New Eden (Chapter 33)

43.2K 1.9K 1.1K
                                    

Our first pass through the aftermath was search and rescue. Out of all the Camp Fox survivors, New Eden soldiers, and bandits, we found only one person who wasn't dead or near-death. Marco, a soldier from New Eden, had taken a shot to his helmet and had been knocked out cold. When he woke, it took him some time to come to grips with the loss of his entire squadron. For the first few minutes, he moved restlessly around, counting vehicles and searching for his squadron. When he finally realized they were all there and he was the only one left standing, he collapsed.

Once Marco came to terms with reality, Clutch asked him several questions while I sat and stared at the fires. The HEMTT continued to smoke, but no more flames licked out from the vehicle. I could only imagine the smell of so many dead inside. I tried not to think about any of the bodies belonging to someone I cared about. There'd be too much time for thinking later.

New Eden was a new super-city in Colorado formed by the military at Cheyenne Mountain. Dozens of squadrons just like Marco's had been sent out with the sole mission to save any survivors they could after the herds passed through. On their mission, they'd run across a feudalistic, ruthless group called the Black Sheep that was quickly spreading across the Midwest. The bandits who'd taken us hostage were from that group, and Marco showed us the mark on one of the bandit's body: a brand of a ram's head with curled horns.

"At least we got all these guys," Marco said. "If any got back to their captain, they'd likely come back at us with a vengeance."

I shook my head. "No. Their leader got away."

Marco's face fell before fear widened his eyes. "He'll bring back reinforcements."

Clutch climbed to his feet. "We'll be out of here long before then. But we should hurry and get wrapped up here, just in case."

I looked up to see Clutch holding a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me up and into an embrace. Strangely, I never cried, even knowing that I'd never see Jase again, or anyone from Camp Fox, again. It broke my heart, but my brain refused to process anything. It felt like I was on autopilot, and the circuit breaker to my emotions had been turned off, and I was thankful for that small mercy.

Later, as I walked around and inventoried the wreckage, Clutch and Marco collected dog tags and carried the dead of those we knew as close to the burning store as we could in hopes the fire would take care of them before the zeds found them. When we came to Tyler's body, neither Clutch nor I could move. For the longest time, I simply stared at Tyler's limp form. I noticed Clutch did the same. His lips quivered, then he sobered and we carried Tyler away from the burning building and laid him under a tree. Clutch walked back to a Humvee and returned with a shovel. As he started digging a hole, I also grabbed a shovel and helped.

The ground was soft, but it still took a while to dig a shallow grave. Clutch grabbed Tyler's shoulders and I grabbed his legs and we lowered him as gently as possible. We stared down at Tyler's peaceful, though bloodied, features.

"Lord," Clutch said. "Bless this soldier who gave his life in the service of others. Watch over his grave so that he finds peace."

"Amen," I said with him. It was the first time I'd heard Clutch pray.

"Sorry for your loss," Marco said.

Startled, I turned around, not realizing he was standing there. I swallowed, unable to find any words. It wasn't that I was hollow inside. Anger, terror, despair, grief, misery, it was all there but isolated in a safe room. I could feel the emotions boiling like a volcano, but there was a heavy, cold stone covering the top of the volcano, letting nothing escape. It was like my body and spirit had split and were fighting to come back together.

Deadland's Harvest (part 2 of the Deadland Saga)Where stories live. Discover now