“Anderson, Winslow, you two stand fast,” Masterson said, stopping them. “The rest of you, back in the barracks and get cleaned up for chow.”
Jacob stepped back and put his M14 on his shoulder; he looked to Jesse, who shrugged his shoulders. Masterson went on his way, leaving Jacob and Jesse alone by the back of the truck.
“You think we did something wrong?” Jesse whispered. “What does he want with us now?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we are about to find out.”
Masterson called the waiting formed-up recruits to attention then turned them over to another drill sergeant, who led the group of men off to the evening meal. The old soldier turned and looked back at Jacob with a shake of his head before slowly striding toward them.
“What’s going on, Drill Sergeant?” Jesse asked.
Masterson forced a grin. “You can drop the Drill Sergeant shit. Your time here is done; your training will continue elsewhere.”
Jacob stood, confused, as fear welled in his belly, thinking he’d failed. “I don’t understand… what did we do wrong?”
“Nahh, it ain’t that,” Masterson said, reaching into a shirt pocket and stuffing a wad of tobacco into his lip. “You’re moving on… both of you. I’d be lying if I say I didn’t envy you. A soldier shouldn’t be back here in the rear at a time like this.”
“Moving?” Jesse asked.
“The Darkness is infiltrating north faster than anyone had anticipated. They hit us this morning—just a small group, but they managed to do a lot of damage. That little piece you saw was just a fraction of what came at us. We are starting to learn how they work. If they’re here, and they know where we are, they’ll come back. If they manage to get established someplace close, they will multiply.
“That unit we supported earlier has an outfit preparing to move out. They lost a couple of men recently and turns out you’re going to replace them.”
Masterson looked Jacob in the eye. “You must have friends in high places, because they asked for you by name. I would have turned them down, but he had paperwork authorizing it.”
“Hell yeah,” Jesse said, putting a fist up to Jacob.
Jacob ignored the gesture and looked to Masterson. “Who? Where are we going?”
Masterson laughed. “I don’t know, guys. But listen, I watched you both today; you’ll do fine, but you aren’t ready yet. You need to listen to your sergeants; maybe you’ll stay alive long enough to learn something. Now go toss your weapons in the back of that supply truck. You won’t be needing them anymore. Two-Six will outfit you with all the new gear and rifles you’ll need downrange. Go grab your shit out of the barracks; your pickup will be here in ten mikes and you need to be ready to go when it arrives.”
“Can I see my family before we leave?” Jacob asked.
Masterson looked at Jacob, letting his jaw soften. “I’m sorry, but there’s no time. You just take care of yourself, okay? I’ll look in on your family and let them know you’ve moved out. Ten mikes; don’t miss your ride. Good luck, gentleman.” Masterson turned to walk away, leaving them alone and confused.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jacob was cold and wet; he couldn’t remember a time ever feeling such pain and discomfort from the weather. His jaw ached from shivering, his body cramped, and his legs numbed where they pressed against the cold steel of the Ford pickup truck. It’d been raining for hours and he was soaked to the bone, the green wool blanket doing little to comfort him.
The vehicle had pulled into the barracks lot just after sunset. Jacob and Jesse rushed into the back of the old pickup truck just as the rain began. They’d been driving for over an hour down broken gravel back roads, avoiding the main highways, entering dark forests and hilly terrain. He tried to follow the street signs and look into the small guarded villages where soldiers patrolled the streets and all windows and doors were tightly secured. Jacob quickly lost track of where they were as the weather gradually turned worse and he resorted to lying low against the cab to hide from the rain.
Jacob removed the blanket from his face; Jesse was sleeping across from him, barely visible in the dark night. He was wrapped in a blanket of his own with his body sprawled out in the bed of the truck, bouncing and swaying with every bump. As the wind blew more pelting rain into his eyes, Jacob pulled the blanket tight, shielding his face.
The truck came to a halt on a dark, muddy road. The driver’s door swung out, squeaking against rusted metal. A tired, bearded man wearing a faded lime-green camouflage parka and a floppy hat with water running off the brim stepped into the cold rain. He had the hard look of a warrior. The man could easily fit in as a barbarian with a large axe and horned helmet. He pointed up the hill to a small log cabin with a barn behind it. There was a thin sliver of light in a front window between the heavy drapes.
“That’s home for tonight, boys. Get your stuff so we can get inside before we all drown,” he said before reaching back into the truck’s cab and grabbing his own bag. He stepped away and slammed the door, waking Jesse. Jesse rolled to the side and looked up at Jacob, confused.
“Let’s go,” the man shouted, losing patience. He took another step toward the building then paused to allow Jacob and Jesse to gather behind him.
The man led them up a muddy path toward the cabin’s porch while lightning flashed behind them, showing the way in strobes of light. The bearded man moved
