Divided We Fall (6 page)

Chapter 10

 Rounds snapped
overhead as Brad pressed his face against the grass, his left arm clawing at
the ground. His fist balled up to grip the roots of the thick crabgrass, using
all of his strength to drag himself forward and off the road while earth spit
up from the ground as bullets smacked close by. With his body now in the grass,
Brad pulled his rifle to his chest and rolled until he thudded up against a
rotting log. He pivoted to his elbows and pushed his head up over the log,
bringing his rifle in front of him.

Ahead, he could see
that the point man and sergeant in charge were both down, their crumpled bodies
not moving. More rounds pecked off the road, spitting dust and shards of
concrete with them. Brad saw soldiers lying motionless to his left. Just feet
away, a young soldier lay with blood pooling from a wound in his head. Looking
into the town’s row of buildings, he saw the glimmer of a muzzle flash and
puffs of blue smoke. He raised his rifle and tried to focus on the faraway
windows.

“Get some fire on
that building!” Brooks shouted. “Get your weapons up!”

Brad pulled the
trigger, firing rapidly and hoping to suppress the far off gunner. A M249 Squad
Automatic Weapon opened up somewhere to Brad’s right. The tracers arced through
the air, painting swaths of smoke and splinters across the wood-sided structure
just below where Brad saw the flash. More fire erupted from the far side of the
road as the patrol rallied and brought their weapons on line. Someone fired an
M203, the
woomp
of the weapon followed by the blast of the 40mm grenade.
The grenadier’s fire was true and the building’s front flashed in a blast of
white smoke; the roofline crumbled, turning the white smoke to black.

At the same time
the gunman ahead fell silent, they heard the eruption of fire to the rear.
Blinded by the crest of the hill behind him, Brad couldn’t see the vehicles
they’d left on the other side. The sound of an AT4 anti-tank rocket screeched
and echoed with the crack a large explosion. An M2 machine gun thumped as small
arms joined the chaos. Black smoke boiled over the hill; he knew the Bradley,
and possibly the LAV, took a hit and was dead or disabled by the looks of the
oily, rolling smoke.

Brad lifted his
head off the target building; the small patrol was in disarray and the three
remaining members were showing fear. On the verge of panic, the soldier Brad
spoke to earlier screamed, “
What do we do?”

Brooks leapt to his
feet where he’d been concealed in tall grass; he quickly took charge and
ordered the SAW gunner to keep his weapon pointed and covering the front.

“Anything moves,
kill it,” Brooks said.

Brooks grabbed
another man and laid him in position near the gunner. He moved ahead and
searched the terrain; his eyes locking on Brad, he pointed and then waved an
arm to the hilltop. Brad rushed to his feet and met with Brooks, already at a
slow jog moving toward the hill. He pointed and grabbed the third soldier,
ordering him to follow. As Brad approached the hilltop, the gunfire decreased
and was quickly replaced by the moans of the infected.

Brooks dropped to
his belly; the others joining him on the ground, they low crawled forward to
the top of the hill. Looking over to the far side, their worst fears were
realized. The HEMMET, LAV, and Bradley were engulfed in flames, men lay dead in
the wire, and others were running on the road, back in the direction of the
base. From the forest, a horde of Primals appeared out of the shadows,
screaming as they charged at the disabled vehicles, swarming into the wire and
pushing their way through to the down and wounded soldiers not able to flee.

“This ain’t right,”
the soldier muttered. “Who is attacking us?”

Brooks pushed back
into the cover of the hill, ignoring the man, and turned to Brad. “Get these
guys back—this is a fight we can’t win.”

“Back to where?”
Brad asked.

“Into the town, get
them into cover. I’ll join you soon; I need to recon ahead and see what’s going
on here.”

Brad looked at him
confused. “What else is there to see?”

“Primals didn’t
fire those rockets and kill those vehicles. I want to see who did this—now find
these guys some cover,” Brooks said.

Brad attempted to
argue, but could see by Brooks’ closed expression that the order was not up for
discussion. He turned and looked into the scared face of the man to his right. Brad
scooted back on all fours, and then rose to his knee. He looked at the soldier.
The man stared at the ground absently.

Brad looked at the
man’s chest; his armor concealed his nametape. “What’s your name, soldier?”
Brad asked.

He answered without
looking up. “Roberts,” he said.

 “Listen up,
Roberts; we’re moving back down the hill. I need you to get your shit together,
you hear me?”

The soldier raised
his head to look Brad in the eye. “Okay, Sergeant; I hear ya.”

“Good, we need to
move. Let’s get the others.”

Brad stood, then
reached down and pulled the soldier to his feet. He glanced back at Brooks, who
was still lying at the top of the hill, hunched over his rifle. Brad shook his
head then guided the soldier ahead of him; together they took off for the
bottom of the hill to regroup with the others. “Earlier, you said you’ve been
through this town before, right?” Brad asked.

“Yeah, a few
times.”

“Good; you know a
place we can hide in? Something we can defend?”

“I know a place,”
he answered.

