G Hopf: The Long Road

“Where the fuck were you?” Gordon asked, clearly angered.

“I went to my family and made sure they were okay,” Holloway answered directly, not intimidated by Gordon’s gruffness.

“Jump in, we need to make sure these fuckers are dead,” Gordon said.

Holloway jumped in, and both men proceeded cautiously. When they came upon the first position, Holloway jumped out and ran over to discover two dead men; both had been ripped apart by the machine gun. He continued on by foot and discovered a similar scene at the second, but at the third one a man was alive.

“We’ve got a live one here!” Holloway yelled.

Gordon drove the Jeep over to Holloway’s position and got out. He stepped over to the wounded man, pulled his handgun out, and put it to the wounded man’s head.

“Are there any more of you?”

The man didn’t respond but coughed up blood.

“Answer me, you piece of shit!” Gordon screamed, pressing the barrel against the man’s sweaty forehead.

Gordon began to slowly squeeze the trigger but stopped when screaming rang out from behind him. He stood and looked; the screams gave way to gunfire. He could tell people were moving, but the dark smoke was making it impossible to see what was really happening. He took a step, then remembered the wounded man. He turned, took aim, and shot the man.

“I’m scared. Where’s Mommy? Where’s Daddy?” Haley cried.

Not answering his little sister, Hunter could see a few men marching toward them and the convoy from the eastern desert.

Haley began to cry loudly.

“Ssshh! Haley, be quiet!” Hunter commanded.

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m scared!” Haley whimpered, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Mommy and Daddy will come soon, I promise.”

“What if they’re dead, what if Mommy and Daddy are dead?”

“Haley, you have to be quiet.”

More gunfire rang out from the men approaching. Haley screamed.

Hunter reached over and put his hand on top of her mouth. She attempted to pull away, but he forced his hand with pressure equal to her resistance. “Stop, just stop!” Hunter demanded.

Looking into her brother’s eyes, she calmed down, but tears were still flowing and she was having a hard time controlling her breathing.

He could no longer see the men in the distance, but he could hear gunfire coming from them and from the convoy. He wanted to know where the men were, so he pulled away from Haley and started to crawl toward the entrance of the culvert.

“No, stop, where are you going?” Haley cried out.

“I’m checking to see where those guys went.”

“Stop, don’t leave me.”

“I’m just going to poke my head out.”

Haley began to cry loudly, making Hunter stop and go back to her. He held her close and told her things would be okay. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a silver compass and gave it to her.

“Here, take this. Dad gave it to me. He said it would keep me safe, and if I give it to you, it will keep you safe.”

Taking the compass in her trembling hands, she looked up at her brother.

He smiled and said, “I’ll be right back.” Hunter crawled away to the opening of the culvert and peered out. He looked left and then right. Seeing one of the men not two feet away, he attempted to duck back inside, but the man grabbed him and pulled him out. Hunter kicked, but he wasn’t a match for the man, who punched him once in the face, knocking him out.

Haley began to scream, knowing that something bad had happened to her brother.

The man peered into the culvert and said, “Come here, little girl.”

USS Makin Island off the coast of Southern California

Sebastian’s patience was at its breaking point. As each day passed without notice of his departure from the cold gray walls of his cell, he grew more agitated and restless. Knowing that his brother’s house was only twenty miles away made the wait worse. After having traveled thousands of miles and enduring hardships, not to be able to just leave was unbearable. Since Gunny had taken him topside three days before, he hadn’t seen the light of day. His treatment was fair, but this now was feeling like torture. One advantage the wait gave him was the ability to establish a plan. Gunny had allowed him to have a map, paper, and a pencil. He mapped several routes and identified waypoints. Knowing that traveling the highways could be bad, he plotted surface streets and natural trails to lead him to Carmel Valley.

It had been six weeks since the attacks, and the last intelligence he had on San Diego was days old. In a nutshell, the city had collapsed into chaos. The Villista Army was now occupying large parts of the city. Some Marine squads who had gone ashore to gather family had encountered them. Barone had no intention of securing San Diego but at the same time was not about to allow an organized mob to harass his Marines. He attacked many of the Villista strongholds and encampments, destroying resources and killing many of their people. Sebastian supported this approach and appreciated anything Barone did that would increase his chances for survival.

The welcome sound of keys unlocking his door echoed off the walls of cell.

Sebastian stopped what he was doing and stared at the door; he knew it was too early for chow, so someone was coming to pay a visit.

The large metal door opened, and Gunny stepped inside.

Sebastian stood up, excited to see Gunny because his appearance might portend his release.

“Van Zandt, how ya holdin’ up?”

“Good, Gunny.”

“I have some good news and some bad news. What ya want first?” Gunny said, standing tall with his arms crossed.

Sebastian’s eyes widened with anticipation. He was nervous about what the bad news was, but he wanted to save the good news for last.

“Bad news.”

“Well, Corporal, San Diego is a total clusterfuck. It’s worse than Fallujah back in ’04.”

“I kinda figured it would be bad,” Sebastian answered.

“Not sure if this is good news based upon the bad news, but we’re leaving early and so are you. The colonel wants all the prisoners dropped off by sixteen hundred hours. So, you finally get what you want, Corporal. Your precious California awaits. Now grab your shit, you’re coming with me.”

“Ah, now!” Sebastian exclaimed, not quite prepared. Just moments before he’d been grumbling to himself about the wait; now the reality of navigating in the chaos of what was San Diego took him off guard.

“Yes, Corporal. Get your trash, a bird is waiting for you and the other scumbags,” Gunny barked.

Nervously grabbing what few items he had been allowed, Sebastian followed Gunny out of the cell and down the narrow passageways toward the flight deck.

“Are you giving me everything you mentioned before?” Sebastian asked.

“Don’t worry, Corporal, we’re not cruel. We will give you enough to get by.”

“Thank you.”

Stepping out on the flight deck, Sebastian thought that he’d never see this ship or Gunny again. He had a flash of nostalgia. He really wished that things had gone differently, but the path Barone was on was not one he could follow. Gunny escorted him to the ramp and patted him on the back.

“This is it, Van Zandt. I brought you up first; there’s another handful of Marines joining you on this one-way trip. I wanted you to get first dibs on the gear on board,” Gunny said, pointing inside the helicopter.

“Thank you, Gunny,” Sebastian said, putting out his hand.

Gunny looked at his hand, hesitated, then grabbed it firmly, “God damn you, Van Zandt, I really wanted you to come with us; but no, you had to go renegade. Listen, I couldn’t let you go without some goodies and a surprise. Grab the pack with the black strap tied on the top.”