CHAPTER 5

Kent Island, Maryland

Sergeant Emond was supervising a working party at the entranceway into the civilian housing area on Kent Island. His Marines were filling sandbags and orderly stacking them next to a newly constructed chain linked fence vehicle gate.

“Move your asses or you’ll be at this all night!” Emond cursed at some privates that spent more time throwing dirt at each other than into the sandbags.

“Is it lunch time yet Sergeant?” A young Lance Corporal complained.

“All you ever do is eat. Finish the job, and I just might feel charitable enough to feed you shitbags!” Sergeant Emond chastised.

Emond turn his attention towards the new ten-foot-high chain link fence that made its way down to the bay then completely surrounded the small subdivision. Some of the fencing materials came from the local hardware store on the island, but the rest had been pillaged from a nearby big box lumberyard on the mainland. Luckily, his Marines did not get tasked on that mission because it had ended with casualties inflicted by hordes of infected.

His unit had seen combat. Emond had been shot at more times than he could count. Small unit tactics and battlefield geometry was his specialty which he could calmly process complex warfare problems. But the infected, they scared the crap out of him. The fence should be taller, he thought to himself.

“Looking good, do you need a hand?”

Emond turned around to face the civilian speaking to him. The guy wore an MTC ball cap, blue jeans, light weight hoodie tucked into a gun belt and had a scoped long gun strapped across his back. The hardened eyes of the man before him held a history of violence but also compassion. He stood tall with confidence and didn’t look like a science nerd. None of the other civilians offered to help with working parties. Noticing the VIP badge around his neck, he could guess who this guy was.

“Are you Victor?” Emond asked.

“I am, at your service if you need some help.” Victor offered.

“There is some scuttlebutt floating around that the Big Man on the mothership recruited you because you’ve slayed a million infected up there in Michigan. Practically cleansing the entire state single handedly.” Sergeant Emond quizzed.

Victor belted out a healthy laugh. “That’s a good one! Here, wait a minute, tell her that!” He said pointing to Erica walking up the road towards the vehicle gate.

“Tell me what?” Erica squished her eyebrows together curiously.

“I figured that was all bullshit. Oh, sorry for my language ma’am. Also heard that you smoked a couple infected spawns a few days ago. Was that at least true?”

“Honey, apparently I am the conquer of the plague-ridden north with a mountain of infected corpses as a monument of my bad-assery.” Victor grinned at her, then turned his attention back to the Sergeant. “But, yeah, we were attacked by three young second generation type right down the road. Tell your guys to stay alert.”

“Where’s Raymond, I thought he would be helping with perimeter upgrades?” Erica asked curiously.
“His trigger finger was itchy and needed to shoot something, so he borrowed a Recon team and went culling on the mainland.”

“Well, I hate to interrupt your macho manly party, but I need to get going. A helicopter is lifting off in thirty minutes to take a few of us and supplies to the lab.”

“Ok, radio me directly on the handheld HAM if anything, and I mean anything, seems off.” Victor said firmly looking into her eyes.

“Yes dear. I will dear. Don’t worry dear.” She said mocking his concern and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek to embarrass him in front of his new military friend. “I’ll be back in a week, make sure you clean the house.”

She winked at him, turned and then sashayed her way towards the airport.

“Women.” Victor said nodding towards her. “But seriously though, if anyone had killed a million Grays, it would be her when she fought her way all the way across Michigan on foot.”

“We’ve heard that too. She’s not just good looks and a smile, huh?” Emond asked.

“Nope. And she’s got the big brains too.”  Victor added. “So, how did you end up here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh man, were to even begin?” Emond said blowing out a long breath, staring into the horizon as he tried to dig through unwelcomed memories. “Well, we were conducting joint training with the Moroccan military when the 26th MEU suddenly got attached to the 6th Fleet. Wasn’t long after that we were tossed into the shit show in Syria. Our company was held up on a forward operating base near At Tanf, without any clear mission parameters.

“They told us that we were supporting the pro-democracy side of the uprising against the dictator. Truth be told, we had no idea what we were supposed to be doing, who was who, and where constantly being shot at. And to make matters worse, Russian military was also on the other side of At Tanf in support of the opposition. Our Syrian militia were fighting Russian backed Syrian military and dying by the hundreds. After a while, Russian Syrian military decided to stop killing their countrymen and start aiming at us instead.

