Vincent Hobbes, A. K. Waters
Khost: Some Caves Are Best Left Unexplored
KHOST
Written by: Vincent Hobbes
Created by: AK Waters
Produced by: Zulu 7 Productions
Thank you for your service to the United States of America—
James Waddell Johnson (United States Army Special Forces)
Dale Comstock (United States Army The Delta Force)
Keith K. (United States Naval Special Warfare)
A Special Thanks to Chris and Angie Wilson for their donation to the Naval Special Warfare Foundation.
Also to my friends in Hollywood: Rob Markovich, Mark Viracola, and Paul Bernard.
Thank you for everything!
— AK Waters
Acknowledgement
The author would like to thank the following:
Stephen Knight, for providing me inspiration to delve into this subject matter, and for writing some of the best zombie stories on the market. Kevis Hendrickson — my go-to writer when I need a good read, and a man I’m proud to call my friend. To Allison M. Dickson, for being such a wonderful muse, and for always humbling me with your beautiful words — it’s an honor to be friends with such literary genius.
To Chad Reynolds, my best friend who served his country like a good patriot. Semper Fi my brother!
To Dale Comstock, a man I’m humbled to know, a man who spent his life allowing me and my loved ones to sleep peacefully at night. Thank you for your service, sir.
To my amazing publisher, Jairus. Thank you for all you do. Words can’t express how much I appreciate your efforts.
To Jordan Benoit — for sticking with the dream and your amazing book covers.
Special thanks to my friend Jeff Krogh, for being there to help me get through this impossible task and conquering the madness.
To Jonh, the man who reminds me to remember my history and mythology. Thank you for the encouragement.
To my mother for her encouragement, to my father who loves me. To all my friends and family who have always been supportive, I’m eternally grateful.
To AK Waters, a man who brought me Khost, a man who showed me the genre ‘Militainment’. A man whom I call a friend. Thank you, sir. It’s been a wonderful journey.
Extra thanks to all those who take the time to read my work. I’m humbled beyond belief.
Thank you to my Monster-in-law for giving me my beautiful wife.
And to my sister and brother-in-law, for providing me the greatest joy in the world — my two nieces. I couldn’t imagine life without them.
And last but never least, special thanks to my wife. You know why…
— Vincent Hobbes
Dedication
This book is dedicated in memory of Lizzy, Jeremy and Scott, whom were killed in Afghanistan while defending America from terrorism.
Khost is a real place.
This story is a work of fiction.
This story did not happen.
Khost did not happen…
CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY
time:1500 hours zulu
Khost Province, Afghanistan
2010
The hood was ripped from his head, torn away in violent fashion — tossed aside to the cold cement floor.
The shadow of a large man retreating to the shadows, blinding lights glaring, wild-eyed staring.
Strapped to a chair, arms and legs numb.
Head groggy, mind unclear.
Sergeant York.
He screamed out, shaking his head as he filled the room with a god-awful noise. It was one of despair, one of rage. York took in deep breaths, blinking at the harsh lights shining in his eyes. Eyes flickering, moving back and forth.
And back and forth.
“What the fuck!” York screamed. He attempted to stand, thrusting up with all his might. But his body was rigid, something holding him back. York looked down, seeing the chains, feeling them cut into his skin. It was agonizing, yet it urged him on. Drove him to escape that much harder. York seemed to embrace this imprisonment. It was the only reality he had from the shocking truth, the only thing tangible, the only thing he had left.
York raged once more, pulling at his restraints, metal digging into his skin and drawing blood at his wrists.
“What the fuck!” York screamed.
“Sergeant York?” a voice began to question.
“Fucking untie me!” York screamed, interrupting, thrashing his head side-to-side. He finally stared straight forward, into the light, eyes gleaming as he dared the voice. “Fucking untie me, bud! Fucking untie me!”
“Are you Sergeant York?” the voice asked. It was deep, almost synthetic, no doubt masked by an electronic device. The voice seemed to come from nowhere, yet everywhere as if that were possible. It echoed in the room, filled York’s head, bouncing off the walls of the small, dark room.
“Who the fuck are you?” York asked. “Where the fuck am I?” He refused to answer the garbled voice. He refused to obey.
“Sergeant York,” the voice began calmly, “you need to calm down. You need to tell us what happened.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” York yelled, staring into the shadows, thinking he saw outlines.
Shapes.
Silhouettes.
How many were there? Or was the room empty, his imagination playing tricks?
It was impossible to tell.
“Listen, I don’t know where I am,” York said. “I’m not answering another single question. Ya hear me, bud? It’s your turn to answer some fucking questions. Why am I here? Why am I tied up?”
“Sergeant York—” the voice began again.
“You fuckers black-bagged me!” York screamed, lurching forward again. “I’m in the Unit, motherfuckers. You don’t black-bag me! I’ll fucking kill you. My boys, if they find you, they’ll kill you. I swear on it. Now where’s Commander McClain? Where’s my commanding officer?”
York was six foot tall, two hundred and five pounds of sheer athleticism. He wasn’t full of muscle, but lean and firm. He was in the utmost shape, a man who took great care in staying fit. Sergeant York was thirty-three years old, his long, blonde hair nearly to his shoulders. He had blue eyes, a light colored beard to match his hair — a beard that was dirty and unkempt. His clothes were tattered, dirt littered his face, his hair, his arms. The man hadn’t showered in a week. Dried blood coated half his face, desert sand caked his entire body.
York looked as if he’d been homeless for years — a pitiful sight.
Thing was, Sergeant C. York was a twelve-year veteran of the United States Army. He had fought in many conflicts in many countries — against impossible odds.
York was now a member of the Unit. A proud member.
The 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta.