Corpses in Wonderland

“We were smart; there weren’t many flashy heroics. We had learned that heroics was the way to get killed without getting the job done, and getting the job done was more important.”- Stephen Ambrose

Captain Jeremiah “Glycerin” Forrest and his Bravo Company finally pulled into the parking lot with a petulant Malcolm pacing the outermost perimeter. He checked the time, which was six thirty-three, the two companies together made double the original number of Humvees and an extra third of transport trucks. Bringing the numbers to eight and eleven. But Bravo Company had two hundred grunts to count, bringing the numbers to three hundred and seventy-five. Malcolm’s fire team patrols flanked him in the number range of thirty. As ordered, the Humvees and trucks formed a circle barrier across the inner parking lot and the fire teams mounted the beds and the minigun emplacements. There Malcolm stood, cross eyed as the larger, more appropriately nicknamed company began to unload themselves.

The Bravo ‘Swashbucklers’. Go fuck yourselves…What is this a football team?

He saw Captain Forrest step out of the Humvee passenger seat with two of his lieutenants in the back and one on the driver’s wheel. He stopped to pass his orders along to each of them as the two hundred grunts stepped out of their vehicles.

“You took your sweet time getting here!” Malcolm stated.

“Well. Our orders got changed on us.” Forrest answered. “We had to wait for a convoy; traffic was a bitch. You understand right?”

“Have you been in contact with McElroy or Casey at all?” Malcolm asked.

“I only spoke to my Major.”

“Welp…your far behind, get your boys to follow us.” Malcolm ordered.

“My boys are unpacking. It looks like your men have already unloaded.”

“Arrange your vehicles the way I did.” Malcolm stated.

“And why is that?”

“Because ‘they’re’ coming.”

Forrest squinted. “Who?”

“The North Koreans. Come with me and bring your boys.” Malcolm did a conductor’s waved at them and turned around. Forrest turned around and whistled for his first and second sections, who marched out of the crowd from two directions in a single file like Emperor Penguins. One of Malcolm’s trucks was pulling out of the inner parking lot, and they were forced to adjust themselves so as not to be in its way. It still needed to weave around the Swashbucklers and their vehicles.

“Why’s this guy taking off?” Forrest asked.

Malcolm responded. “It’s just a medic. He’s going back to Casey with an injured army cop.”

“Hmmm. I assume this has something to do with what’s got you agitated.”

Malcolm cut him a look, “It’s the half of it. I got forty-five civilians that I can’t move out of here and the M.O.s have been useless.”

“Why? What did they do?”

“They killed an insane refugee.” Malcolm told him. “He tried to shut the lights off and went completely bonkers. He tore into one of them and that cop is the one going back to Casey’s General Hospital. We had two more bodies further down the tunnel and getting them out without freaking the civilians was a bitch.”

“Where are they now?” Forrest asked.

“The bodies? Going back to Casey for autopsies.”

“I meant the Military Officers.” Forrest corrected.

“Oh them!” Malcolm’s tone turned awkward. “Well…that’s the other thing…”

The deadpan dragged on long enough for the pair to enter the visitor’s center, where at least a hundred grunts were spread out either lying down on their duffle bags or sitting in circles having their private conversations. The space around the mouth of the tunnel had been heavily fortified with sandbags and Malcolm assigned Lieutenant Beauregard’s platoon C to guard the mouth. Two machine gun nests had been established at the end of the railway line.

Malcolm finished his thought. “…I sent them to the other side of the tunnel to report back and I haven’t heard from them.”

Forrest thought for a moment. “Do you think the worst?”

“Yes...The Lunatic said, ‘They are coming’. And keep in mind that this happened hours before even I showed up…. The dipshits bludgeoned the guy to death and didn’t tell anybody what he said. Now, ‘they’ are probably gonna make a move on us. I set up barbed wire past the civies, just in case.”

“Did you send anyone to look for the cops?” Forrest asked.

“I’m not sending more people to disappear while looking for missing people, that’s retarded.” Malcolm retorted. “At least not until my backup got here, which is you. So, if you want to take your boys to secure the other end of the tunnel, I’ll have the wire taken down.”

Forrest halted. “You’ve been sitting here since you arrived! Securing the tunnel is literally the entire objective!”

Malcolm winced. “Our objective, and I’ve done half of it! You expect me to spread my guys thin with a counterattack on the way?”

