THEM (Season 1): Episode 3 by M.D. Massey
Authors: M.D. Massey
Tags: Horror, vampire, Zombie, apocalypse, Werewolves, post apocalyptic, Dystopian, vampire hunter, Werewolf, shapeshifter, Zombie Apocalypse, werewolf hunter, zombie hunter, post apocalyptic books
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A stumpy little guy with faded sergeant major’s insignia on his ACUs stomped up to us and waded in the middle of the scene. There were three guys holding me back, and a couple kneeling down by the practical joker who were giving me dirty looks.
One of the guys holding me back spoke up. “Sergeant Major Marsh, Corporal Jones just came up and pissed all over the new guy while he was digging a latrine. He had it coming, Sergeant Major.”
The other guys holding me nodded in agreement. After getting a good look at Corporal Jones I could see why. He had the look of a bully, big and stocky, and a face only a mother gorilla could love. I was fairly certain that half the compound had been subject to his “jokes” at one time or another. I imagined I was probably the first guy to stand up to him with any degree of success.
However, his cronies had a different story to tell about what had happened. One of them chimed in almost on top of the other militiaman. “It weren’t like that, Sergeant Major. Jones just came up to see how the new guy was doing, and the NG just went off on ’im. He’s crazy, Sergeant Major.” The guy who spoke up was a tall skinny fella wearing BDUs without any rank insignia. Wouldn’t surprise me if he got busted so many times, they took away all his rank. Or, that he just didn’t give a shit about dress code.
“Atkins! Do I look like a dumb-ass to you? If you were locked in a room with nothing but a stick and a rock, you’d break the rock and lose the stick! Now pipe down unless you have something useful to say.”
The sergeant major turned his eyes my way and looked me up and down. With a sneer, he leaned in and took a whiff of me. “Holy sweet goat balls, newbie—you were supposed to dig a latrine, not bathe in it! Now go get your piss-reekin’ goat-smellin’ ass cleaned up!” Then he looked over at Corporal Jones. “And take him to the medical station!”
I raised my hand. “I’ll take him, Sergeant Major. It’s my fault he’s all beat up, so I’ll do it.”
The sergeant major squinted at me, then at the corporal’s goons, and finally at the guys who had taken my side. “Ratcliff, Atkins, and new guy—take this piece of shit to the med station.” He pointed at a slight black man behind me, and also at the skinny tall guy who’d lied to cover Corporal Jones. Then he pointed to me. “And go get cleaned up, newbie!”
I watched the SGM storm off, and then looked at the two troops who got picked. The tall skinny guy gave me the stink eye. “You’re dead, newbie—just you wait.”
The black guy spoke up. “Atkins, shut the hell up. You know Jones had it coming. Hell, he screws with you and Rummy just as much as he does with the rest of us. Why you idiots stick up for him is beyond me.”
Skinny guy just looked off to the side and fumed. I spoke up. “Well, I guess we’d better get him to sick call—looks like I jacked him up pretty good.” Ratcliff chuckled and grabbed Jones’s feet, and I grabbed him under the arms. Atkins just walked along all beside us all the way to the med station, never once offering to lend any help.
- - -
A s I suspected, the med station was located inside one of the containerized housing units, and had apparently been adapted for that purpose before the War. As we carried Jones in, a nurse in fatigues directed us to take him back to a treatment room. We laid him down on the treatment table, and he started coming around, moaning up a storm. Atkins had somehow managed to ditch us between the front door and the treatment room, which was alright by me. I stood there silently while Ratcliff sized me up.
“Some of the guys said you got tabbed out of the 3rd battalion. Said you saw combat in the ’Stan.” I just looked at him and grunted.
“I get it, I get it—you the silent type. That’s cool. I was over there too, long before all this shit went down. Not combat arms, but supply. When I got out, I decided to join the State Guard.
One of the guys holding me back spoke up. “Sergeant Major Marsh, Corporal Jones just came up and pissed all over the new guy while he was digging a latrine. He had it coming, Sergeant Major.”
The other guys holding me nodded in agreement. After getting a good look at Corporal Jones I could see why. He had the look of a bully, big and stocky, and a face only a mother gorilla could love. I was fairly certain that half the compound had been subject to his “jokes” at one time or another. I imagined I was probably the first guy to stand up to him with any degree of success.
However, his cronies had a different story to tell about what had happened. One of them chimed in almost on top of the other militiaman. “It weren’t like that, Sergeant Major. Jones just came up to see how the new guy was doing, and the NG just went off on ’im. He’s crazy, Sergeant Major.” The guy who spoke up was a tall skinny fella wearing BDUs without any rank insignia. Wouldn’t surprise me if he got busted so many times, they took away all his rank. Or, that he just didn’t give a shit about dress code.
“Atkins! Do I look like a dumb-ass to you? If you were locked in a room with nothing but a stick and a rock, you’d break the rock and lose the stick! Now pipe down unless you have something useful to say.”
The sergeant major turned his eyes my way and looked me up and down. With a sneer, he leaned in and took a whiff of me. “Holy sweet goat balls, newbie—you were supposed to dig a latrine, not bathe in it! Now go get your piss-reekin’ goat-smellin’ ass cleaned up!” Then he looked over at Corporal Jones. “And take him to the medical station!”
I raised my hand. “I’ll take him, Sergeant Major. It’s my fault he’s all beat up, so I’ll do it.”
The sergeant major squinted at me, then at the corporal’s goons, and finally at the guys who had taken my side. “Ratcliff, Atkins, and new guy—take this piece of shit to the med station.” He pointed at a slight black man behind me, and also at the skinny tall guy who’d lied to cover Corporal Jones. Then he pointed to me. “And go get cleaned up, newbie!”
I watched the SGM storm off, and then looked at the two troops who got picked. The tall skinny guy gave me the stink eye. “You’re dead, newbie—just you wait.”
The black guy spoke up. “Atkins, shut the hell up. You know Jones had it coming. Hell, he screws with you and Rummy just as much as he does with the rest of us. Why you idiots stick up for him is beyond me.”
Skinny guy just looked off to the side and fumed. I spoke up. “Well, I guess we’d better get him to sick call—looks like I jacked him up pretty good.” Ratcliff chuckled and grabbed Jones’s feet, and I grabbed him under the arms. Atkins just walked along all beside us all the way to the med station, never once offering to lend any help.
- - -
A s I suspected, the med station was located inside one of the containerized housing units, and had apparently been adapted for that purpose before the War. As we carried Jones in, a nurse in fatigues directed us to take him back to a treatment room. We laid him down on the treatment table, and he started coming around, moaning up a storm. Atkins had somehow managed to ditch us between the front door and the treatment room, which was alright by me. I stood there silently while Ratcliff sized me up.
“Some of the guys said you got tabbed out of the 3rd battalion. Said you saw combat in the ’Stan.” I just looked at him and grunted.
“I get it, I get it—you the silent type. That’s cool. I was over there too, long before all this shit went down. Not combat arms, but supply. When I got out, I decided to join the State Guard.
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