Dinner and Bedtime at the Darren Household
Disclaimer: Same as before.
~ ~ ~ ~
Gene Locksley sat at the table with the Darren family. He was sitting right beside Ivy to his left and the triplets to his right. "Gene, are you descended from Robin of Locksley?" they asked.
"Yeah, are you related to Robin Hood?" Toya asked.
"Robin Hood wasn't even real." Ivy said, "Don't be ridiculous."
"Actually Ive, there are legends of an outlaw around the time of Richard III of England. Maybe Gene Locksley, USMC, is related to Robin of Locksley." Zack replied.
"Actually Great Aunt Rahne believes we are descendents of Robin of Locksley." Gene replied, "Our family came from England in the mid twentieth century with only a few pounds and the old coat of arms to their name. There is a scroll at the base that reads 'Degi Appareo.' Which means live to serve. But nobody really knows where our family actually began."
"Is that how you wound up in the Marines?" Mrs. Darren asked.
"Kind of." Gene Locksley replied.
"Baga Wheee!" Claudius shouted and threw a blob of applesauce across the table. Gene ducked just in time and the blob struck Zack full in the head.
Gene laughed lightly, "I've lived through three little brothers, I kinda got used to that after a while."
Meanwhile after dinner, "Ivy, could you get the dishes." Mrs. Darren said.
"I'll help." Gene replied.
The kitchen overlooked the front lawn and the road as Ivy dried the dishes and Gene washed them. As they did the local high school marching band was practicing its piece for its performance later that week. They were playing the Marine's Hymn. Ivy saw how Gene was practically in a trance, a tear unashamedly falling from his cheek.
To Gene Locksley, just hearing that hymn filled his heart with a great swelling and longing for the camaraderie of his fellow Marines. He also remembered a moment in China three years ago. The Marines defending the city of Shanghai from a massive assault by the Biohazard forces had been ordered to pull out after a long and particularly bloody battle.........
2140: Private First Class Gene Locksley, barely nineteen years old, fired off another burst of electricity down range at a pair of zombies that were trying to get into the perimeter the Marine garrison had created around Shanghai to provide for the evacuation of the civilians and hundreds of wounded sailors, soldiers, airmen and Marines. The enemy withdrew after the Marines gunned down a few more of their number and were regrouping for a final assault when the call came in to the Marines to withdraw.
"There they go, the last of the boats!" Lieutenant Barco shouted. He was a dark haired, lanky fellow fresh out of OCS. "Marines we are leaving!"
"I'll be back!" Stokely shouted and fired three more rounds from his clip and his rifle pinged empty yet again as the Marines marched towards the last vessels that formed their evacuation.
Several minefields in Shanghai had been set to deter pursuit and the Marines marched in an orderly column to the docks, rear elements fighting occasionally to deter leading elements.
As the column marched across the destroyed city littered with the bodies of the infected zombies, the Marines refused to leave behind their dead or wounded who were carried out in stretchers in the middle of the column. "Alright men, stand tall and walk proud!" an unknown Marine shouted, "We're Marines, so lets look like it."
"From the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli." came the words from a man somewhere in the column.
The words spread on to the other Marines in the column of Shanghai's last defenders. The dispirited soldiers of the 12th Chinese Infantry Division looked on as the Marines held their heads high and proud, despite the fact that Shanghai was lost. The Chinese soldiers, some of whom barely could understand English, fought with still more courage when it was their turn to be the rear guard when they saw the spirit of the Marines.
Gene Locksley, the tough cut up from Orlando, Florida, the rough housing tough kid who got into numerous fist fights in high school, wept unashamedly at the words. Miles Hendon, the unit's wisecracking leatherneck, also had tears in his eyes. Almost every Marine in the column was overwhelmed with emotion from the words of his alma mater, where the lessons were learned upon the battlefield and not in the classroom, it was hymn rife with tradition forged in the flame of war and tinted with the red of blood.
"Gene?" Ivy said, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Gene said, smiling weakly, "Just hearing the band play the Hymn made me proud to be a Marine. It's just something I can't really put to words."
Ivy put an arm around Gene's shoulder as a comforting gesture, she couldn't find the words to empathize with the battle toughened leatherneck's communion with the Great Beyond.
To Gene just hearing the notes of the Marine's Hymn kept him spellbound. The drummer put the last roll of the beat and the band marched off in the distance. Just then the spell was broken and Gene Locksley, despite the dull ache in his left ear, felt a spring in his step.
For a brief few moments, Gene Locksley couldn't hear Stokely screaming his own hymn, "God damn you Gene Locksley!"
