The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade

by Demers, J. D.

  “Forgive me,” General Bolduc apologized as he walked toward the exit. “We can meet after seventeen hundred hours to go over our plans. I have some matters to attend to. Jodi, Nate, if you would please take our guests back to their vehicles?”

  “Of course,” Jodi smiled.

  The General left and the Sheriff, along with the others, gathered up their weapons.

  “Good draw, Nomad,” Fish said as he approached Luke. “Didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

  “You’re a relic, Fish,” Luke chuckled. “I read you like a book.”

  “Hey,” Burghardt growled to Fish before he left. “You ever point a gun at me again, you best pull that trigger.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Fish grunted as Burghardt left the storage unit.

  Fish eyed the door a minute and then smiled at Luke.

  “Is he serious?”

  “You did point a gun at him,” Luke noted.

  “Yeah, but telling me to pull the trigger next time is just dumb,” Fish laughed.

  Luke turned serious.

  “Sergeant Burghardt is a good man. He’s been through a lot. He has a lot more responsibility than he signed up for. He’s a hard man, Fish. He’s had to make some…tough calls.”

  “He’s a cook,” Fish reminded Luke.

  “And I use to be a pizza delivery boy in high school,” Luke mocked. “Sometimes it takes something powerful and ugly to happen for someone’s true nature and abilities to surface. Burghardt is that man. He’s no slouch.”

  “I’ll give him the benefit of a doubt,” Fish sighed as he returned Campbell’s pistol.

  “Thanks,” Campbell smiled.

  “Not like you were going to use it, sir.”

  Campbell shrugged as he latched his holster.

  “Do you think the General will want to come with us?” Doctor Tripp asked as we filed out the door.

  Jodi stopped and turned.

  “Doubtful, Doctor,” she said with a frown.

  “He’s sick again, isn’t he?” I asked.

  Jodi nodded. “Best we can tell, he has a month…maybe two.”

  “Well that just sucks,” Fish grumbled. “Survive the apocalypse to be killed by cancer.”

  “The General is a tough old bird,” Luke said as we began our march back to the motor pool. “I think he sees this liberation of the Taylor family from the Bogdons as his last good deed to mankind.”

  “Well, if you gotta go out with a bang,” Fish said, “killing those bastards is the way to do it.”

  We proceeded through the storage center passing hopeful faces.

  “They know,” I whispered to Fish.

  “Word travels fast around here,” Luke pointed out.

  “Maybe they’ll start worshiping you, kid. You could have yourself a nice little cult,” Fish chuckled.

  “Damn, I hope not,” I grimaced.

  “So, Reaper, do you have a plan for going to Lake City?” Luke inquired.

  “Honestly, I make half of it up as I go along.”

  “Some things never change.”

  “No, they don’t,” I agreed.

  “So, shit digger,” Fish slapped Luke on the shoulder, “where do you fit in here? Sergeant of giving out flowers or what?”

  Luke laughed. “No. I really don’t have a command. I just advise General Bolduc, the Sheriff, and Sergeant Burghardt. They need guidance. I help train the locals, teach them basics. Stuff like that.”

  “Are Green Beret’s monks or something?” I said with a smile.

  “Kid, you have to know who Nomad is. It’s what he does.”

  I sighed. That really didn’t answer my question.

  We arrived at Big Red. Jodi and Sheriff Green left to take care of some of their duties. Luke stuck around to help formulate a plan for the next day’s raid to Lake city.

  I took a few moments to play with Boomer, give a kiss to Jenna, and get annoyed by Karina.

  Dobson, meanwhile, spent twenty minutes explaining to everyone what was going on. I think there was a general consensus of approval, at least when it came to the Bogdons. No one felt bad about that.

  Heading off to Lake City to gather supplies for the people at the storage center didn’t sit well with DJ. Unwarranted risk, as he put it, but he said he would go along. We decided on heading out at first light the following day.

