10-30 Chap 1 redux Moose42's MHI Fan Fiction *Spoiler Alert*

[Jericho941]

This has... actually got me working on a bit of fan fiction of my own.

[moose42]

This has... actually got me working on a bit of fan fiction of my own.

Sweet man, can't wait till you post a bit of it. Just start a new thread.

[Jennifer]

This really is a lot of fun. I've never even been real big on fan fiction. I've got my own story brewing. Nothing related to MHI. Not even ready for samples yet, but I'll give you guys the first taste when it is ready.

[Jennifer]

This really is a lot of fun. I've never even been real big on fan fiction. I've got my own story brewing. Nothing related to MHI. Not even ready for samples yet, but I'll give you guys the first taste when it is ready.

Oh crap. Did I just do that? Guess I just promised that I'm actually going to write something rather than let the idea fade. Suppose that means I should get to it.
Yeah, I quoted myself. Had to make sure I had really just said that.

[HTRN]

This really is a lot of fun. I've never even been real big on fan fiction.

If you like hardcore Scifi - checkout "Spacebattles.com"

They make us look almost normal. Current stories that I'm following there is "Hunted Tribes"(The RTF run straight into Clan Wolverine. I almost feel sorry for the toasters.. almost), and another battletech "what if": An Entry with a Bang!. Clancyverse earth, and everything else within a 60LY radius wind up in the Periphery in 3020. Those poor dumb Successor Lords - they're about to run into people who use terms like "BLOS" and stockpile nukes, like some people store firewood.

Then there's Ed Becerra, Spacebattles equivalent of well, me( ), who's currently writing yet another BT fanfic(and really was the one that kicked off the trend some time ago), about "Space libertarians" with supertech, screwing with the minds of Comstar. He also started off something of inside joke - asking Jaime Wolf of Wolf's Dragoons what the weather is like on Strana Mechty.


HTRN

[JKosprey]

I've got the beginnings of a story as well-didnt figure to post it here, especially the early parts because they have almost nothing to do with guns. The first two chapters are at the blog that serves as my signature if anyone is interested though. Former and current EMT's will probably appreciate it most. Soldiers too.

[randy]

One suggestion to add to this thread (or any other similar threads), you might want to add a spoiler warning to the first post/title. I did not read this before finishing MHI, and glad I didn't. Some of the discussion of the characters from MHI in your story gives away a few things from the book (such as their survival for one thing).

So you might want to warn folks to read MHI first then this thread.

[moose42]

Chapter 9 is ready to go!

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Chapter 9
Answers

I wasn’t able to sleep after the earlier fight between my spirit grandfather, and the toughest hunter I’ve met. So I figured it was time to update the journal, unfortunately a lot had happened since I last wrote.

Mike has been kidnapped by an unknown group of vampires. They had a gargoyle with them. Three hunters were wounded and one gave his life defending my brother. Thomas ‘The Mustache’ Davidson, was a veteran hunter, well liked by his team. He was married with two young children. I feel somewhat responsible for his death. I didn’t know him but he deserved better than to be torn apart by a vicious monster.

Grandpa Miller visited me again, he said Mike is still alive but he does not know where. He “muted” Earl Harbinger temporarily; I have never seen anyone so angry. I will not rest until I have found my brother, dead or alive. Whoever took him will be sent back to Hell!

I heard the cafeteria door swing open, I looked at my watch, it was 4:30am. Katrina stood in the doorway silhouetted against the light of the hallway. Her bright red curls were neatly done up in a braid to keep them out of the way. She was wearing her uniform pants, t-shirt, and had her M4 carbine slung over her shoulder. I smiled, even amidst all the anger and fear that I was fighting, seeing her pulled me out of my pit of despair.

“Hey Moose, take a picture!” She chuckled. I quickly looked back at my journal. She walked up to me, I wasn’t fully dressed but enough to be descent. I snapped my book closed and set it on the cot.

“Hey Kat, come to visit the prisoner?” I joked.

