Part 2: Overrun
“That’s when they came over the wall,” I said.
The Sergeant Major leaned forward. “How many?”
“I don’t know, Sergeant Major.”
“Estimate.”
“Twenty. Thirty. Maybe more.”
“You said Sergeant Collins estimated platoon strength,” he countered.
“He did.”
“And you agree with that estimate?”
“Sergeant Major, I was a little busy.”
He stared at me for a long, silent moment before nodding. “Go on, Corporal.”
The first one I saw came over the seawall about fifteen meters from Mitchell. I don’t know how he’d gotten that close, because one second there was nobody there, and the next, a man in dark equipment was dropping into our position with a rifle in his hands. Mitchell shot him, but then somebody shot Mitchell. It happened that fast. Mitchell fell backward and didn’t move again.
Weems shouted his name and started toward him, but Collins yelled, “Stay down!” Weems dropped flat just as a burst of fire went over his head, striking the wall behind him. Collins had saved him. Again.
Then another drone came over the wall: a small thing, about the size of a football, heading straight for Weems. Reyes and I both fired at it, but I don’t know if either of us actually hit it before it exploded.
When I looked back, Weems was gone. Not gone-gone, I mean, he was still there, but… Sorry, Sergeant Major.”
“Take your time, Corporal.”
“I don’t need time,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just…Weems and I had been together since infantry training. He owed me eighty dollars over some stupid argument about a football game, and he kept telling me he’d pay me when we got back. I used to tell him I was going to charge interest. He was twenty-two. Anyway. Weems was dead. I knew that much.”
I crawled toward Mitchell, who was lying on his side facing the wall. When I rolled him over, there was too much blood on his chest to find where it was coming from. His eyes were open, and I called his name twice, but got nothing.
Suddenly, Seals grabbed the back of my vest, shouting, “Danny! Move!” She dragged me behind a piece of broken concrete just as rounds chewed up the ground where I’d been kneeling. I remember getting angry with her, though I don’t know why. She’d just saved my life, but I kept thinking I needed to go back for Mitchell until she said, “Danny, he’s dead.” I didn’t want her to be right, but she was.
The Sergeant Major let me sit in the silence for a moment before asking, “What happened next?”
“I don’t remember everything in order, to be honest. I remember Gunny Watkins yelling into the radio, and Mercer trying to get us into a mutually supporting position. I remember Chen shouting something in Mandarin. And I remember Collins.”
He was still sitting against the wall with Doc kneeling beside him. His eyes were closed, looking like he was asleep, but he was talking constantly: “Two behind the building… Reyes, don’t shoot, that’s Seals… Mercer, they’re moving around your right… Moreno, kill that transmitter.” Every time he spoke, somebody moved, and every time somebody moved, something terrible happened right where they’d just been standing. At least, that’s how I remember it.
Moreno was trying to fight off the electronic attack, working his equipment with both hands where it was spread out beside him. He shouted that he could see their network, but Collins immediately snapped, “Don’t touch it.”
Moreno looked up, confused. “What?”
“Don’t touch that one.”
“Why?”
“It’s waiting for you.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, and neither did Moreno. Then Collins shouted, “Now! Shut it down!” Moreno did something, and the static in our radios died. For about five seconds, everything sounded eerily normal. Then Moreno’s equipment flashed, jerking him backward an instant before an explosion tore into the wall beside him.
As he went down, Nelson started toward him, but Collins caught his arm. “Don’t.”
“Mike, he’s hit.”
“I know. Seals can get him.”
Seals was already moving, crawling over to drag Moreno behind cover. His left arm was hanging wrong and blood was running down his side, but he was conscious and swearing, which I took as a good sign. Then Seals screamed. I looked over to see she’d been hit in the leg; she fell across Moreno, trying to crawl but unable to get her right leg underneath her.
I started toward them, but Collins barked, “Danny, stop!” I froze as something struck the concrete in front of me, sending a piece of shrapnel bouncing off my helmet. Collins waited a beat, then said, “Now.”
I ran, grabbing Seals under the arms to pull her back while Reyes came over to help with Moreno. Once we got them behind the wall, Nelson started working on both of them. Seals was trying not to cry, and Moreno was coherently asking where his equipment was. I remember Doc telling him that if he could worry about his gear, he wasn’t dying fast enough to be interesting. Moreno actually laughed right before he passed out.
