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Chapter 3

The First Shots

Their heavy winter combat boots clomp loudly on the linoleum as the walk through the breezeway towards the back of the school. Going down the last set of stairs you would've thought someone was hitting the steel with a large hammer, the sound sharp and echoing loudly in the brick hallway. Pushing open the ancient doors to the history wing, memories of goofing around between classes come flooding back to Matt. The once snow white walls have become cracked and gray, the black and orange lockers chipped and faded, ceiling tiles hang oddly from the aluminum frames they're set in. "What the fuck happened to this place?" says Matt, tapping on Seths helmet.

"They can't afford to fix anything anymore, they got no funding for that. They care about the heating, the electricity and the running water, hell, they don't even serve lunch every day." says Seth as they round the corner. Matt doesn't reply, he slaps the wall with his helmet as they pass by an empty classroom.

They step into Mr. Isslemans unnoticed and take seats in the far corner, the room is dark, and when they sit down with Dave he doesn't notice. He looks at Seth across the table and says "Hi", not noticing Matt next to him. Matt adjusts himself in the chair to keep his rifle from getting stuck, the loud noise makes Dave jump. "Rodgers, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Dave says, looking back down at his phone. "Wait...." Dave looks up, Seth points in Matts direction. "Rodgers! What the fuck is up? We thought you were dead!"

"I should be, but I ain't. Ignore the tail and cat-like face could ya? I'll explain later."

"Um, sure. So whats...what the fuck?" Dave looks at the rifle on Matts back, then at the other equipment he's carrying. "Where the hell did you, how the hell, how the fuck did you get into school like that? Did you say you were military or some shit?"

Seth answers for Matt, laughing, "You should've seen the look on the office ladys face, she shit her pants! He just said he was a student and he had no parents around anymore, told her he would be at my place from now on, and she let him in."

"Thats fucked up, for all she knows he's batshit crazy. Just gonna walk in like, 'fuck y'all' and start gunning people down. We're in the middle of a fucking war and she lets this dude just walk in." says Dave, gesturing towards me.

Matt speaks up, "She told me that basically if I was a fighter to keep my mouth shut about which side. So, I wanna see how many people file complaints about having me around by the end of the day. I expect I'll be asked to leave every time I walk into class."

"Well," said Dave "I would do the same thing if I saw a cat wearing combat gear walking into my classroom."

"I see what you mean"

Mr. Isselman, who has been focused on paperwork, had not hear the conversation at the table in the corner, nor had he seen Matt walk into the room. When he looks up he sees a large cat sitting in the corner of the room in full combat gear with a rifle on his back. He looks down at his paperwork, then back up at the furry figure in front of him. He looks at his coffee, then drops it into the can next to him and looks back down at his desk and continues to write.

"Are you ok ginger?" says Matt to Isselman, who replies with, "Yes, I, wait, who is this?"

He looks up and jumps, startled he pushes back hard and his office chair hits the wall with a loud smash. "No way in hell, no way, no freakin' way. What the hell was in that coffee?"

"Nothing more than coffee and sugar I would think. So, Issel-ginger, would you be surprised if I told you Rodgers is back?"

"Oh hell, no way. Well damn, it's good to see ya Matt." He offers a handshake, and Matt takes it. "So are you back here permenantly?"

"Yes sir I am. And did my new fur make you soil yourself?"

"I was wondering about that. We got twenty minutes or so, so pull up a chair." He looks back at Seth and Dave sitting in the corner, whispering to each other. "Hey, you guys hear this ones story yet?" Calls Isselman.

Seth nods in reply and motions for Dave to follow him to the teachers desk.They pull up chairs as Matt tells his story to Isselman, he tells of what little he knows about the transformation process. Then they ask him if they like his new self, he replies with a wide smile and a "yes sir I do".

The bell rings for the next period to start then the loudspeaker cuts it off.

Will all students please report to the auditorium for an announcement from Mr. Beltrante. I repeat, will all students please report to the auditorium for an announcement from Mr. Beltrante. Please be advised, use the side door leading from the music wing, pardon the interruption.

"Looks like thats where going next" says Seth, pushing open the door. The trio walks down the hallway catching looks from every student. Dave isn't dressed much differently than his friends. He has an urban camoflage uniform and heavy black boots with a light protective vest. He has no headgear but wears a black FOX beanie. This trio walking down the hall, one of them a very large cat with a rifle and the other a tall trenchcoat wearing fellow with a Freddy Krueger glove, all of them look like they should be out on the battlefield rather than walking the halls of the high school.

When they walk back into the lobby, they make a turn down into the art wing, leading to the music wing. They are talking amongst themselves and weaving in and out of the small crowd in the hallway when they forget where they are supposed to go an instead go for the main doors to the auditorium.