Almost for a brief moment he saw several figures standing in the lawn, still with their full fatigues and combat gear. For the brevity of the song he could see Stokely, Hendon, Spudetsky, and Barco. But the image faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.
"When I joined the Marines four years ago, it was because a judge told me that I had a choice, go to the county lockup or the military." Gene confessed, "I had no idea how much the Marines grew on me."
"What did you get into trouble for?" Ivy said.
"I got it for beating up some punk kid who threw rocks at my aunt's shop. I got hauled before the judge on assault and battery charges. Turns out I beat up the district attorney's kid." Gene replied, "Within twenty-four hours of my court hearing I had signed my paperwork, with my Dad's permission to become a Marine. After slugging it out through twelve weeks of boot camp I graduated finally. I could see the pride on the faces of mom and dad after I walked off the parade deck on graduation. For the first time I did something right with my life. Dad wondered when I'd become more than a kid who got into God knows how many fights in high school."
"I don't think I would recognize the 'old' you." Ivy remarked.
"I don't think I'd recognize the old me either." Gene replied.
"I'm serious, looking at you now makes it hard to believe that you did such a thing." Ivy said.
"I guess the Marine Corps and my old DIs channeled the energy for me. I couldn't exactly go traipsing through the barracks getting into fistfights when gunny was having me do pull-ups, pushups, mountain climbers and parallel dips in God knows how many reps. I got the good end of the deal with a first class PFT (Physical Fitness Test), I got 275 points out of a possible 300." Gene replied.
"DI?" Ivy asked.
"A Drill Instructor is easily the most terrifying sight in the US Marine Corps." Gene replied, "And gunny was the most senior of them."
"Well if you want a challenge," Ivy smiled, "Try working out with me."
"Let me guess, those trophies all around the house are yours." Gene replied.
Ivy smiled again in reply, "I do have a black belt in several different martial arts. So are you in?"
"Leave it to the Marines." Gene replied.
"Well then, meet me out here at 6 o'clock sharp. I'd love to work out with someone who can keep up with me." Ivy said mischievously, "Did you do any martial arts training?"
"Aside from hand to hand which is a blend of aikido, jujitsu and plain raw courage that I learned at Parris Island, some dirty fighting tricks from one salty old 1st Sergeant, and what I picked up from my days as a roughneck in Orlando, nothing really impressive." Gene replied.
"Well, I could use someone to spar with. My old sparring partner's on a mission right now." Ivy replied.
"Are you crazy?" Zack said.
"I could use the challenge." Gene replied.
"She'll have you out cold in three seconds flat." Zack warned.
"What the hell else am I gonna do around here other than scut work as an MP." Gene replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
Night came again, the entire household was asleep. Well almost the entire household. One Marine was still awake well past midnight after three hours of tossing and turning in bed, not truly asleep but not truly awake either, like the zombified enemy he fought on the Solomons which was not dead but not truly alive either.
The fog filled the house, thick as pea soup. Gene Locksley could hear still more gunshots, screams, and as he walked into the hallway he saw Marines fighting in the hallway with rifle butts and fighting knives at close range. Gene fired burst after burst from his electric gun into the ranks of zombies closing with the Marines, but they kept coming and slaughtering the defenders.
A voice rose above the din and smoke of battle, "God damn you Gene Locksley! God damn you! God damn you!"
"Can't you see I wanted to go home?" said another voice, he turned to see the face of Spud Spudetsky, an eighteen-year-old face with the eyes of an old man, "I had my whole life ahead of me."
"I hope those orders were worth our lives Gene Locksley!" said Miles Hendon.
"We could've gotten out Gene!" Stokely shouted, "All you had to do was tell us and we would've followed you to Hell and back. Well congratulations, we're in Hell but we're not coming back!"
Gene Locksley snapped awake, the nightmares again. The dreams of the combat zone that never left his mind's eye were back again. The guilt of being the only man left alive on a Godforsaken beach he didn't particularly need or want. He had orders to hold it, why couldn't those guys, his best friends in the entire world, understand it. More importantly, why did he sacrifice their lives? Because of orders? That wasn't good enough to satisfy his conscience, to clean it of the fact that by following a dying man's orders he had sent five Marines to their deaths.
Those five Marines were his best friends and with trembling hands Gene Locksley removed a rumpled picture from the pocket of his uniform. There were the six of them posing in front of their barracks in New Guinea before the fateful day on Lunga Point. They all seemed so peaceful and free of all cares, young men imbued with the feelings of indestructibility inherent to youth. All six of those men found out they were not indestructible on September 13, 2143. And one of those six men was trying unsuccessfully to find a moment's peace in bed.