By then, the firing was getting heavier. Marks and Chen were near the far end of the wall, trying to figure out where the Chinese were concentrating their forces. Marks called something out to Mercer that I couldn’t hear over the din, and then an explosion rocked their position. When the smoke cleared, Marks was down. Chen kept going despite Mercer shouting for him to get back, reaching Marks and attempting to drag him away. Then he just stopped, looked at Marks for a second, and let go. I knew what that meant, even if I didn’t want to. We’d lost three men in what felt like two minutes, though it could have been longer or shorter. I couldn’t tell you.
“Did you see Sergeant Marks killed?” the Sergeant Major interrupted.
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“Then how do you know he was dead?”
“Chen checked him.”
“Did you hear Corporal Chen confirm it?”
“No.”
“Did you see the body afterward?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“Sergeant Major,” I said, cutting him off. He stopped. “I know what you’re asking. You’re asking how much I actually saw. The answer is not enough. Not nearly enough.” I looked down at my hands. “But I saw Chen’s face when he came back. That’s how I knew.”
After that, Mercer ordered the withdrawal. We had hidden that Taiwanese deuce and a half we’d ‘acquired’ behind one of the buildings the day before, and while it wasn’t much to look at, it ran, and we’d kept it hidden in case we needed to haul gear. Now, it had become our only way out. Mercer told Reyes and me to go get it while Gunny Watkins started organizing the wounded with Chen’s help.
I could hear Lieutenant Mercer on the radio, he was calling in a defensive fire mission from the Regiment. I knew we were too far out in front for the Regiment’s mortars. I found out later the regiment had managed to get our DT’s fired by some old, obsolete Taiwanese 105mm artillery, I think they call them the T-63.
Doc was trying to get Collins to stand, but Collins wouldn’t budge. “Mike, we’ve got to go,” Doc urged.
“I know.”
“Then get up.”
“Can’t.”
Doc stared at him. “What do you mean, can’t?”
“Busy.”
Explosions were rattling the beach, some close enough that I could feel them in my teeth, but Collins just kept talking through it. “Drone coming in.” Something exploded overhead. “Two more.” Another detonation. “Left side, Lieutenant.” Mercer fired.
Then Collins said, very quietly, “No.”
Doc leaned closer. “What?”
“No, that’s not right.”
“What’s not right?”
Collins opened his eyes and looked straight at Nelson. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Doc went entirely still. “Mike?”
“You’re at the hospital. You told me you’d be there.”
Nelson put both hands on his shoulders, trying to ground him. “Mike. You’re on the beach. You’re with Fifth Team.”
Collins stared at him, and for a second, I thought the recognition was entirely gone. Then he blinked, the fog clearing slightly. “Doc?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry,” Collins muttered, closing his eyes again. “Get them out.”
That’s when those Taiwanese dime-nickels started dropping, and not just a few of them. I wasn’t counting, but it seemed like there were dozens of explosions, some ours, some theirs. It was hard to tell. It was time to get the fuck out of there. We were being overrun, and only the artillery was keeping them off of us.
Reyes and I ran for the truck, and he got the engine throwing sparks on the second try, sounding louder than anything else in the world. We swung it around behind the building where Watkins and Chen were waiting with the casualties. We loaded Moreno into the back first, then Seals, who screamed when we lifted her. I told her I was sorry, and she told me to go to hell, which honestly made me feel a little better.
Doc came running toward us next, half-carrying Collins, who could barely keep his feet under him. Mercer followed right behind them, firing back toward the seawall. Reyes jumped down from the cab to help them load up, and that’s when the drones came back.
There were so many of them. I remember looking up and seeing a swarm of little lights moving against the sky; some were ours and some weren’t, but I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
Collins could, though. At least, he still seemed to.
He pulled entirely away from Nelson, standing right out in the open with his eyes closed. His hands came up in front of him, his fingers moving rapidly as if he were playing an invisible piano, and suddenly those little lights started disappearing one after another. Some fell into the water, some exploded, and others simply dropped right out of the sky. Collins was doing it—he was holding them off. I don’t know how else to describe it, but he was standing there in the middle of all that chaos, and the enemy just couldn’t get through. For a few seconds, I actually thought we might make it.
Then Collins said, “Mom?”
