Weston Ochse: SEAL Team 666

The monster grabbed him by the neck and squeezed. Chi Long’s strength was staggering. Walker felt impossible pressure against his windpipe. It took all of his concentration to keep his hands on the necklace and not to try and pry the monster’s hands away. Blackness began to invade his vision. Then—

Snap!

The necklace came free.

Suddenly he was falling.

As he hit the ground, he saw the demon replaced by a man—Saw Thuza Tun. The Karen man had started to shout something when one last spike pierced the back of his head and came out of his mouth. As he fell forward, Yaya stood behind him, grim determination and fury plastered on his blood-smeared face. Saw Thuza Tun was now merely human, and the spike’s effect was permanent.

Walker stared at the necklace in his hands. Made of jade beads, it had five jade “fingers,” carved like those of a person. Was this it? Was this the focus? He had an insane desire to wear the necklace. He felt his hands coming toward his own neck. He had no control. He could be powerful. He could rule the earth. But Yaya ran forward and knocked it from his grip. The necklace flew free and as it did so, Walker lost the urge to wear it.

He turned, ready to defend himself against the hordes, only to find them now milling around in stunned confusion, once again themselves, trying to make their way through an imperfect world. Then he remembered.

“Holmes, we gotta go. Bombers are on their way.”

The SEAL team leader looked around. He spied Ruiz’s broken body and hauled it over his shoulder. “To the water,” he yelled.

They ran, climbing over bodies, pushing past the stunned Karen. They needed to make the beach and, with it, possible safety.

“Where’s the necklace?” Laws asked.

Before Walker could answer, a cry went up behind him. He turned to see a young man standing on top of a crate, holding the necklace high into the air.

“Oh, hell,” he said.

But he needn’t have worried.

The young man put on the necklace and for a single instant was Chi Long. But the power of the demon was too much for his frail human body. It burned to ash in an instant, the necklace falling to the wood of the crate. No sooner had it landed than it was taken up again. And again. And again. As each Karen wore it, he burst into flame and died.

Laws pulled Walker away. “Come on—hurry.”

Walker ran. His jerking fingers managed to switch on the radio.

“SEALs to the water,” Holmes screamed as the sound of jets rent the morning.

The Tornadoes flew in formation out of the west.

The SEALs hit the water and swam furiously.

Laws spied more than a dozen skiffs tied along the water’s edge and swam to one. He climbed in, shoved the fishing poles out, and got the outboard started on the second try. He revved the engine, then took off toward the SEALs in the water. He dropped the mooring rope off the left side so his teammates could grab on—first Yaya with Hoover in tow, then Walker, then Holmes, who was holding tightly on to Ruiz’s body. They made it perhaps a hundred meters away from shore before the land burned black of Kadwan erupted in a ball of effervescent destruction as one bomb after another ate away at those beings who would be demon until there was nothing left except the memory of a tattooed skin man who would be king.

Walker stood in front of his mirror, examining all his new scars. His actions during the final battle had scared him. The demon had demonstrated a power over him it hadn’t had over the others. Did that mean that there was some piece of the grave demon left within him? Was there a part of his soul that had been ruined and would remain forever stained because of it? If so, how much of a liability was he going to be to his team? Then again, if not for him, they never would have been able to stop Chi Long.

He found a T-shirt and pulled it on, then hurriedly tied his shoes. He went out into the main room, where Jen was waiting for him. When she saw him, she ran and threw her arms around him. He’d been back for two days and this was only the second time they’d been together. The first had been yesterday, when she’d made him meet her at the Homecoming statue. He’d arrived by taxi to see her standing in a summer dress, the wind picking up the hem of the orange and yellow material and the locks of red hair framing her face. He’d immediately felt a deep welling of pride and love as he strode toward her. She’d been right. Fighting for the living was much better than fighting for the dead.

“Hello, sailor,” she’d said. “Glad you made it home.”

She said the same thing now and kissed him on the cheek.

“Watch the PDA,” Laws said, laughing as he came into the room. Both of his arms had been professionally sutured. He’d been angry at first that he couldn’t get Purple Hearts for the wounds. He wanted to add to his collection, but was told that it didn’t count if another SEAL stabbed him. Unable to explain that it was because the SEAL had been under the power of a demon, he’d had to accept the judgment.

Yaya entered next, with Hoover beside him. The qilin that had dragged him into the jungle had been all but dead when it had tried to eat him. Yaya had managed to stab it in an eye with one of its own spikes. He’d ripped as many of them free as he could, then set out determined to save his fellow SEALs.

“Are we ready to go to McP’s?” Jen asked.

Laws nodded. “Holmes is already there setting things up.”

“Ruiz would rather we blow shit up than drink,” Walker said.

Laws smiled mischievously. “There might be some of that too.”

Yaya slid his mirrored sunglasses in place.

As they strode out the door, Walker couldn’t help commenting, “What worries me is that the spikes hurt Chi Long, but my bullets didn’t.”

“The spikes came from a supernatural creature. Maybe that’s why—maybe it could only be hurt by something supernatural,” Laws surmised. “But it’s Charlie Mike. Don’t dwell on something that’s over.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking. I mean, if my bullets didn’t hurt it, what makes us think that bombs did?”

They all turned and looked at each other.

“But the bombs cause fire,” Jen said. “Wouldn’t the fire kill him? I mean, nothing could have survived all those bombs, right?”

They all started walking again.

“God,” Walker said. “Let’s hope not.”

Suddenly they all stopped and turned. “Hoover!” Yaya shouted. “Get your ass in gear.”

The dog ran toward them, eager and happy as only a dog could be. She wasn’t bothered by her host of new scars, or the hundred sutures that banded her front legs. She was just happy to be home with her family, if only until the next mission.

As were they all.

WESTON OCHSE has won the Bram Stoker Award for First Novel and been nominated for a Pushcart Prize for short fiction. He is a retired U.S. Army intelligence officer and current intelligence officer for the Defense Intelligence Agency. Visit Weston online at www.westonochse.com.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.

SEAL TEAM 666. Copyright © 2012 by Weston Ochse. All rights reserved.

First Edition: November 2012