Disclaimer: Same as before.
~ ~ ~ ~
Gene Locksley sat at the table with the Darren family. He was sitting right beside Ivy to his left and the triplets to his right. "Gene, are you descended from Robin of Locksley?" they asked.
"Yeah, are you related to Robin Hood?" Toya asked.
"Robin Hood wasn't even real." Ivy said, "Don't be ridiculous."
"Actually Ive, there are legends of an outlaw around the time of Richard III of England. Maybe Gene Locksley, USMC, is related to Robin of Locksley." Zack replied.
"Actually Great Aunt Rahne believes we are descendents of Robin of Locksley." Gene replied, "Our family came from England in the mid twentieth century with only a few pounds and the old coat of arms to their name. There is a scroll at the base that reads 'Degi Appareo.' Which means live to serve. But nobody really knows where our family actually began."
"Is that how you wound up in the Marines?" Mrs. Darren asked.
"Kind of." Gene Locksley replied.
"Baga Wheee!" Claudius shouted and threw a blob of applesauce across the table. Gene ducked just in time and the blob struck Zack full in the head.
Gene laughed lightly, "I've lived through three little brothers, I kinda got used to that after a while."
Meanwhile after dinner, "Ivy, could you get the dishes." Mrs. Darren said.
"I'll help." Gene replied.
The kitchen overlooked the front lawn and the road as Ivy dried the dishes and Gene washed them. As they did the local high school marching band was practicing its piece for its performance later that week. They were playing the Marine's Hymn. Ivy saw how Gene was practically in a trance, a tear unashamedly falling from his cheek.
To Gene Locksley, just hearing that hymn filled his heart with a great swelling and longing for the camaraderie of his fellow Marines. He also remembered a moment in China three years ago. The Marines defending the city of Shanghai from a massive assault by the Biohazard forces had been ordered to pull out after a long and particularly bloody battle.........
2140: Private First Class Gene Locksley, barely nineteen years old, fired off another burst of electricity down range at a pair of zombies that were trying to get into the perimeter the Marine garrison had created around Shanghai to provide for the evacuation of the civilians and hundreds of wounded sailors, soldiers, airmen and Marines. The enemy withdrew after the Marines gunned down a few more of their number and were regrouping for a final assault when the call came in to the Marines to withdraw.
"There they go, the last of the boats!" Lieutenant Barco shouted. He was a dark haired, lanky fellow fresh out of OCS. "Marines we are leaving!"
"I'll be back!" Stokely shouted and fired three more rounds from his clip and his rifle pinged empty yet again as the Marines marched towards the last vessels that formed their evacuation.
Several minefields in Shanghai had been set to deter pursuit and the Marines marched in an orderly column to the docks, rear elements fighting occasionally to deter leading elements.
As the column marched across the destroyed city littered with the bodies of the infected zombies, the Marines refused to leave behind their dead or wounded who were carried out in stretchers in the middle of the column. "Alright men, stand tall and walk proud!" an unknown Marine shouted, "We're Marines, so lets look like it."
"From the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli." came the words from a man somewhere in the column.
The words spread on to the other Marines in the column of Shanghai's last defenders. The dispirited soldiers of the 12th Chinese Infantry Division looked on as the Marines held their heads high and proud, despite the fact that Shanghai was lost. The Chinese soldiers, some of whom barely could understand English, fought with still more courage when it was their turn to be the rear guard when they saw the spirit of the Marines.
Gene Locksley, the tough cut up from Orlando, Florida, the rough housing tough kid who got into numerous fist fights in high school, wept unashamedly at the words. Miles Hendon, the unit's wisecracking leatherneck, also had tears in his eyes. Almost every Marine in the column was overwhelmed with emotion from the words of his alma mater, where the lessons were learned upon the battlefield and not in the classroom, it was hymn rife with tradition forged in the flame of war and tinted with the red of blood.
"Gene?" Ivy said, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Gene said, smiling weakly, "Just hearing the band play the Hymn made me proud to be a Marine. It's just something I can't really put to words."
Ivy put an arm around Gene's shoulder as a comforting gesture, she couldn't find the words to empathize with the battle toughened leatherneck's communion with the Great Beyond.
To Gene just hearing the notes of the Marine's Hymn kept him spellbound. The drummer put the last roll of the beat and the band marched off in the distance. Just then the spell was broken and Gene Locksley, despite the dull ache in his left ear, felt a spring in his step.
For a brief few moments, Gene Locksley couldn't hear Stokely screaming his own hymn, "God damn you Gene Locksley!"