It wasn’t loud, but I was close enough to hear him clearly. He turned his head slightly, as if somebody were standing right beside him in the dirt, and muttered, “Not now.”
Nelson shouted his name, but Collins didn’t answer.
“Mike!” Doc yelled again.
Collins just smiled—just a little bit. Then he said, “I know. I’m coming,” and fell straight down without a single word of warning. His knees completely gave out, and he hit the concrete hard.
Nelson was on him immediately, and I ran over to help. “Doc?” I breathed.
“Help me!” he panicked, and we grabbed Collins under the arms. He was completely limp, his eyes wide open but not looking at anything at all. Doc checked him over frantically before snapping, “He’s breathing. Get him in the truck.”
“Is he hit?”
“Get him in the goddamn truck, Danny!”
We lifted him, and I remember being struck by how heavy he was. That sounds stupid, I know—he was a grown man in full combat gear, so of course he was heavy—but Collins had always seemed like someone who didn’t weigh anything at all. He was the guy who could sit against a wall and halt an entire attack without moving a muscle. Now, he was just a man. A hurt man, and we had to carry him.
We got him into the back beside Seals, and Doc climbed in right after him. Watkins was already in the flatbed holding pressure on Moreno’s wound, while Mercer jumped into the passenger seat up front. With Reyes driving, Chen and I scrambled into the back just as we started pulling away.
I remember that part very clearly. I remember the truck lurching forward, and I remember looking back at the seawall to see the smoke rising over the beach. And I remember thinking that Mitchell, Weems, and Marks were still back there. We were leaving them behind because we had to, and I knew that, but knowing it didn’t make it any easier.
The Sergeant Major was quiet for a long time, letting the silence hang between us before he asked, “Did Sergeant Collins regain consciousness during the withdrawal?”
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“Did he speak?”
“No.”
“Did he respond to Petty Officer Nelson?”
“No.”
“Did you believe he was going to die?”
I thought about that for a second. “Yes, Sergeant Major.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d never seen him helpless before,” I said, before pausing to correct myself. “No, that’s not quite right. I’d seen him hurt. I’d seen him tired, and I’d seen Doc worry about him. But I’d never seen Collins unable to save us.”
The Sergeant Major slowly closed his notebook. “One last question, Corporal. Knowing what you know now, do you believe Petty Officer Nelson should have disconnected Sergeant Collins when he first requested permission?”
I didn’t answer right away. I sat there and thought about Weems, Mitchell, and Marks. I thought about Seals screaming when we lifted her into the truck, and Moreno bleeding all over Gunny Watkins. I thought about Collins standing in the open while the drones fell out of the sky, and then about him lying helpless in the back of that truck while Doc held his head and begged him to stay with us.
Finally, I said, “I don’t know, Sergeant Major. Maybe Doc should’ve pulled the plug. Maybe Collins would’ve been okay if he had.”
“And the team?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
The Sergeant Major looked at me intently. “Is there anything else you want to add to your statement?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major,” I said, looking down at my hands again. “Whatever happens to Doc, I want you to understand something. He didn’t keep Collins plugged in because he didn’t care what happened to him. He kept him plugged in because he cared what happened to the rest of us.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “And Collins knew it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he would’ve done the same thing,” I said, taking a final breath. “and that’s exactly what he did.”
The Sergeant Major looked at him for a long moment, then he opened his notebook again.
“One more thing, Corporal.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
“Corporal Reyes was operating the observation helmet that morning. The Oracle, as you call it.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
“You said Sergeant Collins warned him to remove it just before it was struck.”
“That’s right.”
“And the helmet was subsequently lost?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major. When we got overrun, we left it behind.”
“Did you see anyone take it?”
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“So you don’t know what happened to it.”
“No. We figured the Chinese picked it up. It was a pretty expensive piece of gear.”
“Did you know the Oracle was transmitting that morning?”
Shaking his head, he said: “Not for sure. Reyes had been trying to keep the uplink working, but the Chinese were messing with everything.”
“It was transmitting.”
“Okay.”
“We received a recording.”
Danny sat up a little. “Then you’ve got it?”
“We have a file.”
“Well, what’s on it?”
“Nothing.”
Looking at him in bewilderment: “What do you mean, nothing?”
“Thirty-seven minutes, Corporal. The recording contains thirty-seven minutes of nothing.”