She looked at my M14 leaning against the concrete wall and shrugged. “I’m sure MHI wouldn’t be foolish enough to give prisoners battle rifles.” She said as she removed her rifle and leaned it against the wall next to mine. “Is this seat taken?” she asked pointing at where my journal sat on the cot.

I snatched the journal up and quickly said “Umm, no, I was saving it for you.”

“What do we have here?” she asked intrigued, as she placed her slender fingers on my journal.

I started to move the book away from her, “It’s nothing.”

“Oh ok well if it’s NOTHING,” she snatched it out of my grasp and deftly moved away from my clumsy attempt to grab it back. “You won’t mind if I take a LOOK at it!”

I slumped back against the cold concrete wall; I knew it was useless to fight her over it, so I tried reverse psychology. “Meh, who cares there isn’t anything interesting in there anyway.”

She flipped though the pages and opened my journal at a seemingly random page. She quickly scanned the words I had scribbled on the page just a few weeks before. Her eyes got real wide for a moment, crap she must have turned to the entry about her.

“Met a wonderful woman yesterday,” she did an impersonation of my deeper voice. “She is Bee You Tee Full, and packs a pistol, even if it is a GLOCK!” she over emphasized the name of the pistol. I tried to bury my head in my hands. “She gave me a HUG last night. I don’t really know anything else about her… blah blah blah. Except that I want to get into her pants!”

I scowled at her, “That’s not what I wrote!” I barked.

She smiled a coy smile. “But it’s true isn’t it? I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She tossed my journal at my chest, I caught it and set it down on my pile of gear. “How many ‘pictures’ have you taken of me?” she laughed, I couldn’t deny it.

“Why are you here anyway just to torment me?” I said looking up at her shadows played across her feminine form in the dim light.

She sat down on the cot next to me, “The truth is I couldn’t sleep.” She let out a long deep breath and continued. “I have been awake trying to uncover some answers.”

I nodded “Me too.” Kat leaned over putting her head on my shoulder.

“Marty, I am really sorry for what happened to your brother.” She sounded genuinely concerned.

I put my hand on top of hers and sighed, “It’s a small comfort knowing at least he is still alive.”

“How could you possibly know that?” she stiffened slightly.

“Well my grandfather visited me and told me that he still lives.” I was having a hard time keeping it all bottled in.

She sat up and looked me in the eye, “Wait a minute you mean your dead grandfather has been talking to you?” I nodded, “In an Obi-Wan to Luke kind of thing?”

“Something like that.” I replied.

She smiled, “That is so cool.” She paused apparently deep in thought, “Was he semi-transparent with a blue aura around him?”

I shook my head, “No, it’s just like he was when he was alive.”

“Did he tell you where the vampires have taken your brother?”

I frowned. “He said their evil power hides them in darkness or something like that.” We sat in silence for a while. I was finally getting sleepy; maybe having Kat next to me was helping.

Kat intertwined her fingers with mine. “Did your grandpa say anything else important?” She asked. I sat for a moment and then it hit me.

“He did! He said to tell Harbinger that he still owed him one for saving his ass in Carlsbad Caverns!”

She looked perplexed, “Well what does that have to do…”

“With anything?” I finished her sentence, “Look Carlsbad is where my grandfather died, he killed a master vampire, and then died of his wounds, back in ’93.” I began breathing rapidly my words started spilling out uncontrollably. “All the members of the Miller bloodline have been systematically killed off since then.” I struggled to finish “My brother and I are the last of line!”

Kat slid away from me, I could tell she was bothered by what I was saying. “Woah, what are you talking about?”

“Look I can’t completely explain it, but all these events started with the death of the master vampire and my grandfather, March third 1993.” I closed my eyes for a moment, and breathed deeply. “When my grandfather killed that master he…” I couldn’t continue.

“Really pissed something off, didn’t he.” Kat finished my thought for me. Neither of us spoke for the longest time.

“Marty?” she asked.

I turned to look at her, “Yes?” I replied. Her olive skin glistened with a hint of sweat.

