AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1) Page 15

  Munns instinctively dropped into a fighting position directed towards the voice. The light of the moon reflected off of Blake's face, but he still threw a fake punch at Blake. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  Blake smiled. “I couldn’t sleep much, either. So how is your family handling things?”

  “My kids think this is just some great camping adventure. My wife, on the other hand, spends most of her time worrying about the future. She isn’t a trained soldier like Tara and doesn’t deal with the stress of surviving in a hell-hole like this very well.”

  “If you want, I can ask Tara to speak with her later today.”

  “Thanks. She could use a close friend now.”

  “Well, Munns, I will see you in a couple of hours. Thanks for agreeing to deliver James with me. It should be a simple mission.”

  “No problem. Good night, or morning… whichever it is.” They both chuckled and Blake walked back to his tent.

  Blake crawled back into bed next to Tara for another thirty minutes. However, he couldn’t get his mind to slow down long enough to fall back asleep. The alarm on his watch went off at 0600. As he sat up, Tara rolled over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him back down. She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her.

  “Do you really have to go?” Tara mumbled groggily.

  Blake hated when she cuddled him before he had to leave. It tore at his two greatest loves: family and duty.

  “Sorry, Babe, I have to go save the world.”

  “I guess that’s what I get for marrying a superhero,” she teased as she let him slip out of bed.

  He kissed Tara passionately and gave Kaya a gentle peck on the forehead. “I love you, Sweetie,” he whispered before stepping outside.

  At 0700, the sun began to creep over the horizon. Blake and his team assembled in the commander’s office. Their resources were stretched thin, but this was an extremely critical mission. Blake’s team would consist of an armored personnel carrier and one Hummer. He would drive the armored personnel carrier accompanied by Munns, and a corporal and private would drive the lead Humvee mounted with the fifty-caliber machine gun.

  It was decided that the safest course would be to head west to the coast and then head south along the pedestrian beach trail to the pier. The trip west would mostly be in a cleared-out zone, and the stretch south would be bypassing the heart of the ABs’ zone. Once they reached the pier, they would hand James off to a four-man SEAL team who would take him out to the ship.

  As they journeyed to the coast along Pico Road, it was uneventful. Once they reached the beach trail, the sand slowed the progress of the convoy. However, it wasn’t anything that the vehicle wasn’t designed to handle. It would be only a few miles before they delivered James.

  Blake breathed in the smell of the ocean as they drove along the beachfront. To the west, Blake could see two large ships that looked as if they were anchored. One seemed like a Navy destroyer, and the other appeared to be a hospital ship. Blake couldn’t help but get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He knew all too well that when things become quiet out on patrol, something terrible always happens.

  As the patrol got to within a quarter mile of the pier, Blake saw a small rubber pontoon boat on the water approaching the beach at a high rate of speed. On the left was the Casa Romantica Cultural Center, which he and his wife had been to a couple of times. A few pleasant memories flew through his mind. On the right were a small beach house and a tourist shop. He hadn’t expected to see any signs of life out here because it was the ABs’ zone, but all reports indicated that they had congregated closer to the center of town. Suddenly, Blake was caught off guard when he noticed some movement coming from the edges of the two buildings on both sides of the road.

  Blake held the radio to his mouth. “Hold up. We have movement at a hundred yards, both sides of the trail.”

  As Blake assessed the situation, he considered taking the patrol along the water’s edge to avoid getting caught in any crossfire situations. However, he changed his mind, remembering how heavy his vehicle was. It had a reputation of getting stuck in the sand. Blake sent the lead Hummer ahead to scout out the remaining trail and make contact with the SEAL team. If everything was clear, they would radio it in and proceed.

  Slowly, the Hummer moved towards the dock. A mindless AB jumped from behind the building on the left. It didn’t even seem to be aware of their presence. On the right, there were a couple dogs rummaging through some scattered garbage on the ground.

  They stopped at the end of the pier. Blake could see the four SEALs moving from building to building, making sure the area was clear. The Marines knew they should wait until they received the “all clear” signal from the SEALs before they exited their vehicle.

  Blake couldn’t tell what was going on at the pier because his view was partially blocked by the building on his left. He leaned over to Munns and whispered, “This is taking too long, and I don’t like it.” Blake couldn’t take the waiting any longer and was about to throw caution to the wind when the lead vehicle’s driver broke the silence on the radio.

  “The SEALs have secured the area. You’re clear to proceed.”

  Blake breathed a sigh of relief and slowly proceeded forward. As his vehicle approached the turn-off to the pier parking lot, Blake could see his men and SEALs to his right discussing something in a small circle.

  “What in the hell can they be talking about? Come on, guys,” he mumbled to himself.

  As he prepared to make a turn into the parking lot, he caught a flash of yellow in his peripheral vision. Before he could turn his head to see what it was, a large school bus plowed down a short dirt embankment on the left side of the road. Before he could react, his vehicle smashed onto its left side. The sound of twisting and tearing metal filled the air, and the three soldiers inside were violently thrown to the left of the vehicle. Luckily, they were all wearing their seat belts and were uninjured.

