Read Online Arisen, Book Six - The Horizon by Glynn James, Michael Stephen Fuchs - Free Book Online
Authors: Glynn James, Michael Stephen Fuchs
Tags: Horror, Military, Zombies, Techno-Thriller, dystopian fiction, Zombie Apocalypse, SEAL Team Six, SOF, high-tech weapons, Increment, serial fiction, fast zombies, spec-ops, naval adventure, SAS, Special Operations, supercarrier, Delta Force, Hereford
Ads: Link
already opening his mouth to ask if she was okay, but now he shut it again. Classic rock? Jesus Christ, I must be getting old…
“One nice thing about the end of the world,” she said.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“When you write your war memoirs, you can include all the song lyrics you want – without any frivolous lawsuits from the dumbasses in the music industry.”
Fick opened his mouth again, then closed it. He squinted, and just looked at her like she was some kind of alien visitor to their team room, which was pretty much the case. Finally he thought of something to say.
“In the Battle of Fallujah, the enemy blared prayers and religious songs over their loudspeakers – while we blasted Drowning Pool and Metallica over ours, twenty-four seven, just to fuck with them. Everyone started calling it Lalafallujah.”
Emily laughed. “The music festival from hell.”
Another awkward pause. Fick finally said, “Was there some actual reason you came down here?”
She hesitated, but then plunged ahead. “Well, um, Ali told me maybe you guys could use some help?” When Fick didn’t respond, she coquettishly crossed one ankle in front of the other. “Is there… anything I can do?”
Fick retrieved his cigar stub from where he had dropped it, and stuck it back in his piehole, seemingly just for the purpose of talking around it. “I don’t know,” he said, chomping. “Is there anything you can do?”
Emily smiled, because she actually got the reference. Fick was channeling Sergeant Apone from Aliens . Despite him being white, it was a nearly perfect fit. She played along, pointing at his screen. “Well, I can drive those spreadsheet macros.”
Fick’s eyebrows went north. He looked skeptical.
“Temp work. Plus computer classes at the community college.”
Relief washed over Fick’s face, as paperwork was just about the least favorite activity of every Jarhead whose job description included it. These team manifests, tab after incomprehensible tab, were making Fick really miss their lost and lamented Lieutenant, who as an over-educated officer type used to do all that crap for them.
“Be my guest,” Fick said, stepping away from the desk to make way for her. She sat down and adjusted the screen. After spending a few minutes explaining to her the tasks that needed doing, Fick happily moved across the room, looking forward to picking up something heavy.
A few minutes later, Emily removed an MP3 player from her pocket, jammed it into a USB slot on the laptop, and cranked the volume again. The laptop speakers started rattling out some edgier, more electronic-sounding rap-rock. Fick grimaced at first. But he soon found it growing on him. Marines around the room started bobbing their heads. Somebody fist-punched the air.
Sergeant Coulson looked over at Fick. “Hey, Gunny, a cute girl shows up – and your temporary command of this outfit draws to an immediate close.”
Fick stood up and jabbed an index finger in Coulson’s chest. “Hey! I’m still fuckin’ this monkey. She’s just here to take pictures.”
Emily turned around, her whole face lit up with amusement – and feigned shock.
“Don’t worry,” Coulson called across to her. “It probably won’t get any worse than this. Then again, it won’t get a whole lot better, either…”
Emily smiled, shook her head, and turned back to her work. Take my word for it, guys , she thought to herself. I’ve heard much, much worse. And lived through it, too…
And she had.
She knew she was in a safe place now.
* * *
As Sarah traversed more companionway on the lower deck, she soon passed sailors walking alone or in small groups. She nodded at a young ensign, then an enlisted woman, as they went by. Neither seemed to know quite what to make of her; though the latter seemed to want to salute, before stopping herself. But, anyway, seeing these young, sharp, evidently capable people cheered her.
She had been a very long time in the
“One nice thing about the end of the world,” she said.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“When you write your war memoirs, you can include all the song lyrics you want – without any frivolous lawsuits from the dumbasses in the music industry.”
Fick opened his mouth again, then closed it. He squinted, and just looked at her like she was some kind of alien visitor to their team room, which was pretty much the case. Finally he thought of something to say.
“In the Battle of Fallujah, the enemy blared prayers and religious songs over their loudspeakers – while we blasted Drowning Pool and Metallica over ours, twenty-four seven, just to fuck with them. Everyone started calling it Lalafallujah.”
Emily laughed. “The music festival from hell.”
Another awkward pause. Fick finally said, “Was there some actual reason you came down here?”
She hesitated, but then plunged ahead. “Well, um, Ali told me maybe you guys could use some help?” When Fick didn’t respond, she coquettishly crossed one ankle in front of the other. “Is there… anything I can do?”
Fick retrieved his cigar stub from where he had dropped it, and stuck it back in his piehole, seemingly just for the purpose of talking around it. “I don’t know,” he said, chomping. “Is there anything you can do?”
Emily smiled, because she actually got the reference. Fick was channeling Sergeant Apone from Aliens . Despite him being white, it was a nearly perfect fit. She played along, pointing at his screen. “Well, I can drive those spreadsheet macros.”
Fick’s eyebrows went north. He looked skeptical.
“Temp work. Plus computer classes at the community college.”
Relief washed over Fick’s face, as paperwork was just about the least favorite activity of every Jarhead whose job description included it. These team manifests, tab after incomprehensible tab, were making Fick really miss their lost and lamented Lieutenant, who as an over-educated officer type used to do all that crap for them.
“Be my guest,” Fick said, stepping away from the desk to make way for her. She sat down and adjusted the screen. After spending a few minutes explaining to her the tasks that needed doing, Fick happily moved across the room, looking forward to picking up something heavy.
A few minutes later, Emily removed an MP3 player from her pocket, jammed it into a USB slot on the laptop, and cranked the volume again. The laptop speakers started rattling out some edgier, more electronic-sounding rap-rock. Fick grimaced at first. But he soon found it growing on him. Marines around the room started bobbing their heads. Somebody fist-punched the air.
Sergeant Coulson looked over at Fick. “Hey, Gunny, a cute girl shows up – and your temporary command of this outfit draws to an immediate close.”
Fick stood up and jabbed an index finger in Coulson’s chest. “Hey! I’m still fuckin’ this monkey. She’s just here to take pictures.”
Emily turned around, her whole face lit up with amusement – and feigned shock.
“Don’t worry,” Coulson called across to her. “It probably won’t get any worse than this. Then again, it won’t get a whole lot better, either…”
Emily smiled, shook her head, and turned back to her work. Take my word for it, guys , she thought to herself. I’ve heard much, much worse. And lived through it, too…
And she had.
She knew she was in a safe place now.
* * *
As Sarah traversed more companionway on the lower deck, she soon passed sailors walking alone or in small groups. She nodded at a young ensign, then an enlisted woman, as they went by. Neither seemed to know quite what to make of her; though the latter seemed to want to salute, before stopping herself. But, anyway, seeing these young, sharp, evidently capable people cheered her.
She had been a very long time in the
Similar Books