Almost for a brief moment he saw several figures standing in the lawn, still with their full fatigues and combat gear. For the brevity of the song he could see Stokely, Hendon, Spudetsky, and Barco. But the image faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.
"When I joined the Marines four years ago, it was because a judge told me that I had a choice, go to the county lockup or the military." Gene confessed, "I had no idea how much the Marines grew on me."
"What did you get into trouble for?" Ivy said.
"I got it for beating up some punk kid who threw rocks at my aunt's shop. I got hauled before the judge on assault and battery charges. Turns out I beat up the district attorney's kid." Gene replied, "Within twenty-four hours of my court hearing I had signed my paperwork, with my Dad's permission to become a Marine. After slugging it out through twelve weeks of boot camp I graduated finally. I could see the pride on the faces of mom and dad after I walked off the parade deck on graduation. For the first time I did something right with my life. Dad wondered when I'd become more than a kid who got into God knows how many fights in high school."
"I don't think I would recognize the 'old' you." Ivy remarked.
"I don't think I'd recognize the old me either." Gene replied.
"I'm serious, looking at you now makes it hard to believe that you did such a thing." Ivy said.
"I guess the Marine Corps and my old DIs channeled the energy for me. I couldn't exactly go traipsing through the barracks getting into fistfights when gunny was having me do pull-ups, pushups, mountain climbers and parallel dips in God knows how many reps. I got the good end of the deal with a first class PFT (Physical Fitness Test), I got 275 points out of a possible 300." Gene replied.
"DI?" Ivy asked.
"A Drill Instructor is easily the most terrifying sight in the US Marine Corps." Gene replied, "And gunny was the most senior of them."
"Well if you want a challenge," Ivy smiled, "Try working out with me."
"Let me guess, those trophies all around the house are yours." Gene replied.
Ivy smiled again in reply, "I do have a black belt in several different martial arts. So are you in?"
"Leave it to the Marines." Gene replied.
"Well then, meet me out here at 6 o'clock sharp. I'd love to work out with someone who can keep up with me." Ivy said mischievously, "Did you do any martial arts training?"
"Aside from hand to hand which is a blend of aikido, jujitsu and plain raw courage that I learned at Parris Island, some dirty fighting tricks from one salty old 1st Sergeant, and what I picked up from my days as a roughneck in Orlando, nothing really impressive." Gene replied.
"Well, I could use someone to spar with. My old sparring partner's on a mission right now." Ivy replied.
"Are you crazy?" Zack said.
"I could use the challenge." Gene replied.
"She'll have you out cold in three seconds flat." Zack warned.
"What the hell else am I gonna do around here other than scut work as an MP." Gene replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
Night came again, the entire household was asleep. Well almost the entire household. One Marine was still awake well past midnight after three hours of tossing and turning in bed, not truly asleep but not truly awake either, like the zombified enemy he fought on the Solomons which was not dead but not truly alive either.
The fog filled the house, thick as pea soup. Gene Locksley could hear still more gunshots, screams, and as he walked into the hallway he saw Marines fighting in the hallway with rifle butts and fighting knives at close range. Gene fired burst after burst from his electric gun into the ranks of zombies closing with the Marines, but they kept coming and slaughtering the defenders.
A voice rose above the din and smoke of battle, "God damn you Gene Locksley! God damn you! God damn you!"
"Can't you see I wanted to go home?" said another voice, he turned to see the face of Spud Spudetsky, an eighteen-year-old face with the eyes of an old man, "I had my whole life ahead of me."
"I hope those orders were worth our lives Gene Locksley!" said Miles Hendon.
"We could've gotten out Gene!" Stokely shouted, "All you had to do was tell us and we would've followed you to Hell and back. Well congratulations, we're in Hell but we're not coming back!"
Gene Locksley snapped awake, the nightmares again. The dreams of the combat zone that never left his mind's eye were back again. The guilt of being the only man left alive on a Godforsaken beach he didn't particularly need or want. He had orders to hold it, why couldn't those guys, his best friends in the entire world, understand it. More importantly, why did he sacrifice their lives? Because of orders? That wasn't good enough to satisfy his conscience, to clean it of the fact that by following a dying man's orders he had sent five Marines to their deaths.
Those five Marines were his best friends and with trembling hands Gene Locksley removed a rumpled picture from the pocket of his uniform. There were the six of them posing in front of their barracks in New Guinea before the fateful day on Lunga Point. They all seemed so peaceful and free of all cares, young men imbued with the feelings of indestructibility inherent to youth. All six of those men found out they were not indestructible on September 13, 2143. And one of those six men was trying unsuccessfully to find a moment's peace in bed.