Shit. That was one day I wanted to erase from my memory. But he had a point. If we were to honor Reynolds’ sacrifice, it needed to start with his story. I can’t say that his story will ever be more important than those of the millions that have already died, but to us, he was a hero. The kind you hear about on the nightly news.
Jesus. The media, TV, newspapers, and cell towers. None of that shit works anymore. None of it. And that is just the start of the hell we now live in.
Joel shot me the finger and then closed the front door quietly behind him.
08:15 hours approximate
Location: A little yellow life raft, near San Diego CA
Weapons:
1 Colt 1911 .45
22 Rounds of .45 ammo
1 Heckler and Koch MP5-N sub machine gun
14 Rounds 9X19 Parabellum
1 large knife
Near distance — a massive fire. Gunships. Jets rocketing overhead. Explosions. Fire. Smoke and chaos.
Ahead was the biggest disaster—the USS McClusky. My home for the last year. She crashed into the pier at close to full speed and that was all she wrote. But that wasn’t the only thing burning. The rest of the base was a crazy mess of flames, smoke, and gunfire. Even from this distance, we heard the guns, and they were not being kind to whoever they were aimed at.
A haze settled in as the morning sun rose, further obscuring our view of the naval base. The view snapped quickly back, however, thanks to a plane that roared close to the surface of the water.
“The fuck was that?” I yelled over the noise.
“That was an A-10 warthog. They fly low and blow up tanks and stuff.”
“Do you think the same shit that went down on the ship is happening there?” Reynolds pointed.
“It’s some shit. That’s for sure,” Kelly said.
The Marines went over their gear as we closed in. We had to angle around the piers because there didn’t appear to be a way to climb up. A ship rides up about twenty feet in the air, so that means the piers are a long way up and I wasn’t sure we’d be able to Bruce Willis our asses up some rope.
Luckily, a smaller pier cut to the south of us, so we followed land until we could angle in. Planes continued to rocket over head. To my horror, the fuckers were shooting at people on the ground. Machine guns rattled and spent munitions fell.
“Fucking hell!” Reynolds said exactly what I was thinking.
Another jet started firing from directly overhead. A building bloomed into flame in the distance and then an explosion from another section of the base roared into the air.
“Jesus! Are we at war?” Reynolds was once again thinking my thoughts.
“I don’t know. Should we even try to make it to land? Maybe we can paddle toward the city,” I said.
“It’s the base. We gotta help.” Kelly made a lot of sense — unfortunately.
A couple of helicopters shook the raft as they flew by. They settled over the eastern part of the base and opened fire on something. More flames rose into the air. The shots weren’t confined to just the aircraft. From the distance we picked up on plenty of small arms fire.
“It’s the same stuff from the boat. The same goddamn stuff but its spread all over the base,” Reynolds said.
“What if it’s more widespread than just the base? What then?” I felt like I was whining but Kelly got a faraway look in his eye.
We came alongside a small tender and I used the railing to pull us along until we were flush with a pier. Reynolds crawled over first with his MP-5 pointing ahead. Kelly covered him and then I was next. I didn’t have a weapon but I spotted a large toolbox near a small ship and lifted the lid. Inside were a number of screw drivers, nuts, bolts, and assorted tools, but the prize was a pipe wrench nearly two feet long. I lifted it and found the heft to my liking.
Kelly shot me a questioning look so I mimed bashing in a head.
“Too heavy.”
“Maybe for you, ya scrawny Marine,” I said.
He smirked and nodded toward Reynolds, who was taking up position next to a building with corrugated metal siding. I was surprised they hadn’t left my sorry ass yet. I didn’t have a fancy gun and hadn’t fired one in years with the exception of video games. In virtual life I’d probably killed an entire nation of people; in real life I had no desire to shoot at another person for as long as I lived.
I followed because I didn’t know what else to do. I knew the base, which meant I knew where the commissary and bars were. I knew how to get off the base for the same reason. Food, beer, and occasionally to find a date, even if it had to be paid for in Tijuana.
I could always desert these guys and just find the barracks I’d stayed in a few times, but what if that was also under attack? What a clusterfuck my day was turning into.
Gunfire to the west drew my attention. I snapped my wrench up like I was going to bat bullets out to the air. Reynolds had extended the stock of the little machine gun and moved ahead of us in a quick, steady manner. He slipped to the side of a building, slid along it to a corner and then peeked around. He motioned and Kelly followed while I brought up the rear.
Something roared nearby, causing me to spin in fear. I hit the side of the metal building with the wrench and immediately regretted it. The sound was like a Chinese game-show gong in the morning air.
A column of smoke rose from the direction of the noise that has startled me, and then an unholy explosion shook the ground. A building went up in flames, the roof disintegrating as it exploded.
A HUMVEE overflowing with people zipped past us. A guy hung onto the roof while someone else batted at the figure from the hatch. Then it was gone, careening behind another building. It grew silent for a few seconds before the vehicle crashed.
“Let’s check it out,” Joel said.
“Let’s not and say we did,” I muttered. “Fuck this, dude. We need to find someone in charge and report in. We have to tell them about the McClusky.”
“I hear ya, but something is going on. Something bad. Caution is what we need right now,” Reynolds said.
“And that caution means investigating crashed HUMVEES? That’s what just passed, right?” I asked.
“It was, and it had Marine insignia, so it’s our duty.”
“Oh Christ. At least give me a gun.”
“As soon as I have a spare,” Joel Kelly said and clapped me on the shoulder.
Joel nodded and moved toward the sound of the crash with his handgun ready. Reynolds moved behind me and covered us as I followed the Marine.
Then someone staggered around the side of the building, but stopped when he saw us. The guy was dressed in BDU’s. His head, face, and mustache were all covered in blood. It dribbled from a wound on his forehead that wasn’t going to stop bleeding anytime soon, unless he put a bandage on it.
“Damn, man,” I said. “You okay?”
“I don’t think he’s okay,” Reynolds said.
Joel grabbed my shirtsleeve and shook his head.
“But he looks hurt and he’s a squid—so there. You guys and your ‘always going back for your own’.”
“Dude ain’t normal. Look at him,” Reynolds said.
He was right.
The sailor advanced on us with an unsteady walk, like he was drunk off his ass. He snarled and moaned as he stumbled over his own two feet. One arm came up and that’s when I noticed that his other arm was hanging at a weird angle. Not only that, but some of his fingers were completely gone.
“Is he like one of the guys on the ship?”
“Looks like it,” Reynolds said.
“Sir. Sir!” Joel yelled and advanced.