Five Roads To Texas (Book 10): Salvation Page 17

  Even though the rocket blast was a distance away from them, the blast wave had almost knocked Woo-Jinn off his motorcycle. The sergeant floundered in his attempt to regain control of his motorcycle and struck the curb causing him to fall over. Woo-Jinn hit the concrete hard on his right shoulder. Along with the bike falling on top of him, bits of asphalt, metal, and wood splinters rained down on him.

  Cursing, the sergeant rolled out from underneath the motorcycle and painfully got to his feet and felt a stabbing pain in his right thigh. Looking down he saw a piece of human rib bone stuck into the meaty part of his leg. Cursing, Woo-Jinn pulled the bone from his thigh and tossed it away. Wincing in pain, he swore he’d make Ramacher suffer quite slowly for this.

  Rubbing his injured leg, the Korean soldier glanced ahead for the other rider. The motorcycle trooper was out of his sight, still in pursuit of the Americans. ‘Good’ Woo-Jinn nodded to himself. ‘Good.’ The sergeant bent down to retrieve the bike when a sharp pain suddenly shot through his shoulder causing him to let go of the motorcycle and stumble backward. The sergeant let out a deep groan as he realized he’d probably dislocated his shoulder during his spill.

  “No!” Woo-Jinn growled and kicked the bike with his booted left foot, striking the frame and

  jamming up his big toe. “Fuck!” The sergeant screamed at the new pain. “Fuck!” He glanced around expecting to see the infected. Nothing.

  “At least some good luck.” Woo-Jinn sarcastically mumbled to himself. The sergeant again bent down to lift the downed motorcycle and found himself in immense pain. With his damaged shoulder, there was no way he’d be able to get back on the motorcycle. Woo-Jinn let out a scream of anguish and hopelessness. The sergeant tried to draw his handgun without screaming in pain and found it almost impossible to lift.

  Horrified his journey might end here, Woo-Jinn vainly attempted to shove the barrel of the handgun against his head. Unable to raise his arm high enough without almost blacking out, the sergeant quickly gave up the thoughts of suicide. In fact he couldn’t believe he’d so easily thought of quitting, of giving up. Cursing Lieutenant Kang, he composed himself and started limping off in the direction he had last seen the Americans. The sergeant could only hope the other motorcycle soldier would be able to catch that damned Ramacher.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  NOW I HAVE THAT SONG IN MY HEAD

  Salton City, AZ

  For some reason that old Ronnie James Dio song, ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was running through his head. It was one of those songs his old man would always have in the CD player in his truck. He swore his father, back then, had a secret program to brainwash Wez and his siblings to love 80’s hair bands. The Tech Sergeant chuckled as he checked over his M4, it had worked.

  Whenever he had found himself in a combat situation, 80’s rock became his battle soundtrack. Wez shook his head, at least his old man hadn’t been into Disco music. No one ever went into battle humming a Bee Gees tune. ‘Oh, shit’ Wez thought to himself, now he had ‘Stayin’ Alive’ stuck in his head.

  “Fuck me.” The team sergeant grumbled aloud.

  “Sarge?” FNG asked from behind the wheel of the Maverick.

  “Nothing.” Wez said, getting himself into a better position to fire from. In the rear of the ATV Candy stood behind the roll bar mounted M240 machine gun. The three soldiers were now kitted up in multi cam ballistic helmets and headsets.

  “Dio?” Candy asked, speaking into his headset.

  “No.” Wez replied tersely as the ATV wound its way into the besieged town.

  “Scorpions?” The sergeant asked, having worked with Wez long enough to know the team leader fought to the 80’s metal in his head.

  “No.”

  “Then who?”

  “Bee Gees. Stayin Alive.” Wez replied, a little embarrassed at having told the other two. “Watch out for that truck.” He pointed out an abandoned bread van that straddled the street.

  “Copy that.” FNG nodded as he steered them around it.

  “Stayin Alive.” Wez repeated into his headset mic. Of all the fucking songs to subconsciously pick up on.

  “Fuck bro.” Candy cautiously watched the area around them. He could smell the explosives and feel the heat. “Now I have that stupid song stuck in my head.”

  “You’re welcome.” Wez raised his rifle and glanced through the optics, clear so far. He could hear the chopper in the distance along with sporadic weapons fire.

