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6
Landon
GySgt. Fuimaono popped the hatch over the driver seat as the AAV came to a stop at the small gate a short distance away from the main one on the other side of the freeway and Landon lifted the crew chief hatch behind him. He met Sgt. Sierra’s eyes as the Marine rested against the .50 caliber heavy barreled machine gun mounted on the top of the vehicle and both men shook their heads as Gunny lit off a string of expletive curses.
“I’m sorry Gunnery Sergeant. Orders are that no one is allowed outside,” the Marine standing watch stuttered as he stood in front of the AAV.
Cpl. Hemming poked his head into the front compartment. “What’s going on out there?”
“Now listen here, you boot licking POG. You open this gate or I’m driving through it,” GySgt. Fuimaono snarled. The color drained from the Marine’s face and he staggered back, looking around for someone to help him enforce the rules.
Landon whistled softly, drawing the gate guard’s attention, while a low chuckle built in his chest. “I wouldn’t test him if I were you.” Sgt. Sierra’s hands twitched as he reached for the machine gun.
“Seriously, guys,” Cpl. Hemming whispered from the darkness below. “What’s happening?”
A group of Marines ran to the gate, manually pushing it open behind the guard’s back.
He lowered his rifle in shock, turning to stare at them. “Orders say…”
“Do you know who that is?” one of the Marines snapped at the guard. The rest of their conversation was drowned out as GySgt. Fuimaono drove through the open gate with the van following and the second AAV bringing up the rear. The gate closed behind them, separating them from base, and leaving them outside in the real world.
Landon shrugged off his hastily thrown together daypack filled with a few extras from HM3 Cooper’s med bag and some gear GySgt. Fuimaono had managed to scavenge from medical sometime last night. He hadn’t asked what Chief Elyse had said about this mission, but he was sure he’d hear about it when he returned.
He rested his arms on the top of the vehicle and scanned the area as they continued their advance. The windows of the gas station outside the base were busted out and a hand pump was rigged to the underground storage tanks. Those who weren’t preoccupied with digging through the remnants of the store stood in line in front of the men who guarded the pump, holding bags of possessions to exchange for a fill up of three and five-gallon containers.
Past the gas station and under the overpass, hundreds of people turned to the noise of the heavy vehicles’ tracks. Their feet stomped on the discarded water bottles and MRE wrappers that lined the asphalt as they rushed to the convoy.
“Stay back!” Landon shouted as Sgt. Sierra maneuvered the machine gun, taking aim. The crowd hesitated, staring with wide eyes as the vehicles passed them by.
The mid-morning sun beat down on their heads as GySgt. Fuimaono maneuvered the vehicle around road blocks and away from the chaos at the gate. Everything was deserted. No cars in the business parking lots, no traffic moving down the highway. Stoplights hung suspended without purpose. Those that were out walked along the side of the once busy streets slowly, dragging bags or pushing shopping carts and staying away from other groups.
The desperation in their eyes when they watched the convoy pass brought back a flood of memories from patrols in war torn countries ravaged by disaster. Landon hardened his face and focused on the street names instead.
LCpl. Wallis’s apartment complex was near here. She honked the horn from the duty van just as they pulled to the intersection. But GySgt. Fuimaono was already turning, crushing the sidewalk under the heavy tracks.
Stunned faces peered over balcony railings and smoke from compact barbecue grills drifted down to the parking lot as the AAVs moved forward to provide a barrier in front of the van. Sgt. Sierra and Sgt. Forges readied the machine guns.
“Make it fast,” GySgt. Fuimaono growled over his shoulder as Landon dropped down from the crew chief hatch and made his way through the back compartment and out of the open doors.
Cpl. Hemming already had his M4 on point and the men moved as one behind LCpl Wallis who had jumped from the driver seat and was sprinting across the parking lot.
“Mommy!” A little girl came flying down the outside stairwell with the beads in her braids catching the wind as she threw herself into Wallis’s arms. The Marine staggered back on the steps, shaking as she squeezed her daughter against her chest and weeping against the top of her head.
Landon turned to sweep the ground beneath them with his rifle and give the woman a moment of privacy. Cpl. Hemming released his grip on his weapon as he dug in his pocket for the can of dip.
“Where’s your sister and your dad?” LCpl. Wallis composed herself as she set the girl back on the steps.
“We’re here babe,” a distraught voice called from the landing.
“What happened to her?” LCpl. Wallis screamed as she took the steps two at a time. Landon jumped into action, chasing after Wallis to the muscular man with tattoos covering his shoulders who stood shaking, holding a little girl in his arms as if she was a fragile doll.
“She woke up like this.” Wallis’s husband dropped to his knees, still cradling the girl to his chest as the Marine ran her hands over her daughter’s face.
“Mama’s here,” she cried, pressing her lips to the girl’s forehead. Wallis turned to Landon with tears in her eyes. “She’s burning up, Doc. Can you fix her?”
“I don’t do pediatric medicine.” Landon squatted beside them and shrugged off his daypack. “Has she had a cough? Flu like symptoms?” He reached for the girl’s limp wrist and found the rapid pulse.
“Nothing like that.” The man shook his head. “She has been tugging at her ear for the past few days but I gave her the last of the drops.”
