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If you’ve only ever given yourself a paper cut then you most likely have never experienced this phenomenon. I learned of the smell in a much more difficult manner. My unit was on a two hour alert, which basically meant that we could not be anywhere further than two hours away from base should we need to muster. I was boogie boarding on a private Marine Corps beach at the Marine Corps Air Station in Kaneohe Bay , Hawaii when the base siren went off.

I was a lance corporal, pretty wet behind the ears and had no real clue what the hell the siren meant. I saw a few Marines on the beach waving at everybody to come ashore. Now I was concerned, sharks were always a present danger in the warm tropical waters. I grabbed my gear and hightailed it. The idea of being food scared the hell out of me. Who knew that was going to be the state of the world in a few more years?

“Sharks?” I asked the Sergeant as I turned to look at the few remaining folks in the water making their way ashore.

“Have you always been a dumb ass, Marine?” the sergeant asked me.

“Nope, saved it especially for you, Sergeant,” I told him.

Two hundred and twenty five push-ups later he kindly informed me that the siren was the muster call. The North Koreans were threatening our allies to the South and we were heading there as a show of force and solidarity.

It was well known in the Corps that the Koreans were fierce determined warriors that might be a suit or two shy of a full deck. I did not look forward to the deployment. Two and a half hours later, I and ninety other Marines were flying across the Pacific Ocean in a C-130 Hercules. It was a quiet flight. No one spoke, more so because it was damn near impossible to hear anything else over the noise in the uninsulated body of the aircraft.

The monster plane landed some five or six hours later. I’m not sure, I slept the majority of the ride, there wasn’t a whole bunch else to do. We waited on the tarmac as at least another twenty to twenty-five planes touched down, and there were already a bunch of jarheads on the ground when we arrived. A convoy of troop trucks, ‘deuces’ we called them, picked us up. We were shoved in like cattle. I felt like I had paid my 500 pesos and was now trying to sneak across the border with the other forty slobs I was packed in with. It was so tight we couldn’t even sit. Where were the cops when you really needed them?

We were generally doing what all Marines do, grousing and complaining. That was, of course, until we began to hear the chatter of small arms fire. The heavy staccato bursts of the AK’s were unmistakable. This was no drill, the North Koreans were firing. The trucks came to an abrupt halt and the tail gate was slammed down by the corporal that was at the rear of the truck.

“OUT!” came the cry from Sergeant who had moments before been in the shotgun seat. “Keep your heads down or I’ll write your mothers and tell them you died a coward!” “Nice guy,” the Marine behind me said.

I laughed if only to still the screaming terrified kid in my head.

The exodus was semi-organized right up until rounds began to ping off the front of the truck, then it became a free-for-all. I almost met my demise as I was pushed from behind just as I approached the exit, almost landing on my head. The only thing that saved my ass was the Marine that had spoken up earlier.

“Thanks man,” I told him in earnest.

“You’d do the same.” Those were the last words Corporal Meera said as his chest puffed out. The high velocity 7.62 round broke through his back and out his sternum, passing between my arm and my chest. I was able to catch and break his fall as I twisted out of the truck, landing on the soft dirt below.

“Medic!” I shouted as a blossom of blood spread and soaked his entire torso. Blood spewed from his mouth as his ruptured lungs drowned in the viscous fluid. A haunted look came over his eyes as he looked at me. He tried to say something, but between the lack of air in his lungs and the blood in his throat, it wasn’t going to happen. It was the smell that stuck with me all these years. It was a rich earthy smell, the iron of his blood burned into my olfactory senses. I will forever associate that smell with death, the wounded do not bleed like that. The medic came just as Meera took his final tortured breath. Thankfully he closed those eyes that I thought might have held a hint of an accusatory stare. Was my stumble enough to delay him? I would dwell upon it at times, but I have come to learn that there is no great manifest destiny, there is no universal order. Chaos will always reign supreme. There is no more order to the world than the falling of a leaf in a stiff fall breeze. That it will fall eventually is a truth, but which route it will take and where it will fall are the great mysteries that evade us all.

This almost forgotten buried memory broke free from the shackled recess it had hidden in for many a years as the earthy smell once again assailed my nostrils.

“You alright Talbot? You’re looking a little frothy,” BT asked, coming up beside me.

“Old memory my friend that I really wish had stayed where it was hidden.”

“There’s nothing here to worry about Mike. Why don’t you go see how Perla is doing?” he said, placing his hand on my back.

I found Perla in the back seat of Tracy’s car. She had Henry on her lap and tears were streaming down her face.

“Who would do that?” she asked me. Well actually she never did look up at me as I approached. She could have just as easily been asking Henry.

“Hey Perla,” I said.

She looked up and stared for a moment. “I think you look as bad as I do,” she smiled softly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure I look way worse,” I told her.

She smiled again, “Thank you for that,” as she buried her face again in Henry’s neck. “You know, this just might be the best dog ever,” she said as she squeezed him tight. Henry turned and licked her forearm.

“You’re probably right,” I told her as I stroked Henry’s huge head. We all turned as the large diesel engine of the ladder truck roared to life. The front of the truck poked its head from the fire station, splatters of a much darker red staining the majority of the vehicle. My mind was working furiously to find an alternate reason to explain away the blotches and was failing miserably.

Brian was driving the truck and Jack was sitting up on the ladder apparatus smiling like a kid who had just received his favorite toy for Christmas. “All aboard!” he shouted.

With a grim determination I walked back into the station. I just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the dog pinned up against the wall. I had no sooner walked in when Meredith came sliding down the brass fire pole. I was happy that she could at least find a moment’s relief and enjoy the short thrill ride down, but the look on her face did not speak of any joy.

“Nest…” she barely eked out. I didn’t actually hear the words spoken, the blare of the ladder truck’s horn almost deafened my already battered ears.

“NEST!” she screamed just as the echoed reverberations of the blast were finished.

Zombies began to fall through the hole just as Meredith vacated the area, more followed down the stairs at the far corner.

Travis’ sixth sense was in high gear that day. He came around the corner, the Mossberg in his arms jumping as twelve gauge deer slugs ripped through the barrel. Zombies were launched off their feet; most would never regain a vertical position. Justin was next, quick to drop the cigarette he was smoking and chamber a round in his rifle. The three of us stood abreast, the rapid rate of fire tearing through our enemy but still we were losing ground.

Jack turned from his lofty perch, the smile literally running from his face. “Too many!” he screamed. “Coming around the other side!” Perla had moved Henry aside and was running towards us. I could hear the blasts of her rifle and was none too pleased. I never did much like having someone shoot past me from the rear. Way too many chances for an errant shot. And Lord knows I’d pissed off enough people in my life that ‘friendly fire’ was always a personal concern of mine. I turned to look and possibly shout a few choice expletives at her, but she wouldn’t have seen me. She was shooting over to our left. I followed her line of sight. Zombies were coming at us at full tilt.