A New World: Dissension (9 page)

“What do you want to do about the aircraft?” Greg asks.

The Strykers idling nearby are blocking other sounds but I still faintly hear the props of the aircraft in the distance carrying over the waters. It won’t be long before it powers down the runway and gets aloft. I’m nervous about what they’re about to put aloft but, by the sound of the engine, it isn’t overly large. If it was an old World War Two bird, there would be a definite roar instead of the motor boat sound coming to us.

“I’m not a fan of letting it roam freely and give them free intel but this should be over quickly. Lynn, you keep an eye on it and if it comes at us, call out and we motor forward quickly and through. We can’t shoot at it without taking out guide wires so let’s push forward to the other side. If it continues to come at us in a threatening manner, we take it out. I’m guessing there’s another road block farther up the highway. If it follows at a distance, there’s not much we can do but keep an eye on it,” I answer. Heads nod in response.

“Anything else?” I ask, looking at each to see if there are any further questions or issues. No one says anything.

“Alright, if there’s nothing else, then let’s mount up,” I say.

* * * * * *

McCafferty stands in the open turret of the Humvee gripping the M-240. She feels the cold through her gloves as they motor up the Interstate. Turning and looking behind her, she sees the nose of the Stryker behind as they make their way through the line of cars in the lanes beside them. The balaclava she has wrapped around her head and the goggles do little to stop the chill from seeping through. The Humvee rocks as they drive over an object in the road. Her splayed feet on the gunners stand helps to keep her balanced but her arm still knocks into the cold steel of the roof opening. Regaining her equilibrium, her thoughts wander.

She thinks of her parents and is filled with mixed emotions. There is joy at finding her dad alive and having him up here with her, but there is a tremendous sadness that settles in her heart thinking of her mom. The sorrow and grief threatens to overwhelm her and she feels warm tears fill her eyes. Keeping most of her attention focused on the area around her, images of her mom form in McCafferty’s mind.

She remembers her mom puttering around the kitchen with flour covering her hands and in her hair from some baking project. She always had fresh pies and bread ready to deliver to neighbors or to take to church, the smell of fresh bread permeating the house. Her mom standing over the kitchen counter humming while kneading the dough. Memories surface of her mom tirelessly roaming about doing laundry, sweeping, and changing bed linens. She remembers her mom putting on her favorite dress for church and helping McCafferty with hers when she was young. There were the times when her mom took her out with her new bicycle and taught her to ride, picking her up the many times when she fell in the their dusty yard. Always dusting her off and giving her words of encouragement. Clapping when she managed to make it down the entire driveway on her own. The twinkle that always shone in her mother’s eye. The memories of her mom waking early and herself waking to the aroma of breakfast wafting through the house. The peace and contentment McCafferty felt waking to the smell of bacon as it drifted in her room.

Although her dad felt he ruled the house and made the decisions, McCafferty always knew her mom actually did but with a softer touch. Her mom never had a bad thing to say about anyone and would admonish her dad gently when he would make critical comments. McCafferty remembers going to the grocery store and her mom chatting with anyone and everyone in line. Now she is gone like so many others, just another on the long list of those lying in the emptiness of the world. McCafferty reaches under her goggles and wipes away the tears that are running down her cheeks.

“I love you, mom, and miss you so much,” she whispers.

Although grieving for the loss of her mom and thankful for her dad making it, she is also thankful for those around her. Even though under constant tension and danger, she is relieved to have found herself in such good company in this strange new world. She is grateful for the camaraderie of Red Team and the bond they share; for Jack and Sergeant Connell. Grateful for Jack and his leadership even though she mentally shakes her head at his plans and actions at times. She’s glad for Sergeant Connell and respects her toughness in the same way she does Gonzalez. She has grown close to Gonzalez in the past few months and admires her quick wit and her ability to maintain her composure and humor in pressure situations. Yeah, she’ll follow any of them to the ends of the earth.
Which
, she thinks,
is here and now
.

She knows they’ll make it through this together but she wonders if the stress won’t get to them eventually. Her tours in Iraq and Afghanistan have shown her that, even with the best of them, the strain gets to everyone eventually. The hope arises in McCafferty that they reach a point of safety soon as she has seen an edginess grow among the other soldiers. She feels it within herself; jumping at any sudden noise.

The one thing she is most thankful for is that they don’t have to venture into any more darkened buildings. That creeped her out each and every time and filled her with more fear than she has ever known. The quiet was probably the worst part. A shiver runs down her spine as she remembers the buildings, the dark under the green glow with lasers tracking, the shuffle of footsteps on dusty floors, and the occasional whisper or quiet voice on the radio. The team or teams venturing farther into the building not knowing if there were any night runners within. She remembers the tension pulling her every nerve tight not knowing when or from where an attack would come. The attacks always came on suddenly and they were lucky if they had any advance warning by hearing something or catching a glimpse. Sometimes they were set upon by a mass of them which forced them out and other times by only four or five. Any thought of a night runner fills her instantly with an intense dread.

She pulls her focus back entirely to the area around her as a bridge looms ahead. It’s actually two bridges running in parallel. The light green of the towers and suspension lines rise toward the gray clouds hovering overhead. The lanes widen as they rise upward and are lost from view as they reach the top to begin their downward arch on the other side. Her Humvee pulls to an opening in the middle just before the bridges. She braces for the stop keeping her weapon aimed at the topmost part of the spans, alternating between the two bridges. McCafferty first hears and then sees Sergeant Connell’s Humvee pull up adjacent. Jack emerges from just in front and below her, walks over to the other Humvee, and talks with the First Sergeant. Upon his return, she hears him tell them that they are going to the crest and scout the other side. She hears Gonzalez give a “Hooah” and smiles as she visualizes Jack’s customary eye roll at the phrase. They all get a kick out of that and do it as often as they can without overdoing it. With him having spent some time with boots on the ground, Jack’s not like the usual Air Force zoomies with their swagger and country club demeanor but he shuns anything he sees as gung ho.

