Chapter 2: Out of Gas
Even through the back roads the men encountered civilians, Brad told his men "observe everything, admire nothing." People were panicking, but Brad knew they weren't the National Guard or the Police. They had nothing to give them or information on what to do. Other people would hide from them like they were going to shoot them in the face. They drove all day and stopped at night. The first night they encountered more infected, what used to be a man in blue jean overalls came out of the woods towards them. Stafford shot him down, that's when they noticed that after the gunshot three more came out of the woods. Sound attracted them.
Brad had all his men affix their Ka-Bars as bayonets, and told them to strike for the eye, nose, or up through the mouth and to shoot only as a last resort. It was that night that they saw how decayed these people were, one was missing arms, another a jaw, and one was just a torso. But they still tried to attack them. These were not people anymore. They were in fact dead and severely diseased. Some of the men started to raise the question of whether it was right to kill them or not. Morally and ethically, there had been no declaration of war, and these were US citizens. Brad could not believe there was even a discussion, people try to kill you and you try to kill them right back. None of these kids had been to war, Nate told him and probably never had to make that tough decision before.
Brad gave the ROE, rules of engagement, as follows: kill any persons who appear to be infected and pose an immediate and eminent threat to you or another around you. Brad wasn't an officer but the senior most Marine and the two officers agreed with him. After Brad's speech about the ROE Nate spoke, introducing himself properly and told them that though he was retired now he believed and trusted Brad and would have given the same directive. Nate was just as famous in the men's eyes as Brad, most had read his book, as it was suggested reading now in the Marine Corps. Afterword a couple of the junior Marines came by to talk with him.
Brad had instituted sound and noise discipline, set up a perimeter and twenty-five percent watch at the location they chose to bed down for the night, he also let them remove their gas masks. If it was in the air they were already infected. So protocol was gas mask to be used when confronting infected or on perimeter check. A few marines wore the mask all the time. They didn't have to dig ranger graves, as it would actually be too difficult to react quickly if approached by a hostile. So they just rolled out their sleeping mats and ponchos on the ground around the trucks, some under the trucks.
Nate of course didn't have a sleeping mat, so he planned to sleep in the back of Brad's transport. He walked around sleeping Marines until he came to Brad's side, he was awake still in his vehicle. He was apparently trying to get a signal on the one portable radio they had. It was a piece of shit of course, he'd expect nothing less of the Marine Corps. Brad said he'd give it to Pfc. Morales in the morning he was apparently an RTO, so he'd let him try to tinker with it.
The driver's seat was empty, Brad having sent him to get some sleep, so Nate slid in next to Brad.
"I guess it's a good thing I decided to come down a day early, huh." Nate said.
Brad slowly slide his hand over across the seat, Nate's meeting his in the middle. The gesture was small but the grip was tight.
"Yeah, Nate I'm glad you did." Brad said tilting his head back. He was so much more than glad, thinking that Nate could be out there among those things scared the shit out of him, knowing he would instead be by his side during this craziness gave him strength.
Not having H & S Company really did suck. Brad soon realized that they would not have enough diesel for two vehicles. The only option was to load all the supplies onto one, and have the men walk. This was not a popular order. The men had just come back from two weeks of intense training and walking over hundreds of miles did not seem like a good time. Nate then reminded them of the men who walked the Bataan death march, and the all men who walked before them dying for their country. This pretty much shut them up. Brad soon realized Nate was not only his moral support but the men's as well. He knew he wasn't the rousing speech giver he was a facts man, but together without command interference they were able to make a great team.
They had been on the road for more than two weeks now. Walking during the day, taking breaks, killing infected, even finding and purifying water, resting at night, siphoning gas and taking supplies out of the occasional empty cars they found. Corporal Matthew Henderson and Pfc. Luke Thomson never took off their gas masks. Nate had already spoken with them and saw that they were becoming more and more troubled. In the middle of the night two gunshots rang out, Brad ran towards the sound bayonet out thinking there were infected coming towards them. Instead he found Henderson and Thomson shot in the head, the side arms in their hands.
Nate was not surprised but he was disappointed, with himself for not being able to do something more for them. They held a service in the morning deciding to bury them. They had no way of taking the bodies with them. The radio was a pretty hopeless situation so Brad was at the moment the ultimate authority. Brad took one set of their dog tags, leaving the other to identify them. They held a service, giving eulogies and mimicking a twenty-one gun salute. A few of the men were not as grief stricken, feeling they took the coward's way abandoning them.
Nate was off offering support and a kind ear to men who were shaken by the deaths. After the service Brad made his way over to Stafford.
"Dog, this shit is Screwby." Was Stafford's response as Brad walked over.
"You know this ain't you fault right? Some people they just ain't cut out for living hard. Nothin' you could 'a done." Stafford punched his arm walking away.
They had to move on. They kept walking and that night Nate found Brad doing his perimeter check.
Nate grabbed Brad's arm pulling him towards him. Brad looked around but they were far enough away no one could see them.
"Their deaths were not your fault Brad and if you keep beating yourself up how are you going to lead these men?" Nate said close to him.
"My men, my unit, my fault." Brad said quietly.
"They made a choice Brad, you didn't fail to protect them." Nate tried to soothe. Then he tried plan B. He finally gave him a proper hello, pulling him towards him kissing him roughly. Brad immediately reciprocated. They kissed until they needed to come up for air. Thank god a Recon Marine can hold their breath for three minutes. Panting Brad rested his forehead against Nate's just holding onto each other for a moment.
Nate pulled away first telling Brad to catch a couple minutes of sleep he would finish his patrol. Brad reluctantly agreed.
They found her in an abandoned dirt road cursing viciously at her Honda kicking its tires. Brad approached her with caution, when she saw them she lite up.
"Oh thank god. Sir my car ran out of gas, I was on my way to Atlanta. The radio had said there was a FEMA emergency center up there." The woman was in her early thirties, brunette and tiny barley five foot from Brad's estimate and apparently unafraid of asking for help from a six-foot tall marine in a gas mask carrying a M4 with a bayonet.
"Have you been attacked, bitten, or scratched?" Brad asked
"Oh no, I was on vacation when this whole outbreak occurred. I'm Dr. Amanda Wilson. I'm a pediatric reconstructive surgeon. Fortunately I'm in private practice not at a hospital anymore, but I still do work with Doctors without Borders. So I was going to Atlanta to offer to help." She said, apparently she talked a mile a minute.
"I haven't come in contact with anyone who is infected. I was at a small bed and breakfast when we got word of the outbreak, the couple who run it were staying put. Do any of your men need medical attention? I mean I'm sure you have a medic though." The doctor said looking over at the men. She took a step towards Brad, making Brad tense and take a step back. She just then sighed and began to take off her T-shirt and unbutton her jeans. In a matter of seconds she was standing in just her bra and underwear and spun slowly with her arms out.
"Ma'am please put your clothes back on. I believe you now." Brad said handing her the discarded jeans.
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