Even Zombie Killers Get The Blues (Zombie Killer Blues) by John Holmes
Authors: John Holmes
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the horn.
“Lost Boys, what is your current food,
water and ammunition status, over?”
“Empire, we are at about one day of rations and twenty-five
percent on ammo. Maybe less, over.”
I waited for an acknowledgement. Nothing came.
“Empire, Empire, this is Lost Boys, over.” I
repeated this three times. No answer.
OK, sometimes commo goes down. America was still
pretty screwed up. A lot of crap we were using was dragged out of prepositioned
stores sitting on a ship off Diego Garcia or something. Not the newest, top of
the line stuff. Still, it was a little unsettling. I gathered the guys around.
“Here’s the situation. No coms, no helo. I trust
this guy, the TF Empire commander, as far as I can spit. What do you think?”
Doc advised that we wait for later tonight, see if
we could get commo up then. Ahmed had nothing to say. Jonesy was of the opinion
LTC Jackass was setting us up for failure.
“Nick, that sumbitch has had it out for you ever
since you countermanded that order he gave outside Saint Johnsville, when he
wanted to level that village with artillery and you were convinced that there
were civvies living there. You made him look bad, and this whole pissing in his
pants thing over at the prison. That dude don’t like you nothing at all.”
“Jonesy, he may be an asshole but he’s still an
Officer in the US Army. He can’t just leave us out here high and dry.”
“Wanna bet? I seen plenty of mothers like him in
prison. Always out for himself, and if you make them look bad, they gonna stick
a shiv in you fast as they can.”
“OK, well, we’ll try to call in tonight. Meanwhile,
let’s put some mileage between us and Whitehall, try to find a place to lay up
for the night.”
We had jogged a kilometer or so down the road when
we heard a ripping sound, followed by a POP, then a rumbling series of
explosions that knocked us all to the ground. Or it would have, if we hadn’t
all dove to the ground the second we heard the rocket coming in.
A Multiple Launch Rocket System, or at least the battery
at Fort Orange, fires the MGM-140A - Block I rocket. It has an unguided range
of roughly one hundred kilometers and carries almost a thousand antipersonnel
bomblettes, each about the size and explosive power of a hand grenade. The
explosions leveled the entire center of town, including the lock area where we
had been standing less than twenty minutes before.
I stood up after a few minutes and looked at the
cloud of dust and smoke rising behind us.
“That sonofabitch.”
Chapter 23
We all stood, watching the dust settle. Well,
Jonesy, Doc and I stood and watched. Ahmed continued to scan the area.
“Pretty impressive, no?” asked Ahmed, though his
eyes never left the surrounding trees. “None of you have ever been on the wrong
side of American artillery before. You should try being in a cave while it
detonates directly overhead. I have seen men go insane.”
His comments shook us out of our stupor.
“OK, well, um, oh fuck,” I said.
“Yeah, that about sums it up, Nick. Where to now,
fearless leader?” Doc hunched down on the ground, pouring water into an MRE
heater.
“Well, I can think of one place we’re going to wind
up eventually.”
“Yep, back at Fort Orange.”
“It’s going to be a bitch to sneak in there.”
“We’re not going to sneak in there. We’re going to
walk in there in the middle of the night, just like we we’re coming back from a
mission. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it. Meanwhile, we have to
get through the next couple of days. We have a few hours of daylight left. Our
first objective is to go back to the prison, see if there is anything we can scrounge
from there. At the least there has to be water, and we might be able to get
some useable ammo.”
“What about getting our packs back?”
“I doubt, after what just dropped down on them, we
would find anything useable. Plus, you know there is probably unexploded
ordnance lying
“Lost Boys, what is your current food,
water and ammunition status, over?”
“Empire, we are at about one day of rations and twenty-five
percent on ammo. Maybe less, over.”
I waited for an acknowledgement. Nothing came.
“Empire, Empire, this is Lost Boys, over.” I
repeated this three times. No answer.
OK, sometimes commo goes down. America was still
pretty screwed up. A lot of crap we were using was dragged out of prepositioned
stores sitting on a ship off Diego Garcia or something. Not the newest, top of
the line stuff. Still, it was a little unsettling. I gathered the guys around.
“Here’s the situation. No coms, no helo. I trust
this guy, the TF Empire commander, as far as I can spit. What do you think?”
Doc advised that we wait for later tonight, see if
we could get commo up then. Ahmed had nothing to say. Jonesy was of the opinion
LTC Jackass was setting us up for failure.
“Nick, that sumbitch has had it out for you ever
since you countermanded that order he gave outside Saint Johnsville, when he
wanted to level that village with artillery and you were convinced that there
were civvies living there. You made him look bad, and this whole pissing in his
pants thing over at the prison. That dude don’t like you nothing at all.”
“Jonesy, he may be an asshole but he’s still an
Officer in the US Army. He can’t just leave us out here high and dry.”
“Wanna bet? I seen plenty of mothers like him in
prison. Always out for himself, and if you make them look bad, they gonna stick
a shiv in you fast as they can.”
“OK, well, we’ll try to call in tonight. Meanwhile,
let’s put some mileage between us and Whitehall, try to find a place to lay up
for the night.”
We had jogged a kilometer or so down the road when
we heard a ripping sound, followed by a POP, then a rumbling series of
explosions that knocked us all to the ground. Or it would have, if we hadn’t
all dove to the ground the second we heard the rocket coming in.
A Multiple Launch Rocket System, or at least the battery
at Fort Orange, fires the MGM-140A - Block I rocket. It has an unguided range
of roughly one hundred kilometers and carries almost a thousand antipersonnel
bomblettes, each about the size and explosive power of a hand grenade. The
explosions leveled the entire center of town, including the lock area where we
had been standing less than twenty minutes before.
I stood up after a few minutes and looked at the
cloud of dust and smoke rising behind us.
“That sonofabitch.”
Chapter 23
We all stood, watching the dust settle. Well,
Jonesy, Doc and I stood and watched. Ahmed continued to scan the area.
“Pretty impressive, no?” asked Ahmed, though his
eyes never left the surrounding trees. “None of you have ever been on the wrong
side of American artillery before. You should try being in a cave while it
detonates directly overhead. I have seen men go insane.”
His comments shook us out of our stupor.
“OK, well, um, oh fuck,” I said.
“Yeah, that about sums it up, Nick. Where to now,
fearless leader?” Doc hunched down on the ground, pouring water into an MRE
heater.
“Well, I can think of one place we’re going to wind
up eventually.”
“Yep, back at Fort Orange.”
“It’s going to be a bitch to sneak in there.”
“We’re not going to sneak in there. We’re going to
walk in there in the middle of the night, just like we we’re coming back from a
mission. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it. Meanwhile, we have to
get through the next couple of days. We have a few hours of daylight left. Our
first objective is to go back to the prison, see if there is anything we can scrounge
from there. At the least there has to be water, and we might be able to get
some useable ammo.”
“What about getting our packs back?”
“I doubt, after what just dropped down on them, we
would find anything useable. Plus, you know there is probably unexploded
ordnance lying
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