Kilo-29 (Damned of the 2/19th, Book 15)

Part 51

Site Kilo-29
Winter-1993
Day ???

"Down!" I yelled, following my own advice as I was yelling it and bellying down onto the concrete. Donaldson and Kincaid were moving just as fast as me, Kincaid landing with a grunt as the fuel pack's frame drove into his spine. Bullets howled overhead, sounding spiteful and angry. Sparks jumped from the walls as bullets ricocheted off of them, and something tugged at my ruck.

Martin his hid his face under his paws.

"STOP FUCKING SHOOTING!" Donaldson yelled.

"Cease fire, goddamn it!" I bellowed out. The echoes mixed together, but still carried the general intent.

Stop fucking shooting at us.

"Keep the fuck back, you pale faced fuck!" someone yelled. More bullets howled over our heads.

"Goddamn it, I'm going to burn every one of you to a fucking cinder!" Kincaid shouted.

The bullets stopped.

"Kincaid?" One of them called out. "Is that really you?"

"Yes, it's me, you goddamn moron!" Kincaid yelled. "Stop shooting at me!"

"Prove it!" Someone yelled.

Another shot cracked by us, vanishing into the tunnel and whining off of the wall when it hit the curving side of the blast deflection tunnel.

"I swear to god, if you keep shooting at me, I'm going to break my foot off in your ass!" I yelled.

"Sergeant Ant?" It was the Major this time.

"Yes, sir?" I still didn't get up off the concrete.

"Where did you get your combat patch?" He asked me.

"Fucking AAFES!" I yelled back. Someone laughed, a high brittle sound.

"It's them, let them through." The Major yelled.

I still laid there for a few moments, just knowing as soon as I got up one of those retarded howler monkeys would put a bullet through my gut. Finally I pushed myself up, biting back a groan of pain at the agony in my shoulder, and struggled to my feet. I'd hoped for a quick pushup recovery motion, and instead almost fell over. Martin held on tight to the sling that I'd nearly forgotten I was wearing, looking worried that he'd get shot with me.

"Coming in." I called out, my voice echoing in the tunnel.

Kincaid and Donaldson waited for me, Donaldson grabbing my left arm and pulling it over his shoulders, steadying me so I didn't lurch down the tunnel.

"In just a few hours, I'm gonna find me a blond and a redhead." Kincaid muttered. I grinned at Donaldson, who grinned back. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he'd lost a lot of weight, the baby-fat that had been on his face when we first met melted away. The sandbags the Major had made his men stack up across the blast deflection tunnel had a single gap in them, and snow was piled up to the third sandbag row, slowly sloping down toward us until it vanished smoothly and evenly at about the thirty foot mark. What was left of the Major's men watched us from behind the sandbags, little visible beyond the helmets, rifles, and watchful eyes set in pale faces.

"You're missing a man." The Major said quietly as Donaldson drug me through the snow.

"Bishop took Shads." Donaldson said. I nodded, then let my head droop down. I was too exhausted to even care, the end of the whole damn thing meaning I could just lay down and sleep.

Or die.

I didn't care any more.

"What's wrong with Sergeant Ant?" Someone asked.

"He needs a hospital." Donaldson said. "He's pretty badly wounded." He looked around. "Where's the guys we sent up with Sergeant Ant's Humvee?"

The Major waved behind him. "Back there, with the truck. Sergeant Ant informed me of the ammunition the truck was carrying, and I didn't want to risk the ammo stocks, so we sandwiched it in between two of the five-tons."

I tried to not, but instead ended up dry heaving. Donaldson held me up, kept me from going down to my knees, but it still took forever before I could raise my head up and look at the Major.

"How?" My voice sounded rusty and it hurt to speak. I swallowed, and tried again. "How bad?"

"About a half dozen of those things came out of the snow at us. They called out in your voices and they got close before we realized what was going on." He looked suddenly older. "They took two of my men."

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"Bring the Sergeant along." The Major said. I closed my eyes and let Donaldson drag me. My legs were numb and I still staggered even with Donaldson's help. When someone tried to lift my right arm I scream in agony as the torn muscles that made up my rotator cuff were stretched and something inside of the joint rolled with inside the socket. Something else ground across the top of the bone and the stabbing pain left me hanging between whoever was carrying and almost sobbing.

"Kincaid, hold the line, I gotta brief the Major." Donaldson said.

"You got it, Corporal." Kincaid said from behind me. I heard the igniter pop twice.

"Sergeant Ant said we gotta set up a quarantine." Donaldson was saying. My feet were kicking, but I wasn't contributing much to moving me. I couldn't really tell what my feet were hitting, my legs were pretty much numb, but I was still trying to keep going.

"Quarantine? Why?" The Major asked.

"We might be infected." Donaldson said.

"Set him down there." The Major said. I felt the two men set me down on something, leaving me face up after my helmet clonked against something. "Infected with what?"

