The Lost Journal Part 2 (A Secret Apocalypse Story) (17 page)

He
held my gaze as he walked towards the body of the child. He fired a shot at point
blank range into the forehead. The sniper rifle had a suppressor fixed to the
barrel but the noise of the gunshot was still pretty loud.

"Poor
bastard had been bitten," he said. "He had minutes. Maybe less."

The
world, the street, began to spin around in my head. My mind was swirling with
the red dust. Jack was speechless. He still had his hands in the air.

"You
better come inside," the soldier said. "Noise is bad."

"Who
are you?" I asked "What’s your name?"

"Introductions
come later. When we’re inside. Not safe on the streets."

Broken

We followed the soldier into the school. He led us down a set of stairs into a
storage basement. He locked the door behind us and tied a chain around the
handle. He told us to be quiet.

"The
only way to stay alive in this messed up city is to be quiet," he said. "Do you
understand me? You two punks give away our position one more time and I will
cut you and leave you for the monsters."

I
was about to argue with him and say that we didn’t give away anyone’s position
but then I thought better of it.

And
then the soldier completely disregarded his own advice.

"Hey
Sarge!" the soldier yelled.

This
was our first warning that this guy wasn’t completely sane. We should’ve turned
around right then and there. We should’ve run away as fast as possible. But we
didn’t. I guess we really were in a state of shock.

"Sarge!
You won’t believe it, man. I found a couple of survivors!"

What
the hell happened to being quiet? What happened to not giving away our position?

"Should
you be yelling like that?" I asked.

Jack
looked at me; he was nodding his head back towards the doorway. He wanted to
get the hell out.

Looking
back, he was right. We should’ve got the hell out of there. But I needed to ask
these guys a few questions. What were they doing here? What were their orders?
Did they know anything about the military’s plans? Did they know anything about
the dust storm? Could they organize a rescue for Maria?

We
had walked to the opposite side of the storage room. The room was filled with
desks and chairs and gym mats and other assorted sports equipment. There were
windows located high up on the walls that allowed for some light, but because
of the dust storm it was still fairly dark.

Sitting
on the concrete ground, leaning against a stack of gym mats was another
soldier.

"Sarge?
What the hell, man? What are you doing?"

The
soldier kicked the Sergeant in the leg, waking him up.

The
Sergeant raised his head slowly. "What is it?" he whispered.

"You’re
not gonna believe this," he said as he pointed his rifle at Jack and I. "I
found a couple of survivors. Not infected or nothing." He then looked at us.
"You guys aren’t sick are you?"

"No,
sir," Jack said.

The
Sergeant stood up slowly. He was leaning against the stack of gym mats for
support. He appeared to be weak and lethargic. I should’ve known he was
infected. But it was dark down in that basement. And I was still in a state of
shock.

"What
are you guys doing here?" I asked them.

"Recon
assignment," the Sergeant answered.

"Recon?
What do you mean? The rest of the military has fallen back. You guys are alone
in here."

The
Sergeant still had his head lowered. "That’s the way we like it. That’s how
we’ve always operated."

"Yeah,
man," the other soldier said. "Don’t you know nothing about Force Recon? You
are a soldier, right? You didn’t just steal that uniform did ya?"

"No.
I just…"

The
soldier waved me off. "Whatever man. Hey Sarge, you owe me a Coke. You said
there was no survivors left. You said everyone was dead. You owe me."

The
soldier was still talking extremely loud. And to make matters worse his voice
was bouncing off the walls of the basement.

"Can
you lower your voice, please?" Jack said.

"Or
what? What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing.
I just think that…"

"You
think I’m gonna give away our position? You think I’m that stupid."

"No,
I didn’t say that."

The
soldier drew his sidearm and fired it directly at Jack in one swift motion. My
heart skipped a beat. There was no time to react. No time.

Jack
instinctively ducked. The bullet missed him and smashed into the concrete wall
of the basement.

I
raised my rifle. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

The
solider held his hand up. "Relax, man. I missed on purpose. It was just a
warning shot."

"You’ve
got to be kidding."

Jack
was patting himself down. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He
couldn’t believe he wasn’t hurt.

"Stand
down," the Sergeant said to his soldier.

"Sarge,
come on man. It’s cool. I found survivors. It’s gonna be OK."

I
kept my rifle pointed directly at the soldier’s head.

"Stand
down," the Sergeant repeated. "You need to be quiet. This place will be
crawling with sick people soon."

"Nah
Sarge, I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t put us in danger. I’m better than that.
I’m a goddamn Force Recon Marine. Semper Fi. I will not let you down, sir."

The
Sergeant seemed to regain some composure then. He spat saliva on to the ground.
Although I suppose it could’ve been blood. It was too dark to see clearly. He
took a few deep breaths. He stood up straight.

Jack
had finally come to terms with the fact that someone had a fired a gun at him. He
was now standing further back, he was holding on to his rifle. He was holding
on tight.

I
was getting this weird vibe, like we were about to get into a shoot out.
Everything was sort of happening in slow motion. This guy was proving to be
unpredictable and dangerous.

We
should not have gone down into that basement.

"Where
did you guys come from?" the Sergeant asked.

"We’ve
been hiding for the past couple of weeks," I said. "We’ve been keeping low."

"Has
it been that long?" he asked.

"What
do you mean?"

"We
were inserted into the city with a large force. We got separated. We were
ordered to dig in. Engage any hostiles. Enforce the containment protocol and
wait for an extraction."

