Marine Summer: Year 2041 (14 page)

“Keep your eyes closed, rookie, and—you just—might—not—puke!” Boom jested.

We were latched face down underneath a V-42 Super-Osprey, only a few feet from the non-skid surface of the catapult flight deck. The bird was hooked up and aimed at the hangar doors in the side of the mountain.

“Why can’t we ride inside like normal people?” Brains complained.

“Because we aren’t normal, we’re Marines!” Motown stated proudly.

Two Ospreys abreast, three Suits per plane. It was me, Bob, and Hunter on the right, the others securely fastened underneath the other bird on the left.

“Lock those Suits into place; nobody wants any unnecessary road rash,” Hunter’s voice said over the comms.

“Um…sir?” I called to Hunter.

“Um…what? Playtime’s over. Suck it up, buttercup, we’re about to go flying. Shut your pie-hole and enjoy the ride!”

“But sir?”

“What the fuck is so damn important, Butler? What is your major malfunction?”

“Hunter, sir, how high up are we?” I asked curiously. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was afraid of heights.

“You’ll see in just a few seconds.”

Three red round spheres appeared across the hud inside my helmet. Rita’s voice started counting down, “Launch in 3,” the sphere on the left turned green. “2—1—takeoff.”

The now brightly lit green spheres faded as the Osprey shot off through the hangar like a bullet leaving a gun. The abrasive surface of the nonskid deck turned to a black haze in under a second as we instantly accelerated. The sound of the steam pressure releasing the catapult cable pulling us forward was so loud I could hear it inside my helmet.

And then, my stomach sank as the aircraft left the hangar. It was like the bottom had fallen out from under us. A few seconds of weightlessness set in as the plane dipped down, establishing flight under its own power. Our point of view went from a few feet to a few thousand feet.

“Oh shit!” I said, short of breath.

“Don’t you lose your cookies, Butler! That is an order!” Hunter said.

“Yes si…” was all I could get out before Rita opened my helmet and the remains of last night’s beer drinking found their way into the bright blue sky.

“Oh what a pussy,” Hunter said. “Hunter to Motown, boy wonder’s first flight is a failure.”

“Copy that Hunter, but as I recall, with the exception of Bob, we all puked on our first flight,” he sniggered.

That’s comforting to know. At least I’m not the only one.

“All right, cut the grab-assing. Things are about to get serious. We’re two clicks from our LZ. Weapons ready!”

“Rita, arm weapons,” I ordered the suit.

“Weapons armed,” she complied.

The plane banked right and dove into a valley, following the lead plane.

“Butler! When we give the command to release, adjust your flight so that you’re angled feet first. The moment your feet hit the deck, tuck into a ball and roll. When you start to slow down, dig your arm into some dirt and use it as a brake. Copy?” Motown instructed.

“Sir, won’t that kill me?”

“If you weren’t wearing a Suit…I’d say yes!”

“The chosen one, my ass,” Hunter taunted me.

I wonder what all this ‘chosen’ stuff means. I wish they’d fill me in on what I’m chosen for.

“All right, boys and girls, please put your tray tables in the upright position and…release!” Hunter said, releasing first. His Suit flew effortlessly through the air.

Everybody else released and dropped like rocks being thrown off a bridge.

“How do I release!” I screamed. “Rita, release!”

Looking down, I could see that Motown had already touched down and was skidding to a stop, with Hunter close behind.

“Drop, Butler!” Motown shouted.

“It’s not releasing! What do I do?”

“Were you asleep during pre-flight? Pull the damn straps above your head!”

Two black straps were fluttering in the wind above me, both within arm’s reach. I admit my head was foggy this morning, I only concentrated in getting water into my system as they went over the briefing. I was ashamed and humbled by my own failure to pay attention.

Reaching up, I pulled the straps, and before I knew it I was floating in the air. It seemed like I was actually hurtling toward the earth at breakneck speed. In my confusion, I forgot to get myself into the correct position.

“Get turned around or you’re going to crash!” Motown screamed out over the comms.

At this point, as I nosedived toward Mother Earth I realized that flapping my arms, I could not fly. None of the motions I attempted managed to right my course. I needed to think fast. I took the ax from my hip and cast it. I slung it from behind my head toward my feet, using the momentum to flip over. It almost worked.

“He’s toast,” I heard Boom say.

Landing near the end of the clearing, my backpack was the first part of me to make contact with the ground. Instead of tucking and rolling neatly like the others had, I toppled head over heels, skipping over the difficult terrain. Instead of digging my arm into the ground to slow myself down, I was aided by a few mature trees as I flew into the woods, bouncing around like a steel pinball crashing into the bumpers.

“Damn!” Brains said.

“He’s done for,” Boom chimed in.

Even I thought I was dead; the plasma gel layer that was supposed to protect my fragile human body couldn’t adjust to all the bumps and impacts of the trees.

“Rita, damage report,” I said, wheezing. I felt like I had a few broken ribs as I lay in a pile of rubble I had created.

“Suit armor at eighty-eight percent, releasing nano-bots for repair procedure.”

Awe great, these little fuckers now
.

As the bots patched me up, the team made their way over to me. Bob was the first to report.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” I responded, humiliated that my first exercise had started off so poorly.

“I’ve got him; target my location,” she said over the comms. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” I gasped.

Soon all the rest of them appeared, bounding in over the debris.

“Well we know what your name is now,” Boom said. “It’s definitely ‘Crash.’ Yeah, it’s got to be Crash.”

“Crash Test Dummy gets my vote,” Brains said.

“That’s enough!” Motown cut them off. “As much as I’d like to fuck with him right now, this is still a training exercise. We will perform in a military manner. Butler, are you okay?”