  “Hold on,” Blake yelled to no one in particular as he tried to throw the vehicle into reverse. There was the sound of metal grinding on metal, and the vehicle wouldn’t move more than a few inches.

  He could see that the driver of the bus had flown through the window and was spread across what was left of his hood. He was bleeding profusely, and his body was positioned in unnatural angles.

  Only seconds after the crash, ABs poured out of the buildings on both sides of the trail. They also approached from behind the twisted mess of tangled metal that used to be their vehicle.

  Blake took a quick glance at the approaching enemy as the bullets started to bounce off of their vehicle. These ABs seemed to act much differently than the ABs that they had encountered before. Instead of mindless drones that charged straight into fire, hell-bent on killing, these ABs were using shoot and cover tactics.

  Blake, Munns, and James fired from the gun ports built into their carrier, but the hatches limited their kill zones.

  The SEALs and two Marines on the dock immediately started running towards the fight with their rifles raised.

  As the firefight began, Blake could smell gas. He turned to the front of the vehicle and noticed a small fire burning in the cab of the bus.

  “Guys, we have a worse problem than the ABs out there… That bus is about to explode along with us! Any ideas on how to get out of here?” he yelled.

  James was covering the back, laying down fire as fast as he could shoot. “There’s no way we’re getting out the back. There are at least twenty ABs approaching!”

  “Munns, how about you?”

  “Maybe we can make it to that restroom twenty yards down the trail, but we will have to leave quickly. It’ll be crawling with ABs within seconds. I also see our guys coming up the trail, so it’ll be our only chance.”

  “OK, let’s move!”

  The three men leaped out of the front passenger side door. They ran about ten feet from their vehicle before the bus exploded and knocked them to the ground. As they scrambled off their knees, the spray of
sand and ping of ricocheting bullets surrounded them. They sprinted towards the restrooms in front of them as the other SEALs and Marines came around the corner of the building to lay down cover fire as they ran to meet them. Blake could hear bodies dropping behind them but didn’t dare take the time to look. About ten feet away, Blake could hear Munns and James breathing heavily. However, the noise reassured him that they were still alive and running.

  Blake heard a yell from Munns; he turned and saw his friend with his hand placed on his side. A bullet struck him just below the bottom of his body armor vest on his right.

  “Munns, you still in the fight?” Blake yelled.

  “It’s just a scratch.”

  “Hopefully…” Blake thought as they both continued running. When they were within a few yards of the restroom, Blake silently screamed inside. Two AB soldiers came out in full battle gear. The SEALs and Blake’s two men had their backs turned so they couldn’t see what was about to happen. Before Blake could warn them, the enemy fired. Immediately, Blake’s two Marines were cut down by the AB on the left. Two SEALs on the right also went down.

  The other two SEALs dove to the ground, rolled, and fired at the AB on the left. Blake, Munns, and James opened fire on the AB on the right. The AB’s body armor only protected them for a few seconds as their bodies flew back against the wall. However, they slowly slid to the ground as their blood painted the wall behind them.

  Blake checked the pulse of his two Marines but cursed because they were gone. He then glanced at the two unwounded SEALs and signaled for them to get their men into the restrooms for cover. The two SEALs dragged their wounded men inside and started to render first aid. Blake, Munns, and James kept watch for another wave of attack.

  Behind them, Blake could hear the yelling of the SEALs as they tried to save their fellow soldiers.

  “Don’t you die on me!” a man shouted. Blake could even hear him pounding the man’s chest.

  “Stop, he’s gone! Come help me with Private Mains – he still has a chance,” someone yelled back.

  Blake scanned their surroundings but couldn’t see any more of the enemy. “We must’ve hit them harder than I thought,” he considered.

  Blake left James to provide cover while he walked over to Munns. “Let me take a look at that wound.”

  Munns spit on the ground and said, “It’s nothing. Go help someone that needs it!”

  Blake leaned close to Munns’s face. “Do I have to give you an order?”

  Munns groaned, laid down his weapon, took off his vest, and pulled up his shirt. The bullet had gone through clean without hitting anything serious but bled quite a bit.

  Blake pulled out his small medical kit. He placed some powder on both sides of the wound, covered it with a large bandage, and then wrapped it.

  Munns winced every time Blake touched the wound. “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He grimaced.

  Blake wanted to smile, but he knew he just lost two of his men and more were dying.

  The remaining SEAL officer walked over to Blake. “My SEAL will be dead in thirty minutes if we don’t get him out of here. Your man looks like he could also use some medical attention. There’s a medical ship, about a ten-minute boat ride, offshore. I think you should go off mission and help me get my man and yours to that ship and deliver James.”

  Blake knew it was the right call so he helped load the wounded SEAL into the boat.

  The boat ride passed quickly, and one of the SEALs drove the boat while the other attended to the unconscious wounded SEAL. Every time they hit a wave, Blake noticed Munns wince. He made a mental note that once he got on the ship he would radio his base to report his status and also get word to Tara that he was OK.

  Once they reached the Mercy, several Marines hooked a winch to the boat and raised it to the deck. Word must have gotten out that they had wounded because there were several nurses with stretchers waiting nearby.

