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AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1) Page 14


  After a couple of minutes, the vision in his good eye began to clear. He was alone in the room except for what appeared to be a Navy ensign who was guarding the door. His eyes glowed red in the dim light.

  When the guard noticed he had woken up, he swiftly left the room. McBride struggled with all his strength to free himself, but it didn’t help.

  The guard returned and was followed by three other ABs. All of them were dressed in Navy uniforms and had the eyes of the infected. One of the men carried an old-styled doctor’s bag, and another carried a rifle and walked behind the third. The third appeared to be in his late fifties and was dressed in an admiral’s uniform. He walked up to the small table in front of McBride and pulled out a chair. He placed it directly in front of McBride and sat down.

  McBride’s heart pounded, and beads of sweat rolled down his face. The admiral leaned in and stared deeply at McBride for several seconds.

  “My name used to be Admiral Cain; you can address me as ‘Sir.’ Before the marvelous gift was bestowed on this planet, I was a leader of thousands of men and women. They all had their own reasons for being in the Navy, but they were not unified by a common goal. Now things are different. Now I lead tens of thousands of men, women, and children. They are all united by a common goal. A goal to create a utopian society where everyone is equal, a world where there is no hate, war, or greed. The only thing that stands in our way is you unclean. But even with my calling, there is one greater than I up north that I answer to. He knows the final plan.”

  McBride spit out some congealed blood on the floor that had built up in his mouth. He looked back at the slightly gray-haired AB sitting in front of him. “So why haven’t you killed me yet?”

  Sir smiled and glanced at the ground. “We are not the demons that you believe us to be. If you answer my entire question honestly, I give you my word that I will let you go and have my men escort you out of our zone and you can go back to your people.”

  McBride glared at him fiercely. “I’m a United States Marine and I won’t give you shit, Huya!”

  “I admire your courage, but you will talk just like all the others have. Men like you all have a breaking point. This is your last chance to answer my questions. What were you doing in our area, and why would you risk so much to rescue your friends?”

  McBride knew that no matter what happened he wouldn’t talk. He spit in Sir’s face defiantly.

  Sir pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the spittle that ran down his cheek.

  “This used to be Dr. Leman, before the gift. He treated hundreds of men’s wounds, and now he uses his knowledge to inflict pain on the unclean.”

  The doctor placed his bag on the table and started to lay out the assortment of knives and saws on the table.

  Sir leaned closer and breathed next to McBride’s ear. “Do you know that if you peel the skin of the human body in one-inch strips, it will cover an average queen size bed?” he whispered.

  McBride tried to head-butt Sir but was a second too late.

  Sir stood up and walked toward the door. As he turned the doorknob, he whispered to the doctor, “Once you get the information from him, send word for me.”

  The doctor nodded and grabbed the closest scalpel on the table. Sir hadn’t made it to the end of the hallway before the screams started. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he had the information he wanted.

  Thirty minutes went by, and the screams down the hall had become whimpers. The guard in the interrogation room with McBride entered Sir’s office. “I have the information you requested. There was a soldier in our area that they were ordered to retrieve. Supposedly he carries something in his blood that might take our gift away from us. After they retrieved him, they were supposed to fly him to their base on Camp Pendleton and then transfer him to a ship. It’s located not far from the San Clemente Pier.”

  Sir leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He sat up straight and pulled out a pen and paper. He scribbled something on it and handed it to the guard. “Send for a runner. I need to relay a message to Lord Dameon up north.”

  Day 10: Blake

  Blake stared blankly out the door as the adrenalin from the fighting subsided. The hum of the engines on the Huey had a calming effect. He hated this part of a mission. He could never avoid the events replaying in his mind over and over again, wondering if there was something he could have done differently. Most of the time, there were no answers, and he was left with his own empty thoughts.

  Occasionally, Blake looked around the cab of the chopper, feeling slightly satisfied that they had accomplished most of their mission – to retrieve James – but his thoughts always drifted back to the men that didn’t make it… the ones they left behind.

  He ignored the thoughts as Tara brought the Huey in for a safe landing. She had radioed in beforehand, and two vehicles full of soldiers met them. The men quickly unloaded and surrounded Ensign James. The base commander stepped out of the Humvee and approached the chopper. Blake and Munns saluted.

  “Good job, Captain. I hear it was pretty rough out there, but you might have just saved the human race. Stop by my office in fifteen minutes for a quick debriefing.”

  After all the soldiers left, only Blake, Tara, and Munns remained. For the first time that day, Blake was able to relax. He walked over to Tara and gave her a tight hug and meaningful kiss. Munns blushed and averted his eyes before he cleared his throat. “Hey, you two, get a room!”

  Tara grinned at Munns and stretched her arm out to him. “Come here, it’s time for a group hug!” Blake chuckled. Only Tara would say something like that.

  After their hug, they walked to the commander’s office. As they approached the front door, Blake could see that the commander was on the radio. From the frown on his face, Blake could tell that the commander was not happy. He noticed Blake and waved him in. When Blake sat down, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the radio conversation.

