The End - a Post Apocalyptic Novel

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Go get me some fresh bandages!” Nelson commanded.

  “Where?” Jimmy asked.

  “Just go into the kitchen and get me a clean towel, don’t grab the ones on the counter.”

  Jimmy rushed off.

  “It’s going to be okay, my friend,” Nelson said to Gordon.

  Nelson rolled Gordon over onto his side to see if the bullet had exited. He was pleased to find that it had.

  Needing to thoroughly examine Gordon, Nelson ordered the two men to help him strip Gordon of his boots and other clothing.

  Fortunately, Nelson located all the wounds. The wound in his chest looked bad but the main issue was the blood loss and potential infection. They could handle the infection with antibiotics, but if he needed blood he would have to find out if someone had Gordon’s blood type.

  “Jimmy, do you know Gordon’s blood type?”

  “No,” Jimmy answered.

  “Here’s the situation, I think these wounds can be mended but Gordon needs blood. We obviously don’t have any in our supplies but we can give him some when we find someone who is a match. We need to do this quickly.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Jimmy asked.

  “I need you to go find Samantha.”

  “Okay, I’m gone,” Jimmy said and raced off.

  “You two are like sticks in the mud. I need one of you to go to the clinic and get some antibiotics, bandages, tape, gloves, just bring me a trauma kit.”

  “I’d go but I don’t know where the clinic is located,” one of the men answered.

  “Who are you anyway?”

  “I’m Sergeant Holloway and this is Lance Corporal Fowler, we rescued your men.”

  “I’m Nelson, now whoever is going to make the run, here is how you get to our clinic. Exit the front door, turn right and go to Calle Cristo, turn left and on the right is our large clubhouse or was our clubhouse. The house two doors down is our clinic. Just tell the guard that I sent you and that the meds and bandages are for Gordon.”

  “Okay,” Sgt. Holloway answered. “Lance Corporal Fowler, stay here and do whatever the man asks.” Fowler nodded and replied, “Yes sergeant.”

  Holloway took off at top speed.

  “What can I do?” Fowler asked.

  “You can help by telling me what happened.” Nelson said.

  “We were on patrol to the west when we heard the gunfire. We have been in the area doing reconnaissance on the Villista Cartel.”

  “Cartel?” Nelson asked.

  “Yes, sir, that is what we’re calling them. They are an offshoot of the Tijuana Cartel that has now crossed over and is operating in San Diego County. We believe they are using the name Villista to help draw support from the local Hispanic community.”

  “What’s up with the name Villista, by the way?” Nelson asked, while he wiped the blood off of Gordon.

  “Sir, it-”

  Looking up Nelson said, “Hey, Marine, no need to call me sir, okay?”

  “Ah, okay. Sorry, just trying to be respectful, doctor.”

  “By the way, I’m not a doctor; I’m a paramedic; that’s all.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  “So, Villista?”

  “Yes, the Villista name comes from the early 20th century, when Pancho Villa and his revolutionary guard were at war with the United States. We believe that the Tijuana Cartel is taking advantage of the situation and attempting to secure a foothold here.”

  “So how did you happen upon Gordon and Jimmy?”

  “We heard the gunfight from about a click away. When we arrived, we saw your friend here get shot in the chest and fall. We opened fire on the Villistas with our .50 cal. We took most of them out. Then out of nowhere came the man who was just here and he told us we needed to help his friend here.”

  “So you saw no one else?”

  “We saw another one of your guys and he was dead, I don’t know who he was.”

  Just then, Gordon started to move his head back and forth. Gordon briefly opened his eyes but just as quick as he opened them they were closed.

  “Hey buddy. You’re going to be okay,” Nelson calmly said to him.

  Gordon just nodded slowly and attempted to say something but his voice was unintelligible.

  “You have nothing to worry about, I haven’t started drinking yet,” Nelson said with a grin. Nelson’s humor and cool temperament were always available, no matter the situation.

  The front door burst open, Samantha came running in. Seeing Nelson in the dining room standing over Gordon, she wasted no time and ran to him.

