Here my entry. Bonus points if you know what book I'm basing this story on. And if you don't already know:
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This story reads better if you read it while listening to this song. Promise
“Yo I told you turn that **** off” croaked the sergeant.
“You can’t be serious! Didn’t you know this is supposed to be our theme song? Our battle cry? Our swan song? I’m trying to get into it Sarge!”
“All you rookies this dumb? Or do I have this distinct honor?”
“What are you talking about Sarge?”
“Swan song means that it’s your last song before your death. You planning on dying ****ing new guy?”
“Er...no Sarge…”
The rookie hurried to turn off the radio, which was blaring Iron Maiden’s The Trooper. The squad was huddled around a campfire, trying to relax. It had been a long trek to get to Hope. Even with the long journey though, a lot of the men were restless. Some dragged on cigarettes, others sharpened their lobotomizers, and some fools were playing mumbley peg. Under normal circumstances, this would be commonplace in the camp except for the fact that the knives were flying all over. Sergeants and lieutenants were scolding men for playing at a time like this. But the knives just kept going all over.
Sarge had the squad break out the tents, find water and firewood, and setup a security perimeter. He was insistent that a perimeter was always set. Even if the squad was with a company or battalion, he would have us setup patrols and a lookout for our little area of the camp. I guess being the night before the big action had really loosened the rookie’s tongue. Who could blame him though. Tomorrow we were supposed to accomplish what they couldn’t do at Yonkers.
“Hey Sarge, why do we always set up perimeters? I mean it makes sense when we’re alone in the wilderness but not when we’re battalion or brigade strong. What gives?”
Normally the sergeant was gruff and would demerit soldiers for speaking out of line. Some of the older guys whispered that he could get away with it since he and the captain had served together since before the zed-heads were first discovered. Others swore that he was at Yonkers. And most of the new recruits just thought Sarge was being a hardass.
“If you saw your buddy’s face chewed off, you’d be cautious after too.”
The older squad members just shook their hands grumbling, “Goddamn Land Warrior”. They scooted a little further away, breaking down and cleaning their Standard Issue Rifles.
“Do you all remember watching Yonkers on TV?”
“Sarge, everyone remembers that. That’s why I joined the Army.”
“Do you all remember how we broke and ran? Did you ever hear the real reason? Let me tell you, when you see the scope filled with Gs after the barrage of rockets and artillery and everyone is panicking what are you going to do? The Gs can survive Rolling Thunder? The Big Guns. How were us grunts going to stand up to the horde? And of course we were all hormones on legs, drunk on the old time obsession of technology and bad tactics. For God’s sake, we were still aiming for the chest of the Zeds! You’d think
one person would have read a ****ing sci-fi book or watch some B-movie and figure it out. I mean you at least we’d have a start. ****ing vampires, you know to go for the head and ****.
Stupid computers linking us all together so we can watch our battle brothers’ faces get eaten alive. So ****ing stupid.”
Most of the squad just stared. Sarge never spoke more than two sentences and he just poured his heart out? Did the world just end for real? Was Sarge turning? Of course, the FNG couldn’t help himself.
“But Sarge, what’s Land Warrior?”
“Ugh, so you are just plain stupid…Lights out at 2200 ladies. Tomorrow we face the Gs…again.”
I don’t know about the rest of the squad, but I didn’t sleep much that night. If Sarge was rattled by facing the Gs tomorrow, how were we supposed to cope? Granted the Army has come a long way since Yonkers but that didn’t mean that this wouldn’t fail either. I remember the bravado and lead up to Yonkers. The propaganda showing the might of the strongest, most technologically advanced Army the world has ever known steamrolling the zombie horde. It was all a beautiful dream.
The sunlight woke me before the bugles did. I looked over to and see if the rookie had stuck around. On one hand, deserting his post would be stupid since we were in the middle of nowhere but on the other hand, who could blame him? His first engagement and his commanding officer seems to be losing it? Looking around for something to do to calm my nerves, I started sharpening my lobo again. My SIR was polished and triple-checked, ready for the endless headshots that were sure to come. As I ran the hone over the edge, the guard came in from his rotation. I nodded to him and went to take my place on the perimeter.
Throughout my march, it struck me how flat some of the Southwest was. I could see prairie as far as I looked. It looked like the horizon merged with tall grass in the far distance. This was light years away from Yonkers. The highway and buildings all smashed togetherher. This was open range and I could understand the romanticizingg of it. Too bad in a few hours we’d be stacking G bodies thirty high…
I finally heard the bugles call and I headed back for role call. It was awkward, after the speech from Sarge last night. We all mulled around until some of the older guys fell into place and we just followed out of habit. Sarge just told us that whatever happened, this wouldn’t be Yonkers all over again. That he’d make sure we would all get out alive and on top of a huge zombie pile.
But we weren’t all as confident as Sarge. I mean he had to be rattled right? How were we going to get through it? Training? New tactics? A big ass ax? I wasn’t sure. And the rest of the camp was in similar disarray. Usually an orderly machine, today the men were all over. Many were smoking but some were so nervous, they were just gnawing at their butts instead of smoking them. Sarge and the other sergeants tried to bring some order but none of the command chain seemed to care. It reminded me of that moment in pre-school right when the parents were dropping off their children. They were told it was coming but once they realized mom was actually LEAVING them at this strange place, the real reactions came out. It was just a weird mix of drawn faces, crying, machismo, and weapons.
It was almost a relief when the call to arms came. We formed our lines in from of the supply depots. Huge towering boxes of ammo with the Army Reserve kids running clips and crates back and forth. I took my place in the front line, facing the east. The older guys said they were owed the second line since it was easier. They already saw some ****. It was our turn to be the first responders and to take the first shots at the hordes.
Were we ready? Was I going to **** my pants? Are Rookie and I going to rack up the most kills in the squad? I’m not really sure. But I know that I was shocked out of my reverie when I heard Sarge yell, “Do you maggots want to live forever?! Play that ****ing song!”
You take my life but I’ll take yours too!And we heard the rumble of a million Gs running across the prairie.