The Humvee lurches forward and they proceed slowly in the middle lane up the arch of the bridge. McCafferty glances at the blue waters below, turned more leaden by the clouds overhead. She tenses as they approach the crest not knowing what to expect. The far side of the bridge is slowly revealed the closer to the top they come. A loud crack and bang coming from the windshield just ahead and below startles her. Hearing the whine of a ricocheting bullet as it passes just off her left and into the air above, her heart races with the sudden release of adrenaline and she cringes to her right before bringing the M-240 to bear to her immediate front.

McCafferty hears Jack shout “Fuck!” below her but the rest of his words are lost as she is thrown forward from a sudden halt. She is pressed there as the Humvee is thrown in reverse and begins to traverse quickly backwards. Pushing rearwards, she rights herself just as the vehicles comes to a stop and quickly brings the gun to bear once again. Ahead, only the top of the lanes are in view. She remembers catching a glimpse of a line of vehicles strewn across the bottom of the bridges on the far side before Jack drove them back below the crest.

“Everyone okay?” She hears Jack call out.

She hears Gonzalez’ response and smiles although the near miss still has her heart racing. Inside, she couldn’t agree more with needing a new set of fatigues. Her hands shake from the adrenaline. Expecting something or someone to appear at a moments notice, she keeps her weapon trained on the empty lanes ahead of her.

“Good here, sir,” she replies after hearing Robert answer.

“Okay, good, wait here,” Jack says and exits the Humvee.

While keeping an eye to the front, she watches in her peripheral as Jack runs across the road and vaults a railing near the edge of the bridge. He almost disappears from sight as he first crouches and then crawls along the outer walkway. Her heart has slowed somewhat but nowhere near normal and she feels the chill creep back to her hands and face. Hearing the conversations between Jack and Sergeant Connell, she watches as Jack returns a few minutes later and they drive back to the group.

Rubbing her gloved hands together to shake off the chill, she observes the team leaders meet while keeping an eye on the gray lanes arching ahead. The adrenaline has subsided to an extent but some remains as she knows action is imminent. Jack reaches in to grab the mic and she listens in on the conversation between him and whoever is sitting on the far side of the bridge. Having served in the sandbox a few times, she is used to this kind of action and the having to wait, but to have to do this here, in her own country, just feels strange. Her body and mind are tired after days of constant danger and not knowing what to expect from minute to minute. It’s getting to her and she feels the weariness of it all. Her only hope is that they reach a point of stability where they can unwind soon. The only thing keeping them together right now is their camaraderie; their watching after each other.

She hears Jack’s sigh as he hangs up the mic. She knows he must be tired as well and feels his exasperation. As if the night runners aren’t enough, they have to deal with others. The chill settles deeper into her bones and the mental tiredness seems even more pronounced. The conversation made it clear that they are going into yet another battle. She shakes her head wondering what it is about human nature that creates these situations.
Can’t they just see they have to be pulling together rather than isolating themselves.
She can almost understand the marauder mentality more than this situation. They’re just bullies who take what they want and always have. Here, the two groups aren’t that much different from one another and have much of the same ideas and goals. Mentally, she hopes that Jack will decide to take the other route mentioned. She’s just doesn’t want to be involved in yet another firefight. They are bucking the odds as it is and every engagement lowers those odds even more.

McCafferty ducks her head inside as Jack climbs in and relays the plan. She feels her heart beat faster but it’s inside a tired body and the familiar adrenaline surge doesn’t appear.
They’ll be through this quickly
, she tells herself knowing the surge of adrenaline will come soon. Rising back through the opening, she checks to ensure her weapon is ready to go. They’ll be paralleling the Stryker on the left bridge and she’ll throw her rounds into the fray once they start. She feels exposed sitting up here but understands the need to gain fire superiority at the outset. That has been drilled into her head during countless other engagements. It still feels strange here but she trusts those around her and won’t hesitate. She keeps her eye out as Jack mentioned they would be bugging out if there were any signs that the other group had rockets or some form of anti-armor.

The throaty growl of the Stryker diesels increases as the engines rev up and the big vehicles move online. Two Strykers move to the lanes leading up to the bridge on the right. The third moves to the middle of the left hand bridge. McCafferty grips the M-240 as the Humvee lurches and moves alongside.
There’s the adrenaline
, she thinks as the chill of the day fades into the background.
It’s go time
.

They begin to move forward. Her grip tightens as her entire focus is on the terrain slowly appearing as they near the crest. Inch by inch the trees and hills on the far side make their appearance. The line of cars she glimpsed seemingly hours ago will appear as her line of sight passes the top and begins to track downward. Her vision takes in the barrel pointing ahead and aligns it with the top of the roadway and the slowly appearing terrain beyond. The rumble of the engine next to her drowns out any other sounds although she thinks the thumping of her heart gives it competition. The tops of the vehicles on the far side come into view. Her breath quickens.

With a squeal, the Stryker next to her lurches as it pulls to a stop. McCafferty braces herself as Jack brings her Humvee to a stop as well and she sits staring along the dark gray lanes stretching ahead, arching downward to the cars and trucks across the roadway ahead. Small figures crouch behind trunks, hoods, and roof tops with their guns pointed her way. Feeling exposed, she swivels the gun back and forth watching and waiting for the first blink of light from beyond that signals gunfire. Glancing to the side, she sees the two Strykers adjacent on the other bridge. The smell of diesel exhaust drifts on the moist air and she can almost taste its acridness. Stillness descends as the two sides stare across the open space between them… waiting.