These Dead Lands: Immolation

by Stephen Knight

  “Look.” Hastings leaned away from her a bit. “Look, this really isn’t the time for this.”

  “Why’s that? The zombies are coming. You’ll be out there fighting them, while I’ll be here, watching this kid. What if you get killed? What if I get killed? Lots of things can go totally sideways over the next couple of days… maybe even over the next couple of hours. Can’t really bank on there being a better time, Phil.”

  “You’re, um, such the sweet talker.”

  “You expected a love poem or something?” Diana asked. Her sudden smile made her look years younger as the worry and stress she normally carried in her face disappeared. “My God, do I have to court you, like something out of a Jane Austen novel?”

  “I’ve never read any, so I guess I don’t know,” Hastings said.

  “Well, look at it this way.” She reached out and put one hand on his knee. “I guarantee you you’ll sleep tonight. And damn well.” As she spoke, she slowly moved her hand along the inside of his thigh. The contact was almost electric, and he reached down and covered her hand with his, halting its progress up his thigh.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “But now’s not the time.”

  “So when will it be time? Never?”

  “Yeah. Maybe never.”

  Diana looked at him for a long moment then leaned back. She pulled her hand away, her fingertips trailing along his leg as it retreated. Hastings felt a peculiar sense of disappointment when the contact was broken, but he recognized it for what it was: simple, mindless lust.

  Followed by a sudden bolt of despair. It should have been Terry sitting across from him, not some half-crazy Asian stripper. And it should have been Scotty lying sprawled beneath the blanket on the next bunk, not an autistic boy who couldn’t really talk and only ate jalapeño cheese spread on crackers.

  Diana crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’re going to Boy Scout your way out of this, huh?”

  “My family’s dead,” Hastings said flatly. “I’m not really good for anything other than shooting zombies right now.”

  After a lengthy pause, Diana slowly nodded. “That’ll change.”

  Hastings snorted humorlessly. “Will it really?”

  “Yeah. It will.” She smiled, and again, she looked like a carefree young woman instead of the world-weary sex worker she once was. “Trust me. I went to NYU.”

  Hastings grinned. Right then, the Ballatines emerged from the shower area, fully dressed but radiating a healthy glow. Kay didn’t make eye contact with Hastings as she walked directly to the two bunks that had been pushed together.

  Hastings nodded at Ballantine. “Thought we were going to have to send in the fire guards.”

  “Um, really?” Ballantine responded. It was probably one of the clumsiest evasions Hastings had ever witnessed.

  “Get some sleep, Carl.”

  “Yes, sir. You too.”

  Hastings looked back at Diana. Her expression seemed to say, Okay, is it our turn now? He sighed and got to his feet. “You should rest,” he told her. “Big day tomorrow, and no one knows how things are going to play out. I’m going to give people a quick briefing at five thirty in the morning, so you might want to be up for that.”

  “Gosh, General. I’ll have to check my calendar.”

  Hastings started toward the latrine. “Hey, whatever you need to do,” he said over his shoulder.

  *

  “Dudes, you should have seen it last night,” Tharinger said. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the barracks were still mostly quiet as people slowly roused.

  “What do you mean?” Reader asked around his toothbrush. A loud, explosive fart ripped through the room, and he turned toward the closed toilet stall behind him. “Damn, Stilley!”

  “Hey, delivering a package can be tough,” Stilley said from behind the door. He then let loose another fart, one that rippled like a machine gun.

  Tharinger, Reader, and Hartman broke out laughing at the line of sinks.

  “Dude, you got a Ma Deuce in there with you?” Hartman asked.

  “Rounds—” Stilley’s voice sounded strained, and an instant later, several objects splashed into toilet water. “Rounds out!” he finished, gasping.

  “Fuck, where’s the air freshener?” Tharinger asked.

  Reader slapped him on the shoulder. “So what were you gonna say, man? What happened last night?”

  “Well, while you and Stilley were sacked out, I saw Diana putting the moves on the captain. Damn, I thought she was gonna yank his pants down and blow him right in the middle of the room!”

