Previously posted on Substack
“Hey Hudson, you there, its Hood?” The rumble of Hoods voice was the 2nd most attention getting voice Hudson knew. The other was Kats, when she spoke, my heart would usually skip a beat, her voice and her sly smile when she saw me respond was something to die for. Oh…bad thought, that is a complicated idea when dealing with her. But other than her and her seductive voice and crystal blue eyes, Hoods classic MSG [Master Sergeant ], all business voice was right up there, if you know what I mean.
“Copy.” I replied, of course I was here where the hell else would I be? Despite having been hung out to dry more than three times by the Army, in the span of just a few days while Russians stormed through Western Germany like a horde of Conan’s, yeah that powerful and damn was that not a fine ass movie?
Right now we were, doing that last ditch, no really! Really! Last ditch defense according to head quarters of a ‘key bridge’. I’d heard this story before. It was key, but there were no reinforcements. If I was lucky some fly boy would drop a few hundred pounds of HE, or if I was having a super fricken awesome day we actually get field arty to knock out what was coming. What was coming was a lot! The forward posts had returned with a count. They counted more than a dozen T-80s, nearly a full battalion of soldiers and BMP’s. A LOT of BMPs. The kind that eat our three little Abrams for breakfast. But that’s ok. It was a Tuesday, at least I think it is. So no matter. Another fine day in the Army.
I was still doing my job. Ya know? ‘Cause that is what ruck humping losers like me do. We follow orders, the dumber the better. I pulled the Walkman headphones off my ear to listen to the commanding voice blast over the walkie talkie. This dude Prince was jamming out some song “Lets go Crazy”. Seemed appropriate. Its from some movie one of my crew was telling me. I ain’t much into musicals but this had some solid licks so I was listening to his cassette tape and keeping a beat while we sighting in the ATGM and made sure our last three Abrams were hull down and as dug in as we could make them in the muck of a soggy May in 1985.
“So, Jacob. There is something you need to know.” Aww shit, he has got bad news, I can tell, he never called me Jacob but one time when things got weird about ten days ago. Of course, he didn’t really know I knew weird. No, I did. While on the outside I’m just a ground pounder, trigger puller, I’ve seen the weird, hell I slept with it. This won’t be good is my point. A bad day was about to be worse.
He continued, “remember the time you shot that dude in Witzhave? The one who somehow survived your ventilating him? Like in that movie the Night of the Comet? How shit got weird for those two girls.”
I broke in laughing, “Wait Sarge are you telling me that you saw Night of the Comet a Zombie movie?”
“STFU and listen.” Growled Hood. “They are here.”
“who is here? The girls? Did I hear you right” I said, with a small smile in my voice.”
“Hudson, not funny, there are, “he paused, took a shuddering breath and spoke quietly. “there are a lot of shambling, broken, foot dragging, dismembered, putrid bodies headed our way. Just like that bastard you shot. Twice.”
Well, at this point I don’t know what to say, I’m not in charge you see, oh I am, like I get a much bigger say in what we do, since I seem to always end up on the pointy end of all of it. But I am not due to my rank. Its more like any time shit get weird, I seem to be leaned on as some sort of expert, some savant of the supernatural. All because the woman I happened to sleep wit once, ok it was more than once but anyway the woman in the tight jeans and jet black hair did surreal things to our enemies. Does that automatically qualify me as some sort of fricking expert? I really don’t see that do you?
‘Well.’ I said. ‘We know they do eventually die. You better conserve ammo and use head shots if I were you.’
That’s it? That’s all you got to God Damned say Hudson? Shoot straight. What the hell is going on son? You need to find your girlfriend and get us the hell out of here. How are we supposed to fight the Russians and the freaking undead? Why guys are mag dumping, like there is no tomorrow”
“Well ahh Hood, if it s all the same, I’m up on this hill looking at a horde of Russians to the East and another equally large mass of your undead friends too.’ My headset bumped closer to the walkie talkie, just as ‘Lets Go Crazy’ wound up its amazing guitar solo. ‘I think there is something you need know, its kind of obvious. I’d say ‘Lets NOT go Crazy’ because either way we got to hold the bridge, but at the end of the day either the Zombies things kill us or the Soviets. I know which one I prefer, lets stick to the plan, Hudson out.’