Forrest’s jaw dropped. “You don’t know that! You’re considering the story of one North Korean that I haven’t met! You’ve got forty-five civies in there! What are they saying?”

“Barely anything!” Malcolm answered. “All they know is that they were told, by the propaganda ministry, to evacuate their homes and flee here. We’re dealing with the handful that chose this specific tunnel. I’m worried about our boys in Panmunjom. We’ve got a refugee camp set up and our brigades are sitting ducks for whatever’s coming! Now, I haven’t been able to raise Casey or even Humphrey for the last fifteen minutes! I was on the phone with Mendez before that. He said, ‘I want those bodies.’ So, there they go. Since then I’ve been waiting on your ass.”

“Well, we got here as soon as we could. Let me try.” Forrest huffed while checking his earpiece. “We might get an update now that I’m here.”

“Be my guest…”

“Command,” Forrest spoke, “This is Bravo. We’ve rendezvoused with November at the infiltration tunnel. Please advise. Over.” The frequency was deadpan. “Command, this is Glycerin. We need an updated objective. Over.”

“I told you.” Malcolm gloated.

Forrest dismissed Malcolm’s smugness. “It’s the biggest operation since Iraqi Freedom. They seem to have their hands tied. Whatever the problem is, I doubt an attack will happen here. We’ve known about this tunnel for decades, it’s not a viable strategy anymore.”

“We only know of four.” Malcolm stated.

Forrest winced. “What’s your point?”

Malcolm laid his fear out. “An attack at the other three, plus Panmunjom, could be a distraction for a multi-pronged attack throughout the countryside.”

Forrest seemed dismayed. “Our satellites would have seen that. You’re talking about a new Tet Offensive...”

“And whoever’s in control of their artillery could level Seoul!” Malcolm was stark. “I’m not saying they’ll pull our pants down but if I’m right this could be a bloodier conflict than Vietnam.”

“It would have to be infantry based.”

Malcolm cocked his head. “And who knows what they brought with them?”

“Do you expect it to be Un’s forces?” Forrest now seemed worried.

“They have been shelling their own cities. Whatever is going on, he doesn’t want to open the front with us.”

“And what makes you think he’s sane?” Forrest asked.

“Because that’s what I would do. And if I were the rebels, I wouldn’t want to start shit with us until I knew we had the advantage. That means seizing the artillery and the airfields. Before you were sent, did you get any updates on what’s happening up there?”

“No.”

“All I’ve been told is that we’re not letting the refugees through until we can screen everyone…because of that flu...”

As Malcolm trailed off, Forrest winced. “What are you thinking?”

“…Nothing. I’m looking into it too much….” They shouldn’t be connected… they have long range missiles. A biological attack would devastate them just as badly.

“So, tell me…” Forrest was staring into the tunnel. “What do you think they’re doing in there?”

“My boys are keeping watch at the barb wire. I ordered the blankets and mats to be given to the refugees so some of us will be sleeping on our backpacks tonight-“

“I’m talking about the Military officers.”

“Oh them!” Malcolm was surprised. “At first I figured their sergeant was ignoring me out of spite but now I’m not so sure.”

“How did you figure that?”

“I had to tear him a new asshole over killing the suspect instead of…you know, restraining him and because he waited to tell us what had happened.”

Forrest paused. “You said the suspect ‘tore into’ one of them.”

“He bit a chunk out of the guy to be specific.”

“And you think a nutjob like that had something worth saying?”

“He decided he’d rather put up with us than whatever was happening out there. I want to know why and who’s coming. Hence the cops being sent down.”

Forrest began to gleam frustration. “So, you reamed him over a situation that’s out of his hands and then you sent him down the tunnel unarmed…”

“He has twelve other guys with him, and they have their batons.” Malcolm squinted. “…You think what I did was wrong?”

Forrest blinked. “You’re expecting a forward attack.”

Malcolm blinked. “And I wanted an early warning.”

“What were they supposed to do?”

“Warn us and get back here, if they don’t whoop the enemy’s ass.” Malcolm was a matter of fact. “Instead, they vanished.”

Forrest guffawed. “You couldn’t have sent a fire team with them?”

“Pawns go first.” Malcolm answered. “Haven’t you played chess? Or any Strategy game for that matter?”

Forrest stammered with anger. “Jesus fucking Christ, Nelson…”

Malcolm was confused. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“This isn’t a game of Chess!” Forrest yelled.

Malcolm was offended. “You think I’m risking my boys for their fuckup?”

