Nuclear War Club: Seven high school students are in detention when Nuclear War explodes.Game on, they are on their own. (24 page)

An older soldier, a Sergeant, came up and looked at Karen and David.

“Anyone hit?” the Sergeant asked.

“No, none of us were hit,” said the closest soldier.

“What about the civilians?” the Sergeant asked.

“Two with sucking chest wounds, fifty fifty, the third one, the civilian who attacked the terrorists, is dead.” Ramirez replied.

“The terrorists?” the Sergeant asked.

“Four Killed in Action (KIA) by civilians, Five KIA from us. No prisoners or wounded,” the soldier with “Ramirez” on his name tape said.

David gasped involuntarily as he realized Jorge was dead. He tried to look behind the boulder to see him. Jorge was alive and laughing a few minutes ago, now he was dead. And Ramirez’s casualness inflamed the finality of Jorge’s death

“Too bad,” said the Sergeant, spitting out some tobacco juice. “They wanted prisoners.”

“The terrorists were coming to wipe out the four civilians, we had to act, “said Ramirez.

“I know, I know” Sergeant said. “You, Thompson, and Brown did great, it was on the drone,” Sarge said turning, and louder so they could hear. Ramirez brightened at Sarge’s praise.

Sarge turned and looked at Karen and David.

“Did you have prior service?” Sarge asked David.

“No sir,” said David.

“That fake grenade attack with a rock was a pro move,” said Sarge.

“Why do you have an Air Force Survival Manual?” Sarge asked, holding up the green book.

“My Dad is an Air Force Pilot,” David answered.

“What is your name?” Sarge said.

“David Phelps.”

“Who are all these kids?” Sarge asked. Thompson and Smith had come closer to listen.

Sarge stopped, turned, and told Ramirez and Smith, “Take the woman over there and interrogate her while I interrogate him,” pointing to where Doron was being treated.

David watched them take Karen about ten yards down the trail, then Sarge continued. “Who are all these kids?”

“We were in High School. The nukes went off, we were in the basement. We hid in the sewer tunnels for about two weeks, then headed east,” David explained.

“What was the name of your High School?” Sarge asked.

“Barley Union High School.”

“Which class were you in when the nukes cooked off?”

“After school detention.”

“So you are telling me instead of a chess club or book club, you are a Nuclear War Club?” Sarge asked.

“Exactly. We just happened to all be in detention that Monday afternoon.”

“For what?” asked Sarge.

“For almost fighting.” David answered.

“Where did you get the M-16s?”

“My Dad had them in his truck box,” David said.

“Where did you get these?” Sarge asked, holding up two Doron’s Deathmasters.

“Doron invented them to help us when we get ambushed,” David said. Sarge unscrewed the Deathmaster and put it in his backpack.

“And who came up with this?” Sarge asked. It was a primitive, but extremely effective, thermal evasion suit. Small foot squares of polyester batting sandwiched between two sheets of radiant barrier with Velcro to attach to a camo poncho.

“Doron found that in a stored web article by Brandon Smith, Alt Market and Oath keepers,” David said.

“Why did you come here, to
this
switch yard?” Sarge pressed.

“We found we could get better supplies from semi-truck trailers than from stores. We saw this was a switch yard and we wanted to look it over,” David said.

Sarge paused as Smith ran up.

“There is a kid about three years old near the two wounded civilians,” Smith said.

“Is he hurt?” Sarge said.

“No, he is fine. Crying a lot, but OK,” said Smith. Sarge nodded, and walked down the trail to Karen.

“Which High School did you go to?” asked Sarge.

“Barley Union High School,” Karen answered.

“What class were you in when the nukes went off?”

“Detention.”

“For what?”

“Fighting.”

“What is your name?”

“Karen Wilson.”

“What is your MOS?” Sarge asked.

“She doesn’t know,” David interjected.

“Phelps, you shut up. I am questioning her,” Sarge barked.

“What?” asked Karen, not knowing that was Military Occupational Specialty.

“Have you served in Army?” Sarge simplified.

“No.”

David thought Sarge did not believe her.

“We saw you shooting. Where were you trained?”
Sarge demanded.

“I grew up on a ranch and we used AR 15s to shoot prairie dogs,” Karen explained.

