Islands of Rage and Hope (eARC) (21 page)

"Marine Team, Force Commander. What's the security situation on the ground?"

"Complicated," Faith replied. "There is a higher infected presence than I would have guessed. Most of them didn't make it to the beach. Constant minor leakers. Stand by. Quade, is there something wrong with your eyes?"

"Ma'am?" Quade called.

"Hello!" she yelled, knife-handing. "Target in your sector, Marine!"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," LCP Quade called, targeting the infected with a three-round burst.

"But we haven't been hit by a large force," Faith continued. "I'd say that Navy ground team can handle this, over."

"Sweep the medical school, then return to the pier,"
Hamilton radioed.

"Sweep the medical school, then return to the pier, aye," Faith replied. "Marine Team out. Okay, let's load up and roll out." She sighed, drew her pistol and pointed it at Funk. "Duck."

Funk hit the ground and she shot the infected crossing the courtyard in the head.

"They're coming from fucking
everywhere
!" Faith snarled, decocking and holstering the pistol. "This is why I prefer clearing ships."

The two-story tile-roofed medical school had not caught fire. The fires had seemed to miss that part of the island. It also had a fair number of infected.

"Oh, that explains it," Faith said, looking to the east.

"Explains what, ma'am?" Barnard asked as there were more shots from the interior.

"Look over there," Faith said, pointing to the east. There was a large pond that was tinged a bright green.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at, ma'am," Barnard said.

"Zombies can survive anywhere there's water, Staff Sergeant," Faith said. "Any fresh water, no matter how foul. Some survive. That doesn't look all that bad all things considered. So...lots of water, lots of zombies."

"I understand, ma'am," Barnard said.

"Which means this island is
crawling
with them," Faith said. "Intel had that marked as a
field
so I didn't expect this many to have survived. Without that there's not enough water on this island. And with all the terrain stuff, hills, fences, stuff, they didn't all make it to the beach."

"I see, ma'am," Barnard said. "It hasn't been...bad so far."

"They're scattered," Faith said, shrugging. "They do that. So we're hitting minor leakers and pockets like this one," she added as there was another burst of fire. There was also a yell. "That didn't sound good."

"Marine team leader, Squad Two,"
Hooch radioed.

"Go," Faith replied.

"We've got a casualty..."

"There goes
my
fitrep," Faith said. "How bad?" she asked.

"Bad,"
Hooch replied.
"Need evac."

"Move the casualty back to the trucks," Faith said, switching frequencies again. "Force Ops, we have a casualty. We are moving casualty back to the pier at this time. Will require medical support."

"Roger,"
Force Ops replied.

"Oh, shit," Faith said as the squad came back. Haugen had Goodwin over his back in a fireman's carry and Goodwin was dripping blood from
somewhere
. "Get him in the five-ton. Where's he hit?"

"In the back," Hooch said, jumping into the five-ton to pull the lance corporal up.

"Get his gear off," Faith said, jumping up as well. "Staff Sergeant, recover the rest of the teams and then head back to the pier. Hooch, up front and make sure we don't get lost on the way back."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Hooch said.

As the armor came off a small hole was revealed in his back with a larger one on the front. The bullet was lodged in his frontal armor.

"We were sweeping and Curran..." Haugen said, shaking his head.

"I really don't care," Faith said as Hocieniec jumped out of the back and ran to the front of the vehicle. "Roll this vehicle, Barnard!"

She dove into her assault ruck and started pulling out medical supplies.

"Ma'am," Barnard said.

"I am also the closest thing we've got to a
corpsman
, Staff Sergeant," Faith snarled. "What part of my orders did you not understand
this
time, Staff Sergeant? Hooch! ROLL OUT! Force Ops, we have one GSW to the abdomen, rear entry. We'll need at least one unit of...AB negative... Hey, Goodwin, this isn't bad, okay? Seriously, this is a fucking flea bite, dude..."

"Colonel," Walker said. "I'll go prep the sick bay. Sophia can do the sweep for materials."

"Agreed," Hamilton said.

Here's health to you and to our Corps
Which we are proud to serve;
In many a strife we've fought for life
And never lost our nerve.