  What really made everyone nervous was going through Scab Country. Twenty or thirty scabs was one thing, but where we were headed there were hundreds. Nonetheless, the focus was on our mission.

  “So, what’s the plan?” DJ asked after Dobson finished. “We drive Big Red into this ‘red zone’ and go shopping for these folks?”

  “I’m going to leave the details to Campbell and Fish,” Dobson said. “I’m not going. I will be staying here and setting up the HAM. I need to get into contact with Hoover Dam. We haven’t talked to them since we left.”

  “Good luck with that,” DJ grumbled. “Couldn’t raise Camp Holly. All I got was static.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Dobson reassured him. “HAMs are finicky.”

  “I know. Just frustrating.”

  Dobson gestured to Campbell. “Captain, it’s your show.”

  “Thanks, Major.”

  Dobson retreated with Doctor Tripp and Pittman into the CDC bus.

  “Glad he’s leaving it up to us,” DJ huffed. “That’s a piss poor excuse for him not to go.”

  “I think it’s a little more than that,” Campbell said. “We think we have an understanding with the General, but the Major wants to make sure no one changes their mind, or that there isn’t some power struggle we may have to contend with.” The Captain glanced at Luke. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Luke said. “I can understand that. I could say you have nothing to worry about, but I don’t think that would change your line of thinking.”

  Campbell exhaled, turning his attention to outlining the next day’s mission.

  “So, logistics. How many people and vehicles do we need?”

  Fish scratched his chin for a moment before he responded.

  “I would say we bring Big Red, their one working Stryker, and the F350. Personnel wise? Myself, you and DJ to lead each vehicle. Out of our group, include Christian, Enrique, Preacher, for his mechanical skills, Pittman, and Daniel.”

  “Dobson may have an issue with Christian going,” Campbell pointed out.

  “I’ll deal with the Major, sir,” Fish rejoined.

  Campbell nodded with a smile.

  “And from our group?” Luke asked.

  “You and Burghardt are a must,” Fish stated. “You, because I need that brain, and Burghardt because he knows the area. Might want to bring that little woman, too.”

  Luke looked concerned. “Why Jodi?”

  “Burghardt knows the area, I’m sure, but Jodi was working directly with the former CO. She probably has a better idea of where everything is.”

  Luke nodded. “Makes sense. How many more will you need besides them?”

  “Half a dozen or so. They need to still have meat on their bones, not someone who may pass out while driving back here. Couple of them should be decent shooters, but most should know how to drive a truck. Make it a total of nine from your compound.”

  “I do know how to do math,” Luke said snidely. “That’s seventeen total. Going to be cramped.”

  “Only on the way there,” Campbell noted.

  “Sounds good,” Luke said. “I’ll start weeding out who we’re going to bring.”

  Luke left while we all broke for lunch and discussed the plan further.

  Dobson was unable to reach Hoover Dam, but DJ did make contact with Camp Holly later in the afternoon. He told Rich Marino about some of the safety precautions that we saw at the storage center. While handcuffing people wasn’t necessary, Rich did agree that all doors should be secured and the sick would be quarantined until he cleared them for release.

  Fish evidently got the okay from Dobson for
me to go on the Lake City run. I’m not sure how the conversation went but, in the end, Dobson agreed.

  Time passed quickly and before we knew it, we were back inside General Bolduc’s storage unit, finalizing our plan.

  Burghardt and Campbell reviewed routes north toward the refugee camp, picking out alternates just in case we ran into a horde of zombies or any other surprises. Our drones would be scouting ahead, based out of the Stryker and controlled by Campbell.

  The crew from General Bolduc was chosen, comprising three women, including Jodi, and six men.

  “Are you sure you’re fine to go with them?” General Bolduc asked Jodi.

  “I’m not a snowflake, Norris. I’ll be fine. Besides, like they said, I have a good idea where everything is.”

  “I’ll be with her, General,” Burghardt assured him.

  General Bolduc rose. “So, you will be leaving at first light?” he asked Campbell.