Brad stopped just
short of the others and quickly got them on their feet. A short stocky kid with
the word
Axe
written on his helmet carried the squad automatic weapon. The
other, a lanky soldier with stubble on his chin cradled an M203, his vest
nearly filled with 40mm grenades. Brad began to speak when he heard the loud
roar of an infected moan. The sounds grew louder on the far side of the hill.

Brad pointed ahead
to the small village. “Let’s move; Roberts has point.”

“Where we going?”
Axe asked. “What about the others?”

Roberts shook his
head and stepped off. “They’re all dead.”

Brad put out a hand
and moved the two men out, and then stepped off next to them. “Come on, pick up
the pace; we need to get out of the open.”

As if someone was
listening, a small group of three Primals broke between the buildings; still
over a hundred meters ahead, they moved quickly in Brad’s direction, although
they didn’t see the soldiers. Roberts dropped to the prone position—the others followed
his movement—then raised his rifle but paused before firing.

“What do we do,
Sergeant?” Roberts asked.

Brad knew if they
fired, the mob on the other side of the hill would be on them. “Any of you have
cans?”

The men shook their
heads and looked at him absently.

“Shit, of course
not,” Brad said. He reached into his hip pouch and retrieved his suppressor
then screwed the can to the end of his M4 barrel. He did not have subsonic ammo
so he was still going to make some noise.

“You all hold your
fire and be ready to run,” Brad said.

He raised his rifle
up and aimed center mass at the first jogging Primal and waited for another to
move in directly behind it. Brad pulled the trigger smoothly and felt the rifle
react; the report from the rifle was muffled, although the supersonic round
cracked as it moved down range. Brad lost the sight picture; he lifted his eye
away from the optics and watched as the lead runner tumbled forward. Then the
second runner stumbled and staggered, the round having successfully passed
through the first and into the second. Brad scanned left, finding the third
Primal that continued up the hill and not seeming to care about the rest of its
party. Brad locked onto it and fired again, watching the round impact it just
below the collarbone. The second Primal was still stumbling forward; Brad again
aimed center mass and pulled the trigger, watching it crumple to the ground.

He scanned left and
right, quickly confirming all three on the ground. “Move, move, move. Roberts,
get us off this road and into the trees,” Brad said.

The others were
already running when Brad jumped to his feet and jogged ahead to join them.
Roberts led the group off the road and into the tree line, where they continued
jogging ahead until they were deep into the cover of the woods. Roberts stopped
next to a tree, dropping low and gasping for air; the others fell in beside
him.

“What the hell are
we doing, Sergeant?” Axe asked.

Brad knelt next to
him and took a drink from his canteen. “We just need to find a place to hole
up, Axe,” Brad said. Loud explosions echoed in the distance, thunderous booms
following a cadence of explosions.

“Damn, that’s 105
from the camp!” Roberts exclaimed. “What the hell are they shooting artillery
at?”

Brad shook his head
and put the cap back on his canteen. “I don’t know, but we’re sure as hell
going to make sure we live to find out,” Brad said. “Roberts, find me a
hideout.”

Chapter
11

The sounds of
battle intensified, the noise echoing in from all directions. Heavy hanging
smoke drifted over the trees and covered the grounds. Shane pushed ahead,
keeping the girls close behind him; he needed to create distance on the last
contact with the men in black, but also needed to get into cover. He made a
straight line back to his small apartment, where they could regroup, gather
supplies, and decide what action to take next.

Shane moved to the
end of a long block building that sat next to his own, tall neglected bushes
lined the foundation of the structure. He needed to rest; the pain from his
partially healed gunshot wound was causing him to sweat and lose focus. Shane
got close to the building, pressing his right shoulder against overgrown
vegetation. He motioned to Ella with his left arm down and let her tuck in
behind him while he kept his rifle aimed forward and constantly searched.
Chelsea moved up next to him, kneeled, and used her own rifle to cover the rear
approach. Shane turned and saw she had a suppressor attached to the end of her
rifle.

“Where are we
going?” she asked.

Shane kept his eyes
on the long apartment building, slowly scanning along the row of lower
apartments before checking the upper level. It appeared empty; nobody was
moving in the area, even though more gunfire echoed nearby, and he thought he
heard the sound of an explosion from Chelsea’s house. The sounds of Primal
moans carried along in the wind; they sounded close—possibly inside the fences.
The combat was surrounding them.

“We need to dig in;
I was thinking my place.”

“Shane, you’re
bleeding!” she said pointing.

Shane dropped his
hand down to his thigh. When he pulled it away, he saw an oily stain on his tan
leather glove from the blood that ran from the chest wound. It wasn't the first
time he had broken it open; he must have done it yet again.

“It’s fine. I just
need to change the bandage. I probably got it to bleeding by crawling around on
the ground back there,” he said. “Listen, I’m going to run ahead and get the
door open. When I signal, bring Ella up.”

Chelsea turned her
head. “No, we go together; you’re hurt.”

“Dammit, I said I’m
fine,” Shane grunted.

Chelsea got to her
feet and stepped ahead. “Just hold onto Ella. Stay behind and cover me; I’ll
call you when it’s clear.”