"Whatever those things had. Sergeant Ant told me to call for a biohazard team. Kincaid is supposed to stay in his suit till they get here, and nobody can leave till we get checked out by the biohazard team." Donaldson said. I felt whatever I was laying on shift. "Sergeant Ant, can you hear me?"

"Dee?" I asked. I wasn't sure if he could hear me, or if I was even actually speaking.

"I'm here, Sergeant." Donaldson said. "I need to know how to call the biohazard team."

I searched my memory. It was right there, I just couldn't remember. I needed to call them, but the SINGARD radio in the Gypsy Wagon didn't have enough range. I knew I was going to be out of contact, but I'd taken the...

"Sergeant?" The Major asked.

"Phone home." I muttered. That was as close as I could remember.

"What's he saying?" The Major asked.

"Notebook." I said, and tried to unbutton my top pocket to pull out my notebook.

"Let me, Sergeant." Donaldson said. "Hold your monkey." I felt something soft against my hand and I grabbed it, knowing Martin by feel. I lifted him up and pressed him against my cheek.

"He's dying, isn't he?" The Major said.

"Don't matter." I said.

"I matters to me." The Major snarled. "I've already lost too many fucking men."

"That's not what he means." Donaldson said. I could feel my pocket being opened.

"What does he mean?" The Major asked. I heard pages flipping.

"Damn, this whole notebook is full." Donaldson said. "At least he labeled shit."

"What did he mean?" The Major repeated.

Nancy leaned down out of the darkness, her brown hair mussed and a lock across her eyes. She had a smear of blood on her cheek, but her brown eyes were full of love. She kissed my forehead.

"He means he doesn't matter, sir." Donaldson said, his voice tight. "He's a little out of his gourd."

"Silly boy." Nancy said. She held up the wedding ring that I'd left on the nightstand when I'd gotten my recall orders. "You think you get to die? We own you. Heather and I own your soul, you don't get to die."

"Nancy." I whispered. She smiled at me and put her hand on my cheek. It was warm, and I could smell the faint smell of strawberries that I associated with her.

"He's just having a hard time right now." Donaldson said. "Holy shit, you have to be kidding me."

Nancy sat down next to me, her large breasts filling out her Iron Maiden T-shirt, the sides of them visible through the holes where she'd cut the sleeves away. Like usual, she wasn't wearing a bra. She touched my cheek, still smiling down at me.

"There's no way Heather, Catherine and I are going to give you up." She said. Her eyes were full of tears. "You don't have our permission to die, silly boy."

"It's gotta be in here somewhere, do you know what it would look like?" Donaldson asked.

"Never even heard of one, how should I know what it looks like." The Major said.

"Watch him, don't touch his head, I drilled a fucking hole in it. Don't let him die." Donaldson snapped, and I heard the door of the Gypsy Wagon open.

"He's smiling." The Major said.

"Good, I'd rather he was smiling than crying or screaming." Donaldson answered. His voice was weird. "If I was him, where would I stash it?"

"You'll be all right, Sergeant." The Major's voice was strong and steady. "We'll call for evac and get out of here."

"Phone home." I whispered.

"Just keep talking, Ant." Nancy said gently, her warm hand still on my cheek. "It's OK for you to relax now. You can trust the Major, he'll take care of you." She'd started crying, the drops falling from her face.

"Donaldson will find your phone and call it in, and we'll get you to the nearest hospital." The Major said. "You'll be just fine. I'm not losing another man to this god forsaken mountain."

My phone. The sat-phone that I'd carried since 2/19th and made sure it was never too far away. It wasn't the same one, of course, I'd tossed that one into the Long Haul AKA Humvee-24, right before I'd thrown a grenade inside of it, but it was still something I refused to be without.

The dish had be aligned, but the booklet had the instructions and I kept a compass in the bag with the phone just in case I lost the one on my LBE. Just like I had. All that was left of my trusty compass was the black metal clip that normally held the nylon bag in place. Donaldson was smart, motivated, and took initiative, he'd figure it out.

I also knew that he wouldn't call in an evac, or let the Major leave, he'd do exactly what I'd told him to do.

Separate everyone and call in the biohazard team. Even with the shit going down in Dakota they'd have to send one if he called in the code group that I'd written down in my notebook.

It was Class-C right now. If we went to the hospital it could jump to Class-A1 in less than 24 hours, and nobody wanted another Terrington Texas to happen.

Martin reached up and petted my cheek, ooking softly to me.

"Found it!" Donaldson yelled suddenly. There was a thumping noise. "Is he still alive?"

"He's still breathing. I think he might be in real trouble, he's not blinking." The Major said.

"Too much pressure on his brain. Leave him on his back, it'll drain out the hole I drilled in his head." Donaldson said. "Goddamn, this is a thick ass manual."

"You drilled a hole in his head?" The Major asked.

"Goddamn right he did, and he did it right." Nancy said, her voice full of admiration. "I'm probably going to fuck half dead."