--Marine Corps Hymn

"You all right, Lieutenant?" Hamilton asked. The lieutenant had taken a position well outside the perimeter around the base of the dock and was squatting in the light waves to wash the blood off her hands.

"Just fine, sir," Faith barked.

"Seriously," Hamilton said. "Are you good to continue the mission? Especially tonight?"

"I am just fine, sir," Faith said. "We'll get it done one way or another. I'd say never better but that would be a lie. I've had better days and worse days, sir."

"What happened?" Hamilton asked.

"What happened was that we put a mix of trained and untrained personnel into a cluster of people who knew each other and had worked together, with people they didn't know and hadn't worked together, sir," Faith said. "And in many cases, the untrained people were
in charge
. Then we sent them out with a bunch of ammunition and guns into conditions that in the case of the untrained personnel were unfamiliar and nervous-making. When you couple that with an absolutely untrained senior NCO who can't find her ass with both hands, and conflicts in the chain of command, what we had, sir, was a shit sandwich, sir."

"I take it you're still having problems with Staff Sergeant Barnard," Hamilton said, his face blank.

"The staff sergeant shouldn't be a lance corporal, much less a staff sergeant, sir," Faith said. "And that is documentable, sir. On four occasions so far she has failed to perform to anything like minimum standards, sir. And she can't seem to just take a God-damned order, sir, which I thought was, word... Inigo Montoya...inconceivable in a Marine senior NCO. I recognize that she is working in ways that she is not prepared for by training, sir. And the whole thing about...ice water, sir. But if I am ever given the choice, sir, I'd make her your administrative assistant and have Sergeant Hocieniec run the platoon, sir. Or Sergeant Smith who has more time in grade, sir. Sergeants Hoag and Weisskopf are equally untrained for this form of operation, sir. I haven't decided if they're fundamentally ill-suited or just having a hard time adjusting, sir. Having Sergeant Smith, a trained infantryman with not only pre-Plague combat experience and training but significant combat experience post-Plague, as a gun bunny is not, in my opinion, the way to have the TOE laid out."

"I see," Hamilton said. "I will take that under advisement, Lieutenant."

"I'm not sure you see the full point, sir," Faith said, straightening up and dropping out of command voice. "There really is a point, sir. The
Iwo
Marines, as they're called, most of them were various other MOS than infantry, sir. Goodwin is a 3381. But they were all in combat
units
, sir. They had all had more recent combat training, sir. They'd trained up for deployment into hot zones before the Plague busted out. Plus we trained them on shipboard clearance
before
we threw them out in teams. And they've got
lots
of down-range time at this point, sir. Hundreds and thousands of hours, sir. They have had time to adjust and adapt, sir.
Your
Marines, sir, were all various support MOS which were
far
less likely to encounter enemy fire. 0100s. 0300s. 27s. Okay, the 27s like Corporal Rock have spent some serious time in the Sandbox. But they were always surrounded by security teams. They weren't the security.

"That doesn't make the Marines from Gitmo bad or even bad
Marines
, sir. That makes them utterly
unprepared
, sir. And it shows, sir. Specifically, sir, what happened was that Curran swept across Goodwin's back 'cause they thought they had movement and jerked the trigger. Because he, Curran, hadn't been dropped and yelled at, repeatedly, by Gunny Sands and Staff Sergeant Januscheitis, about sweeping his fellow Marines and because he was nervous about sweeping a building that had live infected, sir. Especially since they were coming from
everywhere
, sir. Not enough to overrun us, but enough to make everybody jumpy."

"I understand," Hamilton said. "We'll cover it in the after action report."

"Roger, sir," Faith said. "In the meantime, sir, as soon as Staff Sergeant Barnard returns with the other five-ton and the rest of the platoon, we will continue the mission, sir. By your leave."

"Carry on, Lieutenant," Hamilton said.

"You okay, Sis?" Sophia asked as they were boarding the five-tons.

"Had better days," Faith said. "Had worse. At least I'm not having to put up with you all the time on the
Mile Seven
," she added with a grin.