The few minutes they stop to stand and talk nearly costs them their lives. A rocket, probably from an RPG launcher, explodes close enough to the windows that shatters the glass and throws a mix of glass, dirt, shrapnel and pavement through the window frames. Seth and Matt, already affected with severe PTSD, drop to the floor the instant after the explosion, Dave is slower to react and almost got nailed in the temple with large piece of metal.

Matt immediatley switches gears and barks out "stay low or your fucked! Follow me!" He is unusually calm, crawling across the floor and down the 3 steps they came up with his comrades in tow. Everything around him seems to be blocked out, the screaming of the other students, the breaking of glass and pavement, the sound of gunfire down the street all reduced to nothing.

He takes a look back and sees his two friends still behind him, Seth relatively calm given the situation, the look Dave has is one of fear, one not often seen. "Stand up and follow me, I think I got an exit!" shouts Matt, a round coming from outside the school passing straight through the wall in front of him, narrowly missing his nose.

They all run as fast as they can across the lobby, jumping over debris and people huddled on the floor by the planter. Going down the hallway towards the library, they spot the exit they were looking for, the side doors. They stop at the door, trying to catch their breath. "So where are we gonna go from here? We can't just walk down the street." says Dave.

The gears in Matts head start turning. He quickly looks up, staring out the window, then pushes it open. "Follow me, keep up."

They run after Matt down the sidewalk toward the back of the school, a short distance. They quickly make their way around the back of the building, adrenaline being the only thing keeping them going. They get halfway around the corner and throw themselves back against the wall, theres four DAFAZ soldiers coming up the way, their field gray uniforms and shined black boots standing out against the white snow in the background. Seth and Matt ready their weapons, Dave pulls out a fixed blade Smith and Wesson knife from a sheath hidden in his jacket and crouches against the wall. Besides the gunfire out front, it's completely silent. When Matt flicks off his safety, the crunching of the snow around the corner stops.

"You hear that?" whispers one of the soldiers around the corner.

"Nein, nothing, where you think it came from?" whispers another.

Matt brings his rifle up to his shoulder and takes a small step back. He talks to Seth quickly about what weapons the soldiers are carrying, M16-A3 rifles and one had a shotgun. They decide if they took them by surprise, they would have a chance. "Get ready" whispers Matt to the other two. Him and Seth crouch in the deeper snow and aim their weapons at the corner while Dave slips into a bush right next to it, knife raised. The footsteps resume and they come around the corner in a staggered line, Matt fires the first shot, shattering the first soldiers' goggles and throwing him against the wall. As this happens, Dave grabs the one with the shotgun and drives the knife into the back of his neck while Seth shoots the other one squarely between the eyes. The last one drops his weapon and throws up his arms.

Dave pulls out the knife with a sickening pop and lets the body fall, he has a look of disbelief on his face, he had, just like the other two, just killed his first human being. "So what do we do with this wanker?" asks Seth, gesturing towards the unfortunate soldier standing before them.

"Oi" says Matt, walking up to the soldier, "you have a rank soldier? Name? Service number?"

The soldier pats his shoulder "I am Haupgefreiter Hoffman. A Lance Corporal."

"Alright then Hoffman, you are now a prisoner of war. You will be taken to the nearest National Guard unit for transport to the nearest camp. Any questions?" Matt asks.

"Nein, well, there is one thing I would like done. Would you be able to come back later and mark the bodies? I've known these men for quite some time, I would like them to be buried."

"I can do that myself sometime later. Seth, restrain him. Reach into my pack, theres some duct tape."

While Seth restrains their new prisoner, Dave and Matt take all their ammunition and their weapons. An M16 rifle for each of them, Seth carries the shotgun. Dave and Seth also take full packs off the dead soldiers along with their knives and grenades, they were going all out now, this was war.

Now heavily armed and ready, they make their way towards the front of the school, treading cautiously. They step out front and see some National Guard soldiers walking amongst the bodies of both friends and foes.

"Hey!" shouts Matt "Hey, we're friendlies! We captured one of them!"

The soldiers turn and raise their weapons, but lower them when Matt turns and pats the flag on his shoulder. The trio let their weapons hang by their slings, banging against their chests as they walk.

"Identify yourself!" shouts one of the soldiers, he appears to be an officer.

Not wanting to give his name, his gives another. "I'm called by Fuzzball, the tall one is Coleman, and the shorter one is Byers. This one right here," he pushes Hoffman to his knees, "is Haupgefreiter Hoffman, he is a Lance Corporal. We killed three of his number before he surrendered. We searched him, he's unarmed and has nothing of any importance on his person."

