Outbreak: Long Road Back (8 page)

“Hey, Frays.” he said a warm smile spreading across his face as he moved just a touch closer to the woman’s side. The expression faded quickly when he managed to get Frays to make eye contact with him. A cold chill ran down his spine. “How did the checkup go? Is everything okay, Frays?”

“What? Oh, yeah!” a nervous little titter escaped her mouth. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “The kid’s doing great. Thanks for asking.” Frays swallowed hard and looked around, trying to avoid eye contact. “Just great.”

There was something in the way Tom looked at her that said he did not quite believe her. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” he said quietly moving just that much closer to Amy’s side. The medic waved down the hall he had come from. “You wanna see your brother for a minute? He’s right down the hall there. Carl’s doing pretty good but we’re gonna keep him another day or two just to make sure.”

Frays glanced at her watch. It would not be too far out of her way and she could just stick her head in to make sure he was alright… “Cool, thanks.” She turned and started down the hall hoping that the man was not going to follow her. Frays rolled her eyes when she heard the man’s sneakers on the rubberized tiles behind her. “I can find it myself. The place isn’t that big.” Frays said a little harder than she really meant to.

“Oh, yeah.” Tom said quietly with a small uneasy laugh. Frays could hear the disappointment in the man’s voice and she could have kicked herself. “I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll catch you at lunch or whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Frays grumbled. She ducked into her brother’s room and was greeted with a miracle. Carl sat up reading a familiar looking copy of
The Hobbit
even though it looked like he had a big old eggplant stuck to the side of his face. She crossed the room in two quick strides and hugged him tight. “Hey, you idiot. How are you?”

“Mmm. Kay.” Carl mumbled around the swelling in his face. He looked frustrated for a second then pointed at his sister and the lump in her belly. It took Frays a minute to figure out what he meant then she smiled and laughed.

“I’m fine. Just had a checkup and had to get my vitamins and stuff.” she said quietly. Frays took her brother’s hand and held it tight. “Just had an ultrasound. The little guy’s healthy as a horse. I can’t really stay so I’m gonna get going. I’ll let Frannie know you’re up for visitors the next time I see her, alright?”

Frays stopped a few doors down from her brother’s room and leaned against the wall. It was so good to see Carl doing so much better after only a day or so… She made the sign of the cross, took the Saint Joan’s medal from under her shirt and kissed it before folding her hands.
Thank you, Saint Joan for looking after my brother.
Frays thought quickly
He’s kind of an idiot but he’s a good kid. If he really wants to be like Dad I guess I could let him. Just…if you can spare the time…keep an eye on us please…

“Okay, Privates.” Sergeant Hanes said to the line of men and women standing in the small grassy area inside the perimeter of the Security Forces building. “This” he waved a hand towards Frays, who stood off to one side behind him “is Sergeant Frays. She’s gonna teach you civilian pukes how to shoot like genuine United States Marines. Now…she’s Air Force but don’t hold that against her.” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman. “Frays?”

She could not help but feel a little pleased with herself. Sergeant Hanes had pinned E-5 rank on her less than half an hour ago and told her that she was now officially assigned to the training cadre. Her job was going to be to teach Basic Rifle Marksmanship to the trainees. Part of her could not help but object to Hanes’ statement that she was going to teach them to shoot like Marines but she mentally shrugged it off.

Sergeant Frays took a moment to size up the eight men and two women standing in front of her. There was a big white kid named Mike Hubbard that looked like he could play a decent game of football. A skinny little rabbit of a black man with a bad case of acne named James Buckley. William Robles made her kind of nervous. He looked like he would enjoy using the huge bayonet attached to their carbines a little more than was healthy. Zach Rowe was a squat little olive skinned guy that kind of reminded her of a Sontaran from
Doctor Who
. The thought almost made her laugh. Ben Sharpe was a bean pole of a guy with a shaggy head of red hair. Steve Parker was an Italian looking guy with black hair a big bushy mustache. The guy next to him was Bobby Pittman, a big guy with biker tattoos running from under the sleeves of his tee shirt to his wrists. Johnny Chang looked like an extra from a Vietnam War movie with his battered carbine slung over his shoulder.