"Yeah
man," the soldier said. "We must’ve killed at least a thousand of those sick
psychopaths. And maybe a couple hundred civilians. But you know, the civvies
were probably infected as well, right?"

I
ignored the crazy soldier. "Where have you been getting your supplies from?" I
asked. "Where have you been getting your ammunition from?"

"We
were dropped in here with enough supplies to last us a long time," the Sergeant
said.

"Is
that your Humvee out the front of the school?"

"Nah,
we found that bad boy," the crazy soldier answered. "Haven’t had a chance to
test out the 50 cal yet. Thinking about taking it into the city center and letting
it rip. You guys want in?"

"What?"

"Do
you want to come with me and shoot sick people?"

"No.
We can’t," Jack said. "We need to get out of here. Do you guys have a radio?"

"Nah
man. We lost it."

"You
lost it?"

"Yeah.
Doesn’t matter anyways. The damn thing was busted. We tried calling for an evac
but there was no response. So yeah, it was definitely busted."

I’m
not sure if this guy was just stupid or if he was in shock or if he was just
bat crap insane. Maybe a combination of all three. But he didn’t seem to
realize the severity of his situation. Somehow he had survived. He had been
left behind by his superiors in an extremely hostile environment. He had been
written off as collateral damage.

And
yet here he was. Alive and breathing.

"Look,
I don’t know how to say this," I said as calmly as possible. "You guys have
been left behind. The military is using you as a diversion, a distraction."

"What
the hell are you saying?"

"I’m
saying you guys are bait. You have been left here to distract the infected
while the rest of the military falls back."

The
Sergeant sat back down against the gym mats. We should’ve shot him right then
and there.

"Nah
man. You got it all wrong. We’re here on a recon mission. We’re the goddamn
eyes on the ground. We’re coordinating air strikes. We’re taking care of
business."

"Oh
yeah? How long since you spoke to command? When was the last time you
coordinated anything?"

The
soldier thought about it for a second. His face went blank.

He
shook his head. "Nah. You’re wrong."

He
didn’t want to believe me.

"Trust
me," I said. "I was in Woomera. I was left behind. I’ve been through this all
before."

"Woomera?
Nah, man. They nuked Woomera."

I
kept trying to tell him he’d been left behind but he didn’t want to hear it. He
didn’t want to believe me.

"Nah,
they’ll be back," he said. "We were inserted here to do a goddamn job. We were
ordered to hold this section. This is important. We need…"

"Wake
up! They’re not coming back!"

He
thought it over again. He was biting his bottom lip.

I
looked back at the door to the basement. It was locked and chained shut. Even
if we made a run for it, we wouldn’t be able to open the door in time.

The
soldier’s eyes were flicking back and forth. He was thinking this through. He
was coming to grips with reality. "Command has been quiet," he whispered. "We
lost contact. No word. No re-supply. Nothing."

He
kicked the Sergeant in the leg again. "So we’re alone?" he asked. "We’ve been
abandoned?"

"I’m
sorry," I said.

He
raised his sidearm and aimed it right at my head. "Drop your rifle, man."

"Whoa.
There’s no need for this. We can work together."

"I
said, drop your rifle!"

I
reluctantly did as he instructed.

He
then reached inside his shirt and ripped off his dog tags from around his neck
and threw them away. "You too," he said to Jack. "Drop it!"

Jack
placed his rifle on the ground slowly.

"You
know, I think I knew," he said. "Yeah, I knew. I just didn’t want to admit it,
you know? Yeah, that’s it. I knew all along. I’m not an idiot. I did it for
Sarge. I was strong for Sarge. You gotta do it for the man standing next to
you. You know what I’m saying?"

"Yeah.
I get that," I said. "We understand. But you don’t need to freak out on us. You
can lower your gun as well."

"Freak
out? Who said anything about freaking out?"

He
was yelling again. He was practically screaming at the top of his lungs.

We
needed to get out of here. It’s like we had stumbled into a spider’s web or
something.

We
were trapped.

In
a basement.

With
a mad man. A heavily armed mad man.

"Last
week I was calling in air strikes," he continued. "The military had herded
people into certain areas of the city. Everyone was following the evac routes;
everyone was walking to the safe zones. It made everything so easy. You might
think these people were innocent. And yeah when you really think about it, I
guess you’d be right. I mean, sure they were innocent. But that doesn’t change
the fact that they were carrying a deadly virus and spreading a deadly virus.
They needed to die. There was no other way to control the spread of infection.
Could you call the strike in? You think you’re strong enough to order the
deaths of all those people? You ain’t strong. You’re a nobody!"

"It’s
OK," I said, desperately trying to calm him down. "We’re not here to blame
anyone for anything. We just want to survive this."

"Yeah,
yeah, yeah. We all want to survive. That’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve kept
myself alive. I’ve kept the Sarge alive. Everyone else is either dead or
infected. Not me. I’m strong. I’m smart. I told the Sarge I’d find other
survivors. I made bet. I won. I found you!"

He
turned to the sergeant and leant over him. "You hear that? You were wrong! I
won! I found survivors!"

It
was at that moment the Sergeant turned. The Oz virus took over. He lunged
forward and grabbed his fellow soldier by the leg. He sunk his teeth in.

"Is
that all you got!?" the soldier yelled.

The
soldier grabbed the Sergeant by his neck. He ignored the bite wound. He ignored
the fact that he was now infected. He put his gun to the Sergeant’s temple and
pulled the trigger.