Outbreak: Long Road Back (10 page)

It was almost time for lunch so Sergeant Hanes was walking them over to the nearest food distribution point. Private Michael Pittman could not help but feel a little proud of himself as they marched through the FOB. Just two days ago he had been one of the shlubs gathering firewood but now he had better shit to do. Now the same people that had looked down their noses at him came up and shook his hand. He had to admit that this whole thing was pretty fuckin’ sweet.

He glanced around at the walls surrounding the property of various official buildings as they walked towards the chow tent. Pittman’s eyes wandered over Stark’s ass since she was in front of him. Mike noticed that Parker was checking out Grimes across the street and the two exchanged little shrugs.
Wonder where that little Sergeant got to.
Pittman thought as he watched the area they were walking through.
She had a pretty nice little ass on her too.

Sergeant Hanes signaled a halt and after a few seconds the trainees took up a defensive position on either side of the street, covering the area around them with their weapons just as they had been told to. A squirrel scrabbled over the top of the barricade in front of Mike and sat there barking at him and waving its tail. On a whim he lined up his sights on the furry little bastard. “Bang. You’re dead.” he whispered a smile coming to his face by inches.

Sergeant Hanes whistled twice signaling the trainees that it was time to move. They had been walking around in circles around the FOB like this for the past hour and it was starting to grate on Mike’s nerves. Bayonet practice after breakfast had been kinda fun, the ten of them taking turns thrusting at a fencepost then running through blocks and parrying. This, however, was getting boring as shit.

Mike got his MRE and plopped down on the grass next to Hubbard and Rowe. “When the shit are they gonna give us ammo?” Rowe wondered aloud around a bite of semi coagulated beef stew. The man smacked his lips loudly and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Gotta admit I’m grateful for the new boots and all but sheeeit.”

“C’mon, man. You know these hippie Lefty Yankees ain’t about to give us bullets.” Pittman mumbled as he broke into his lunch and started pawing through it. He and Rowe seemed to be the only Southerners in the company so they naturally gravitated together. Mike scowled at the contents and held up an envelope that claimed to contain cornbread. “A fuckin’ sacrilege. Whoever did this should be shot.”

“Doesn’t stop you from eating it, shithead.” Hubbard said with a grin as Pittman stuffed the blasphemous cake of faux cornbread into his mouth. The three of them laughed quietly as Hubbard stole a look at Stark and Grimes who were sitting together a few yards away. “Besides I seem to remember what happened the last time you good ol’ boys had bullets up this way. Tore up the place somethin’ awful as I recall.”

“Damn strait.” Pittman said and bumped fists with Rowe. The three of them wolfed down the remains of their meals and dropped their trash into the empty MRE box in the middle of their little group. There seemed to be a little bit of time left before they were going to carry on with their training. Sergeant Hanes was off to the side talking to someone on one of those little Motorola two way radios.

Pittman went over and sat down with Stark and Grimes. “Hey, cool wheelgun.” he said and motioned to the revolver on Stark’s hip. It was stainless steel with what looked like rosewood grips. He could not decide if the weapon was that big or if Stark’s build was just that slight. “Can I see it?”

Stark made a thoughtful face for a moment then nodded. “Sure.” she agreed and unsnapped the leather strap over the back of the revolver’s hammer. The woman pushed the latch forward and let the cylinder fall open so that she could verify that the weapon was empty before handing it over.

Mike nodded as he accepted the revolver and verified that it was empty as well. “Look on the bright side. If you run outta ammo you can always beat somebody’s brains out with this thing.” he noted as he clicked the cylinder shut and looked down the sights at the grass a few feet in front of him. The weapon was a monstrous Smith and Wesson 686 with a six inch barrel. “Must be a steel frame. Weighs a ton.”

Stark smiled shyly at the man as he handed the revolver back. “You know guns?” she asked and popped the last bit of ham slice into her mouth. The slender woman’s ice blue eyes regarded the man as if she were trying to figure something out.

