Please let me know if you have a better Latin phrase to use.Inlaid in silver down the length of the blade were the words, “Tergum Ut Abyssus!” I looked at Earl with a puzzled look; I had always hated Latin in high school.
“Back to Hell!” he explained.
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Chapter 6
Training
“Ready on the line!” Sam Haven the range master bellowed so we could hear over our hearing protection. “Commence firing!” all the other trainees fired immediately. I took my time, the target wasn't going anywhere. The front sight, rear sight and black bull’s-eye aligned perfectly, I held my breath and gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle barked, the rifle gently recoiled into my shoulder; the smell of burning gunpowder hit the air. The bullet flew down range and hit the black.
I cycled the bolt loading another .22 caliber cartridge into the chamber. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, squeeze, bang! I fired slowly and methodically taking my time to try and exactly duplicate each shot. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, pause. I hadn't liked how I was lined up on the target so I started over. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, squeeze, bang! I was the last to finish firing; as I put the safety on the rifle, pulled the bolt to the rear and set it down on the bench. The trainee next to me, a skinny young Asian named Kim had thrown his rounds down range almost as fast as he could cycle the action.
“Cease Fire!” The range master yelled. On the firing line the range master was a god, you did what he said or faced ejection. “Take off your eyes and ears.” We removed our hearing protection and shooting glasses. “Let’s take a look at your targets.”
We were shooting on the fifty foot range. This was a preliminary test to see how well we could shoot before we were broken into training groups based on skill. Some of the new recruits had never fired a weapon before.
We walked out to the first target as a group, only two rounds had hit the paper, high and to the right. “Whose target is this?” Sam the tall imposing cowboy asked.
Gingerly Sara raised her hand. “It's mine sir.” She said timidly, she had been a waitress before and had obviously no experience with firearms.
Gently he explained “Looks like you are jerking the trigger. Your whole hand is moving when you shoot. Try to concentrate on moving just your trigger finger, nothing else should be moving.” he held up his hand. He slowly moved just his trigger finger in a controlled slow movement. “When you jerk it this happens.” he moved his whole hand backward in a rapid motion. “That will move the whole rifle and cause your shots to go who knows where.” Sara nodded.
We moved down the line at each target he would take his time to explain what the shooter had done wrong and explain to them and the entire class what to do to correct it.
Then he came down to my target. “Who's target is this?”
I raised my hand, “Mine sir!” I boasted slightly.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” he asked. All of my rounds had hit in the black. Four of the rounds were touching, and the fifth wasn't that far off.
“Scout camp sir.” I said proudly.
Sam smiled, “Are you an Eagle scout?”
“Yes Sir!” I smiled back.
We returned to our shooting positions and fired at the remaining four targets. Most of the students improved a little with the instructions given by Sam, but most had a long way to go.
We were dismissed for lunch and I was itching to talk to Kat. She was put in another training group, and I hadn't seen her for most of the day. I was thinking about her when we were crossing the exercise field, and didn't see the gopher hole.
“Son of a...!” I yelled as I fell to the ground, I could already tell that I had messed up my ankle. Kim and Sara laughed when they saw me fall.
“Looks like Mister Boy Scout isn't so perfect after all!” I glared up at her from the ground, she just kept walking.
Kim laughed at me, “Dude first day on your new feet?” I gritted my teeth and tried to get up. Fire shot up my ankle. Kim extended a hand and I waved him off.
“I am just fine!” I lied. I pulled myself up and tried to step on my wounded foot. Big mistake, flaming nails shot through my foot, and I swayed precariously.
Kim grabbed a hold of me to keep me from falling on my face again. “Whoa slow down hot shot. Let me help you.” I reluctantly let him help me across the field and into the main compound. “We need to get you to the Doc.”
I shook my head, “Let’s get lunch first I am starving, then I'll go to the doc.” I actually wasn't that hungry but I didn't want to miss a chance to see Kat.
“Alright it’s your funeral not mine.”
I hobbled into the cafeteria and found a seat no sooner did I sit down Kat's training group arrived. They had just gotten out of Introduction to Monsters 101. When she saw me she smiled. I forgot my pain and smiled back. She sat across the table from me, “So how did you do?” she asked.
“Oh not too bad, I qualified for the advanced shooting group.” I said with a bit too much pride.
“Really? Me too!” She wore a mischievous grin. “Looks like I can't get rid of you, I knew I should have shot a beginners score.”
I rolled my eyes, “Sure, whatever you say Annie Oakley.”
The next couple of weeks flew by; thankfully my ankle recovered, I only had to miss two exercise sessions, they made me pay penance for it by working in the kitchen.
We covered small unit tactics with drills on close quarters combat, hand to hand fighting, advanced marksmanship, in-depth monster behaviors and weaknesses. Nearly every minute of each day was filled with something to help us survive our first monster hunt, and hopefully our second.
The instructors didn’t sugar coat the truth, casualty rates for first year Hunters was very high. This was a sobering thought, since statistics like that don’t really hit home until you know someone who has died. My grandfather had been a Hunter for over thirty years when he died. He was about ready to retire when that servant of evil killed him.
I won’t go into detail about the decapitation class, some things I would just rather forget. Suffice it to say, when dealing with vampires, the best way to keep them dead is cutting off the head.
