Z-Minus (Book 4) (7 page)

Three men. One he couldn’t trust. Versus Major Edwards and God knew how many Special Forces teams, plus these ‘infected’ characters. There was being an underdog and there was being a dead dog. It would take a miracle to win. But Mark wouldn’t quit. It wasn’t in his nature. Frankly, he was grateful to have something distract him from Tabitha and Roach.

Mark pushed the foliage apart and peered at the road. A jeep sat across it, blocking it. A pair of armed guards stood before it. One was Eddie – the team leader they’d run into at Fort Bragg. The other man was one of his lackeys. Mark thought his name was Tex.

“Just the guy we want to run into right now,” John said, shaking his head. “How do you want to handle this?”

Mark looked back the way they’d come.

“We have to go through him,” Mark said. “Unless we want to take a long detour.”

“I suppose it’s too much to suppose they’ll be by themselves,” John said.

“It is,” Mark said. “They’re too relaxed, too calm. Trying too hard to appear nonchalant. There will be more of them waiting for us in the bushes.”

“No doubt the major put them here on purpose,” John said. “Knowing we would have to go through them.”

“No doubt,” Mark said.

“We’re going to have to hit them hard,” John said. “Engage them in the open. Force the others out of the forest to attack us. Then we could take the jeep.”

“We wouldn’t get half a mile before another patrol picked us up,” Mark said. “Or worse yet, a helicopter.”

“When do you suggest we do?” John said.

There was too much to take in, too many things to consider. Mark took a few deep breaths and let his mind grow calm, relaxed. He let his subconscious take over.

Back when he was a new recruit, Mark had taken part in an experimental study. In recent years neuroscientists had begun to explore the benefits of meditation in everyday life, as well as those of higher functioning activities. They discovered that calming the mind and letting it work independently of conscious thought produced enhanced productivity and creative functions. It was a concept the military took seriously.

Mark breathed deeply, finding his center. He fed his subconscious all the information and details of the situation before him, forming a swirling orb of ideas that bulged and shrank, concepts parting through his mind, running through potential outcomes, successes, failures, that he either threw out, or merged with other ideas.

The conscious mind was a Commodore 64, the unconscious a supercomputer.

“What’s he doing?” Daoud said. “Meditating?”

“It’s just a thing he does,” John said. “He’ll stand like that until he comes up with an idea.”

Daoud watched Mark with trepidation.

“What if he doesn’t come up with an idea?” he said.

“He will, but it might take some time,” John said.

It wasn’t five minutes before Mark blinked and came awake. He unshouldered his bag and put his weapon down. He tore some red flowers out by the roots and mashed them between his hands, forming a fine paste. He ran it over his cheeks into several thin lines.

“John, Daoud,” Mark said. “I want you to scout the forest. Find the other soldiers out here. There might be one, maybe two. Take them out quietly.”

“What are you going to do?” John said.

“I’m going to hand myself in,” Mark said.

Before John could utter another word, Mark stepped out of the foliage with his hands up.

The patrol snapped to attention, guns raised and aimed at Mark.

“That’s close enough,” Eddie said.

“I’m infected,” Mark said. “I’m out of the game.”

“Already?” Eddie said, chuckling. “Man, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

He looked disappointed, like he wished he’d been the one to take Mark out of the game. He lowered his gun.

“Who got you?” Eddie said.

“One of the infected,” Mark said.

“How come you didn’t return to the drop off?” Eddie said.

“I tried,” Mark said. “I got lost.”

Eddie barked a laugh.

“I knew we’d get you, Edwards,” he said. “Without even needing us to fire a shot, either! What were you up to when they caught you? Crouched down with your pants around your ankles? Not the shining star pupil now, are you?”

“I never said I was,” Mark said.

“As the boss’s offspring you were always given the best missions,” Eddie said. “The easiest missions. It’s easy to excel when put in the right situations.”

