Chapter 28
Jonesy kicked me in the shoulder.
“Hey Nick, where the hell is the dog?”
“What dog?” I made a swirling “he’s crazy” motion next to my head and Brit smirked.
“The dog, man. Rocket. We had a dog when we started out on the last mission.”
“Jonesy, for the last time, there was no dog. Doc, can you please give him some more meds? He’s starting with the dog thing again.”
“Nick, quit fucking with me. WE HAD A DOG.”
“I am not messing with you, Jonesy. I don’t know why you think we had a dog.”
“Yo, we had a dog, and his name was Rocket, and he was with us when we left the house.”
“Any of you remember a dog?”
A chorus of no, nope, I would have eaten it, negative.
“You all are crazy. We had a dog.”
Jonesy went back to scanning for targets up in the turret. Every now and then I could hear him mutter I KNOW WE HAD A DOG.
Stress. It gets to people.
PART II
Chapter 29
We pulled into Firebase Benedict an hour later. The base itself sat on the remains of the Port of Albany, which had burned down to the ground in a firestorm early in the Apocalypse. The ground was crisped black where it hadn’t been dragged up by the bulldozers berming up the base. The oil had soaked into the ground, making it a nasty mess.
Something they missed again in the Zombie movies. When civilization breaks down, it breaks down. Like I said before, things burn. When industrial facilities were left unattended, whether through negligence or arson, they lit up like a torch. I remember watching from the hills as the columns of smoke rose above the cities. The fuel oil and other flammables burned for days on end. Around us, as we pulled in, the pipes and tanks lay at crazy angles, melted and sagging. All the ports on the East Coast, the Gulf area, the refineries had burned for days and days on end. In the Gulf, oil platforms still burned. Wellheads had been pouring oil into the water until the Navy had detonated nukes right over the wellheads, fusing the seabed. I’m pretty sure the fish from the gulf area would be glowing in the dark for a while, but better than billions of gallons of oil gushing into the water.
The guys at the gate were processing civilians onto the base for a work detail. Outside the gate, enclosed in another berm, was a tent city run by FEMA. Civilian refugees lived in the tents, waiting to get resettled back west, or just recovering from the ordeal of the last few years. I stayed out of the camps with a passion. Many of them were sorts of zombies themselves who were overjoyed the government had finally come to save them. Forced to survive, they dropped everything as soon as someone came along to “rescue” them. They came in by ones and twos, in small groups, following the helos broadcasting a “FOLLOW ME” relief message as they flew around the Hudson Valley and the surrounding areas.
Many stayed out there. We ran into them occasionally, like the farmers up by Schuylerville. They didn’t need anyone to come rescue them, and I liked hanging with them. However, we needed rest, food, ammo, medical care for Brit and direction on where to go next. Our house was destroyed, and I didn’t want to hang out with the Army for too long.
We were in the chow hall when a UH-60 came thundering down onto the pad, and in a few minutes, Major Flynn, the Task Force Empire Operations Officer, walked into the tent, followed by a squad of Infantry. They spread out to cover every angle, and he walked up and sat down at our table. You could have heard a pin drop.
“Morning, Nick.”
“Morning, John.”
He looked around for a second, and then took a deep breath.
“I’m only going to ask you this once.”
I noticed Brit sliding her hand towards her leg holster, and one of the troops started to raise his M-4. I held up my finger, she slid her hand away and Major Kelley shook his head toward the trooper. He lowered his rifle, but I could see him eyeing Brit. She stared back at him.
Major Flynn started again. “LTC MacDonald disappeared off Fort Orange sometime last night. Your crew rolled out of the gate there sometime early this morning, and no one remembers you coming onto the base at all. We’ve had a Predator following you down from Troy, all along 787, and the cameras on the Hoosick Street Bridge barricade mysteriously short circuited just before we picked you up with the UAV. A team sent to check out the site reported a huge crowd of zombies pushing up against the barricades.”
I thought furiously. Down 787 from Troy. So they hadn’t seen what had happened at the barricade, and there was nothing they could prove. Time to play my cards close.
“So, like I said, I’m only going to ask you once. Did you have anything to do with LTC MacDonald going missing?”
I lied straight to his face, and he knew it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We came to pick up Brit.”
“Kind of funny when you were reported dead a few days ago.”
“Well, we are kinda hard to kill, I suppose. Why don’t you ask his toady, SGM Peters? They’re never too far from each other.”
“Kinda funny that you mention him. Apparently, also last night, someone broke SGM Peter’s jaw and gave him a concussion. Strange coincidences, wouldn’t you say?”
“Sir, you’re sitting talking to me on a base constructed in a major American city which has burned to the ground, after we were overrun by dead people who came back alive and wanted to eat us. Nothing surprises me anymore. If the Pope turned out to be the Navy SEAL who killed Bin Laden, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Brit actually laughed, and a small smile broke on Major Flynn’s hard scowl. He sat back on the bench and studied all of us for a minute. Then he stood up, and motioned for his squad to follow him.
“I didn’t like that asshole either, Nick. Next time, be more careful. We almost caught you in the act. In fact, to ensure there is no next time, you’re going to have some company on your next mission.”
“Like I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Check your e-mail, new mission orders in there. Take your time to get rested up, and next time Jonesy punches someone in the head, tell him to take off his rings first. FYI, I’m acting commander of the Task Force now, so keep your shit wired tight.”
I shot a quick look at Jonesy, who glanced down at the big rings on his right hand. Major Flynn laughed and walked out the tent, followed by his goons.
Chapter 30
FROM: CDR@TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL
TO: LOSTBOYS6@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL
CC: S3@ TFEMPIRE.MIDATLCOM.MIL; J3@MIDATLCOM.MIL; JFOPS@NAVY.MIDATLCOM.MIL
SUBJ: FRAGO 21 OPORDER 17-034 OPERATION HAWKEYE
REFERENCE:
TASK ORGANIZATION: IRREGULAR SCOUTS / TF EMPIRE / U.S. ARMY / MIDATLANTIC COMMAND
1. SITUATION: Unknown conditions at United States Military Academy
2. MISSION: Determine strength of infestation of grounds USMA. Determine usability of facilities. Examine Bear Mountain Bridge and NY State Military Facilities at Camp Smith.
3. EXECUTION: NLT 20170815100 unit will provide information to higher command on location conditions. Travel will be downriver using TF Empire Naval Elements, with insertion of team onto USMA grounds on west side of Hudson River.
4. SUSTAINMENT: None
5. COMMAND / SIGNAL: PER OPERATIONS ORDER 17-034 ANNEX B
We gathered in the Firebase Ops tent and I cleared off a table, spreading out a set of 1:100k maps of the Hudson Valley, from Albany down to just above New York City. Various things were marked out on the map.