These Dead Lands: Immolation (59 page)

“Thanks for this, sir,” Guerra said, indicating the rifles.

“No sweat.” Hastings looked around the barracks. It was after 2300 hours, and the kids were all asleep, including Kenny. So were Reader and Stilley, and Everson snored away under his blanket a few rows away. Diana was lying on her bunk, fully clothed, hands folded across her flat stomach. She regarded Hastings with hooded eyes, and something about her inspection of him made him uncomfortable. Hastings looked around. Everyone was accounted for… except Carl and Kay Ballantine.

“Where’s Ballantine?” he asked Guerra.

“Oh…uh…” Guerra cleared his throat. “Um, he’s probably taking a shower.” His face reddened. “With Mrs. Ballantine.”

It took Hastings a second to register what that meant. “Oh. Well.”

“Hooah, Big Sarge,” Slater said with a smile. “Getting himself some one-on-one action before the fight. Guess he’s not such a lunkhead after all.”

Guerra grinned. “Yeah, right?”

Hastings checked his watch. “Okay guys. Let’s get together at zero five thirty for a meeting. We have some items to discuss before we get back to setting up the defenses and prepping for the reekers. I want all the troops up and ready, and we’ll need Everson, as well. You too, Slater.”

“I was hoping to sleep in tomorrow, sir,” Slater said.

Guerra smirked. “He was planning on spending a long two minutes with his happy sock, so he’ll need his rest.”

Slater looked indignant. “Son, I need the plural. As in socks, in case you don’t know what plural means.”

“Just stay away from mine, Sergeant,” Guerra warned.

“Zero five thirty, guys,” Hastings repeated. “And you might want to get up a bit earlier so you can wash your socks.”

With that, Hastings headed for his own bunk. He sat down heavily on the thin mattress. Half the lights had been shut off, leaving the rear part of the barracks in darkness. He put his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. He felt beard stubble and decided he’d shave before he went to bed. For the moment, the latrine was off limits. He’d have to wait until the Ballantines came up for air. He pulled his hands away from his face and saw Diana still stretched out on her bunk and looking at him.

Hastings spread his hands. “Something I can do for you?”

“Loaded question,” she replied.

“Sorry?”

She turned on her side so that she faced him. Her T-shirt pulled tight against her chest, and Hastings could plainly see the outlines of her nipples beneath the thin fabric.

Diana rested her head on one of her hands and favored him with an arch smile. “See any
things
you like, Phil?”

Hastings looked away. His embarrassment was a dull sensation, almost nullified by the exhaustion he felt. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like it.”

Hastings frowned. “You like what?”

“You. Looking at me.”

And there it was, an outright invitation, if he had ever heard one. Hastings didn’t know whether to laugh, get angry, or feel intrigued. The world was coming to a tumultuous halt, an army of carnivorous corpses was descending on the Gap, and the biggest firefight Hastings had participated in was on the agenda for the following day. And in the middle of all that, Diana Li wanted to get laid.

“Thought you were on your cycle,” he muttered.

“Ended today. And I’m really sorry about what you’ve gone through and all, but it does look like you might have some time. Plus, you’re the only guy I like around this place.”

Slater trudged past, heading toward his bunk. If he’d heard any part of their conversation, he didn’t show it. He glanced at Kenny but didn’t break stride.

Diana rolled into a sitting position and leaned toward Hastings until their faces were less than a foot apart. Hastings didn’t move. He was surprised at the conflict in his mind, a weird mixture of shame and sudden lust that made him feel ridiculous.

Her eyes gleamed in the semidarkness as her dark gaze locked onto his. “Besides, you’ve already seen me naked. I know you liked it,” she said.

“Look.” Hastings leaned away from her a bit. “Look, this really isn’t the time for this.”

“Why’s that? The zombies are coming. You’ll be out there fighting them, while I’ll be here, watching this kid. What if you get killed? What if
I
get killed? Lots of things can go totally sideways over the next couple of days… maybe even over the next couple of hours. Can’t really bank on there being a better time, Phil.”

“You’re, um, such the sweet talker.”

“You expected a love poem or something?” Diana asked. Her sudden smile made her look years younger as the worry and stress she normally carried in her face disappeared. “My God, do I have to court you, like something out of a Jane Austen novel?”

“I’ve never read any, so I guess I don’t know,” Hastings said.

“Well, look at it this way.” She reached out and put one hand on his knee. “I guarantee you you’ll sleep tonight. And damn well.” As she spoke, she slowly moved her hand along the inside of his thigh. The contact was almost electric, and he reached down and covered her hand with his, halting its progress up his thigh.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “But now’s not the time.”

“So when
will
it be time? Never?”

“Yeah. Maybe never.”

Diana looked at him for a long moment then leaned back. She pulled her hand away, her fingertips trailing along his leg as it retreated. Hastings felt a peculiar sense of disappointment when the contact was broken, but he recognized it for what it was: simple, mindless lust.

Followed by a sudden bolt of despair. It should have been Terry sitting across from him, not some half-crazy Asian stripper. And it should have been Scotty lying sprawled beneath the blanket on the next bunk, not an autistic boy who couldn’t really talk and only ate jalapeño cheese spread on crackers.

Diana crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’re going to Boy Scout your way out of this, huh?”

“My family’s dead,” Hastings said flatly. “I’m not really good for anything other than shooting zombies right now.”

After a lengthy pause, Diana slowly nodded. “That’ll change.”

Hastings snorted humorlessly. “Will it really?”

“Yeah. It will.” She smiled, and again, she looked like a carefree young woman instead of the world-weary sex worker she once was. “Trust me. I went to NYU.”