“Where did you get these?” Sarge asked, showing her a Deathmaster.

“We built those to help us when we were ambushed.” David noted she was careful not to implicate Doron, and he felt stupid.

“Cut them both loose from the plastic cuffs,” Sarge said to Ramirez as he walked off toward Samuel.

“Son, my name is Sarge,” he said.

David was surprised Samuel didn’t say anything, he just looked at Sarge and cried even louder. Karen walked up, rubbing her wrists. Samuel ran up to her, and hugged her leg.

“Is she your Mom?” Sarge asked.

“No, Aunt Karen,” Samuel said.

“I need to talk to you and David,” Sarge said to Karen.

“Can you bring him over here,” Sarge said as he moved to where Doron and Ashley were being treated.

“So?” Sarge said to Brewster, the Medic.

“Sucking chest wounds. They were in shape, probably fifty fifty,” Brewster said.

“Do what you can, we have to leave tomorrow morning,” Sarge said. Karen, David, Liu, Zeke and Samuel came up and circled around Sarge.

“What was the name of the man who saved the child?” Sarge asked softly.

“Jorge Rodriguez,” David replied.

“We have to leave you at first light. Doc will do all he can for these two before we leave,” Sarge said turning to Ashley and Doron.

“You are all free to go, or stay here, until the morning. You can’t come with us, we are on a mission,” Sarge explained.

“We would like to stay with you tonight, and learn all we can from Doc,” said David.

“Fine. Now realize we have soldiers on guard duty who will shoot you after dark if you leave the area we assign you. Do you understand if you leave your area
you will be shot
?” Sarge asked each one, looking them in the eye and waiting for their response, one by one.

“We need to bury him before dark,” Sarge said, matter of factly.

“You two, go with Ramirez and dig the grave,” Sarge commanded, handing David and Zeke a folding shovel.

“We can have a short service at burial if you like,” Sarge said. “Anyone know what religion Mr. Rodriguez was?” Sarge asked David.

“Christian,” said David.

“No problem,” Sarge said, shuffling several laminated cards, then pulling out a laminated card the size of a business card, with an outline of verses and songs for a Christian Burial. He handed the card to David.

“If you want us to do the service, just let me know.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve had lots of practice,” Sarge said.

55.

David watched the soldier with “Ramirez” on his chest carefully dip the finger in Jorge’s own blood, and take a digital photo of Jorge’s fingerprints. He then stamped the fingerprint on a piece of cardboard about the size of a quarter, and took a photo of his body. “Alright, this size,” Ramirez said as he scratched the outline of the grave. Then he handed Zeke a shovel.

“Waist deep, dirt piled on the side. You can only dig a grave from inside. Take turns. Get to it,” Ramirez barked as he dropped the blood vial and the photo stick into a zip lock bag labeled “Rodriguez, Jorge ”

David and Zeke were both still pumped with adrenalin, and they finished the grave quickly. They rolled the mangled mess that was left of Jorge onto a poncho, while the soldiers provided a perimeter.

Zeke puked on Jorge before he could turn away. Ramirez quickly wiped Zeke’s vomit off the poncho. The other soldiers seemed unfazed.

“Use the duct tape to seal the poncho, be very sure his face stays covered,” Ramirez said. Ramirez tied Jorge’s legs together with parachute cord, then David and Zeke carried him up the hill.

Sarge walked up, checked the duct tape, and said “Put the body in the grave but do not cover it until the funeral.”

“Who is going to run the funeral service?” Sarge asked David.

“Can you do it, Sir?” David asked.

“Sure,” said Sarge taking out a small notepad from the pocket above his knee.

“What was his legal name?” Sarge asked.

“Jorge Rodriguez,” David responded.

“Date of Birth?”

“Don’t know. He was 17.”

“Parent’s names?”.

“Don’t know,” said David, looking at Zeke.

“Brothers and sisters?”

“Don’t know,” said David quietly.

Sarge shut his notebook. David realized he had lived with Jorge 24/7 for over a month and didn’t know anything about Jorge’s family. But then again, all of them had lost their family, and it was painful to talk about.

“How long were you together?” asked Sarge.

“Ever since the nukes,” David replied.

“What did he like to do?” asked Sarge.

“He loved to cook. He was really good at it. We got fed up with canned food and he was a wizard at making rice and spaghetti taste great,” David said.