Forrest’s eyes bulged. “I have to risk my boys to save their assess and set up at the other end!”

“That was your job to begin with.”

Forrest’s face flushed. “NO! You were supposed to have this shit done!”

“It’s called splitting the labor.” Malcolm shrugged. “You’re welcome!”

A red-faced Forrest was in Malcolm’s face. “So help me God Nelson, if anything happened to those men, it’s your ass. You hear me? This is going to be in my report. If my men suffer, I’ll have you discharged.” He faced the tunnel and began to move. “PLATOONS A AND B ON ME! TAFFREY, YOU ARE TOO!”

Every eye in the room was on the scene as Bravo Company rushed to Captain Forrest’s flank and they marched single file into the cavern. Forrest swung his AR-Fifteen off his back and switched the safety off.

It wasn’t long before they were upon the first hovel, where a basic camp had been set up for the many refugees that both companies had to accommodate. November’s medical detachment was busy providing MREs for everyone and a total of forty additional soldiers from Edward’s Platoon D and Johnson’s Platoon B guarded the perimeter, some even entertained the children.

“None of these people have the Flu, right? We don’t need masks?” Forrest sought assurance as he kept his head forward.

“They do have a couple of fevers. Nothing major though; we should be safe.” Malcolm answered.

“Well, they’re saying it’s a nasty one.” Forrest covered his face with his uniform. “Hospitals started separating them into their own wards.”

“We only have four cases right now. They’re in the tent.” Malcolm pointed to the back of the hovel.

“Good.”

“I just wish we had the means to test their blood.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Forrest grunted. “The geeks at the hospitals are already on it.”

Malcolm pondered. “Still. I want to know why it’s mutated so early this time of year.”

“I don't know. Climate change?” Forrest pondered, despite the tension. “Last vaccine wasn’t as effective so we might just be dealing with a resurgence of the last case.”

“...Maybe…”

“You’re not so sure?” Forrest asked as they entered the next portion of the tunnel.

“It’s just the timing. That’s all.”

Forrest squinted. “You don’t think it’s a bioweapon, do you?”

Malcolm huffed. “It’d be a shit bioweapon to use the Flu.”

“These people are entering a whole new world.” Said Forrest. “They’re getting exposed to new germs they aren’t used to, and God knows what shit medicine they’ve been receiving.”

“If that’s true then I’m right…” Malcolm said.

“About what?”

“About people getting past the border.” Malcolm was confident. “If they’re catching last year’s flu outbreak just now, then the cases we’ve been seeing are spreading from people who fled the North. Why so many people are catching it is the question.”

Forrest halted and acknowledged Malcolm finally; he understood Malcolm’s concern. He eyed the ground and pressed on. They were finally at two machine gunner specialists who guarded the barbed wire fencing Malcolm had ordered. Master Sergeant Chavez stood idle, sharing a laugh with them.

“Take the fence down.” Malcolm ordered.

“Yes sir, Captain.” Javier saluted.

The specialist on the left obeyed and undid the post. Like a curtain he pulled the fencing open. Forrest stopped just short of proceeding. “Until I give the all-clear at the other end, my men left behind are your men. I’ll radio back when we’re across.” He firmly ordered. “Send the rest after.”

‘Good luck.” Malcolm said, trying to sound sincere.

Forrest stepped past the specialists and was marching with half his company.

“Make sure you seal up once they’ve past.” Malcolm told Javier who responded with a salute and a “Yes sir.”

Malcolm turned around and stepped to the side, wiggling his way around the two platoons of Bravo Company. Every face remained stern and focused on the objective in front of them; the typical faces of working-class grunts. Malcolm acknowledged each face that passed him until he was back in the hovel. He stepped to the side and decided to check on the tent in the back. He walked around the many sleeping bags, careful not to touch any of the civilians. He looked at his masked medics and wondered how many of his company had been vaccinated.

He stepped through the flaps of the tent and saw the four sleeping bags and the pale civilians who occupied the mats. Two elderly women, a teenage boy, and a man. Sergeant ‘Finger Blade’ Avery had finished handing out the ration of MREs and everyone was chowing.

“Sir?” Avery saluted.

“At ease.” Malcolm ordered. “How are these people doing?”

“Well, they have their appetite which is good. They’re all running fevers but…well if you want to feel them be my guest.”

“Why?” Malcolm stepped over to one of the elderly people and felt her forehead without asking. She jolted, but relaxed and continued eating.

“They’re cold as ice.” Avery uttered. “I’ve never seen a flu do that.”