He couldn’t have really believed that. Sub-Saharan Africa was known as one of the most inhospitable places in the world. Half their tour was spent in the Middle East, and they were pleased to head out there when they did.

But Eddie hadn’t completely lowered his guard yet. His rifle was still within easy reach.

“What happened to your rifle, your kit?” Eddie said with a frown.

“My team took them,” Mark said. “Thought they’d need the extra firepower.”

“Can’t blame them for that,” Eddie said. “Where were they headed?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” Mark said.

“Why not?” Eddie said.

“I’m a corpse,” Mark said.

Eddie smiled.

“And might I say, you look lovelier than ever,” he said.

“Coming out,” a voice from the forest said.

“Ali,” Eddie said. “Come look at what we caught.”

Ali came out of the foliage, hands clasped to the back of his head. John and Daoud appeared behind him in crouched positions, catching Eddie and Tex with their pants down.

“What are you doing?” Eddie said.

“You’re out of the game,” Mark said.

The blood drained from Eddie’s face as realization set in.

“You’re not infected?” he said to Mark.

“Nope,” Mark said, wiping the red marks off his face.

Eddie gritted his teeth.

“That’s against the rules,” he said.

“In war, there are no rules,” John said. “Drop your weapons.”

Eddie grinned and reached for his gun.

“I think I’ve got a twitchy finger,” he said. “I’m sure I can squeeze off one round, even by accident.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” John said, drawing closer, to near-point blank range, aiming between Eddie’s legs. “They might be small, but I can trim them up if you like.”

Eddie hesitated. He raised the strap of his gun up over his head and lowered it to the ground.

“Thank you,” John said.

His eyes never moved from the other soldiers.

“What do you want to do with them?” he said.

“Let them go,” Mark said.

“You’re sure about that?” John said. “If you ask my opinion, they don’t deserve to live.”

“Let them go,” Mark said.

John sighed, disappointed.

“You heard him,” he said. “Get your useless bodies in your patrol car and get out of here.”

They did, the back wheels of their jeep kicking up a cloud of dust in their haste. Eddie’s sneer could have curdled milk.

“They’ll tell everyone where we are,” John said.

“Uh-huh,” Mark said. “They think we broke the rules.”

“We
did
break the rules,” John said.

“They feel they can now too,” Mark said.

He moved to the tree line and retrieved his weapon and backpack.

“We just opened our very own can of worms,” John said. “And you’re happy with this?”

“Daoud,” Mark said. “You served under Eddie as your team leader. What do you think he’d do after this?”

“Honestly?” Daoud said. “He’ll be angry and want revenge. He’ll be on the radio now, telling everyone within range where we are, so they can find us and put us down fast.”

Mark nodded, as if the news had confirmed his suspicions.

“Then we’re going nowhere,” Mark said. “We’ll stay here.”

“You just heard what Daoud said,” John said. “They know we’re here.”

“And they know we know,” Mark said. “They’ll spread out, searching all around. They’ll ignore this position. If we leave now, it’ll only be luck if we slip through them. But if we wait, we’ll see where they’re patrolling and can escape.”

John’s eyes moved side to side, sifting through the plan and its possible outcome. He smiled.

“Remind me never to play chess against you,” he said.

“Why not?” Mark said. “I’m terrible at chess.”

“My ass you are,” John said.

“So, we just sit here?” Daoud said, disbelieving his ears.

“Affirmative,” Mark said. “We’ll get some rec. It might be a while before we get another chance.”

John gathered up sheets of moss, forming a soft cushion to lie on top of. Mark and Daoud followed suit.

Daoud walked off to one side into a small clearing. He bent down and gathered up some rocks, forming a small pile. He reached into his pocket and took out a medal. He placed it on top of the pile. He got on his hands and knees and spoke under his breath, bowing his head in prayer.

“What’s he doing?” John said.

“It’s a cairn,” Mark said.

“A what?” John said.

“A grave,” Mark said.

“Ours, probably,” John mumbled. “Now he’s praying over it. Am I the only one spooked out by this?”

