C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (8 page)

“Look around this room,” Sandra suddenly said from where she stood behind Jake and his dad.  “Take a good long look at every single person in this room."  She paused as they all looked around at each other.  “All of us have lost someone to these monsters.”

“Our son, Terry,” Billy said as they looked at him.

“My entire family,” Ben said. “My mother, my father, my brother and sisters.”

“My Uncles.  Manuel and Lorenzo,” Cat Morris said sadly.

“My wife, Julia,” John said looking down at the floor.

“My father,” Talon said with a touch of pride in his voice. “My Grandfather.  Both died on their feet with weapons in their hands.”

“My father,” Turner said as their eyes returned to him. “Thomas Turner.”

“My daughter,” Secretary Hernandez said, his eyes tearing up.

“My goddaughter,” Derek Carson said placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“My sisters, Chantale and Elsie,” Sandra said as everyone returned to her.

The room grew still and silent.  A log in the fireplace crackled and popped.

“We’ve all lost someone,” Amber said suddenly breaking the silence.  “That’s why I’m here . . . why we are all here.  My dad . . . I barely remember him.  But for him I will do everything I can to carry on the fight.”

Secretary Hernandez cleared his throat then again clasped his hands firmly behind his back. “Tomorrow morning your trainers will arrive.  Get ready because I’m here to tell you, these guys are no joke.  We’re talking Navy Seals, Army Rangers, the Marines. One is even a genuine U.S. Army Drill Sergeant.  These are Colonel Frank Judge’s men.  For those of you who don't know, he's in charge of our ground operations and answers to me and me alone.  He is a damn fine soldier.  So . . . any other questions?”  He looked around the room making eye contact with each of the recruits.

“I have one.”  Jake raised his hand.  “What’s to keep these things from finding us?  How do we know that we’re
really
safe here?”

“That’s a good question.”  Hernandez nodded.  “Only a handful of people know about this place.  Most of them are in this room.  The others are your Drill Instructors and personnel such as Chef, the man that will cook most of your meals.  That’s it.  Not even the President himself knows the location of this facility.”

That doesn’t exactly fill me full of hope.
Jake thought.

“All right then people.  Billy, thank you for allowing me to take the time to talk to these fine young people.  I hope to see
all
of you on the other side.  Good luck.”

After saying their goodnights, the group bundled up in their coats and headed outside.  Jake looked around nervously, expecting a grunt or Maker to come barreling down on them at any second.

It was well below freezing and the blizzard showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.  Jake jogged to the truck and grabbed his bag out of the backseat and slung it over his shoulder and grabbed his dad’s old sleeping bag and tucked it under his left arm then slammed the door shut knocking huge chunks of snow and ice to the ground.

“Come on Bishop!” Wes Turner yelled at him.  “We don’t have all night!”

Be there in a second, asshole!
  He caught up to them near a tiny cabin on the east side of the main house.  All of the boys were together in this cabin. Talon led Amber, Whisper and Diana to one on the west side of the main house.

The door to the cabin opened with a very loud creak to reveal a bare interior.  Six beds with footlockers at the end lined the walls with dark blue blankets covering them.  A cold wood-burning stove sat at the far end for heat.  

"Man it's freezing!"  Chris said, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them. "You expect us to sleep in here?"

"That's right nancy-boy."  Turner said, “time to toughen you little snots up. Sleep tight ladies."  With that, he slammed the door shut leaving them in silence.  The only sound to be heard was the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls and window eaves.

"Man this sucks," Jake said, throwing his bag on a bunk near the stove.  "We don't even have any wood to start a fire.  Does anyone even have any matches?"

"Where do we use the bathroom?" Chris asked looking around.

"Either grab a bucket, or go to the outhouse,"  Donnie said, sitting on a bed opposite Jake's.  “Why do you think I'm the only one left from the last class?  Because the training sucks and this is just the start, these guys are going to do whatever they can to break you.  When they are done you will feel smaller than a worm."

"You guys whine like a bunch of old ladies,"  Buck said, lying down on a bed nearest the door.  "This is nothing."

"Keep talking tough guy,"  Donnie said, through chattering teeth.  "I bet you'll be singing a different tune after tomorrow."

"Looks like we're sleeping in our coats then," Jake said, dropping his bag to the floor and pulling his sleeping bag out laying it on top of his bunk.