Pittman smiled a little bit, revealing the tip of a silver crown on his right canine. “Yes, ma’am.” he slapped at a fly buzzing around his head. “Some friends of mine were in the business.”

Grimes’ head snapped around. “What do you mean business?” she asked. A grasshopper landed on the leg of her trousers and the woman flicked it away. “Selling guns?”

A mischievous light came to Pittman’s eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” he answered and fiddled around in his pocket, coming out with his precious tin of Skoal. Mike slapped the container against his thigh a few times then flicked open the lid and offered it to the women both of whom declined. Pittman shrugged and dropped a good sized pinch into his cheek. “Just dropped some merchandise off at a customer’s house in Portland and was on my way back when all this crap started.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this didn’t involve a background check?” Grimes muttered as she leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. She had visions of that television show about the bikers that sold illegal guns and drugs running through her mind.

Pittman spat into the grass a few feet away. “Ma’am, my business was one hundred percent above board accordin’ to the Constitution.” he said, grinning again at the look of mild discomfort on Grimes’ face.
Hell, I like these two ladies
Mike thought as he gathered his carbine and other belongings. “Not that stuff like that matters much anymore. I think the Feebs got a bit more on their plate than little ol’ me just now.” An odd thought struck him out of the blue. “Say Stark unless I’m hearin’ things there’s a little Georgia in your voice.”

Stark smiled and it drew a good bit of blood someplace south of Mike’s brain. “Yeah, I grew up in Gainesville.” she said quietly as she brushed a strand of hair out of her face and stuffed it back under her cap. “Moved away a few years ago because my husband got transferred.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that was thankfully interrupted by Sergeant Hanes calling for everyone to get ready to move again. Pittman felt like kind of an ass as the group reassembled and started heading off down the road. It did not really occur to him until right then that nobody talked about their families or other little small talk things anymore. Nobody talked about what they did for a living. If they had kids or were married. He did not have much in the way of family or anything so there was little for him to be concerned about back in Tennessee save a brother he had not spoken a word to in ten years.

Hanes marched them past the doctor’s office. That little brown haired lieutenant called out to Sergeant Hanes as the group moved past. Pittman found himself a little envious as the other man signaled a halt and moved towards the woman at a trot. He watched the two of them speaking together out of the corner of his eye.

“Alright, folks! On me!” Hanes shouted as he walked back towards the squad. The man looked around at the trainees as they approached. “Alright, mission change. This afternoon we were supposed to continue training on tactical movement and such. Looks like now Lieutenant Haskins wants our help doing a health and welfare inspection over at the Blue Diamond trailers on the other side of the compound. We’re gonna double time it over to supply, sign for ammo and come right strait back here. I’m not expecting much trouble but everybody just keep your heads. These asshats are going to try and provoke you into doin’ something but don’t you guys fall for it.” 

With that Hanes called Frays on the radio and told her what was going on. “Crap.” the woman muttered over the radio. “I’ll be right there. Want me to link up with you guys at Supply or at the Aid Station?”

Hanes was quiet for a moment as the trainees got to their feet. “No, make sure they finish getting the range together.” he said quietly. The last thing he wanted was Frays there after what a couple of the mercs had done to her little brother. “It shouldn’t take that long. I’ll brief you when we get done.”

Frays rolled her eyes and turned back to the ‘range’. The plan was that a couple Engineers would come over and build a backstop with their Bobcat loader. Two guys had come over with the machine and started tearing up the ground building up a giant pile of dirt for them to set their targets against tomorrow morning. She was somewhat glad that Lacey was apparently off doing something else.

She grumbled and turned back to watch the men working. The backstop was already about half done a little bit over a half an hour ahead of schedule. Frays frowned to herself.
This is dumb.
Frays thought growing frustrated as she dug out a little foil package of peanuts and tore it open with her teeth.
I should be there. Those guys don’t know what they’re doing.