  “Yes, sir,” Campbell replied as he gathered up the maps.

  “We have rations being—”

  “No need, General,” Dobson cut in. “We have some of our own. Depleting your supply would be counterproductive.”

  “Very well. I suggest everyone get some rest tonight.”

  The meeting broke and we went back to our vehicles. Deciding it was best not to stay in the storage unit, we set up our own perimeter within the motor pool.

  By sundown, most of our group had gone to bed for the night. Luke had stayed with us most of the day, and he, Jenna and I were sitting in the middle of our enclosure. Coleman had joined us. He was going with us on the supply run the following day.

  “So, what’s it like being immune?” Coleman asked.

  “That’s an odd question,” Luke laughed.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Coleman returned the laughter as did I. “Well, do you heal quicker since you got bit? Or have night vision?”

  “That’s just silly,” I said.

  “He’s being silly,” Luke winked.

  “Ah, okay.” I reached down and gave Boomer a pat as he laid down next to me. “I wish I could heal faster.”

  “God knows you’ve needed it,” Jenna giggled.

  I gave Jenna a light slap on the arm.

  “Love during the apocalypse,” Coleman said, raising his cup of water like it was a toast, “must be nice.”

  The word “love” had never been used between Jenna and me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Jenna didn’t, though. She rarely did.

  “Don’t be jealous,” she chided, “you’re bound to run into some single women tomorrow.”

  “Unfortunately, they’re all dating the Reaper now,” Coleman said sourly.

  The word Reaper made me wonder why Fish had earned that nickname. Deciding it was bad taste to just come out and ask Luke, I took another approach.

  “Why does Fish call you Nomad?” I asked Luke. “Do they give everyone in the Special Forces code names?”

  Luke grinned. “No, not really. Usually, we earn the names.”

  Jenna leaned forward. “How did you earn yours?”

  “Well, I’ve actually earned a few, but Nomad sounded best so most of the guys ran with it.”

  “So?” I persisted.

  “So…during my first deployment to Afghanistan, my team and I were out in the Ghazni Province for most of the six months. Mainly, we were going around helping villages, trying to build a good name for America. Occasionally we would run into some Taliban but, for the most part, it was quiet. I took a special interest in helping the locals out. Helped build aqueducts, better housing, bridges, you name it. One particular town was pretty bad off. When the team left, I stayed behind to finish up. Five weeks later, I rejoined them.”

  “You were helping that town out for five weeks?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “So, you were AWOL,” Coleman said accusingly.

  Luke chuckled.

  “No, not that either. I stayed in contact with Command. But while my team went back to base, I got the go ahead to keep on with our mission. So, I traversed the country alone, helping people out when I could.”

  “So, they called you Nomad,” I said, understanding.

  “Pretty much. Some called me shit-digger too, but I try to forget that.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I heard Fish call you that a couple of times. Why?”

  “My team met back up with me in Wardak. When they got there, I was working on a septic tank for a group of locals who had lost everything in a Taliban raid. I was literally digging the hole for the crapper when they found me.”

  “So, you were digging a hole for their shitter?” Coleman laughed. “What the hell type of training are you Green Beret’s getting? No wonder why everyone says the S.E.A.L.s are the top.”

  Luke grinned mockingly. “Our training is different than theirs. They train to swim, retrieve, and gather intel. Our scope is…broader.”

  “And you’re trained to make bridges and latrines,” Coleman shook his head, still laughing.

  Luke’s smile faded. His eyes became lost for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Luke glanced at the dirt for a moment.

  “I did a lot of things over there. Spent seven tours in the sand.”

  He looked up at me. His eyes reminded me of Fish and my old roommate, Dave. They were the eyes that had seen too much.

  “Out of everything I’ve done…everything I’ve seen,” he went on, “building that septic tank, I think, was my greatest achievement.”