Today we would be issued our armor. Only the recruits who made it into the final stage of training were issued armor. Out of the original group of fifty five recruits only eighteen remained. Thankfully Sara decided to return to waitressing, while Kim and Katherine had decided to stay. Kat had such a fire and determination behind her deep brown eyes, she would never quit. During the times when I had my doubts and thoughts of quitting and going back to pulling cables I would think of her and how I couldn’t let her beat me.
I struggled into my armor, I hadn’t ever worn anything like this before. I opted for the Olive drab color. Charles Brewer, already had his Brown armor on and it looked like it was made for him, everything was perfectly in its place. He had served in the Marines for just over 15 years until a blow to the head had caused him to lose a little of his peripheral vision in one eye. He fought his medical discharge saying he could still fight and shoot with the best of them. But the government prevailed and forced him out. We had hit it off right away when he found out my Grandfather was a former Marine and Hunter. I called him Gunny, or Sarge.
“Miller, let me help you, you’re just going to make it worse!” He said as I struggled with the tangled mess I was trying to put on. He came over and started tugging at the straps on my armor.
I sighed, “Gunny, how did you guys ever fight wearing this stuff?” He ignored me and continued to straighten out my harness.
“There you go boy, but don’t expect me to hold your hand next time!” he gave me a couple of friendly smacks on the shoulder and we left the barracks to meet the rest of the team assembled on the exercise field, for uniform inspection.
We came around the barracks and I saw Kat all dressed up in her dark green armor, even under the layers of heavy duty nylon and Kevlar she looked great. When she saw Sarge and I walking up she smiled, a pure feminine smile that made me weak in the knees.
Sarge elbowed me in the ribs, even beneath armor it still hurt. “Snap out of it lover boy, you were practically drooling.”
I punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I was not.” I was about to go up to talk to Kat when Milo yelled for us to line up. We quickly found our places in line and he came around to inspect each of us. Milo was the resident crazy inventor and handyman. He had returned last week from his honeymoon with his new wife Shauna.
When it was my turn to be inspected he rolled his eyes and went to work adjusting my armor. He took one look at Gunny and just nodded.
As we were about to be dismissed a siren sounded from multiple loud speakers. None of us trainees were armed; Milo just had a 1911 pistol on his belt.
The siren cut off, Dorcas yelled into the microphone. “This is not a drill, perimeter breach northwest corner behind the men’s barracks, this is not a drill!” I suddenly realized we were just on the other side of the barracks from whatever it was that had just hopped the fence.
Gunny grabbed my arm and we ran toward the main compound. Kat, Kim and others were already ahead of us. We had been instructed to seek shelter in the basement of the primary compound in the event of an emergency. Milo was running and firing his .45 over his shoulder at whatever was chasing us, which made me run even faster. In seconds the slide locked back on his pistol and he hastily reached for a new magazine.
The compound was still a hundred yards away when decided to look over my shoulder, ten ghastly grey former human shapes were closing the distance incredibly fast. I poured on as much speed as I could muster while wearing combat boots and heavy armor, but I knew they would overtake us and rip us apart with their ghastly claws.
Hunters poured out of the main compound brandishing rifles and pointed them right at us. Sam Haven still wearing his Stetson hat bellowed. “Get down!” We hit the dirt and the hunters opened up on the monsters.
I lay on the ground as hundreds of rounds ripped by inches above my head. Kat was off to my left, she tried to cover her head with her arms, and she glanced at me, her face was a mask of fear and panic. I am sure I didn’t look any better. I pulled grandpa’s Ka-Bar knife out of its old leather sheath, if some dammed undead somehow made it through the withering hail of gunfire I wanted a fighting chance.
I rolled over on my back and looked back at the approaching enemy. A wight collapsed only twenty feet away. I heard barking and saw from the corner of my eye a large dog. Vampire dogs? Those hadn’t been covered in class. More shots were fired and the dog whimpered but it was too late.
Snarling undead teeth lunged for my neck; I shoved my thumb in its glowing red eye and grabbed a handful of matted hair and ear. I plunged the Ka-Bar knife deep into the dead dog’s neck. Black blood sprayed everywhere. The beast thrashed trying to get its head free to rip out my throat. I kicked it with both legs somehow sending it airborne. In an amazing feat of marksmanship Sam nailed the beast in mid air with his massive lever action rifle. It fell in a heap of twisted legs and gore. The guns had gone silent; the danger was over for now.
I lay on the ground breathing heavily, Kat ran over to me. “Marty are you ok?” she looked down at me her face worried.
I stretched out my hand; it took two of them to get me back on my feet. “I think so.” I looked over at the twice dead mutt and asked. “What was that thing?”
Sam took off his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That there is a Demon Dog, Dead Dog, or Devil Dog.” He said. Gunny took offense to the term Devil Dog. Only US Marines were called that. “The important thing is these beasts are pets and servants of Master vampires.”
I shuddered, “Why would they be so brazen and attack the MHI compound directly in broad daylight?”
Kim who was crouched down next to one of the dead wights, spoke up “Guys, I think I know why. Look.”
The wight was lying on its back, written in red human blood on its chest was “Feast upon the blood of Miller!” Every wight had the same message written on their chests.
I threw up.