The man directing the loader driver kept giving her the eyeball. She did not recognize the guy and it was starting to creep her out a little bit. Frays shrugged it off and turned away from the jobsite. Ideally she was supposed to both supervise the work and provide security since there was a chance of the Bobcat’s engine noise drawing enough of the walking dead for them to pile over the top of the wall some five hundred meters away.

The range was going to be as far away from the structures as they could manage and still have them within the FOB’s protective walls. There were improvised watchtowers every couple hundred meters along the perimeter making her job seem somewhat redundant to her. After all, there were four men with rifles in two different towers right there in front of her and they had not even raised their weapons all morning. The sound of the Bobcat’s motor idling brought her attention back around to the two men working on backstop. The soldier ground guiding the loader was walking towards her at a quick pace.

Frays stole a glance at the man’s nametape as she waddled over to meet him. “What’s up, Sandoval?” she asked. A droplet of sweat slowly started the trek down the side of her cheek and she wiped it away.

The big Hispanic guy tossed his head towards the backstop. “We’re almost done here. Maybe about a half hour more if we can find some more dirt, Sergeant.” he said and turned to face the backstop. The man studied the pile of dirt as if he were examining a piece of modern art statuary in a museum. “Do you want some fighting positions dug? We can knock that out in a couple minutes with the loader if you do.”

Frays stood with her hands on her balled fists on her hips as she considered the question. “Nah…I don’t think so.” she said quietly and scratched an itch on the side of her nose. The woman cracked a small grin at the Engineer. “Don’t want to spoil them, do we?”

Sandoval chuckled. “Nah, I guess not.” he said and started off towards the loader. The man paused and came back. “We’re gonna get a load of dirt and bring it back over here in a few minutes.”

Frays nodded and a few moments later the Bobcat was trundling off like some kind of mechanical beetle behind Sandoval. She watched them go and then wandered over to the backstop. After a moment’s debate she sat down and leaned back against the dark moist earth. The coolness of the soil felt good on her aching back. She almost started to doze off when the flat hard crack of a rifle bullet breaking the sound barrier made her leap to her feet.

She could see the two men in the nearest watchtower leaning forward looking out over the wall, one scanning the field on the other side with a pair of binoculars. The man pointed at something and shouted followed by the sentry on the rifle raising his weapon and firing again. There was a shot again then he worked the bolt of his rifle and fired again. And again. And again.

Frays threw a glance over her shoulder then hurried over to the watchtower. The man shot two more time and then there was a break in the action. “There’s more coming!” shouted one of the sentries. The panic in the man’s voice was plain to her at the bottom of the ladder leading up to the nest.

Frays scrambled up the ladder as fast as her son would let her, huffing and puffing heavily by the time she had managed to reach the top of the twenty foot ladder. “SITREP!” Frays demanded breathily as she elbowed her way past the spotter. Her heart fell through the floor of the nest into the dirt and finally settled somewhere around China. The woman crossed herself and muttered “God save us.”

There was easily a couple hundred or more infected stumbling purposefully towards the FOB’s perimeter wall. Frays turned to the squid that had been spotting for the rifleman. “Get on the horn and have them send QRF over here TIME: NOW.” Frays ordered as she slapped the magnification module into place on her M4 and took a knee next to the rifleman. He was busy dropping every other round as he tried to reload his M24. “Tell them we’ve got a massive contact. The wall’s holding but I want backup here if they pile up.”

Frays started providing cover fire for the rifleman as he reloaded. “Leave the closer ones to me for right now.” Frays told him as she dropped three that had their faces pressed right against the wall. The man’s face was a pale mask of panic. Frays grabbed the man’s arm and shook him hard enough to make him look at her instead of the groaning dead slowly but surely closing on their position. “You take the ones that are farther out since you’ve got the M24. Just relax, man. Take your time and aim. They can’t get over the wall.”