“Like the camera was turned off?”
“No.”
“Then the Chinese jammed it.”
“That’s one possibility.”
“Well, there you go.”
“The system recorded no interruption in operation. The timestamps are intact. It reported no camera failures, no loss of sensor input, and no transmission errors.”
I waited.
“The recording is blank.”
“Black?”
“No. Blank. There are no images, no sensor overlays, no audio, no warning indicators. The system acknowledges the recording interval, but there’s nothing in it.”
“Maybe somebody erased it.”
“That’s been considered.”
“And?”
“The technical people haven’t found evidence of that.”
I shrugged.
“Sergeant Major, I’m a scout. I don’t know how that stuff works.”
“Neither do I, Corporal. Not well enough to explain this.”
That surprised Danny, the men of the unit had gotten used to him having an answer for everything. Turning a page, the Sergeant Major continued: “Corporal Reyes states that the Oracle registered an electronic warning, followed by a laser warning. He also states that Sergeant Collins ordered him to remove the helmet before it was struck.”
“That’s what happened.”
“Yet we have no recording of either warning.”
“Because the recording’s blank.”
“Correct.”
“Then I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”
“I’m asking whether you personally saw those warnings.”
“No. Reyes was wearing the helmet.”
“Did you hear the Oracle issue them?”
“No. I heard Reyes tell Collins about them.”
“And you saw the helmet struck?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
“After Sergeant Collins told Reyes to take it off?”
“Yes.”
He made a note.
“Do you believe Sergeant Collins knew the helmet was going to be hit?”
“Absolutely.”
“How?”
Danny looked like he was about to laugh. “Sergeant Major, that’s what Collins did.”
“What do you mean?”
“He knew things.”
“Things nobody else knew?”
“Yes.”
“Things nobody else could see?”
“Yes.”
The Sergeant Major stopped writing.
“And how did you know he was right?”
He appeared to be thinking about that. “Because we were still alive.”
The Sergeant Major looked at Danny for a moment. “Not all of you.”
Danny didn’t have an answer for that.
Closing his notebook, he continued: “Thank you, Corporal. That will be all.”
As he stood, Danny had one more question: “Sergeant Major?”
“Yes?”
“That recording. The thirty-seven minutes.”
“What about it?”
“Was that during the attack?”
“Yes.”
“While Collins was still linked?”
“Yes.”
In his mind, Danny stopped to think about the beach. The drones. The voices on the radio. Collins sitting against the wall with his eyes closed, telling us where to move. “That’s impossible,” he said.
The Sergeant Major looked at the closed notebook.
“That’s what the technicians said.”
I’m going to stop here for now. The rest of the story is there, but interest has been high enough that I am going to see about a publisher. There is a storyline here, and there are some surprising twists in what is going on. There is a much deeper story, and the clues are there for the astute reader. As the story continues, there are more hints there.
So far, you have seen the first two chapters, which my word processor tells me is about 8,000 words, about 57 pages, meaning there are about 100 pages you haven’t seen yet. I have written about 30,000 words so far, and that is just the beginning of what will eventually be a 100,000 word story.
There are several things happening in the story. I know where the story is headed, and I have some general idea of some things the characters don’t yet know, as well as a list of characters and the situation they are all about to find themselves in. I just don’t have the details until the characters “live” it. I am as excited to see what happens as you are.
I have the beginning and most of the ending written, I just need to fill in the middle.
I want this to be entertaining and not sound like AI garbage.
I am sure there are continuity errors like the characters changing genders. (One has already been pointed out to me, a character who started as a female and was referred to as a male later.) That’s an editing thing that I will have to fix once the story is complete. Once I am done writing it, it will take several weeks to edit the story for readability and continuity.
Because one you indicated that portions of the story sounded like they were AI generated, I passed what I have already written through three different AI detectors. Of those 30,000 words:
- One said there was no AI detected.
- A second one said 73% AI generatated. That model wouldn’t allow me to see which phrases they were unless I paid for a subscription.
- A third found a few isolated phrases (17 of them) that sounded like AI, with the longest phrase being 7 words long. A total of 57 words.
I’m a paid subscriber to the third AI scanner, which also scans my spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
As soon as I have more news on a possible publisher, I will post it. I hope you all enjoyed it.
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