  “Oh my God!” she said, grabbing Gordon’s hand.

  Gordon opened his eyes and looked at her.

  She leaned over and kissed him several times on his face.

  “Oh baby, what happened?” she said caressing his face.

  He kept looking at her but the fatigue from the loss of blood made it difficult to stay conscious. His eyes closed again as he slipped back into the darkness.

  Nelson interrupted and asked, “Samantha, what is Gordon’s blood type?”

  “Ah, what?” she responded with a question. Her focus was on Gordon.

  “What is Gordon’s blood type?” he asked again.

  “Oh, ah; he’s B positive.”

  “Great, thank you.”

  Pulling Jimmy aside, he explained the situation. Nelson needed Jimmy to literally go door to door to find someone who had either B positive or O negative blood. There was no time to waste, as the blood loss would eventually kill Gordon.

  Jimmy took off.

  “Will he make it?” Samantha asked, turning to Nelson.

  “Samantha, you’ve known me for a long time and you know I don’t bullshit around when it come to things like this. I feel that he will make it but our window is closing. He’s lost a lot of blood and if we don’t get him some, he will die. Jimmy is out finding someone who is a compatible donor now.”

  Samantha was a very emotional woman, and typically something like this would have caused her to start crying but she needed to be strong. She looked Nelson right in the eyes and told him, “Do what you have to, do not let my husband die. Do you hear me? Do whatever you need to.”

  “I will Samantha, I promise you; I will.”

  DECEMBER 25, 2014

  “Man is the cruelest animal.”

  – Friedrich Nietzsche

  USS Makin Island, Pacific Ocean

  “Call General Quarters!” Barone yelled as he heard the news that the USS New Orleans was no longer under his control.

  “What do we know, I need information people!” he barked on the bridge of the ship.

  He grabbed a set of binoculars and looked at the USS New Orleans. The ship had slowed down and started to pull away from them, headed in a southerly direction.

  “Get whoever is in charge over there on the radio now!” Barone yelled.

  “Sir, we have someone,” the communications Petty Officer said.

  Barone walked over to a handheld and picked it up.

  “This is Lieutenant Colonel Barone, commander of the 2nd Battalion 4th Marine Regiment, who is this?”

  “Colonel Barone, this is Captain Newsom, the commanding officer of the USS New Orleans. I have retaken my ship.”

  Barone’s anger welled up inside him. He wanted to yell at the captain but he needed to remain calm and think critically.

  “Captain, what have you done with my men?”

  “Sir your men are all being held in their berthing areas under arrest for treason and mutiny.”

  “I don’t want trouble, Captain Newsom; all I want are my men.”

  “Colonel Barone, that is not going to happen. We are heading toward Hawaii, there your men will be dropped off and be held accountable for the acts they have committed against the United States. I only wish that you could be brought to justice with them.”

  “Captain Newsom, all we wish to do is go home and protect our families. So I am asking you as an officer and a gentleman, let my men go.
We can have them transported over to the Makin Island or other ships under my command in exchange for men we have.”

  “That will not happen colonel.”

  “Listen captain, I don’t have time for your bullshit hero stuff. If my men are not turned over to me, we will attack your ship.”

  “What will that get you, colonel? If you destroy the New Orleans your men will die.”

  “Do I look like a man that will bluff, captain? You are talking to someone who has seized a United States naval amphib group and attacked a U.S. military installation. I mean what I say. Now you have 15 minutes to get back to me or I will launch my Harriers,” Barone slammed the receiver down.

  Barone looked around; all eyes were fixed on him with anticipation of his next command.

  “Mr. Montgomery!” Barone barked.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Prepare our jump jets for an attack on the USS New Orleans.”

  ****

  “What I hate the most is being locked up during GQ. I mean what if the ship gets hit with a missile or something? We’ll drown down here,” Tomlinson said lying in his bunk.

  “I have to agree with you. It always makes me a bit nervous, too,” Sebastian replied.