  “I know this is important, but Captain Reynolds has already been through enough today. Can’t we send someone else?”

  The conversation seemed to go silent.

  “Yes sir, I understand.”

  The commander put the handset back on its stand and turned to Blake. His expression was conflicted, and Blake sensed he wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

  “Captain Reynolds, I first want to congratulate you on what outstanding work you and your team did today. I wish I could say I was sending you back home, but Western Command has other plans. Your work over the last week has been noticed, and that’s why I need to ask – or order – you to do one more thing. We need you and your team to escort James out to the USNS Mercy. I wish we could just fly him out, but after losing two choppers today, we are already too short and need them for a critical mission for an area that is out of supplies and about to be overrun. Western Command thinks that once James is on the ship, he will be safe since there have been no reports of attacks on any of our boats out at sea. You will leave at 0700 tomorrow morning. A SEAL team will meet you at the San Clemente pier at 1800 and take you out to the Mercy.”

  At first, Blake wanted to object, but he knew his duty. “Of course sir. We‘ll do our best.”

  “Great. And Blake, I’ll assign a squad to follow your team off the base until you reach I-5. We are still running into some pockets of AB soldiers who escaped the bombings. Once you get to I-5, you should be clear until you get back to your evacuation base in San Clemente.”

  Blake stood and saluted the commander. As he left the office, he noticed Tara and Munns in the hallway. They both gave him questioning looks, demanding an explanation.

  “I will tell you over dinner. Let’s go get some chow.”

  On the way to the mess hall, they ran into Ensign James. His arm had been bandaged and was in a sling. Two large Marines dressed in combat gear were closely following him.

  “Hey, Reynolds. It sounds like we won’t be getting away from each other just yet.”

/>   Blake slowed his pace and put his arm around the young SEAL. “Yeah, they just think that you need to be babysat a while longer.”

  James pushed Blake, and they both stumbled slightly. The unspoken bond that happens to men who have fought in battle together made Blake think of James as one of his men now. He would do anything for him now.

  After breakfast, James packed his few belongings while everyone checked their supplies. Blake decided to stop by the armory to get resupplied. They had shot all their ammunition earlier that day. Even though James was in his Navy uniform and had an injured arm, he also insisted on restocking. “You never know. A SEAL is always prepared!”

  The three vehicles left the base, not expecting too much action. There was an armored Humvee in the front and the back of Blake’s vehicle, each mounted with a fifty-caliber machine gun manned by Marines.

  The two escort vehicles did an excellent job taking care of any ABs that dared to engage the convoy. Every mile or so, one or two of the fifty-calibers cut loose, mowing down any AB that crossed their paths. Blake couldn’t help but think about how isolated and random the attacks seemed. But then he remembered the mindless drones he had encountered.

  As they approached the northern part of the base, an uneasy knot formed in his stomach. This was where so many soldiers and friends had to be put down. The driver in the lead Hummer broke the silence over the radio. “We have movement one quarter of a mile up on the left. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  Blake hadn’t noticed much activity when he had passed this way earlier, but he knew it was close to dark, and the ABs seemed to hate darkness.

  The first explosion blasted off to the right of the lead Humvee. Flying asphalt and smoke filled the air, and Blake thought they were lucky for driving in the middle of the road or else the explosion would have been directly under them. Because of the vehicle’s heavy armor, the only damage was a blown right tire in the front.

  As the vehicle skidded to a stop on the side of the road, dozens of armed ABs appeared from behind the brush. Some started to fire rifles, and others threw stones. It was only seconds after the first vehicle had been hit when the other two came to a stop. Blake turned to Tara and said, “Stay in here and keep your head down.” Her expression clearly said something else.

  Every soldier was firing at the approaching ABs. Blake glanced across to the open door where Tara was taking cover. She was yelling and giving hell to someone barely beyond a tree on the other side of the road. Blake smiled and continued clearing out the zone in front of him.

  The firefight only lasted about a minute before there was nothing but silence in the air. Blake scanned the area and determined there were no more AB fighters on the sides of the road where they had stopped. One of the soldiers in the trailing Humvee pointed outside his car. “We have movement behind those burned-out barracks heading our way!”

  The soldier in the lead Humvee manning the fifty-cal had been wounded in the attack, mostly from blast damage of the IED. Blake knew that the tire couldn’t be changed before the reinforcements reached them, so he ordered a grenade to be dropped in it so the enemy wouldn’t be able to use it. The three soldiers piled into the trailing Humvee and sped off.

  The rest of the drive was quiet until they reached the on-ramp to I-5. Both vehicles quickly stopped in the empty road. Blake stepped out of the vehicle and walked to the trailing Hummer, which held the men from the main base. “Do you want to continue with us to our base and get your man looked at?”

  “Our soldier doesn’t have life-threatening injuries, and our orders are to return to base once we got you to this point,” the driver said.

  Blake nodded and shook his hand. “Good luck out there.”