  “No infected in this section of town.” FNG drove over a small pile of bricks that had been blown into the street.

  “Meat bags are probably all where the action is, FNG. They love noise.” “Especially loud noises. Explosions and shit.” Candy added.

  “Expect a party when we get to where we’re going.” Wez continued to sweep the streets around them with his rifle's optics. “Hopefully we won’t be the fucking appetizers.”

  “I didn’t come here just to get eaten by a group of pants shitters.” Candy spun the weapon to the left looking for possible targets. “I came to shoot down an enemy chopper. How many CCT’s can say they shot down one of those without air support, eh?”

  FNG just nodded as he pulled the ATV onto another street, this one was closer to where the helicopter hovered, attacking the fence line. The three Airmen could barely see the rear of the aircraft as it unloaded two more Hellfire missiles on the civilian structures below it. The ground rolled beneath them as the missiles impacted and exploded. The Senior Airman’s hands trembled on the steering wheel as he continued in the same direction of the deadly UN helicopter. FNG had never been in this kind of assault, and he found that his adrenaline was getting the better of him.

  “Relax FNG.” Wez dabbed him with his left fist on the shoulder. “Just get us closer.”

  “Be chilly bro.” Candy told the younger soldier as he readied the M240 to fire. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  “Pull the Mav in behind that building.” Wez pointed at a run-down auto shop. “We’ll go in on foot.”

  “Look Sarge.” FNG said. “I can maneuver us in close behind the chopper. No worries. We won’t have to hump it in. Save us some time and trouble.”

  “I don’t know, sounds kind of risky.”

  “Kid’s right for once, it would be faster.” Candy added.

  “Sargent, I was top of my class in the Executive Protection Course. I can get us there!” FNG told the two NCO’s.

  “They let you take that course?” “Sure did, it’s a long story.”

  Wez quickly thought it over then nodded back at the Senior Airman.

  “Alright. Get us there, Speed Racer. How come you never told us that shit before.” “You never asked.” FNG replied as he carefully maneuvered them down the street. “Good point.”

  “Ace, how about that for a nickname?” FNG smirked.

  “Get us there in one piece and then we’ll see.” Wez said as he continued to watch the surrounding areas for enemy soldiers. “Executive Protection Course. Who gets that crap?” “Apparently Ace does.” Candy said sweeping the M240 around looking for soft targets.

  “Don’t start with that shit Candy!”

  The thrum of the helicopters rotors and the sound of her machine guns firing grew louder and nearer. The heat and smell of battle was now upon them. Wez and Candy watched for any signs of the North Korean troops as they sped closer to their airborne threat. Most of the invading troops seemed to be ahead of the helicopter and pushing forward on the other side of the town. From inside an open doorway, Wez suddenly saw a muzzle flash. It was too late. A round hit the side of the ATV, then another one sliced through FNG’s throat, barely creasing the top of the Sergeant’s ball cap. The wounded Airman instantly let go of the Mavericks steering wheel and fell heavily into Wez's shoulder.

  “FNG!” Candy shouted as he angrily started to unload the M240 into the building where he thought the shots had come from.

  “Fuck!” Wez cursed as he struggled to grab the steering wheel over his inj
ured teammate's body. Blood spurted all over both men as the Sergeant gripped the wheel with his right hand and slapped his left tightly over the fresh hole in the Airman’s neck. Horrifyingly enough, he could hear the Airman’s sad gurgles as he struggled to breathe, over the loud barking of the M240. Hot brass rained down on the two soldiers in the front of the ATV adding to the chaos.

  FNG‘s foot slipped off the accelerator as he slumped backward causing the vehicle to considerably slow it’s speed. Trying to keep his cool, Wez used his right hand to pull them off the road and into some cover behind a row of burning buildings. The helicopter rocket attacks set the fence line burning, and now some of the flaming debris had in turn landed on the nearby roofs of several buildings. In time, the whole town would be engulfed in flames.

  “Hold on Colin!” Wez said, using FNG’s first name. “I got you brother!” The sergeant still held a hand tightly on his neck as he tried to extract the gravely wounded airman from the passenger’s side of the ATV. Rounds from the North Koreans that had ambushed them, struck the side of the Maverick. Candy fired another burst in the enemy soldiers direction then quickly grabbed a couple smoke grenades from a pack inside the vehicle. He pulled the pins and tossed them both across the street, hoping the smoke would give them some modicum of cover. Swiftly removing the 240 from its mount, he squatted down behind the rear of the Maverick.