  “What do you think is going on now?” Tomlinson asked.

  “God knows, the whole fucking world is turned upside down. This doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  The berthing area hatch opened up. A Marine officer stepped in and walked over to Gunny Smith.

  “So do you-”

  “Sssh.”

  “Huh?”

  “Shut up!” Sebastian snapped at Tomlinson. He was trying to overhear Gunny’s conversation.

  “Corporal Van Zandt, get over here,” Gunny yelled.

  “Yes, Gunny,” Sebastian shot up out of the bunk and walked quickly over to Gunny.

  “Sgt. Jennings, you too,” Gunny said.

  Jennings was new to the unit; he had transferred over from the 1st Battalion 1st Marine Regiment when Sebastian’s unit came on board. He was tall, lean and when he spoke there was no mistaking that he hailed from the Deep South.

  “I need you two to get your sniper teams in place. We need one team on the starboard and the other on the port side. We need you to assist in watching over the boats that are transporting Marines from the New Orleans.”

  “What’s going on, Gunny?” Sebastian asked.

  “Apparently we lost the USS New Orleans; the captain of the ship was able to retake it. Men loyal to the colonel are being transported here in exchange for those who don’t want to be here. You both will just be another set of eyeballs out there. If you see anyone who wishes us harm and have a shot, take it.”

  Sebastian thought that God was playing a trick on him. This was exactly the opposite situation he wanted to be in.

  “Grab your spotters, gear and get your ass topside,” Gunny commanded.

  “Yes, Gunny,” both Sebastian and Jennings said.

  When Sebastian and Tomlinson made it topside they were welcomed by the noise of Harrier jets taking off. They quickly proceeded to their position and set up next to the flight deck. Sebastian looked through his scope and he could see the USS New Orleans and estimated it was a mile away. He could barely make out people on the deck, but he could see the aft ramp was down. Assault amphibious vehicles were in the water heading their way. He kept peering through the scope and spotted two LCAC hovercrafts also heading their way. The plume of water put out from the hovercrafts made it easier to spot them versus the AAVs.

  An hour had gone by and the operation to remove all those loyal to Barone from the New Orleans was going smoothly. The Harriers were making runs past the New Orleans in a show of force and the LCACS and Amtracs were going back and forth between the two ships. Sebastian thought to himself that it would be nice to go without any incident today.

  “How long do you think this is going to take?” Tomlinson asked.

  “As long as it will take, T.”

  Just then, gunfire broke out below them.

  “What the hell?” Tomlinson asked out loud.

  They both stood up and tried to look down from their position back into the ship’s well deck. Whatever was happening had taken place inside the belly of the ship. The gunfire lasted only 20 seconds before it was silenced, the short-lived silence was broken by the sound of General Quarters. Sebastian and Tomlinson were trying to see something but their position prohibited a good view back into the ship. Within moments following the call to General Quarters, a blast shook the ship behind them. Sebastian turned around and saw smoke coming from a hatch on the super structure of the ship. More gunfire broke out but they could not identify its location before it stopped as quickly as it had started.

  “What do we do?” Tomlinson asked.

  “Just hold tight, if we can get any shots, we’ll take them.”

  They could hear the rapid gunfire of the Phalanx anti-ship missile system followed by an explosion just off the port side of the ship.

  “Oh my God, they shot a missile at us!” Tomlinson screamed.

  Sebastian didn’t respond. He was whipping his head around trying to see if anything was coming his way or if he had a target he could shoot.

  The Harriers that had been making runs past the New Orleans had pulled away from the ship and were flying above it in the clouds. Sebastian could hear them but not see them. Then, without notice, a missile was launched from the New Orleans, it went straight up. Both he and Tomlinson watched it travel into the clouds and out of sight. The seconds that passed seemed like forever, but an explosion echoed across the wide open ocean. Debris rained down from the clouds into the vastness of the water below.