“A man’s belief is a man’s belief,” Mark said.

They ate cold dry rations from their packs. Every bite reminded Mark of Tabitha, not because she was tasteless or dry, but because she was the exact opposite. She was full of life and vigor. The world was dull and bland in comparison.

Mark stared into the darkness and thought of Tabitha and the baby growing in her belly. He felt an emptiness, what his life would be like without her in it. A new life was meant to be something to rejoice, wasn’t it? But he didn’t feel that at all. He only felt empty, like a part of him had been taken. It was his youth, he realized, and there was no way he was going to get it back.

“I wish Roach were here,” John said.

Mark startled. He’d been deep in his own thoughts. John took a seat beside him and grunted as if it took a great deal of effort.

“I bet he wishes he was here too,” Mark said.

“I’ve been thinking about it, his death,” John said. “Do you think it was all part of some kind of conspiracy? It’s hard to imagine he would die like that.”

“The world is a battlefield,” Mark said. “You never know when you’re going to bite it.”

“So make the most of life while you can,” John said. “That’s what they say, isn’t it?”

“That’s about it,” Mark said.

“Then what are we doing out here?” John said. “What good are we doing sitting in the middle of the forest in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the day?”

“You’ve got me there,” Mark said. “But maybe we’re part of a larger pattern, a small part of something that will help the largest number of people.”

“Sounds a bit too optimistic for my taste,” John said.

Mark smiled, but it was distracted.

“What’s eating you?” John said.

“Who said anything was?” Mark said.

“Something’s on your mind,” John said. “I might be stupid, but I’m not dumb.”

Mark opened his mouth, and then hesitated. He’d trusted his life to his friends more times than he could count, but rarely his secrets. Did he want to divulge them now?

“Tabitha’s pregnant,” Mark said.

John nodded, pursed his lips, and then looked toward the forest.

“Aye,” he said. “That’ll about do it. There’s nothing like having children. It’s the greatest and worst thing I’ve ever experienced. To feel them in your arms, to care for them and bring them up… It’s the greatest feeling in the world. Outside the bedroom, anyway. But then to lose them… It’s the greatest pain you can ever feel. Especially when they don’t know who you are anymore, because you’ve been away for so long. Babies remember those things. It takes a lot for them to forget. But at a certain point it happens, and you can never get their trust back again.”

Mark couldn’t look at his friend. He was aware of John’s difficulties but he’d never been so open about it before.

“But what does a soldier do instead?” Mark said. “What can a soldier do?”

The thought of not being in the Force anymore left a sour taste in Mark’s mouth. He thought of the world, of home, of the drudgery he imagined existed in a regular job.

“You give yourself orders, I suppose,” John said. “I’m not the right person to talk to about this stuff. That’s something I’ve never been very good at. But you, you’re used to handing them out. You just have to get used to listening to yourself.”

“I could get a normal job,” Mark said. “Maybe something like security, where I could use the skills I have. Tabby’s club is always looking for new security. It’s not glamorous, but it would be fine until I find something better.”

But he knew he was unlikely to find anything better, not within a company anyway. They turned former service members away almost as callously as former prisoners.

“There you are,” John said with a smile. “You’re following orders already, like a good Jarhead.”

He turned to look over at Daoud, lying on his moss bed with his eyes closed.

“Do you think we can trust him?” John said.

“We have to,” Mark said. “He’s one of our team now.”

John grumbled something under his breath about wishing it was Daoud who was infected and not Jacob.

“Do you want me to take first watch?” he said.

“No, I’ll take it,” Mark said. “Take a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”

John climbed onto his own bed, rolled over, and within moments he was still.

Mark stared out at the forest. His mind went to, of all things, the tour he’d recently completed in Ebola-infected West Africa. Something about his situation with Tabitha reminded him of it. Perhaps it was the feeling of being trapped, of a hopeless situation. Or maybe it was just because he was afraid.