“He loved to ride the motorcycle,” Zeke added.

“Who was his best friend?” Sarge asked.

“Probably me,” Zeke said.

“Go through his personal effects, there are no next of kin, so dispose of them as you see fit,” Sarge said, tossing Zeke the zip lock bag with Jorge’s wallet, a small notepad, the Course Outline for English Class with Jorge’s drawings and notes on the back, and a smart phone with a dead battery.

“See Jefferson, he can charge his cell with the solar charger to see if there are pictures stored. And Jefferson can sing
Amazing Grace
if you like,” Sarge added.

“Yes, have him sing,” Zeke said. “Thank you.”

“And Thompson still has the bugle from the Lieutenant’s burial, we can play
Taps
,” Sarge offered.

“Yes,” David nodded.

“Funeral service in fifteen minutes,” Sarge said. “Get your people together,” Sarge ordered David.

56.

Karen held Samuel tight in her arms as Sarge began the funeral.

“Jorge Rodriguez died at age seventeen. He was a Senior at Barley Union High School,” Sarge said.

“Jorge Rodriguez was brave. I saw him rush the terrorists, before we could get into position. He exposed himself to enemy fire, to save Samuel,” Sarge said.

Karen sobbed involuntarily, this was the first she knew of how Jorge had died.

“We don’t know much about his family before,” Sarge continued

“You became his family after the war,” Sarge said, looking at each one.

“Would anyone like to share before Corporal Jefferson sings
Amazing Grace
?” Sarge asked.

“I found this photo of Jorge’s family,” Zeke said, passing around the phone. It looked like he had five brothers and sisters.

“When I was shot, Jorge brought me a special soup of mashed up rice with chicken every night. It was the only thing I could swallow,” Karen said.

“And when the maggots were put in my wound, he helped check the bandages every day,” she said.

“He told me he felt like this was his family, after the war. He told me and Liu he was surprised, because he didn’t know any of us during school,” Karen finished.

David nodded, no, and Sarge motioned to Corporal Brown, who sang in a rich deep bass voice:

Amazing Grace

How sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me

I once was lost

but now am found

was blind but now I see

Sarge nodded to Thompson

Taps
mournfully echoed through the canyon. Karen had heard
Taps
several times before at funerals for her Dad’s friends, but this time it was like it reverberated directly into his bones. Karen
felt Taps
, she did not just simply hear it.

“Amen,” said Sarge, dismissing everyone.

___________

Everyone slowly drifted away. Then Zeke and David shoveled the rest of the dirt into the grave. David pondered the harsh math of combat as he walked away with Zeke.

“You know Zeke, we have had three firefights. Karen was shot twice, Jorge has been killed, Ashley and Doron may die from multiple chest wounds,” David said.

Zeke nodded.

“Nothing you could do. It is what it is,” Zeke said.

“We should
all
be dead in about two more firefights,” David said.

“On average,” clarified David.

“Looks like we just have to be sure we are above average, an A, or B, no Cs. You know, like Yogi, smarter than the average bear,” said Zeke.

David had learned the harsh lesson that the only way to win firefights in the long term was to avoid them. He thought they were coming together as a unit until he saw the Airborne troops in action.

Now he realized if the Nuclear War Club had been opposed by real enemy soldiers, they would have been wiped out.

57.

“Drag all the terrorist bodies into the trailers. We are going to stay here tonight and tomorrow, the Intel is delayed,” Sarge commanded.

“We will move the camp up between the ridge near the top right after dark. Leave a campfire here, and make it look like we are staying here. I am hoping their friends come for them,” Sarge said.

The soldiers took off immediately.

“If you think you have been observed, you move your camp just after dark, and leave your old campsite set up,” Sarge explained to David.

“You listen to that voice and move, don’t wait for a reason. Never forget your subconscious can process warning stimuli faster than your conscious mind. If you sense something is wrong, pay attention. With a campfire lit at the old campsite, you can have a backlit ambush kill zone,” Sarge said.

“Now, we will stay tomorrow, then leave before daylight. You need to soak up everything Doc can teach you about your two wounded,” Sarge told David.

“And get out of here. They have friends coming here. I hope we are here when they come, but we have a mission, and can only wait one day for them,” Sarge said.