  In that moment, I finally got a grip on who Luke really was. He was the man who wanted to do the right thing. He was here at this storage compound to help these people. He could be out surviving on his own like Fish had originally planned to do. But he chose to help because he knew he could and they needed him.

  De Oppresso Liber.

  Fish’s quote echoed in my mind. Liberate the Oppressed.

  There was an awkward silence, which Jenna and Coleman respected.

  “But, that was then. Now look where we’re at,” Luke finally said after a few moments.

  I inhaled and asked Luke what I had been wanting to ask the whole conversation.

  “Luke, why do you call Fish Reaper?”

  Luke sighed and sat back in his chair.

  “Not my place to tell that story.”

  “You have to know how Fish is,” I said with a fake smile, “I can’t ask him.”

  “Come on, Mr. Nomad, tell us the story of ‘The Reaper!’,” Jenna said sarcastically.

  Luke hesitated, and then relented.

  “Fish is of a different breed than I am. He’s old school, you know? Indoctrinated in the 90’s, before it was cool to be an Operator. Before the books, the wars, the movies. They lived up to the name Quiet Professionals. There was no glory except personal satisfaction. He was out there when people didn’t even know there was an ‘out there’.”

  “Reaper was kind of a legend. He was in 5th Special Forces Group when the planes hit the towers. Think of them like S.E.A.L. Team Six. The best of the best. They spear headed Task Force Dagger, the mission that toppled the Taliban. The media didn’t talk about it much, but just under a hundred Operators toppled the Taliban before any other soldier or Marine put their boots in the sand. They didn’t do it alone, of course. They did what we do and got the locals to do most of the fighting for them. It was the kind of job the Special Forces were designed for, and they executed it decisively. Word is Reaper rode a horse alongside the Northern Alliance into combat. Crazy son of a bitch.”

  Luke took a drink of water before continuing.

  “Okay, so as rumor has it, Fish was sent to Rwanda in ’94. One of the worst modern genocides of our time was taking place. Revolutionaries were slaughtering people village by village. They estimated the total deaths to be over a million. Anyway, we had some US nationals, mostly missionaries, in country. Fish was already in country and was called on to provide support. Go in, locate the mission, gather Intel from locals on nearby threats,
and provide support for S.E.A.L. teams during extraction.”

  He paused and pointed at us.

  “Now, before I continue, remember, this is just rumor.”

  We all nodded, grabbed by the story.

  “Fish got to some hilltop overlooking the mission and a small village. He found out that he was too late. Revolutionaries were in the camp, killing at their leisure. He found the four missionaries. They had been executed and were lying near the middle of the village. Fish reported in and Command told him the OP was scrubbed. He was ordered to vacate to his extraction point.”

  “They said he radioed back a couple of times, requesting permission to engage. Each time he was denied. It wasn’t our war. His next transmission was the last one he would give for two days. He called Command and said he was under fire.”

  “Without any intelligence on the current situation, there was little Command could do. They put their feelers out, looking for signs of him. Hacked into radio transmissions, stuff like that.”

  “Two days later he made contact again. Told Command he had been under constant pursuit and had only then been able to make it to the extraction point.”

  “I don’t get it,” Coleman shook his head. “How did he get the name Reaper from that?”

  “Tell them the rest,” a gruff voice called from the shadows. Fish stepped into the light. His face, though expressionless, radiated with anger.

  “Fish?” I said, but he ignored me.

  “Tell them, Nomad!” he hissed.

  Luke hesitated and then drew in a deep breath.

  “Intel reports said that an entire revolutionary squad in that vicinity was slaughtered. Twenty-six soldiers. Fish was credited for every kill.”

  Luke locked eyes with Fish.

  “That’s not the whole story, though, is it?” Nomad asked slowly.

  “No. The whole story was filed away in some classified locker and dropped into the sea.”

  Fish walked over and took a seat. Luke, surprisingly, cowered back.

  “You guys wanna know the rest of the story?” Fish asked sharply. “I would think after the shit storm that has hit civilization, you brownies could handle it.”