  “Wez?”

  “Just keep us covered, Candy!” The other sergeant could hear the stress in Wez's voice. “No worries there, essay! How’s our boy doing?”

  “He took a round to the throat.”

  “No fucking bueno.” Candy cursed under his breath and fired off a burst into the rolling clouds of smoke. He glanced back over at the Tech sergeant, who was trying his damndest to keep the young Airman alive. The staff sergeant saw the large puddle of blood around FNG’s head and neck, sadly, he knew it was probably a losing battle the kid was fighting. There was a loud crack as a round from the Koreans struck the metal frame next to him. Candy cursed in Spanish and angrily returned fire.

  “Putas!”

  Wez, still holding his left hand over the wound, started to frantically open his med kit when FNG tightly grabbed his right wrist. The Tech sergeant, surprised, quickly looked down at the wounded Airman and saw him spit up some blood, then weakly mutter. “Sorry sarge…”

  “Colin, I got ya! Hold on brother, just hold on!” The Airman let out a long, ragged breath and with a violent shudder, stopped moving, his eyes rolling upward. “Colin!”

  “Shit!” Above the din of battle, Candy could hear Wez yelling behind him. Without even looking, he knew FNG was gone. The damage to the kids body was just too much. In anger he fired a couple more bursts toward the enemy soldiers direction then grabbed the hot 240 and moved back to where his sergeant was futilely trying to resuscitate the dead airman. Taking a knee, he firmly grabbed the grief stricken Wez by the shoulder.

  “He’s gone brother, he’s gone.” The senior NCO forcefully shrugged out of Candy’s grip and continued CPR on the lifeless airman. Candy knew if they didn’t move now, the Koreans would probably try to flank them. The Norks do that and they’d more than likely end up dead meat.

  This time, Candy grabbed him by the shoulders and jerked the sergeant away from FNG. Candy then hastily turned Wez around so they were face to face. “Wez, he’s dead. We can’t help him, but we have to move! The fucking Norks are trying to flank us!” A few rounds from the badly aimed Korean’s rifles smacked the ground close by, the noise seemed to draw Wez out of his sorrow filled stupor. The Tech sergeant pounded Candy on the shoulder with a blood-stained gloved fist and nodded.

  “Help me get the kid in the back of the Mav, then we’ll kill that fucking chopper!”

  “Hells yes!” Candy turned and moved to the rear of the ATV. He braced his shoulder against the side of the vehicle, brought the 240 up and fired another burst into the billowing clouds of smoke from the grenades. The sergeant begrudgingly set the 240 against the side of the vehicle then spun back around to where Wez was starting to lift FNG by his shoulders. He grabbed the tall airman by the legs and swiftly helped the Tech Sergeant, respectfully as possible in the situation, place him in the rear of the Maverick. The dead man was so tall his booted feet hung limply over the side of the ATV. Candy shook his head, knowing it was the best they could do at the time. He grabbed up the M240 as Wez slid past him into the driver's seat. The Koreans' aim was getting better as the smoke started to thin out. Candy, a thickly muscled man built like a fire hydrant, climbed into the passenger's seat and set the barrel of the big gun on the skinny dashboard.

  “Let’s kill that fucker for Harris.”

  “For Harris.” Wez said almost under his breath. Several bullets whizzed by them as he started up the ATV and quickly turned them down another side street toward where the helicopter was continuing it’s strafing run on the town. The Sergeant was determined to make someone pay for the death of the young airman.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  SOUNDS DELIGHTFUL

  Somewhere in Arizona

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Reese angrily kicked the side of the big U-Haul truck. “A flat fucking tire?”

  “These tires are shit.” Dutch was kneeling down next to the front passenger's side of the truck's cab. He ran a hand across the big gash that ran across the top of the well-worn tire. “Looks slashed.” Dutch glanced back at the rest of the mercenaries that were gathered next to the truck.

  “Slashed?” Foz said as he took a drag from one of his nasty cigarillos. “How is that possible?” “Dutch?” Reese crossed his arms.