"Jake's right guys.  Let's just try and get some sleep,"  Donnie said, laying out his own sleeping bag.

"God I can't believe I have to train with this bunch of pansies,"  Buck said, zipping up his bag around him.

With chattering teeth, all four boys tried to fall asleep.  An hour later Jake awoke hearing something walking across the hard wood floor.  He glanced up thinking one of the guys was getting up to use the bucket.  A figure clad entirely in black loomed over him.  A hand wrapped over his mouth muffling his screams.

Chapter 3

Jake

The Williams Ranch

November 27, 1998, 1:05am

Jake struggled to break free from the hand clamped tightly over his mouth, but the figure dressed in black grabbed him by his feet and dragged him out of bed.  He struggled to kick free but his assailant's grasp, coupled with the fact he was still zipped up in his sleeping bag was too much.  Before he knew it, he was lying outside in the icy snow.  Buck, Donnie, and Chris were lying on the ground near him each busy with their own fight.

"Get off me!" Buck screamed punching and kicking at the leg of a large man holding him to the ground with a heavy black army boot.

Chris lay face down in the snow, a boot pressed firmly between his shoulder blades.  Donnie was on his feet trying his best to put up a good fight, but it was evident to Jake he was way overmatched.  Jake climbed to his feet, but his sleeping bag still wrapped around his ankles caused him to stumble.  He crashed back to the ground landing hard on his right side.  "Stay down!" A powerfully strong Hispanic man yelled at him.  Before long, Donnie too was lying on the ground with a heavy boot pressed firmly into his back.

"Absolutely pathetic!"  A voice yelled out of the darkness ending the assault.  "You must be the biggest bunch of worthless maggots that I have ever seen!  If I had been a bloodsucker, you would all be licking blood off my boots and thanking me for it!  Even you Williams?” A short, but stocky man with graying hair said, before walking up to Donnie and yanking him to his feet by the back of his coat.  “I knew you were a weak little punk last year, but I thought you would put up a better fight than that!"

"I'm sorry Sergeant Major!"  Donnie said, puffing for breath.  Bits of brown grass, dirt, and snow clung to his hair.

"You got that right piss ant!  That is exactly what you are!  Sorry!” he yelled into Donnie’s face.  “Now the rest of you get your ass off the ground and get into a straight line!"

Jake struggled to disentangle himself from his sleeping bag.  The Hispanic man towered over him.  His eyes filled with rage.  Jake became so frenzied he tripped again. “Get up now Bishop!  NOW!  NOW!  NOW!” he yelled loudly.  Jake again stumbled to his feet, this time kicking the green sleeping bag behind him.

"Who the hell are you assholes?" Buck said, rising to his feet and dusting himself off.

"Assholes?!" the man in front of Buck repeated.  "Sergeant Major, did you hear this little dip shit!”

“I heard him Sergeant Lucas! Why don’t you teach him some manners?!”

Buck’s feet were swept out from under him in one swift motion and the African American Sergeant’s hand wrapped tightly around Buck’s ponytail. "You worthless piece of cow shit!  You will talk when told to!  You will not open your sorry little wiseass face unless given permission!  Do you understand me!" he said, pulling out a long Ka-Bar knife and putting it to Buck’s throat.  Buck spit out a mouthful of dirt and snow.  “Please . . .” he begged, “Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you.”  He pulled the knife away from his throat and with one swift cut removed Buck’s ponytail.  “I wouldn’t dirty this fine blade with your cowardly blood.”  He turned Buck over and tossed the hair into his face.  “Now.  GET ON YOUR FEET!”

Buck stumbled back to his feet with tears in his eyes and did his best to stand stock-still.

“That man over there is Sergeant Major James Castle!”  The Hispanic man in front of Jake yelled directly into his face.  “He is the angry, vengeful god of your universe and we are his lords of hell!  You will do whatever we tell you, when we tell you, without hesitation!  If you don’t, you will feel our unholy merciless wrath!"

Jake was shaking from head to toe, partly from the cold, partly from the fear that he might be beat down by a Drill Sergeant at any moment.