“Yes sir, I’ll be fine.”

“Good. We’ve got twenty clicks to our first camp. Hunter you take point, Bob back him up. Boom, you got the middle with me. Butler, you’re in the back with Brains. Make sure you two are watching our six!”

With marching orders in hand, we proceeded through the valley. Formation was spread out about thirty meters between us.

“Banished to the back of the bus, I see. You know, back in Civil War times, the soldiers that were considered worthless or lazy were banished to the back of the wagon train to ride with the chow wagon. Hence, jack-wagon. Welcome to my world,” Brains said chuckling.

“Wait, but you’re not a fuckup,” I said.

“I know, but this is the first time I’ve ever had company. You might want to step up your game a little, if you catch my drift.”

I didn’t like that. I had fought to be here, I wanted to be here, and I didn’t want to be at the back of the line looking forward.

“Rita, silent comms.”

“Silent comms, go Drew Butler.”

“Check hydration levels,” I instructed her, as medical levels didn’t appear in my hud readings unless it was a combat situation.

“Hydration at sixty-five percent. Should I administer IV procedure?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. IV procedure initiated.”

I felt the nano-bots insert themselves into my left arm. There was a little sting at first when they broke my skin, but I was going to deal with it and not show any more weakness.

The first leg of the exercise was no-frills, Command had nothing set up to test us, and I assumed the airdrop was enough for a first day.

As we reached the first camp, the muffled sound of incoming Ospreys sounded in the distance. Two black dots appeared in the distance, getting larger as they advanced toward our position.

“Here comes dinner. Boom, pop some smoke,” Motown ordered.

Boom lifted his left arm up. A small, dark nozzle protruded out of his index finger, blooming red smoke up into the air as he ran in the helicopters’ direction. As the Ospreys came into full view, six ammo caches and one crate parachuted down, landing about a click south of our position.

“You stay here with Brains,” Motown instructed, I could tell in his tone he was annoyed with my current performance. I felt like a child banished to the kids’ table at Thanksgiving dinner.

“Shake it off, kid, you’ll get better,” Brains tried to console me. “My first jump wasn’t what I’d call…remarkable either.”

I watched as they retrieved the caches, the strength of their Suits on full display. I wanted to jump in and help, carry my own weight, but I felt like the odd man out.

“Get out of your suit,” Hunter said, pointing to my cache as he sat it down.

Putting my back to the cache, I felt it couple, docking me in. I gave the command to Rita to release me, opening the chest armor so that I could escape, climbing upward out of the chest cavity. But no sooner had I set foot back on the ground than a message came from Command. Motown took it privately as we all stood by waiting.

“Suit back up!” he said.

“What’s up?” Hunter asked.

“We have some unwelcome visitors in the vicinity.”

“How many?” Boom asked.

“Don’t know, but rest assured we’re gonna find out,” Motown answered as his Suit closed.

“Look alive, people! This is not a drill!” Hunter said.

“Fuckin’ A, we haven’t seen any action in six months. Let’s do this shit!” Bob said as she disengaged her rifle from her chest, petting it like she was holding a brand new kitten.

“Kid, you’re in the back. You do not engage by any means. You are just an observer at this point. Stay on Brain’s six and don’t fuck up; where he goes you go. Copy?” Motown said, his hand clanging against my shoulder armor as he patted it.

“Yes, sir,” I said, my disappointment hidden by the digital voice.

“Brains, tune in to Command and lock down their last known coordinates. Two clicks out, we’ll engage camo. Nobody fires. This is strictly recon. That’s an order!” Motown said.

“I got ’em, northeast, twenty clicks. I’m sure they saw our birds and might be heading this way,” Brains said.

“Copy that. You and the new guy hit the crest of those mountains. We’ll need an eye in the sky. Hunter, you take point. Let’s move it out!”

Climbing up the mountain was a cinch; fighting my fear of heights was not. I focused on not falling as Brains strolled on like it was nothing, his eyes mainly focused on the computer that jutted out from his chest armor.

“Brains to Motown, setting up grid now,” he said as a small compartment opened from his pack. A small clear drone hovered out and set course over the valley to our right. Light green lines appeared beneath it as it masked the rest of our team, covering a radius of a few kilometers.

“Hey, won’t that give away their position?” I asked.

“Open your shield, genius,” he laughed.

With my shield up, I couldn’t see the grid; it had vanished.

“You can only see it through your hud. Now if a bad guy enters our little dome of protection, he’ll appear to be a fuzzy red cartoon character. Those are the ones we want to kill, the red guys.”

It wouldn’t take very long before Hunter spotted a roving patrol.

“Camo on now,” his voice said over the comms.

Following Brain’s lead, I hunkered down against the mountain peak, fascinated as the Suit mimicked the rock wall to our backs. His helmet turned blue to match the spring sky as his head poked above the peak’s highest point.

“Now what?” I whispered inside my helmet.

“We wait. Why are you whispering?” Brains mocked me. “They can’t hear us, the helmet blocks all sound from exiting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know,”

“Shut it you two!” Hunter said. “Keep moving that drone, unhide them, and show me their positions.”

“On it,” Brains complied.

As the drone silently flew past the patrol, red blips started appearing. I counted twenty, plus the remains of a downed aircraft appearing in the back of a gully.

“Sitting ducks,” Motown said.

“Uh-oh, they’re on the move. And headed right at you,” Brains informed them.

“Out of sight, out of mind. Take cover in the thick foliage and let them pass,” Motown said.

We continued watching as the team took sides, putting the first patrol of four in a cross-fire situation. Brains moved the drone to follow their path.