"I didn't have a choice." Donaldson said. "He was bleeding into his brain, it would have killed him, and God only knows how bad the bleeding tore up his brain before I relieved the pressure."

"Jesus." The Major breathed.

"Major Darson!" Someone called out.

"What, Private?" The Major asked.

"Kincaid told us that we need to gather up for a detail." Whoever it was said. "I told him that he couldn't order us around."

"Sergeant Ant told Kincaid, Shads and me what needed to be done." Donaldson said. "Christ, blah blah blah, how the fuck do I set this thing up?"

"Then you better form up into a detail if you want to get out of here, Private." The Major said. "Can't you see I'm busy with the wounded?"

"But, sir." The private started.

"Report to Specialist Kincaid for detail. Don't come back until it's done." The Major said. "He's smiling again, Donaldson."

"He can probably hear you, he's probably just cut off."

Nancy leaned forward, laying on my chest, her fingers coming up to play with the edge of my eyepatch. "Your leaking again, Ant."

"I'm all right, Nancy." I said. "Dying isn't so bad."

"You'll be all right, Sergeant." The Major said.

"You don't get to die, Ant." Nancy told me, shifting so her body weight was all on me. "I worked too hard, Taggart needs you, and Heather's put too much into you for us to let you die." She shifted a little. "Don't leave Bomber and us alone. We need you, Ant."

"Do you still have the codebooks for the doors, Major?" Donaldson asked.

In the distance I heard someone say something in a tone of voice that let me know that the person speaking was voicing a complaint. Kincaid's voice, just a snarl, came back, muted by the suit into a buzz.

The clacking of the ignitor was clear as day.

"No, they went up with the vehicles." The Major answered.

"Tell them you have a set in the ammo can marked 'horse porn'." Nancy said, hugging me gently. "It's on the floor in front of the passenger seat."

"Ammo can. Porn." I managed to get out. The horse porn thing was a joke from where someone kept bugging me about what was in the all the ammo cans during Desert Storm and Bomber had told them it was horse porn and they'd freaked right the fuck out. Bomber and I had spent 20 minutes trying not to laugh as the Master Sergeant had waved his arms around and cursed and ranted and raved at us for being degenerate perverts.

When he opened the box he found our war books, full of radio codes, callsigns, and everything else we needed, from maps to the lists of where each log base was located at.

We lost our shit when he screamed like a girl and jumped back when he saw the big ass spider we'd caught and put in the box just in case someone opened it. The sight of the camel spider jumping at him and him running around in circles had driven us into sleep deprivation fueled hysterical laughter.

Three weeks later Jumpy the Spider was killed when we'd blown up Long Haul.

Poor Jumpy.

"He said something about an ammo can full of porn." The Major said.

"You mean the one marked horse porn?" Donaldson asked, then burst into laughter a few moments later. "It's full of the code books and there's a big rubber spider with a tag that says 'Jumpy' on it. Christ, he was fucked up before the head wound."

I laughed, but it probably didn't sound good.

I could feel the strength returning to my body. The darkness was lightening up. I clenched my right fist and heard my knuckles pop.

"I think he's waking up." The Major said.

"Not dead yet." I managed to say.

The feeling of Nancy laying on my chest was fading as strength returned. She whispered my name right before the strength and feeling returned to my body. I was aware that the Major had his hand on my chest, that I was holding Martin against my stomach, and that my legs were trembling with exhaustion or just plain muscle spasms.

"No, you'll be all right, Sergeant." The Major told me.

I could see him, standing next to me. He looked grave, and a lot older than he had looked a few days ago.

Martin climbed behind my LBE belt and I held my hand up. "Held me up, sir." I pleaded. He looked doubtful but took my hand when I held it up and heaved me to a sitting position. I groaned as the movement changed the angle of my right arm and something rolled inside the joint at the same time as something stabbed into the muscles. My head swam but I was starting to feel better.

Something wet rolled down the back of my neck from my hairline.

Donaldson was standing by the control panel next to the shock absorption plug, checking the bound pages against the serial number on the panel. He'd dropped two of the books on the ground and while I watched he dropped a third and pulled the next out of the 30mm ammo can.

"Tell him to ignore the first two letter and the last two numbers, sir." I managed to rasp out. I licked my lips, but it didn't help. My canteen was on the right, and my hand didn't want to follow orders. Martin hugged me and ooked softly, and I looked down and petted between his ears with two fingers. "It's OK, Martin, I'm just thirsty."

"Sergeant Ant says to ignore the first two letters and last two numbers, Donaldson." The Major said, digging his canteen out and handing it to me. I nodded greatfully and held it between my thighs so I could twist it open. It took me a minute of fumbling, but even warm and tepid the water tasted good.

"Thanks." I croaked. The Major nodded as he took it back.

"OK, got the codebook, we'll wait for Kincaid to get back with what we need." Donaldson said.

"It's snowing again." One of the Privates said.

shit