Not waiting for a
response, she moved in front of him, and Shane watched as she quickly slipped
into the smoky mist. He turned and looked at Ella when she grabbed his elbow
and squeezed his arm. After taking her into the camp, where there was safety
and protection, he hated forcing her to return to the run-and-hide past they
had recently escaped. She was just becoming normal again. Under Chelsea’s care,
she was beginning to play and even laugh on occasion. Shane forced a smile to
relax her, and she put her head against his arm as he coerced his legs back
into motion. He then rose and felt the blood drain from his head as he stood
quickly. Chelsea was correct in taking point; he wasn’t back to 100 percent. There
was no way he could get them out of this alone.

He could see that
Chelsea had reached his apartment door. She dropped down with her back to the
wall, looked back at him, and then waved him forward before turning to cover
the front. Shane moved Ella to his other side and stepped off in Chelsea’s
direction. When he saw Chelsea lean back against the wall as her rifle came up,
Shane turned hard, forcing Ella into the grass behind him as he brought up his
own weapon and looked into the obscured void where Chelsea aimed.

Two figures broke
through the smoke. Shane took aim on the second, bringing his thumb to the
selector switch of his rifle before hearing Chelsea whistle at him. He looked
back at her and saw her waving her hand before she shot him a thumbs up. Shane
looked back into the void while the two men came closer, and he recognized the
SEAL team chief and the Marine, Villegas. Shane exhaled and helped Ella back to
her feet. He rushed forward, joining the men in front of the building. Shane
ignored their greetings while he quickly opened the door and rushed Ella
inside. The rest followed him in and secured the door behind them.

Chelsea moved in
and drew the blinds before turning. “Chief, what’s going on?” she asked.

Chief Sean Rogers
moved across the room to the corner, dressed head to toe in multicam. He crouched
down and lifted the corner of the blinds so that he could see out. The Marine,
Joey Villegas, pressed his back against the wall near the door, keeping watch
through a tiny window at its top. Joey let his weapon rest at the low ready. Sean,
seeing that Joey was in position, let go of the blinds.

“We’re under
attack, the COP has been hit on all sides, and our patrols outside the wire
have been ambushed. I bumped into Joey at the barracks. Brad and Brooks are
both missing; we thought they might have come looking for you.”

Shane looked away
from them and pulled his shirt over his head. He then moved into the back of
the room, facing a small countertop and sink where he kept a jug of bathing
water. He looked in the mirror; as he suspected, the bandage had pulled away
from the wound, the scabs torn and bleeding. He grabbed and peeled away the
bandage before using a gauze pad to clean the wound. He looked over his
shoulder at Sean. “I saw some guys, the ones in black, same as back in South
Carolina.”

Sean’s chin lifted,
not attempting to hide the shock in his voice. “Where?” Sean asked.

“They fired on a
vehicle in front of Chelsea’s,” Shane said. “Caught them sneaking up through
the trees behind her place.”

“Did they see you?”

Shane clenched his
teeth as he used an alcohol swab to wipe around the outsides of the wound then
dabbed it with an antibiotic cream. “No, I don’t think so, but it sounded like
they did more shooting after we left.”

Chelsea helped Ella
onto the bed that sat in the center of the room. “Do you think they are here
for—?”

“Doesn’t matter,”
Sean said. “They hit the walls and blew a big ass hole in both fences. Many Primals
got in; the attacks pulled most of the troops to the outer perimeter. Makes
sense now… the bad guys are trying to get everything away from her.”

Joey kept his eyes
on the door’s small window. “Explains why it’s turned into a ghost town out
there.”

Shane finished
applying a new bandage and put on a clean shirt. “I saw trucks loaded for war
headed west; maybe Brad and Brooks went with them. Most of the officers around
here were bugging out in a hurry. One of the people I bumped into out front
said there were troops in contact outside the wire. I was headed back to get
the girls when I spotted that group in the woods. I was planning to get us
toward HQ.”

Thinking to
himself, Sean exhaled loudly, then turned back to the window and peeked out.
“It’s a solid plan, we need to break out of this void and get ourselves
surrounded by friendlies. The COP is liable to cut this area off and clear it
later by sector. Depending on how may infected got in, we could be cut off for
days in here.”

Shane opened a
dresser drawer and removed a tactical vest with loaded magazine pouches
positioned across the front and sides. He undid the Velcro and slid the vest
over his head.

 “I see you’re
adjusting to civilian life,” Sean said, looking at the overloaded gear.

Shane shrugged as
he pulled two frag grenades from a sock drawer and added them to his kit.
“Better safe than sorry, right? Chief, I’m ready to go when you are; I’ll carry
Ella.”

Chief looked at him,
frowning. “Nahh, I don’t think so. You’re looking pretty busted up.”

“Now wait a min—”
Shane began to protest before suddenly being interrupted by Chelsea.

“It’s okay, I’ve
got her. If I get tired, I’ll switch off. Can we please just get the hell out
of here?” Chelsea said.

Sean crossed the
room and stopped near Joey, who still had his eye to the window. “How’s it
looking?” he asked.

“All clear, but the
smoke is getting heavy; if we’re going to move, we should make it quick,” Joey
said.