The Big Dead One by Shane Gries

Author:Shane Gries [Gries, Shane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cannon Publishing
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

27 September, 2016

1st Division Main Headquarters (D-MAIN)

Denver International Airport

1047 Hours Local

Major General Bud Napier sat at his desk poring over endless reams of paperwork wondering for the thousandth time when the Army would finally run out of it. Surely the paper mills were no longer churning out the stuff any longer, so where did it keep coming from? There also appeared to be an inexhaustible supply of printer ink too for some reason, which puzzled him even more. They’d managed to run out of just about everything at some point or other, but the piles of reports kept flowing unabated to him each and every day, accompanied by stacks of things that required his personal signature. Even after the end of the world, the bureaucracy never stopped.

The Secretary to the General Staff rapped his knuckles on the doorway to his commander’s private office, which was nothing more than a small tent booted off from the “Main,” allowing him the illusion of privacy. “General, you asked to see the Command Group?” It was a polite reminder and not really a question at all.

Bud checked his watch and sighed. He pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes before answering the major. “Yes, Tom. See them in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brigadier General Hank Mendoza poked his head into the room first. “Sir, is this a good time? Or should we come back later?”

“It’s fine.”

Mendoza entered the cramped space, trailed by the Deputy Commanding General for Sustainment, the Division Chief of Staff, the Division Operations Officer and the Command Sergeant Major. They’d grown comfortable meeting their commander like this and all of them pulled up folding chairs and sat down in their usual spots around his desk, with the Sergeant Major taking up the spot next to the commanding general.

Napier turned to his Ops Officer—the “G-3”—first, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. Which was very nearly the truth. “So, what’s the butcher’s bill, Dave?”

“Seventy-three, sir.” Lieutenant Colonel Dave Moore handed his commander a ringed binder that contained excerpts from the unit’s daily report, along with a summary of the incident which had played out the day prior.

“Jesus,” Napier said under his breath while looking over the documents. He had to put his reading glasses back on to see some of the finer details listed there. “How did we allow this to get so bad?”

“We’re having a tough time protecting the refugee camps, sir. Especially with all our commitments to securing the airport and keeping it running. Not to mention all the other operations we’ve got ongoing.” Moore didn’t mention the manpower drain they incurred sending units into Denver scrounging for medicines and other desperately needed items for their camp followers. Manpower came in a finite supply and the Division had become stretched thin.

Napier thumbed through the casualty reports and kept his expression neutral, though his guts were twisting in knots. “There’s a whole lot of kids listed here. Why is that?”

Moore looked around at the other senior leaders seated around the table, none of whom would make eye contact with him.

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