  “I thought that was Stilley’s job,” Reader said.

  “Homey don’t play that!” Stilley brayed, just before releasing another explosion of gas. “Damn those MREs! Why don’t the Army put a package of Metamucil in each one?”

  “Probably because it’s the only way to shut up one of your two mouths.” Tharinger looked at Reader’s reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, she’s totally hot for Hastings. I really thought I was going to see her head start bobbing up and down on his lap.”

  “Fuck, officers always get the hot chicks,” Reader said. He didn’t sound too broken up about it. He spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink then washed off his toothbrush.

  “That’s the way of the world,” Hartman said with a sigh.

  “Aw, are you heartbroken?” Tharinger asked. “Does the fact that you won’t be giving her your personalized pearl necklace leave you feeling a bit depressed, junior?”

  “Junior?” Hartman patted his crotch. “Mister Peter North’s twin here thinks otherwise.”

  “Well, maybe you can use that to open up Stilley a bit. He apparently needs the help,” Tharinger said. He looked up as Guerra walked in. “Oh, shit!”

  “What’s going on in here?” Guerra asked. His face was a bit puffy, and he looked crosser than normal. Stilley let another one rip, and Guerra recoiled as if in horror. “Holy Jesus, Stilley! You kiss your mother with that ass?”

  Stilley’s only response was a straining groan.

  Guerra laughed as he set out his toothbrush. “So what was that I heard when I was walking in? Somebody feeling some heartache?”

  Reader reached for his mouthwash while Tharinger went back to shaving, but Hartman looked a little uncomfortable.

  Guerra elbowed him roughly. “What is it, Hartman?”

  “He’s gettin’ all weepy-eyed because the girl likes the captain,” Stilley said from his stall.

  Guerra chortled. “Oh, yeah? Let me clue you in on something, boys. Asian girls always go for white men.”

  Hartman, Reader, and Tharinger looked at one another.

  “Sergeant G, you might not have noticed, but we’re all white,” Reader said.

  Guerra nodded sagely. “Yes. You’re all white. White boys. Operative word in today’s life lesson is men, as in Asian girls always go for white men. Damn, do I have to add this to some hip-pocket training? Are you guys really this dumb? Don’t answer that.” Guerra made a great show out of applying toothpaste to his brush. “Okay. Someone give me a pulse. What happened?”

  “Diana looked like she wanted to give the captain a little sexy tonsil action,” Tharinger said.

  “And what did the captain do?” Guerra started brushing.

  “He didn’t let it …” Tharinger paused for dramatic effect. “Go down.”

  Everyone chuckled, even Stilley, who farted with each laugh. Then there was a loud splash.

  Guerra whirled to face the stall door. “Jesus, who the hell is in there? Slim Pickens from 1941? You still got your boots on, Stilley?”

  “No, I’m using yours, Sergeant G,” Stilley said.

  “I’m going to leave one in your ass if you don’t hurry up,” Guerra said, brushing his teeth like a madman. “As for the rest of you, I recommend you stop gossiping about what may or may not have happened, because Ballantine’s not going to like that shit. Hell, I don’t like that shit. And doubly worse, the captain certainly ain’t gonna
like it, and I’m thinking you don’t want to piss off the guy who has your miserable lives in his hands.” He spat a wad of toothpaste into the sink and turned on the water. “But if they do start going at it, let me know. Discreetly.”

  While they laughed, Guerra stepped over to a urinal, took a long piss, then returned to the sink to wash his hands. He checked his chin for any stubble he might have missed the night before then gave Reader, Tharinger, and Hartman the stink eye. “Shake a leg, you losers. We’re meeting in five. You too, Stilley. Try not to lose any more IQ points in there.”

  *

  Surprisingly, Hastings slept through the night. He didn’t dream or even shift his position much in the confines of the narrow bunk. When he finally stretched out on the thin mattress, he closed his eyes in almost silent darkness. When he opened them, there was muted light and the soft noises of activity from the latrine. It was time to get to it. He had a big day ahead.