Sweat ran down her forehead indicating an active immune system, trying to expunge whatever was inside of her, but she felt like her meal if it had been sitting in the open for three hours. Malcolm took his left hand off and smoothed the palm with his fingers. It was moist. He immediately took the glove off. Pinching it with his fingers, he discarded the glove in a nearby trash can.

“Let’s get them out of here.” Malcolm ordered. “I want them gone.”

“Sir?”

“We keep them penned in here they’ll infect more people.” Malcolm stated.

“Where are we sending them?” Avery asked.

“Casey.” Malcolm answered. “They’re saying it’s nasty and we can’t take care of them if their symptoms worsen. Not to mention the fact that the Flu is airborne and we’re in a closed space. Do as I say and give them masks.”

“Yes sir!” the medic saluted.

Malcolm stepped out of the tent without a look at the other patients.

As soon as the medic gets back, I can turn him right around again. He won’t be amused, and neither will Mendez.

He walked over to a makeshift table at the other end of the Hovel where the Medics we’re providing the MREs. He sighed and finally received his MRE from a hapless private, a beef curry, and the private handed him a cranberry-flavored water mix. Malcolm gave a reassuring nod instead of a word of thanks.

Organize Forrest’s boys, swing by the office, eat and enjoy music. Should kill a few minutes before the private gets back.

Bravo Company had already passed but there was an unfamiliar man who stood against the wall beside tunnel. He seemed as if he’d been watching Malcolm ever since he entered the medical tent. There was a smirk to his cheeks that translated to a silent “Hi there.” His eyes were brown and swollen as Malcolm’s could get, which made him uneasy. Malcolm said nothing as he walked forward and simply pretended the trooper was not staring at him.

“It’s a pretty demoralizing scene, you know?” He spoke faster than a gypsy and his Cajun accent was even thicker than Malcolm’s.

“Excuse me?” Malcolm asked.

When he made eye contact, Malcolm realized that this grown man looked like a pubescent. He had pathetic baby patches of facial hair to call a beard, and his skin was rather smooth to be a veteran. “Come on! ‘Splitting the labor?’ That’s a ‘Fuck You’ if ever I’ve heard one.”

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?” Malcolm asked, ignoring the nametag.

“First Lieutenant Liam Campbell! No moniker.” He held his hand out for a shake, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Malcolm.”

Malcolm grabbed his hand and pulled the man in instead of shaking, “Captain Nelson.”

“Okay sir!” The man boasted. “I hear them always calling you the ‘Space Dog’, is that okay?”

Malcolm squinted his right eye as they shared contact; Liam smiled all the way. “How old are you, kid?”

Liam didn’t blink. “Thirty-seven.”

“Bullshit!”

“No sir, I signed up late; following another’s footsteps.”

Malcolm’s jaw dropped. “What do you have Kallmann’s Syndrome?”

Liam laughed. “You think they’d have let me in?”

Malcolm cocked his head. “Ten years ago? No. But considering who’s in charge now, why the fuck not? All things considered; we might as well start letting grunts whose balls haven’t dropped become cannon fodder. Next, we’ll start letting in deaf people. I mean sure they’re guaranteed to die but that was just the way of nature before Humans invented buildings and shit. The least they could do is give back for the labor and resources that go into letting them cheat death as long as we do. And they should do it in a way that minimizes the risk of them filling civilization with people who will die over fucking peanut. So, tell me, have your balls dropped?”

An interpersonal deadpan was exchanged, and Liam broke down chortling. “Tell me how that was your college paper.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Hey, it’s what that English Professor gets for saying to ‘Go where the pain is.”

“Can’t hurt worse than the state of pop music, eh?” Liam smirked.

Malcolm squinted. “If it weren’t for the twang, I’d ask if you were Canadian. And I’ll take your laughter to be a ‘Yes’. Walk and talk.” Malcolm brushed past, holding up his food.

“So, Mr. Furher…”

Malcolm halted and faced the stubby-chinned lieutenant. “Did you speak like this to the Drill Sergeant two barracks down from you?”

His eyebrows flashed. “Captain, let’s not blow this close encounter out of proportion-“

Malcolm shook his head and continued walking. “Since you’re not Taffrey, I assume you’re Bravo’s senior officer without the captain?”

“I am…your senior.” Liam was moonwalking to Malcolm’s left. “I can keep the boys amused which will keep them sharp which will keep them combat ready.”