"I sort of miss those days," Sophia said.

"Days like this so do I," Faith admitted. "I just hope Goodwin survives. I really need him." She stopped and grimaced, then put her game face back on.

"Be advised, Sis, there's no such thing as 'clear' on this island. We found what I thought was a field on the overhead and it turned out to be a pond."

"Aggh," Sophia said. "I was figuring a lot of them would have died of dehydration."

"Nope," Faith said. "So they just pop up. Tell your teams to keep their heads up. And for God's sake, don't sweep each other. We're going to have to sweep the shit out of this island tonight to have it clear enough for... You know."

"Will do," Sophia said. "Looks like we're loaded."

"What's that thing about 'actions of a tiger'?" Faith said.

"Once more into the breach?" Sophia said, rolling her eyes.

"It's 'unto,'" Faith said, grinning. "Unto the breach. Thought you were the
smart
one?"

"I hate you."

Colonel Hamilton was waiting when they arrived back at the pier.

"Bust, sir," Sophia said, waving an extended hand in front of her throat. "We even checked the little drugstore. The hospital and drug store had been ransacked, actually ransacked, before the Fall from the looks of it. The medical school had some textbooks and disks we grabbed but it was pretty much a bust. No real labs at all."

"Permission to ask how Goodwin is, sir," Faith said, her face tight.

"Mr. Walker is a much better doctor than he lets on," Hamilton said. "He was able to patch everything up. It just missed the kidneys and passed through, hitting only intestines. If infection doesn't get him, he should be fine. He's already out of recovery and conscious."

"Oh, thank God," Faith said, turning away and putting her hand over her face.

"I'll call it in," Hamilton said. "Time to start the real mission."

"Aye, aye, sir," Faith said. "Staff Sergeant Barnard! Set out security...!"

"We're going
back
, ma'am," Staff Sergeant Barnard said, neutrally.

"Roger," Faith said. "Commander's intent is to
thoroughly
sweep the island and ensure that all remaining infected are drawn to lights and sound, by
making
that light and sound and drawing them to ourselves. Where we will then give those poor infected all the courtesy and friendliness for which the United States Marine Corps is known. Due to the potential, given limited visibility, of actions getting to close quarters, we will rerig in full contained-space combat equipment. After clearance, Marines will remain in combat gear pending further orders.

"The exception in the sweep are Staff Sergeant Decker and PFC Condrey," Faith said, looking at Decker, "who will direct Naval Landing Force personnel on the proper manner and method of detail cleaning the back of one of the five-tons. They will, for the period, be under the command of my sister, Ensign Smith, oorah, and they will follow her orders and give her all the professional courtesy they give any officer, oorah? Further, after the five-ton is fully detail cleaned they will assist in sealing it against environmental factors in a manner consistent with Nuclear, Biological and Chemical procedures to ensure no trace of exterior infection can enter the five-ton while in movement. Any further questions on that will be directed to the ensign, Staff Sergeant Decker. No questions from any personnel as to the precise nature of this mission will be entertained. Is that all clear, Staff Sergeant Barnard?"

"Yes, ma'am," Barnard said. She had her professional mien on but she was clearly curious.

"Staff Sergeant Decker?"

"Yes, ma'am," Decker said, his face wooden.

"Ah," Faith said. "Staff Sergeant Decker, anybody can sweep an island for infected. Both the colonel and I, independently, chose you for the mission of making sure that there is not one single influenza virus on the interior of that five-ton. You were not, in other words, left out of the fun of continuing to kill zombies. You were the only one trusted enough to be sure that the job was done right. I am aware that you've been counseled that at a certain point things are as good as they are going to get. In this case, that does not hold, Staff Sergeant. There is no such thing as 'too clean' for the interior of that vehicle. Are we clear, Staff Sergeant?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Decker said, relaxing ever so slightly. It was clear that he really didn't care why he was being given an order to GI a five-ton as long as it wasn't because he was considered incompetent to lead troops in combat in the dark.

"In that case, Staff Sergeant Barnard, it is time for you to go round up my devil dogs and
git it on
," Faith said, grinning ferally. "We shall have the joy of glorious battle upon this glorious night. Ain't nothin' better than fighting zombies on an island in the dark. Yuh git in
scrums
that way."