  After getting dressed, he joined the soldiers and civilians gathered at the front of the barracks. Kay Ballantine hung back with her boys and Kenny. All three kids were still sleeping, but the activity was picking up. It wouldn’t be long until they woke up.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” Hastings said. “There’s another element of reekers heading up here, probably from Philly. Several thousand strong. So we’re going to have to deal with another attack on a different flank.”

  Ballantine sighed and rubbed his eyes. “That’s going to suck, sir.”

  Hastings nodded. “It will. There’s more, though. Fort Bragg is still operational. Other than making Master Sergeant Slater feel all warm and tingly, they’re consolidating forces down there and will be establishing continuity of government operations. Because of that, Colonel Victor is required to deliver Senator Cornell to them. Since he’s a senior member of the government who’s actually in line of succession for the office of the president, the officers in charge want him and all active duty troops down south. I don’t know what the plan is, but it’s going to be driven from there.

  “And Colorado Springs is also still on the map. Seems the entire Fourth ID has helped turn the city into a fortress. That’s where the civilians will need to be relocated. Including dependents, Ballantine,” Hastings added, looking at the tall sergeant first class.

  Ballantine shook his head. “Oh no, sir. I’m not letting them out of my sight.”

  “I know. That’s why you’re going with them if we have to bug out. The train’s being prepped for movement out west. We can’t get any long-range aviation assets chopped to us, so the train is the only way we can get folks from here to there. It’s a gamble, since we don’t know what the rail line conditions are, but it’s the best chance we have. If the Gap falls, everyone’s got to get on the train.” He turned to Everson. “Sorry, Mister Everson, but all the uniforms are going to be on the line. I’ll need you to oversee the civilians and make sure they’re ready to go if things blow up in our faces.”

  Everson ran a hand through his long hair. “Okay, Captain. Who do I contact up at the rail yard? I’m guessing I just can’t show up and get on the train without permission. I’ll need a POC,” he said, using the acronym for Point of Contact.

  “There’s an MP captain named Chan who has oversight of the train right now,” Hastings said. “He’ll be the guy to look for.”

  Everson nodded. “Know him. I’ll reach out to him this morning. Does this mean we’re suspending weapons training?”

  Hastings thought about it then shook his head. “I guess not. Contact isn’t going to happen until around the end of the day. If you can squeeze it in, then I’d try to continue that if you can.”

  “Sir, sorry to interrupt,” Ballantine said. “You said all active duty had to head south, but you also said I was going with the train?”

  Hastings nodded. “I know you’re not going to let yourself be separated from your family, Carl. And Reader and Tharinger both know the city. You boys are from there, right?”

  “Yes, sir!” Tharinger said. He seemed excited at the prospect of going home. Reader looked oddly subdued, as if the revelation that his hometown hadn’t fallen to the reeker hordes was somehow disquieting.

  Hastings nodded. “Good, so you have local knowledge that’ll be helpful. Colonel Jarmusch will be leading the western expedition, and all the Tenth Mountain troops are going with him. You guys have more direct experience dealing with the reekers than the Guard, so all of you will be on hand to help. I’ll be going south with Sergeant Slater.”

  Ballantine exchanged glances with Guerra. “I don’t get it, sir. Why head for Bragg?”

  “Because that’s the deal I cut with Victor, Carl. In order for you to stay with your family, and for the rest of you guys to keep watch over Kenny, I have to go to Bragg.” Hastings looked at Diana. “You, of course, don’t need anyone looking after you.”

  Diana returned his gaze but said nothing.

  “Sir? Maybe I should go with you,” Guerra said.

  “I’m good, Hector.”

  Guerra grinned. “Okay, then how about Stilley? You can take him with you.”

  Stilley looked shocked. “Wait. What?”

  Hastings smiled thinly. “He’s with you, Hector.”

  “But, sir, think of the children!” Guerra chortled.

  Stilley frowned. “Hey, man, that ain’t funny. I’m not going to do anything to the kids!”