“Whatever. So, you’ve got two platoon’s left? I want them split into four sections. Keep one in the outer parking lot while two of them sweeps the outer perimeter, send the last inside.”

“Aye.” Liam saluted, “You still think we can get attacked from the city?

“If there’s an attack waiting outside the city, I expect them to make a move on Casey, I just want to keep my bases covered.”

“Why would they risk a suicide mission like that?” Liam asked.

“I don’t expect them to charge our position head-on, but it would be an effective distraction. And it’s what I would do.”

“You honestly think that the rebels are as organized as us?”

“Of course not!” Malcolm boasted. “But they are more determined than us and if I’m right, they have a better lay of the land than we do right now. If I oversaw us, we’d be waiting until we knew for sure what was happening up north before I even set up the forward base in Panmunjom. I tried explaining this to my Major but it’s not like he has any real pull. We’ll keep to our mission and hope the gambit will be the enemy’s.”

“Can I just say that’s it’s my friends who are playing the deck right now?”

Malcolm boasted. “The deck is the president’s and you’re not even a joker.”

“So, what does that make you; Mr. Dent?” Liam asked. “I don’t want to know. Better question is: what does that make the M.O.s you marched into oblivion?”

Malcolm didn’t care. “I meant what I said, they aren’t my boys.”

Liam was smug. “Is that why you’ve got my boys on the outskirts? Prime pedals for plucking if we get surrounded? I can’t exactly hang around and let you do that.”

Malcolm guffawed. “Let?! You can’t let me?”

“Just saying that we’re technically your boys until Forrest calls us over.” Liam assured him. “I’d kind of appreciate you acting like we were and maybe let us prep our shit for the crossing.”

“That is not what you were saying and I’m telling you that we need a tight perimeter. You want to be my boy? Earn your keep; maybe I’ll give you a drunken confession.”

Liam was silent before raising his brows. “Oh, I’m kinder than a preacher when it comes to that shit! How about both companies help each other so I can get the rest ready and phase our crossover? You know, ‘split the labor’ and all.”

“Okay.” Malcolm raised a finger. “Let’s get one thing clear, you will not be using anything I say against me.”

Liam’s cockiness seemed to grow. “And how about what you’ve done?”

They both came to a halt at the tunnel’s entrance. “And what is it you think you know?”

“I know that Forrest will back me if I usurp your command.” Liam flashed his brows. “You’re already in deep shit if something happened to the M.O.s, Forrest said so himself. Do I have to relieve you of your post for the safety of my men too?” Liam crossed his arms.

Malcolm wanted to rip his grin off. “You’re just another lieutenant…” he whispered, “But if you trade me your medical detachment so my guys can screen themselves quicker, I’ll let you keep the remaining platoons on standby.”

“Oh, how generous!” Liam faked flattery, “Give us a chance to let the Flu hop over to our ranks!”

“Think of it as a chance to learn how contagious this year’s strain is.” Malcolm hid his grin.

“Fine. On the condition that the people only get their orders through me.” Liam affirmed.

Malcolm considered it. “Hmph. Forrest doesn’t want to speak to me anyway. Which is usually reason enough for me to talk his ear off, but I figure that with him on edge and the gooks gone he’d prefer listening to you.”

Liam cocked his head. “Everyone prefers me.”

“That’s at least one lie you’ve told me.” Malcolm pointed at him again. “Now get out of my sight and if you let me see you so much as interacting with my company, I’ll have you written up for the way you spoke to me: your ranking officer.”

That will be the end of us both. Ta!” Like a cartoon, his legs spun around, and he took off. Malcolm watched Liam leave the ramp next to the railway and the lieutenant vanished out of his periphery of the sandbags. He shook his head and continued his normal pace. As he left the railway, his right was intersected by his X.O. Harvey Daniels.

“Captain,” he sneered, “Did you get in contact with anyone else?”

“No, I’m having Bravo use their medics to help us while the rest prepare to move their shit across. Make sure we’re accommodating. I’m gonna take ten for myself since I’ve had none all day, when Avery gets back send him to me.”

“Yes sir.” He saluted.

Malcolm dismissed Daniels and started again to the main office. He closed the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. He could finally have a moment of levity.

What would I give for that riverbed when I was in college? Or a simpler time of being a sergeant, where I didn’t have to think about my objectives. It was just: go here, point your gun and shoot, watch the bombs fall. You were never responsible for anyone…

He went over to the desk and circled around to sit down.