"As my esteemed associate already mentioned I am Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps James Castle. This is Army Ranger Sergeant David Lucas!"  He motioned to the large black man in front of Buck. "And this is U.S. Army Drill Sergeant William Ortega." he said, motioning to the Hispanic man in front of Jake.  "Our other associates, Lieutenant Leslie Perry and Lieutenant Reggie Smart are dealing with your lady counterparts at their cabin.  Lt. Smart is an ex Navy Seal that’s seen action on damn near every continent and while Lt. Perry is a woman she is also a fully trained Canadian sniper and a damn fine soldier!  You will give her the same respect you give us!  Is that understood?"

This time there was no hesitation.  Buck, Chris, and Jake said, “Yes sir!" Only Donnie said, "Yes Sergeant Major!"

"You will not call me sir!  I am not an officer!  You will address me as Sergeant Major!"

"Yes Sergeant Major!" they echoed each other.

"Let this be a lesson to you!  You must always be prepared!  Your enemy is a nocturnal hunter!  The night is his domain, his weapon!  He is stronger than a grizzly bear, faster than a cheetah, and more agile than a goddamn lemur monkey!  For all we know he probably swims better than a dolphin!  We've just never had the pleasure to fight one at sea!  He is the single greatest threat man has ever faced!  He is the top of the food chain!  YOU are his prey!”  He paced back and forth in front of them.  “I’ve seen blood suckers bend steel, I've seen them walk across ceilings, seen them rip hunters in half like they were snapping a twig!  Make no mistake ladies, this is the single most dangerous creature you will ever face!  If you do not sleep with one eye open, you will be a snack for them, or worse . . . you will wake up as their bitch!"

All four boys were shaking uncontrollably.  "Are you cold?" Drill Sergeant Ortega asked, finally stepping away from Jake’s face.

"Yes Drill Sergeant," they said, their teeth chattering. 

"Good.  That means you are still alive."

"Are you tired?" Sergeant Lucas asked.

"Yes Sergeant!" they said, in unison. 

"Good.  That means you are STILL ALIVE.  A bloodsucker does not feel cold, he does not feel hot, and he does not feel tired!  He feels hunger!  Deep unending hunger!"  The three men grew quiet, looking the boys over for several long minutes as they shivered.  “NOW!  Get some sleep!  You will be up at zero four hundred hours!  That’s exactly three hours from now!  So I suggest you get a good night’s rest.  Oh and one more thing,” he said gruffly.  “Welcome to Hell.  DISMISSED!”

Not needing to be told twice, all four boys gathered their sleeping bags and ran into their cabin slamming the door shut behind them.  They climbed into their beds without saying a word and tried to fall asleep.

Four AM came far too quickly for Jake's liking as he had barely fallen asleep an hour before.  Waking to a strange man in his room had brought back far too many bad memories and what little sleep he had been able to get had been filled with horrible nightmares of long fanged Drill Sergeants dragging him from his bed.

Drill Sergeant Ortega arrived yelling at the top of his lungs in a thick Spanish accent, calling them every foul name he could come up with.  The boys had five minutes to change into their military issue green coveralls and use the outhouse before they were in line in front of their cabin.  It was still pitch black outside.

Jake dressed as quickly as he could from the clothes stashed in his footlocker, laced up his new boots, quickly brushed his teeth, took a leak, and made it outside just in time. Jake could see his breath in the cold morning air. 
At least the snow finally stopped. 
He thought looking up at the clear starlit sky.

"Good morning ladies!  Did everyone sleep well?" Sergeant Major Castle asked, looking as if he'd slept a full eight hours.  None of the boys answered.  Buck still had bits of mud and grass stuck in his hair. "I asked you a question!  Did everyone sleep well last night?"

"No Sergeant Major!" They answered in unison.

"Sure was cold last night wasn't it?"

"Yes Sergeant Major!"

"Well, that won't be a problem tonight.  See that very large pile of wood over there?"  Jake glanced over and saw a massive pile of logs lying under several large lights not far from the main house.  "After breakfast you boys are going to split exactly one hundred logs each!  So eat up and eat fast!  You've got exactly five minutes!"

A large steaming pot with several small bowls next to it sat on a large picnic table not far from their cabin.  Each boy grabbed a bowl and dipped it into the pot scooping as much of the stew as they could.  They ate as quickly as they could as the Sergeants watched nearby.  At exactly five minutes Sergeant Lucas yelled, “STOP!” and each boy dropped their bowl.