  “Square your shit away, all of you,” Slater said. “Don’t get all weepy-eyed about the captain heading south. If we survive the trip, you’ll be seeing him again. Believe me.”

  Ballantine turned to Slater, his expression stony. “You’re going to see to that personally, Sergeant?”

  Slater scowled. “Hey, Ballantine, you have some butt hurt over it, feel free to come along. That can be arranged, no problem.”

  Ballantine’s return glare was frosty enough to reinstate the polar ice caps. “The captain’s always done right by me, Slater. Just trying to do the same by him.”

  “It is what it is, guys,” Hastings said. “Don’t sweat it. And Slater’s probably right. We’ll be seeing each other again. The military’s footprint is a lot smaller than what it used to be. Anyway, back to what we were talking about. The plan is this: if we get overrun, we’re to fall back inside the Gap and consolidate our fires on the enemy formations. The civilians and dependents should get to the train and await further instructions. That’s where you come in, Mister Everson. I’ll try to have one of the guys pitch in and give a hand, but if things get hairy, don’t stand around waiting for someone to show up. Use your best judgment.”

  Everson nodded. “You can count on that, Captain. What about transportation?” He pointed outside, where the van from the motor pool sat. “Think we can keep that van?”

  “That’ll have to do,” Hastings said. “It has wheels and an engine, so it should do the trick.” He looked around the men and women assembled around him. “Okay. That’s it. It’s going to be a big day, and I don’t anticipate things are going to happen fast, but everyone needs to prepare themselves physically and emotionally for what might go down. Any questions?”

  There were none.

  Hastings nodded. “All right. Sergeant Ballantine, Sergeant Slater, you’re with me. We’re headed to the TOC for the latest intel update. Guerra, you and the rest of the troops take a look around with Mister Everson and see if there’s anything you can do to help these folks tighten up their gear and get ready to move out. Everson’s responsible for weapons training, but give a hand if you think you can. We’ll let you know what your duty stations are for today as soon as we know.”

  The group broke up. Hastings, Ballantine, and Slater grabbed their gear. Diana followed Hastings to his bunk and stood there, arms crossed.

  He looked over at her as he slung into his ruck. “What’s up?”

  “Are you going to Fort Bragg because of me?” she asked.

  Hastings furrowed his brow. “I don’t get the question.”

  “Okay. Tak
e two. Are you leaving because of what happened last night?”

  He snorted. “Hah. No. Not because of that.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because I was ordered to.” Hastings tightened his ruck straps, securing it to his back. “And because if there’s a way for the country to bounce back from what’s happening, I want to be there. I’m only a grunt lightfighter, but I might be able to help put things back together again.”

  “Oh.” Diana looked down at Kenny as he stirred slightly beneath the blanket.

  *

  Hastings and Ballantine joined Captain Vogler’s company at the barricades they had been working on the previous day. Overnight, two other companies of active duty and National Guard soldiers had pretty much finished the first barrier and made substantial progress on the second. Once Vogler’s unit relieved the overnight companies, Vogler ordered a platoon forward to act as security while the remainder of the unit set about finishing the second line of barriers. They were joined by another unit from the remains of Vogler’s battalion. It took a bit for the two companies to get coordinated, and Hastings felt he was a bit of fifth wheel, since he had a company grade commander’s rank but no company under his command, but he helped where he could.

  Overhead, one of the Shadow UAVs blatted past, climbing out into the morning sky to start its reconnaissance patrol. Hastings oversaw the placement of the claymore mines on the second line of CONEX barriers. The forward sides of the containers were faced with dirt-filled HESCO barriers that completely covered the front of the lowermost container, and the claymores were attached to these. That gave the directional mines some elevation, and their convex faces were angled either downward or upward, depending on their location on the HESCOs. The mines were wired to be detonated in separate elements, so that several waves of reekers could be attacked at will. The devices were separated from each other by several feet to prevent one array’s detonation from inadvertently setting off another in a process known as “sympathetic detonation.” Even though they were directional weapons, claymores could make a hell of bang, and anything in close proximity would feel it.