Hastings grinned. Right then, the Ballatines emerged from the shower area, fully dressed but radiating a healthy glow. Kay didn’t make eye contact with Hastings as she walked directly to the two bunks that had been pushed together.

Hastings nodded at Ballantine. “Thought we were going to have to send in the fire guards.”

“Um, really?” Ballantine responded. It was probably one of the clumsiest evasions Hastings had ever witnessed.

“Get some sleep, Carl.”

“Yes, sir. You too.”

Hastings looked back at Diana. Her expression seemed to say,
Okay, is it our turn now?
He sighed and got to his feet. “You should rest,” he told her. “Big day tomorrow, and no one knows how things are going to play out. I’m going to give people a quick briefing at five thirty in the morning, so you might want to be up for that.”

“Gosh, General. I’ll have to check my calendar.”

Hastings started toward the latrine. “Hey, whatever you need to do,” he said over his shoulder.

*

“Dudes, you should
have seen it last night,” Tharinger said. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the barracks were still mostly quiet as people slowly roused.

“What do you mean?” Reader asked around his toothbrush. A loud, explosive fart ripped through the room, and he turned toward the closed toilet stall behind him. “Damn, Stilley!”

“Hey, delivering a package can be tough,” Stilley said from behind the door. He then let loose another fart, one that rippled like a machine gun.

Tharinger, Reader, and Hartman broke out laughing at the line of sinks.

“Dude, you got a Ma Deuce in there with you?” Hartman asked.

“Rounds—” Stilley’s voice sounded strained, and an instant later, several objects splashed into toilet water. “Rounds out!” he finished, gasping.

“Fuck, where’s the air freshener?” Tharinger asked.

Reader slapped him on the shoulder. “So what were you gonna say, man? What happened last night?”

“Well, while you and Stilley were sacked out, I saw Diana putting the moves on the captain. Damn, I thought she was gonna yank his pants down and blow him right in the middle of the room!”

“I thought that was Stilley’s job,” Reader said.

“Homey don’t play that!” Stilley brayed, just before releasing another explosion of gas. “
Damn
those MREs! Why don’t the Army put a package of Metamucil in each one?”

“Probably because it’s the only way to shut up one of your two mouths.” Tharinger looked at Reader’s reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, she’s totally hot for Hastings. I really thought I was going to see her head start bobbing up and down on his lap.”

“Fuck, officers always get the hot chicks,” Reader said. He didn’t sound too broken up about it. He spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink then washed off his toothbrush.

“That’s the way of the world,” Hartman said with a sigh.

“Aw, are you heartbroken?” Tharinger asked. “Does the fact that you won’t be giving her your personalized pearl necklace leave you feeling a bit depressed, junior?”

“Junior?” Hartman patted his crotch. “Mister Peter North’s twin here thinks otherwise.”

“Well, maybe you can use that to open up Stilley a bit. He apparently needs the help,” Tharinger said. He looked up as Guerra walked in. “Oh, shit!”

“What’s going on in here?” Guerra asked. His face was a bit puffy, and he looked crosser than normal. Stilley let another one rip, and Guerra recoiled as if in horror. “Holy Jesus, Stilley! You kiss your mother with that ass?”

Stilley’s only response was a straining groan.

Guerra laughed as he set out his toothbrush. “So what was that I heard when I was walking in? Somebody feeling some heartache?”

Reader reached for his mouthwash while Tharinger went back to shaving, but Hartman looked a little uncomfortable.

Guerra elbowed him roughly. “What is it, Hartman?”

“He’s gettin’ all weepy-eyed because the girl likes the captain,” Stilley said from his stall.

Guerra chortled. “Oh, yeah? Let me clue you in on something, boys. Asian girls
always
go for white men.”

Hartman, Reader, and Tharinger looked at one another.

“Sergeant G, you might not have noticed, but we’re all white,” Reader said.

Guerra nodded sagely. “Yes. You’re all white. White
boys
. Operative word in today’s life lesson is
men
, as in Asian girls always go for white
men
. Damn, do I have to add this to some hip-pocket training? Are you guys really this dumb? Don’t answer that.” Guerra made a great show out of applying toothpaste to his brush. “Okay. Someone give me a pulse. What happened?”

“Diana looked like she wanted to give the captain a little sexy tonsil action,” Tharinger said.

“And what did the captain do?” Guerra started brushing.

“He didn’t let it …” Tharinger paused for dramatic effect. “Go down.”

Everyone chuckled, even Stilley, who farted with each laugh. Then there was a loud splash.

Guerra whirled to face the stall door. “Jesus, who the hell is in there? Slim Pickens from
1941
? You still got your boots on, Stilley?”

“No, I’m using yours, Sergeant G,” Stilley said.

“I’m going to leave one in your ass if you don’t hurry up,” Guerra said, brushing his teeth like a madman. “As for the rest of you, I recommend you stop gossiping about what may or may not have happened, because Ballantine’s not going to like that shit. Hell,
I
don’t like that shit. And doubly worse, the
captain
certainly ain’t gonna like it, and I’m thinking you don’t want to piss off the guy who has your miserable lives in his hands.” He spat a wad of toothpaste into the sink and turned on the water. “But if they do start going at it, let me know. Discreetly.”

While they laughed, Guerra stepped over to a urinal, took a long piss, then returned to the sink to wash his hands. He checked his chin for any stubble he might have missed the night before then gave Reader, Tharinger, and Hartman the stink eye. “Shake a leg, you losers. We’re meeting in five. You too, Stilley. Try not to lose any more IQ points in there.”

*