  The rapid fire of the Phalanx from the New Orleans then sounded. It was attempting to knock missiles from the Harriers out of the sky. Fortunately for the New Orleans, their Phalanx did its intended job and destroyed the incoming missiles.

  “Can you believe this?” Tomlinson asked.

  “Yes, I can. This is what I was talking about,” Sebastian now was getting upset again.

  As they were watching the fighting near the New Orleans they had all but forgotten the fighting on their ship. It had been quiet for minutes now.

  Another missile launched from the New Orleans with a similar trajectory as before. It disappeared into the clouds but this time no explosion followed its potentially lethal flight.

  Barone’s Harriers responded with another volley of missiles but the New Orleans’ Phalanx destroyed them.

  Moments had passed with no missile exchange when an explosion like nothing they had heard yet echoed from across the ocean. They both turned their attention to the New Orleans and saw that the ship had been hit on the starboard side.

  “Oh my God, did one of the jets finally hit it?” Tomlinson yelled out.

  Another explosion followed on the same side as the other, flames shot out of side and the ship started to list. The damage done to the New Orleans was not from a Harrier but from the USS Topeka.

  Taking advantage of the damage to the ship, several Harriers fired again. This time, the Phalanx was only able to take one missile down. Two found their way to their deadly destination, the bridge of the New Orleans. More flames and debris came from the ship. The ship was taking on huge amounts of water and began to list even more. Heavy black smoke poured out of the gaping holes on the side and from what had been the bridge.

  “Did you see that? That was fucking awesome!” Tomlinson said. He was smiling behind his binoculars.

  Sebastian looked at Tomlinson in disgust. He reached over and grabbed the binoculars and scolded him.

  “What’s wrong with you, those are Americans. Those are our countrymen. This is not funny!”

  “Corporal, I’m tired of your whiny bullshit. Stop complaining. You wanted to go home and this is what it takes to go home.”

  “I don’t think that the means justify the end for me.”

  “Stop being a bitch, corporal.
I am so sick of you whining about this shit. If you don’t like it then you have a choice.”

  Sebastian didn’t answer Tomlinson, because in some way he was right. All he was doing was complaining and if he felt this strong about it he’d do something. He thought to himself, What could he do? Where would he go now?

  “Here,” Sebastian said to Tomlinson, handing him back the binoculars.

  Tomlinson snatched them out Sebastian’s hands. He leered at him for a second then went back to watching the battle across the water.

  Sebastian leaned against the bulkhead and looked through the railing as the smoldering and smoking New Orleans lay on its side. He could see all the lifeboats and rafts being deployed. The Harriers overhead kept making passes near the ship but the fighting was now over. The New Orleans was a complete loss, hundreds of men were dead. Sebastian wondered what damage his ship had taken. The smoke from their ship billowed out of the well deck and the super structure behind him.

  “Do you think they’ll serve turkey today for Christmas?” Tomlinson asked.

  Sebastian just turned away and shook his head.

  “I need a damage and casualty report,” Barone ordered, walking into the CIC. He had just been on the bridge overseeing the final loading of the survivors from the New Orleans. The ship’s first officer Navy Lt. Montgomery, his executive officer Maj. Ashley, Lt. Colonel Pelton the VMA – 214 Attack Aircraft Squadron Commander and Sgt Major Simpson were already in the briefing room.

  “XO, what do you have?” Barone asked, Ashley.

  “Sir, our damage was limited. We lost one LCAC which has been replaced by one from the New Orleans. We have three KIA’s and 22 wounded.”

  “Give me what you have from the New Orleans,” Barone then ordered.

  “Between us and the Pearl Harbor we were able to rescue 468 Marines and 337 sailors. Unfortunately, Lt. Colonel Silver was lost as was Capt. Newsom,” Ashley said, reading off a pad of paper.

  “Any new word from the Topeka?” Barone asked.

  “Sir, the Topeka has proceeded ahead of us to provide overwatch.”

  “Well, I am damn glad we had them on our side. In my entire career, I have never seen a submarine in action and now I have a newfound respect for them,” Barone said, sounding upbeat.