The two women were named Joanne Stark and Stacie Grimes. Stark was a blonde in ratty jeans and a grey tank top. She had an older style Combat Lifesaver bag slung across her chest. Frays had heard that she had been a medic in a National Guard unit from some place down south. Grimes was a chunky (well as chunky as anyone was these days) brunette. She looked like she had never held a gun before in her life let alone fired one. Somebody said she was from Manhattan which explained that as far as Frays was concerned. 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Frays said. She stood up strait, trying to make as much of an impression as her five foot six inch pregnant frame could. “I’m gonna teach you guys how to shoot.” she said in a loud clear voice. “First thing first we’re gonna clean your rifles and make sure we got all that grease off them and everything. It’s real easy. The Soviets built their rifles to be used by anybody too fat, drunk or stupid to get out of the way when the recruiter’s trucks rolled up so I think you guys can handle it.”

Sergeant Frays first showed the eight men and two women how to field strip and clean their SKS carbines which did not take long thanks to the simplicity of Russian engineering. Major Tennyson had apparently picked her after the meeting in his office the other day due to her experience training some Iraqi Military Police while on deployment. Frays found herself grateful that these new trainees at least spoke English as it made the job much easier. She also most likely would not have to worry about one of the students jumping up in the middle of a lecture and shouting ‘Allah ur Akbar!’ before blowing himself up. And for the first time since she came here Frays felt like she was contributing which was a definite plus.

The rest of the morning was spent showing the recruits getting more comfortable with their weapons and going over the fundamentals: sight picture, trigger squeeze, steady position and controlling your breathing. Frays ran them through the Dime Drill, having the Trainees pair off and practice dry firing their weapons while balancing a dime on the carbine’s barrel. The point of the exercise was to fire the weapon without making the coin fall off.

Frays had them break for lunch around noon when PFC Brooks brought a case of MREs to them. Sergeant Hanes handed Frays one of the two remaining meal packets after the trainees had gotten their food. “How you think they’re doing?” the man asked as they sat down in a little bit of shade towards the back of the building.

“Not bad.” Frays said as she tore open her MRE and dug into what the writing on the outside claimed was beef enchiladas. The woman frowned and sprinkled the packet of salt over the pasty foodlike substance. “I don’t think any of them would be here right now if they couldn’t shoot so there’s a plus there.” She finished a mouthful of the enchilada and frowned again. “Can I have your salt, Sergeant?”

The man obliged with a grin. Sergeant Hanes took off his Kevlar and wolfed down a foil packet of peach chunks. “My sister in Jacksonville had weird cravings when she was pregnant with my niece.” he said with a wistful little smile as he watched the trainees swapping parts of their meals like kids in the schoolyard. “She used to
love
bacon and peanut butter sandwiches. Did you ever even hear of such a thing?”

Even the mention of greasy fried pork made Frays’ stomach pop a wheelie. “Ew! That’s gross.” she said and smiled as she mixed a little water into the cocoa powder packet she discovered near the bottom of her meal. “I wish I could have bacon. Pork tastes like it’s made out of soap or something.”

“Well that’s great. More for the rest of us.” Hanes gave the woman a good natured jab with his elbow and set to work trying to eat the tarry Ranger Bar they insisted was good for you but always felt to him like he would lose a tooth trying to chew. Frays handed him a little foil envelope of Powdered Beverage, Orange Flavor which he accepted and dumped into one of his one quart canteens. “I think I’d step over my own mom for a pulled pork sandwich about now.” the man grumbled and took a swig of the watery beverage.

Frays’ lips practically disappeared into her mouth for a moment. “It’s about time we got them back at it.” she grumbled as she forced herself to her feet and dusted her bottom off. “We’re burning daylight, right?”

Sergeant Hanes blinked then threw a glance over his shoulder at the trainees. “Shit, did I say somethin’ wrong?” he asked, shifting the woman away from the rest of the group a little bit. He swallowed hard and shrugged slightly and looked back at the trainees again.