“That’s about when we heard of the EMP attack on the United States. We were at the highest level of pissed off and already battle ready. Reports that ISIS in Syria had taken credit for the attack made us blood thirsty and we went on the assault with everything we had. There were minor reports of a spreading infection, but you know when you are getting blown up on a daily basis, a silly illness doesn’t even register on your radar. We were already taking the little blue anti Malaria pill that was supposed to be a cure-all anyways. You know the one that gives you wicked ass dreams at night?

“After we encountered some of the infected and seen the monsters with our own eyes, then we got concerned. Especially when some of our Marines went psycho, clawing and biting their own close friends. These guys had been watching each other’s backs through Hell for months, then they had to kill their best friend who had gone mad. Do you know what that is like man? That’ll mess you up big time.

“We had intel of a massive anti-U.S. protest headed towards our base that was angry against our Syrian occupation and civil war involvement. We took the threat seriously because other FOBs were reporting of riots as well. So, there we were in blazing hot late summer heat, wearing MOPP level four hazmat suits and riot gear when the mob came at us. Except it wasn’t protesters as the intel nerds reported, it was a swarm of infected.

“Rules of engagement are pretty strict when it comes to unarmed protesters. Higher echelon afraid of being war criminals wouldn’t budge on the ROE’s. CS gas did nothing. Bean bag shotgun rounds did nothing. Marines were in full hazmat suits, going hand to hand with infected using batons with no effect. Needless to say, riot control tactics don’t work on the infected and the line was overwhelmed quickly.

“The infected swarmed the perimeter concrete T walls. They found gaps in our perimeter that would have stopped a normal human being and came pouring in. It was my boot ass butter bar 2nd Lieutenant that gave the order to open fire. It turned into a blood bath. A massacre that I could not have ever imagined in my worst nightmare. Hundreds of lifeless unarmed corpses laid two or three bodies deep in a pool of gore. A third of our own men, killed, wounded or worse, infected.

“I’ve had all kinds of platoon and company commanders in my career. Some good. Some bad. But I’ll tell you, Lt. Murphy saved our asses that day. I don’t know what a promotion would do these days, but he needs one. Not only for giving the order that day, but he also took the initiative to get us home.

“Between infected swarms, and the Syrians and Russians taking advantage of the opportunity launching full scale attacks, dropping artillery and missiles, we were in shell shock. We abandoned the FOB that day. Lt. Murphy contacted the rest of our unit on the radio and there wasn’t much left of the 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit at that point. We escaped and evaded all the way across Syria. Originally, we headed towards Israel, but we got a reinforcement request from a sister company that was taking serious fire from Russian troops, so we changed directions. By the time we got to them, there was only a squad still alive fighting, but we did kick the shit out of the Ivans.

“Lt. Murphy was formulating an exit strategy when he got the extraction call from 6th Fleet. We fought our way across a pretty built up Lebanon border, fast rolling, smashing and blasting anything that got in our way. The 6th Fleet Admiral had SEALS and a Force Recon platoon waiting on the beach for us in Beirut. By the time we got on board the aircraft carrier, a battalion of Marines that had went into Syria had been whittled down to the platoon and a half that is now Kent Island defense force, aka guard duty.”

Victor shook his head in shock. “Man, that sounded horrible. I’m glad that you survived! Like I said, if you need a hand, please let me help. Anything you need Sergeant.”

“No worries man, we are really happy to be here, and with a noble purpose. Was happy to be safe on the island until we heard that you popped a couple Grays. My guys and I had went house to house clearing this island when we first got here.” Emond said.

“Did you clear basements too? That is where I have found dens in the past?” Victor asked.

“Yup, and again after your incident. No signs of dens.” Emond added.

“Which means they’ve been here the entire time hiding until they grew to attack strength, or they snuck across the bridge, or they swam the bay.” Victor suggested.

“I was going to ask the SeaBee engineers to add razor wire to the fence here, but I’m not sure if it’ll help.” Emond questioned.

“Not against the Grays, but it would help for the non-infected invaders that are bound to show up sooner or later.” Victor said matter-of-factly. “Which is probably the reason that you’re building these fortified bunker positions.”

“That aircraft carrier is a major deterrent from local troublemakers, but you never know when the fleet will be needed elsewhere. I’m putting primary and secondary fighting positions all around the island.” Sergeant Emond said, nodded his head. “We’ll be ready for a fight when the time comes, infected or not.”

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E. Emond
End of Mission:  November 27, 2018
Till Valhalla brother.
Semper Fi and De Oppresso Liber
To learn more about this American Hero, please visit: https://bit.ly/36c655Z