"Ahayt!" Faith bellowed as she approached the Marines assembled on the back deck of the
Grace Tan
. She had her full "liner" clearance gear on, her helmet under her arm and her gas mask pushed back on her head. It was hot as shit. And she'd worn it so much in so many hot spots she'd almost started to not notice. "Listen up, Devil Dogs! We are going to have a party tooo-night! Commander's intent. We
shall
attract and eliminate every
motherfucking
zombie on this
motherfucking
island. We shall do that by using
light
and
sound
to draw them to
our
position and then shooting them repeatedly until they are
good
infected and lie down.

"Method: The Platoon, led by their
fearless
leader, shall proceed by five-ton and local vehicles, previously acquired, to the Quarter. There they will disperse. Bravo Team, squad two, led by Sergeant Hoag,
shall
remain with the five-ton aaand their fearless leader in the Quarter as a rapid response team.

"Squad One, under Staff Sergeant Barnard, and Alpha Team, Squad Two, under Sergeant Hocieniec,
shall
break down into three-man teams. They shall use local vehicles to drive
slowly
around and about the island, each team having a designated zone, with the lights on and honking the horn, until they observe approaching infected. They shall then engage such infected with small arms fire and convince them to lie down and be good.

"We shall continue that exercise until
zero one hundred hours
at which point you
shall
turn your happy asses around and head back to rendezvous at the Quarter. We are to be
off
the island by
zero two hundred
.

"When, not if, you get your silly asses lost you
shall
continue to drive on, on foot if needs be, to make it back to the Quarter or this location, whichever is directed, based upon time and location. We will use the usual frequencies but we have increasing numbers of subs moving into the area and they have frequency scanners. If you lose contact, just start calling on the emergency frequency for the subs. Each of you Marines
should
be carrying a radio and backup batteries. Team leaders
shall
ensure that such is the case. If
one
don't work, use the
others
.

"If you get into
close
contact with the infected, don't you worry none. You're in this gear for a reason, not
just
'cause I like it hot. Just scrum 'em. If you hit a big pocket of infected and get stuck somewhere, like up a tree, just git on the radio and call for your fearless leader and I
shall
come and pull you out of the dunny. The reason I'm staying back ain't that I want to miss the party, it's 'cause I'm figurin' the reaction team's gonna get called on at
least
once and I want the opportunity of
glorious
battle upon this glorious tropical night. My kukri ain't et in weeks and we're
hungry
! I am offering a nice bottle of hooch for whichever team finds a really
good
pocket of infected so I can get in the scrum.

"Do
not
take off one single item of gear! Do
not
fail to make it back
here
by zero two hundred! Run the whole damned way if you must. You do not, trust me, want to be left on this island. Do
not
shoot each other! If the infected surprise you, let them come to you and go to hand-to-hand. That's the
fun
way to kill them!
Do
hydrate!
Do
kill infected!
Do
find my rugged Nepalese beauty something to
eat
! Go be my fine and beautiful devil dogs! Oorah?"

"OO
RAH
!" the platoon boomed, grinning. Miss Faith was back.

"Right, team leaders, gather round for your assigned sectors..."

"Nothin' can be finer than clearin' out a liner in the, mooornin'," Lance Corporal Richard "Dutch" Van Dijk sang softly as the Zodiac neared the beach. "Nothing can be sweeter than sendin' Zs to Peter in the, mooornin'..."

"At ease, Lance Corporal," Sergeant Weisskopf snapped. "We are aware that you have a "senior boarder's badge," whatever that is. But this is a
tactical
landing."

"Aye, aye, Sergeant," Dutch said. "Just happy to be able to take my shades off."

"Don't tell me you can
see
in this?" Weisskopf said sharply. The approach to the beach was being done on Zodiacs and the orders were do not fire until landing and "tactical" approach--basically they were sneaking in. The point being that they were going to need to be on the land to effectively engage the enemy. Firing from a Zodiac, especially at night, was a fairly precision skill.