Taking the Initiative
~this is a truly bizarre idea that sand-bagged me a few days ago, then refused to quit. What can I say, caffeine is my friend. It makes the world all bright and shiny…~
Somewhere in South America. Somewhere hot and horrible. Days like this, I hate the army.
Some damn training exercise - we've already got half the unit down. Bad water, worse food. Some moron shot himself in the foot. Holed up in some little shack, and the rain won't quit. I miss Kansas.
Set up a perimeter guard, and try and radio out for help. No signal, and we can't go any further. Once night falls here, it comes down like a hammer. Can't see a damn thing.
Middle of the night, and something comes through the fence. Too big to be a monkey, wrong shape to be any of the animals on the list. Someone screams as he goes down, chokes off with a wet sound. No lights - I'm left in the dark with the sound of people dying. Muzzle flashes. Another scream. Shit.
Have to get the generator back on line. Moment to orientate myself, then run. Slipping in something, and I hope that wasn't some poor bastard I knew. Generator has a handle, and I'm glad I did night-drill for this. Find it blind. Catch, you bastard, and what I wouldn't give for a fucking nite-scope.
Lights up.
Fuck.
That doesn't look like anything we're supposed to be seeing. All fangs and claws and blood. So I do what I'm trained to do.
Whatever it is, it bleeds green. But if it bleeds, I can kill it. Out of bullets. Got it down, and I'm going to have get inside the range of those claws, because it's still moving with a clip of ammo in it. Knife out and where's it's weak spot?
Camp is suddenly full of guys in black. I'm yelling, another guy is yelling, everyone to hold their fire.
The -thing- is still bellowing. Commando guy pulls out a pistol, stops it.
"What's your name, soldier?"
"Fordman, sir." Salute. His accent is familiar. Sound of home.
Other black-clad guys are wrapping the -whatever-. We need to set up an aid station.
Radio crackles. Woman's voice.
"Finn...whatcha got?"
"Eyewitness. Bringing him in. We have a brood. Copy?"
"Shit."
These guys are a hunting party. But they have radios that work. Sound of arial support.
We lost two men in the assault. Aid station for the rest, and real medics.
"Get your kit, Fordman." The big blond commando jerks his thumb to another smaller transport. "You're with us, now."
"Sir, what the hell -was- that, sir?"
"First sight of those things, most people panic. Get their heads ripped off. Those that don't...get recruited. Welcome to the Initiative, Fordman."
~Anybody want to play with the soldiers some more? ~
~I have four days holiday end of this week - and I promise I will use them to get the big arc up. But sometimes all the little voices come at once...:) ~
~this is a truly bizarre idea that sand-bagged me a few days ago, then refused to quit. What can I say, caffeine is my friend. It makes the world all bright and shiny…~
Somewhere in South America. Somewhere hot and horrible. Days like this, I hate the army.
Some damn training exercise - we've already got half the unit down. Bad water, worse food. Some moron shot himself in the foot. Holed up in some little shack, and the rain won't quit. I miss Kansas.
Set up a perimeter guard, and try and radio out for help. No signal, and we can't go any further. Once night falls here, it comes down like a hammer. Can't see a damn thing.
Middle of the night, and something comes through the fence. Too big to be a monkey, wrong shape to be any of the animals on the list. Someone screams as he goes down, chokes off with a wet sound. No lights - I'm left in the dark with the sound of people dying. Muzzle flashes. Another scream. Shit.
Have to get the generator back on line. Moment to orientate myself, then run. Slipping in something, and I hope that wasn't some poor bastard I knew. Generator has a handle, and I'm glad I did night-drill for this. Find it blind. Catch, you bastard, and what I wouldn't give for a fucking nite-scope.
Lights up.
Fuck.
That doesn't look like anything we're supposed to be seeing. All fangs and claws and blood. So I do what I'm trained to do.
Whatever it is, it bleeds green. But if it bleeds, I can kill it. Out of bullets. Got it down, and I'm going to have get inside the range of those claws, because it's still moving with a clip of ammo in it. Knife out and where's it's weak spot?
Camp is suddenly full of guys in black. I'm yelling, another guy is yelling, everyone to hold their fire.
The -thing- is still bellowing. Commando guy pulls out a pistol, stops it.
"What's your name, soldier?"
"Fordman, sir." Salute. His accent is familiar. Sound of home.
Other black-clad guys are wrapping the -whatever-. We need to set up an aid station.
Radio crackles. Woman's voice.
"Finn...whatcha got?"
"Eyewitness. Bringing him in. We have a brood. Copy?"
"Shit."
These guys are a hunting party. But they have radios that work. Sound of arial support.
We lost two men in the assault. Aid station for the rest, and real medics.
"Get your kit, Fordman." The big blond commando jerks his thumb to another smaller transport. "You're with us, now."
"Sir, what the hell -was- that, sir?"
"First sight of those things, most people panic. Get their heads ripped off. Those that don't...get recruited. Welcome to the Initiative, Fordman."
~Anybody want to play with the soldiers some more? ~
~I have four days holiday end of this week - and I promise I will use them to get the big arc up. But sometimes all the little voices come at once...:) ~