The soldiers look at the group, surprised. The officer tells another to retrieve Hoffman, who picks him up and leads him to a running Humvee. "So," says the officer, taking cautious steps towards the group, "I'm Second Lieutenant Hayes."

Seth and Matt, without thinking, immediately snap into a salute, Dave is a bit slower, his mind still on his first kill. Hayes, a bit surprised, returns the salute.

"So, are you militia?" the Lieutenant continues "I haven't seen many of those folks around lately, do you have a unit?"

"Yes sir, we do. The Goober Squad. It's a long story." replies Matt.

"What's your real name soldier? I believe Coleman and Byers, and while 'Fuzzball' fits, I prefer you tell me your name so I can use it in the report."

"The name's Rodgers, nice to meet you sir. I think you'll be seeing a lot of me around here."

"Alright then Rodgers, in a few minutes there's going to be a truck coming to remove the bodies, if you could assist that would be appreciated."

"Sure thing L.T., I would be glad. C'mon guys, lets drag 'em up front."

The trio take a jog through the snow back to the dead DAFAZ soldiers out back. They each take a body by their underarms and drag them towards the front of the school. They leave them in a stack with nine others. The National Guard took two dead, three wounded out of a total of twenty-four. The trucks pull up just as Seth puts the last body in the stack.

"Get moving, get moving!" They hear the Lieutenant shout. Rodgers goes up to him and says, "Excuse me sir, if you wouldn't mind, we would like to sort through the pile of equipment you have sitting by the bodies, unless you have plans for it of course."

"I don't mind at all, we have a dump out by what used to be the Ford dealership, you've probably seen that Fort Knox-type structure. Feel free to take anything. Its mostly five five six, I saw some Russian seven six twos, and there was a whole mess of other things. Whole kits tossed into the pile. Happy looting. If you need be I'll be at the old Ford dealership, look for the command tent inside the perimeter, you'll be able to see a big antenna from the other side of the barriers. Take it easy soldiers." The Lieutenant then walks off towards the trucks parked on the street, still calling out orders to the soldiers around him.

Then, hearing what the trio had just heard, they look at each other, than look at the pile, then back at each other with smiles on their faces. Soldiers still walking around them, collecting empty magazines for re-use and marking any live explosive were looking at the group curiously. All three walked away with three full bandoliers of ammunition for their M16's. Dave found a 'K-Pot' Kevlar helmet and a better vest and Seth just happened to find a DAFAZ First Sergeant carrying a .357 loaded with hollow-point rounds, with one hundred and twenty of them packed in a pouch. Both Seth and Dave had packs now with things they cannibalized from other kits, including the extra bandoliers they had taken.

"Alright boys," says Rodgers as they're starting off towards Dave's house, "how has today been for the both of you so far?" he asks this as if nothing happened.

To this, Seth replies, "I've been itching to shoot this thing, and taking down a sumbitch that wants to fuck up my way of life felt pretty good. But don't get me wrong, I kill my enemy, but I do not hate him. The way I see this, we're soldiers. We fight, and if we die, shit happens, we're doing our job."

Surprised by his answer, not used to hearing Seth say more than a few words, Dave says, "Well, I don't know. I've never been a soldier-type, never wanted to enlist. But I guess I don't have a choice do I? I killed someone today, but I don't know how I feel about it. I had to, or we could've died, it's a him or me thing I guess. Ya know?"

"Yeah, I hear that," says Rodgers, "I always said I could kill someone in self defense, or if I was given no other option, looks like that holds true. When I was sitting there in wait, I was focused on my sights, I pulled the trigger without a second thought. I knew what I had to do. I also knew that they were the enemy and they would've killed me first had I not acted." with that said, he shrugs. They are by this time at the corner now, walking down Pennview avenue towards Dave's house.

"Uh, I don't think my Dad'll appreciate me bringing you two with me after that fucking crazy shit. Hell, I don't think he'll appreciate me walking inside with a fucking arsenal either, so I guess we can meet up later if one of us isn't missing a leg by then." says Dave.

As they pass by Daves house, Dave breaks off and Seth and Rodgers continue down the street without a word to each other, most likely the both of them thinking over the events of their short, but chaotic day so far.

"Oi" says Rodgers, "Seth, you think we should be putting the rest of those sandbags in place and reinforcing the windows when we get back?"

"I do think so, I'll actually do the work with the sandbags, you just cover my lumpy ass okay?"

"Works for me."

Though calm on the outside, inside Rodgers' brain is in overdrive running through the events of that day. Though he is not in shock, nor is he questioning his actions. The only thing that keeps popping up in his head is:

I just fired my first shot, my first shot as a soldier in the greatest conflict on American soil since the war of 1812. Our first shots...