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Authors: W. J. Lundy
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enjoying it a bit
more. He pulled a water bottle from his cargo pocket and added water to the
glass. Not so much to water it down, but to make it last just a bit longer.
Brad could hear
the men joking in the lounge; the mood lifted with the sudden feelings of
security now that the deck was presumed clear. Brad looked over his shoulder,
opened the blinds behind him, and some light spilled into the room. Looking out,
he was surprised to see the rains had finally stopped and he could see the
moon.
“Looks like the
weather finally broke,” Swanson said, breaking the silence.
Brad looked up
and saw her standing in the doorway. “Yeah, looking that way. What can I help
you with, Corporal?”
“Please, call me
Chelsea,” she answered.
“Okay … Chelsea …
What’s up?”
“Mind if I take
a seat?” she asked as she looked at the sofa across the room from Brad.
“Sure, take a
load off,” he answered, lifting his glass in a mock salute.
Chelsea leaned
her rifle against the wall, plopped onto the sofa, leaned back and took a sip
from her half empty glass before making a foul face.
“Here, add some
water, it mellows it a bit,” Brad said, tossing her the water bottle.
Chelsea smiled
and filled her glass back to the top with water, then took another sip, making
the same face. “I don’t think it helped much. I’d kill for a Coke right now.”
“So what brings
you to my office, Chelsea?’ Brad asked just before he took another sip of his
bourbon.
“Just looking
for some company,” she smiled back.
“What, the
privates don’t entertain you?” Brad chuckled.
“Yeah, turns out
that crude jokes and ball scratching get old after a while,” she laughed.
“Let me ask you
Chelsea, how did you find your way onto this rig? Why weren’t you sent back to
the States?”
“The States, I
wish … I mean, what’s left of them, anyway. I haven’t heard anything from them
in weeks. After the fall, this is where we were dropped. But it’s still better
than on the ground. We were cornered against the walls of the airfield and we
had been holding up for days hiding in the bunkers. With the armor, we were
holding the lines, doing the best we could. Some officers were trying to get
everyone out, but there weren’t enough planes on the ground to move everyone.”
“I’d heard they
recalled everyone back to the States and closed the bases. My unit never got a
warning; my company was lost in the field. At least you had the evac order,”
Brad said.
“Oh, they tried,
I’ll give them that … the first days of the evacuation were impressive; huge
airlift flights leaving the ground and landing every few minutes. The Cobras
and Apaches were tearing up wave after wave of primals, trying to cover the
withdrawal. After a couple of days, the flights dwindled with the fuel supplies.
Combat troops and those with special skills were getting priority to be sent
back to the States. I was in a maintenance unit and kept getting passed over.
“Eventually,
they asked for techs and mechanical types to volunteer to help get these rigs
online as staging areas. Our commander jumped at the chance to get us out of
that place. A Chinook helicopter picked up my team and dropped us here. It was
good duty, considering … and they said once the Navy ship was replenished they
would be getting us home.”
“Yeah, shitty
luck I guess … what’d you know about the attacks? How did we lose Leatherneck? All
that muscle and advanced warning, I’d figure they would hold forever.”
Chelsea took a
long pull on her glass and spoke quietly, “We heard the rumors and were briefed
about the ‘zombie’ attacks, or whatever they were, but nobody believed it. The
camp was put on lock down, and nobody was allowed in or out. We had a hundred
percent up on the walls but nothing happened. We joked about it, but folks were
getting pissed off about pulling twelve hour shifts out on the wire.
“We heard
stories of camps in the north getting
more. He pulled a water bottle from his cargo pocket and added water to the
glass. Not so much to water it down, but to make it last just a bit longer.
Brad could hear
the men joking in the lounge; the mood lifted with the sudden feelings of
security now that the deck was presumed clear. Brad looked over his shoulder,
opened the blinds behind him, and some light spilled into the room. Looking out,
he was surprised to see the rains had finally stopped and he could see the
moon.
“Looks like the
weather finally broke,” Swanson said, breaking the silence.
Brad looked up
and saw her standing in the doorway. “Yeah, looking that way. What can I help
you with, Corporal?”
“Please, call me
Chelsea,” she answered.
“Okay … Chelsea …
What’s up?”
“Mind if I take
a seat?” she asked as she looked at the sofa across the room from Brad.
“Sure, take a
load off,” he answered, lifting his glass in a mock salute.
Chelsea leaned
her rifle against the wall, plopped onto the sofa, leaned back and took a sip
from her half empty glass before making a foul face.
“Here, add some
water, it mellows it a bit,” Brad said, tossing her the water bottle.
Chelsea smiled
and filled her glass back to the top with water, then took another sip, making
the same face. “I don’t think it helped much. I’d kill for a Coke right now.”
“So what brings
you to my office, Chelsea?’ Brad asked just before he took another sip of his
bourbon.
“Just looking
for some company,” she smiled back.
“What, the
privates don’t entertain you?” Brad chuckled.
“Yeah, turns out
that crude jokes and ball scratching get old after a while,” she laughed.
“Let me ask you
Chelsea, how did you find your way onto this rig? Why weren’t you sent back to
the States?”
“The States, I
wish … I mean, what’s left of them, anyway. I haven’t heard anything from them
in weeks. After the fall, this is where we were dropped. But it’s still better
than on the ground. We were cornered against the walls of the airfield and we
had been holding up for days hiding in the bunkers. With the armor, we were
holding the lines, doing the best we could. Some officers were trying to get
everyone out, but there weren’t enough planes on the ground to move everyone.”
“I’d heard they
recalled everyone back to the States and closed the bases. My unit never got a
warning; my company was lost in the field. At least you had the evac order,”
Brad said.
“Oh, they tried,
I’ll give them that … the first days of the evacuation were impressive; huge
airlift flights leaving the ground and landing every few minutes. The Cobras
and Apaches were tearing up wave after wave of primals, trying to cover the
withdrawal. After a couple of days, the flights dwindled with the fuel supplies.
Combat troops and those with special skills were getting priority to be sent
back to the States. I was in a maintenance unit and kept getting passed over.
“Eventually,
they asked for techs and mechanical types to volunteer to help get these rigs
online as staging areas. Our commander jumped at the chance to get us out of
that place. A Chinook helicopter picked up my team and dropped us here. It was
good duty, considering … and they said once the Navy ship was replenished they
would be getting us home.”
“Yeah, shitty
luck I guess … what’d you know about the attacks? How did we lose Leatherneck? All
that muscle and advanced warning, I’d figure they would hold forever.”
Chelsea took a
long pull on her glass and spoke quietly, “We heard the rumors and were briefed
about the ‘zombie’ attacks, or whatever they were, but nobody believed it. The
camp was put on lock down, and nobody was allowed in or out. We had a hundred
percent up on the walls but nothing happened. We joked about it, but folks were
getting pissed off about pulling twelve hour shifts out on the wire.
“We heard
stories of camps in the north getting
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