The woman let out a long breath through her nose. “No, it’s cool. I lost my mom and dad a few weeks ago.” Frays muttered sharply. The woman shifted her gear around and tried to make it ride more comfortably. She noticed that the trigger guard of her M203 was starting to rub against her son and she made a mental note to check and make sure she was getting any sores or blisters or anything like that.

Hanes nodded sadly. “I’m sorry.” the big man muttered. That seemed to explain a little of Frays’ behavior he had noticed in the brief time he had gotten to know her. He sighed and nodded towards the recruits then collected their trash. “Ready to go?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon running the trainees through loading, unloading and misfire procedures as well as basic range safety. Sergeant Hanes would teaching them how to use the intimidating looking bayonet bolted onto their carbines tomorrow morning while Frays was making sure the range was set up and ready to go. After that they would go to Supply and get the trainees something resembling uniforms and boots before lunch. Tomorrow afternoon would be classes on tactical movement, hand signals as well as radio communications. The trainees would be making a patrol of the perimeter until well after dark. The class would bivouac near the range that night and march over in the morning.

The challenge was to try and cram thirteen weeks of training into two and a half. It was going to be hard on everybody, both the instructors and the students, but Frays was certain that they would come through alright. After all you had to be a pretty tough son of a buck to make it this far already.     

They were practicing loading the carbines in a hurry using stripper clips full of dummy rounds when Private Grimes fumbled her carbine while attempting to cram the metal strip holding the ammunition into the slot on the weapon’s receiver. Sergeant Hanes was on her like a dog on a dropped hamburger. “What the fuck was that, Private?” the man demanded as Grimes tried to recover the weapon and instead dropped it a second time. “Aw what the fuck!? Do some goddamn pushups, pusbag!”

Hubbard snorted. “She’s so fat she sweats melted butter.” he said quietly, making Pittman and Rowe laugh quietly behind their hands. Frays stomped up to the three of them the aura of fury the woman exuded making the three larger men stop laughing and look around guiltily.

“What was so funny, Hubbard?” Frays demanded hotly as she glowered up at the man. “C’mon, Private. I like a good joke. Tell me. What. Was. So. Funny?” It took everything she had to not crack a smile as the big guy gawped and looked at his friends, his brain obviously misfiring when confronted by a tiny and furious pregnant lady. Frays shook her head slightly. “Fine, don’t wanna share? Do some pushups too.” She looked around at the rest of the trainees. “Heck, I’m feeling generous today.
Everybody
can do some pushups!”

Frays could not miss the looks the trainees gave both her and Hubbard as she made them do pushups by cadence. “ONE!” Frays shouted and the trainees lowered themselves to the ground their chests almost touching the carbines resting on the backs of their hands. Frays waited a long three count before shouting “TWO!” and letting the trainees push complete the first half of the exercise. “You’re a team, guys. You go outside that wire your life is going to depend on whoever’s standing to your left and right. You all should know that by now.”

Hanes stood back barely holding back a smirk as he watched Frays smoke the group of trainees. He could not help but be amused by how quickly this quiet, sweet tempered little woman seemed to turn into a fire breathing tack chewing hardass in the matter of a few seconds. It was just about the funniest thing he had seen since coming here watching Frays smoke the shit out of the kids. When a couple of them almost faceplanted on their carbines he nodded subtly to Frays who ordered the trainees to their feet.

“Now that we’ve hopefully learned our lesson…” Hanes said as he walked slowly around the group of trainees. “Let’s carry on with the exercise. Break off by fire teams and let’s go. We’re burning daylight here.”

It was almost dark by the time Frays and Hanes decided to pack it in for the day and march the trainees over to the chow tent. The two of them were standing at the back of the group and let their charges file through the door ahead of them when Frays felt a tap on her shoulder. Lacey stood there with Paulie and Becca by their father’s side. The little girl beamed a smile up at Frays and leapt into the woman’s arms.