  “Something in the road.” The Ex medic stood up and wiped his hands on his fatigue pants. He noticed about a couple dozen or so vehicles stripped and abandoned on both sides of the road. Obvious victims of the horrendous things that now plagued the world but nothing that could be harmful to their rides were apparent on the asphalt.

  “We didn’t see shit, you know what I mean?” Zap said looking over at Webb for confirmation. The other man was in the middle of drinking from a water bottle. He quickly finished and wiped his bearded mouth.

  “Yeah.” Webb nodded. “The Road was clear. Just those stupid wrecks on the side. Hell, you guys were ahead of us.”

  “Hmmm.” Dutch glanced back and forth at the wreckage on either side of the road. Something bothered him about it.

  “Of all the vehicles, gotta be the honey wagon.” Hobbs spat some chew on the ground. “That’s gonna be a bitch to change, Zap.”

  “This is gonna put us even further behind.” Reese looked around at their surroundings. Nothing but desert scrub, foothills, dirt, and the dozens of steel skeletons of abandoned vehicles. “Zap, Webb, best you two geniuses get to changing that tire. We lose that cheese dick Ramacher because of this, I ain’t gonna be real easy to live with.” He grabbed Zap and Webb tightly by the shoulders. “Get me?”

  “Yeah, yeah!” Webb nodded his head faster than anyone thought was humanly possible. “I get you, I-I get you!” Zap winced in pain.

  “Good.” Reese let go of both men and shoved them forward. “Change the fucking tire! The rest of you fan out and make us a secure perimeter. We don’t need any more surprises today.” “Want Hobbs and I to go ahead?” Dutch asked as the two men scurried away to fix the U-Haul. The other mercenaries walked away from the truck looking for any possible threats to the small caravan.

  “No.” Reese absently wiped the creases out of his Eat A Dick T-shirt, as if Zap or Webb had left some of their flop sweat on him. “No. We’ll go as a team.”

  “Don’t trust us?” Dutch chuckled.

  “Actually Dutch, you're the only one I trust.” Reese smirked. “We start breaking up the band and with this bunch, it’s just straight up anarchy.”

  “True.” The other man chuckled as he watched Zap struggle with changing the truck's tire. “It’s kinda a weird vibe out here Sarge. Maybe I’ll check out those wrecks.”

  “Looks like they’ve bee
n here awhile.” Reese chuckled. “It’s the desert man. Reminds me of that old Cadillac Ranch.”

  “ ‘Cept they ain’t Caddies. This is some bad ju ju Reese.” Dutch told the other man. “I don’t like it.”

  “Flat on a fucking cheap tire, there’s your ju ju.” Reese grumbled. “Leave it to deodorant phobic Zap to find the needle in the asshole. We get it fixed, we get the fuck outta here. Comprende amigo? Besides, nobody screws with us.” He patted his sidearm. “They get the wrath of God himself if they do.”

  “Sure Sarge.” Dutch nodded, still not convinced this was just an accident.

  “U-Haul didn’t have the best tires. Maybe when we hit civilization somewhere we can bag some better wheels or even a sweet brand-new honey wagon.”

  “Alright Reese. If you don’t mind, I'm going to check out those vehicle remains. Just to settle my gut.”

  “Sounds delightful Dutch.” Reese waved him off then headed back over to the Escalade. “Settle your gut. Believe me though, it’s just more shit smeared on this dookie sandwich we call life nowadays. Let me know when the brain trust is finished. I’m going back to the rig and get some cool air. Place is like being back in the sandbox.”

  “Copy that.” Dutch ran a hand across his bearded face then turned back to the U-Haul. Usually Reese would be more proactive on things, maybe the sergeant was just tired. Dutch shook his head and glanced over at the U-Haul. Zap almost had the big wheel free as Webb stood nearby resting a hand on top of the spare. Glad it wasn’t him having to change the tire in this heat, he headed over to the big Ford truck. Dutch figured he might as well check out the wrecked cars while he was waiting. Something was bugging his gut even if Reese was discounting it. He’d left his rifle in the truck and damned if he wasn't going to check out those abandoned vehicles without the M4. Sweating, he ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, it was hot but not sandbox hot, he chuckled to himself. He didn’t miss that heat.