and I mean for real. This base is only for military families. I listed you as a private with Second Squad. I don’t know if that’s gonna last or not. You better hope it does, ’cause if it don’t, they gonna send your wife and daughter out to the camps. You too probably, once you get healed up enough to walk. There just isn’t room on base for everyone.”
“I can’t leave them again,” Jacob said.
“It’s going to happen. You need to heal up and go back with us if you want to keep them safe. The generals say we won’t last two winters if we can’t push them out; we can’t survive this far north. We’ll all starve.”
“So, I have a choice of leaving my family to go fight, or leave with my family for these camps?”
Stephens shook his head, frowning. “The choice is yours, Jacob.”
The Shadows
BOOK II
Global Joint Base Meaford
Day of the Darkness Plus 90
The gas furnace roared to life, the blower whining as it forced warm air through the ducts running along the ceiling of the old wooden barracks. Heavy beams and thick wooden walls reminiscent of Bavarian craftsmanship, the buildings were rumored to have been constructed by German prisoners at the end of World War II. Solid and well-built, they stood the test of time by housing training armies for generations.
Jacob lay motionless, listening to the sounds of men snoring over the rumble of the furnace blowers. Light spilled into the open bay barracks from a row of windows high on the wall. He stared at the bottom of the bunk above him, where he'd tucked a small wallet photo into the mattress springs. Laura and Katy in happier times, sitting on a beach near Chicago, Lake Michigan glistening in the sun behind them. He knew they were safe on the other side of the camp. He knew to keep them there that he would have to persevere. He was a soldier whether he like it or not.
South America went dark soon after the first attacks; no word from anyone south of Mexico City by the second week. The Darkness thrived once it was introduced into the damp, warm climates. They grew the fastest in the jungles of Honduras and Nicaragua, spreading through the rivers and wetlands. Once stabled and the countries decimated, the creatures turned and charged north with little resistance. Unable to contain the advance, many of the border states became victim of carpet-bombing by both the US and Mexican Governments. Jacob heard the rumors of nuclear strikes
around the globe. At first, they were whispered as being used to end the crisis, but after the bombs fell with poor results, the talk of their use was hushed.
Jacob’s family was spared the worst, finding sanctuary in a small military base north-west of Detroit just over the northern border in the safe zone. Safely across the border, they were hinged on the front lines of the conflict. But Jacob’s sanctuary came with a price; nobody got a free ride. Laura would soon be assigned work supporting the camp, and Jacob would be tasked to augment the defense forces.
He thought he’d seen enough already in the war to know what to expect from his training. Jacob volunteered for service and as soon as his wounds healed, he was placed into the next training cycle. An Army recruiting sergeant in dress uniform stopped by his small housing unit to help with the paperwork—a two-page contract and a small government agreement stating that his family would be allowed to stay on the camp in exchange for his service.
The second form was a sort of insurance policy. Laura and Katy would be allowed six months free time on the camp in the event of his death; after that, there were no guarantees but they could stay on a “space available” basis. If he failed training or quit, they would be expected to report to the refugee camps immediately.
There were no negotiations, no concessions. The lines to join the military stretched from the main base’s gate and into the refugee camps. Training slots were scarce and Jacob had only managed to get in based on the help of his friend Stephens. Even though he didn’t see him often, the soldier made his presence known to Jacob and his family in other ways; sending care packages and additional rations when he could. Sometimes it was just a friendly note, or reassurances on the progress of the fighting outside the gates.