  Several Marines were ordered to escort James and Blake to the captain’s conference room. Blake glanced at Munns and smiled reassuringly.

  Blake and James entered the small conference room, which was empty and dimly lit. They walked to the two nearest chairs and collapsed into them gratefully.

  A few minutes passed before a man in captain’s uniform and a woman with a white lab coat entered the room. Blake and James both stood.

  “Please be seated,” the captain said. “Gentlemen, I hear you have both been through a lot to get here. Even more, many men have given their lives. But their sacrifices will not be in vain. We believe that what Ensign James has in his blood might hold the cure or solution to end this apocalypse.”

  A puzzled look came over James’s face. “That is what people keep saying, but what does that mean, ‘I hold the solution’? I’m a soldier, not a doctor.”

  The captain looked at the doctor and sat down. The doctor stepped forward to address the men. “I’m not sure what you know about how the infection started, but what we know is the bacterium that was brought here by the meteor only affects people of non-O blood type.”

  James nodded his head like he already knew this information.

  “What you might not know is that your blood is different. You should be infected just like all the other non-O blood types, but for some reason you aren’t. That is why so much effort has been made to get you here. We have some of the best doctors and researchers in the U.S. aboard this ship. We believe that by studying your blood, we can end this apocalypse.”

  James shifted uneasily in his chair and grinned slightly. “Take all the blood you want.”

  The captain stood again and addressed Blake. “Once your friend has been treated for his wounds, we can escort you back to shore and let you rejoin your unit. He should be ready to go in the morning.”

  Blake stood and shook both of their hands. “Thank you.”

  James walked away with the doctor, and Blake headed to the infirmary to check on Munns. He also wanted to send a message to his base.

  Day 11: Lord Dameon/Sir

  When word got back to Lord Dameon that the attack had failed to kill the “James,” he was exceedingly angry. He worried what this could do to their gift.

  He questioned his commander what had happened, but it yielded little information besides the fact that they had underestimated their enemy. Also, the “James” was still on the ship anchored offshore. The officer in charge of the failed attack pleaded Lord Dameon to let him lead another attack on the ship.

  Lord Dameon pondered the request but knew that it would probably result in another failure. “If you had been half the soldier you claim to be, you would have died with our brothers on the battlefield fighting for our cause.”

  The man whimpered and left the room. Lord Dameon then called for a runner and pulled out a piece of paper and grabbed a pen.

  My brother, Sir,

  Thank you for the information you sent regarding the “James.” We almost eliminated the threat, but regardless of how valiantly our brothers fought, we were unsuccessful. Our enemy has moved this “James” onto a ship offshore to our area, but we fear they may leave soon. We don’t have the people or resources here to mount an attack on the ship and solve our problem. We could use your expertise and help with this matter.

  Your brother in the cause,

  Lord Dameon

  Once Lord Dameon had finished writing the letter, the runner had arrived. Lord Dameon stuffed the letter in an envelope and handed it to him.

  “You must deliver this personally to Sir down south. Before you return, wait for a reply.”

  The runner retrieved the letter from his hand, bowed his head, and rushed out of the office.

  The runner had used an old Enduro motorcycle to relay the urgent message to Sir. He had kept to the hills and dirt roads as much as possible to avoid any contact with the unclean. After several hours of grueling travel, he finally spotted the outskirts of San Diego.

  He decided to abandon his motorcycle and travel the rest
of the way on foot in case he encountered any patrols.

  It wasn’t long before he ran into a patrol of his brothers. He didn’t even hesitate when he saw them as to whether they were friend or foe. Somehow they could always sense each other or even know each other’s thoughts.

  He requested to be taken to Sir to deliver the message. A couple of hours’ walk southeast and he was in their headquarters.

  Sir was sitting at his desk in a dimly lit room. Ever since his gift came, the bright light hurt his eyes. He was studying some maps of the area when the runner and his escort entered his office.

  “I have a message from Lord Dameon up north.” He placed the envelope on the table.

  Sir examined it then looked at the runner.

  “Please have a seat.” He picked up the envelope, tore it opened, and read the contents.

  As he read, the look on his face became grim. He put the letter on the table and stared at the ceiling, trying to decide what he should do.

  “Wait here,” he told the runner as he stepped out of the room. He returned after a couple of minutes.

  “We have a couple brothers here that used to be part of the unclean’s war machine. They still retain most of the special skills they learned there. I will send word that they should report here to see if they can help us. They should be here within the hour.”

  The runner nodded his head. After about thirty minutes, two large men dressed in Navy SEAL uniforms entered the room. Their red eyes pierced through the dimly lit room.

  Sir stood and shook their hands. “You have served the cause well, and the reports I have received from your commander are exemplary. You have removed more of the unclean than any of your brothers fighting in this great cause. I brought you here because I have a problem that I think you can help me with. Up north near San Clemente, there is an unclean that potentially has something in his blood that could take our gift from us. He is on a medical ship off the coast. We need to kill him and prevent the unclean from using him to remove our gift.”