  They drove away, and Blake stepped into his Hummer and continued the drive back to the base.

  As they pulled through the gates, the sun was beginning to set over the base. Blake thought about his daughter.

  Word spread quickly around the camp that they had returned, and once Kaya heard the news she was dragging her babysitter to base headquarters.

  When they parked and headed to the building, he heard her sweet voice. “Mommy, Daddy!” Tara and Blake turned and saw their little angel running towards them.

  Kaya jumped into Blake’s arms and pointed to James. “Daddy, who’s this?”

  “Kaya, this is Ensign Connor James. He is the man that might make things normal again for us.”

  Kaya squinted her eyes and twisted her head slightly. “He doesn’t look that special.”

  James burst into laughter, and everyone joined him.

  Day 10: Lord Dameon

  It was late in the evening, and Lord Dameon was going over the latest status reports on the progress they were making with the transmitter. Things were moving along nicely, and he knew they should be finished in the next few days. He was about to go to bed for the night when one of his brothers from down south entered his office. He was accompanied by a large guard who stood watch outside the building.

  The man with the dark complexion was breathing heavily and couldn’t speak. With the darkness outside, the candle in the office gave the room a soft glow. Lord Dameon extended his arm out and pointed to the chair in front of the desk. “Brother, please sit. It appears that you have had a long journey. How is the kingdom progressing down south?”

  The man had finally recovered enough of his breath to speak. His speech was somewhat mumbled and full of clicks and stutters. “The purging of the unclean in our area is going extremely slow. They fight with immense courage, and we are poorly equipped to fight men with guns. Each day, we lose many of our brothers and sisters, but so do they. But that is not why I have been sent. I have a message for you.”

  He stood and pulled the envelope from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to Lord Dameon. “Earlier in the day, four helicopters came to our area. We fought hard and won a small victory. We were able to bring down one of their helicopters before they retreated. We were also able to capture one of the unclean and brought him in for questioning. That is all I know; the rest is in the letter.”

  Lord Dameon grabbed the letter and turned it in his hand for several seconds before he thanked his brother and dismissed him. He pulled the letter opener from his desk and carefully opened the envelope. He withdrew the single sheet of paper, moved the candle a little closer, and slowly pored over the words.

  My Lord,

  My name is Sir, and I control the areas down south. Earlier today, we captured an unclean helicopter pilot in our area. After some persuasion, we discovered some disturbing news. It appears that the unclean were sent to our area to retrieve a man they believe has something in his blood that will allow them to take away our gift. They will use it to destroy us or turn us back into one of them. We learned that the name of this man is “James.”

  They were to deliver him to Camp Pendleton this afternoon and then take him out to a ship off the San Clemente Pier in the morning. Please, for the sake of us all, don’t let this happen!

  -Sir

  Lord Dameon placed the letter on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands on top of his head. He sat there for several minutes until a slight grin spread across his face. He called for the guard at the front door and ordered him to go to each of the members of the council.

  “Ask them to assemble in my office in thirty minutes. Tell them it is of the utmost urgency.”

  The guard rushed away, and Lord Dameon waited. One by one, his brothers and sisters trickled into the room. Once the last of the council members had arrived, Lord Dameon stood at the head of the table and gave a brief summary of what was contained in the letter. As the meeting progressed, his speech quickened. He abruptly stopped and leaned forward. He frowned at each person and sighed.

  “Brother and Sisters, as you can imagine, we can’t let these unclean heathens follow through with their plans to take this gift away from us. We have worked too hard and sacrificed too much. The reason I have called the council together is to devise
a plan to kill or capture this ‘James.’”

  Everyone nodded, then a woman in the back raised her hand and stood. “Lord Dameon, what would you have us do?”

  “Bless you, Sister, for your faith. I have put some thought into this.” He turned to his officer in charge. “How many men do you have in your command that we can pull off patrols and use for this mission?”

  ”About a hundred,” the large man in jeans and a tight T-shirt replied.

  “Out of those, how many are capable of fighting in close quarters and are not afraid of water?”

  The man tugged on his chin as he pondered the question. “Eight or ten, if you include me.”

  “Excellent. This is what I want you to do…”

  Day 11: Blake

  Blake had difficulty sleeping, especially after the events from the previous day. At 0500, he couldn’t stand lying in bed anymore so he sat up and decided to go for a walk. As he strolled down the row of tents, he walked north not heading any place particular. As he approached Munns’s family’s tent, he could slightly see a silhouette on the side of their tent of someone standing in front of it.

  “That’s weird…” he thought, seeing it was still dark. He didn’t think anyone knew he was there, so he decided to approach from the back to sneak up on whomever it was.

  As he walked around the edge of the tent near the shadowy figure, Blake drew out his knife, just in case. As he prepared to attack, Blake smelled smoke from a Camel cigarette. He immediately recognized the smell of Munns’s favorite brand and placed the knife back in the sheath. He stepped out of the shadow of the tent.

  “You couldn’t sleep, either?”