“Put this in your journal.” She whispered in a deep sultry voice. We kissed; her warm, moist lips met mine. I ran my fingers through her deep brown curls, as she pulled me in close. When we finally came up for air she smiled and rubbed my five o’clock shadow. “That’s enough for now. We have a mission to prepare for.”

I snapped out of my kiss induced stupor, “You’re right. Let’s go find my brother.”


***

The sun was just beginning to bring light to the far eastern horizon, in the pre dawn. Each member of the team checked and rechecked our gear in the hanger.

The team assembling in the hanger included; Owen and Julie Pitt, Earl Harbinger, Stan Adams, Sam Haven, John “Trip” Jones, Katrina Kennedy, and myself; what an odd collection of humanity we must have been.

In the hanger were two modified trucks, a Suburban, and a Cummins diesel quad cab pickup truck. Each had a brush guard on the front, and extra high intensity lights mounted in front of the grill. Large knobby but not oversized tires graced the wheels; both rigs had mild three inch suspension lifts. The bodies of the vehicles were covered in a spray on bed liner material, giving them a non reflective tough exterior. I all but drooled.

Kat saw me leering at the trucks and called out “Hey Marty take…”

“A picture, I know I know.” I rolled my eyes and she just shook her head.

We tossed heavy military surplus air tight cases into the back of both vehicles. Then it hit me, we weren’t going to drive all the way to New Mexico but why the vehicles. Seemingly as an answer to my question the hangar doors, slowly opened. A massive former military cargo plane sat out on the runway. “No way! It’s a C-130!” I said to no one. I was impressed how did we score such a plane? The traditional Air-force grey had been repainted green. I walked up to the right hand side and saw in large stencils, “MHI Gryphon” A black stylized Gryphon rearing up on its hind legs adorned the nose near the radar dome.

A man dressed in a flight suit was doing a walk-around the plane, he was apparently inspecting the landing gear. He saw me and turned around and stretched out his hands. “Hello, Captain Brandon Williamson, MHI heavy airlift at you service!” He was in his mid 50’s with wisps of grey in his hair and a sweet curly mustache over his lip.

I shook his hand and told him my name. “Martin Miller, Hunter.” It sounded strange to call myself a hunter; I didn’t really feel like I deserved the title. “Nice plane captain C130 I love the gryphon, it really fits.”

He smiled, “Well thanks; I’ve tried to get her in good shape. She was a bit of a mess when the company bought her. Gryphon here is an old bird, she was born in ’65, but I’ve never been let down by a Herky Bird.”

I hadn’t seen Captain Williamson before or his large bird, “Captain, so how did the company contract your services?”

“Bah, it’s a long and boring story, but suffice it to say I used to fly the Hercules for the Air-force, and when MHI offered to let me fly a private one I jumped at the chance.” He seemed almost giddy to be back behind the wheel… err yoke.

We loaded the vehicles and gear, strapped ourselves into jump seats, and rolled out on the tarmac. The four Allison turboprop engines roared to life, I could feel the vibrations in my teeth. Kat sat in the jump seat next to me, “Hey Moose why are you sweating?” she asked.

“Umm, it’s hot in here.” I lied, it was actually fairly cool.

Kat poked me in the ribs. “Admit it, you are scared of flying!” she yelled over the noise of the engines as the pilot increased the throttle.

“Flying doesn’t bother me. It’s the breaking apart in mid air that I am afraid of.” I hollered back.

The plane lurched forward as the propellers beat the air into submission. The massive plane rolled down the runway and we went airborne.

[randy]

Actually, for many of us old farts, green is the traditional color for a C-130. This new fangled gray scheme is just a fad.

[moose42]

Installment # 10 for your reading pleasure.

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Chapter 10
Carlsbad Caverns

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We will begin our descent to Cavern City Air Terminal in approximately ten minutes. Time to buckle up.” Captain Williamson sounded cool and confident over the intercom. I wished I could say the same. Flying thousands of feet above the ground in an aluminum metal tube was not something I enjoyed. Thankfully I had been so tired from the events earlier this morning I was able to nod off a few times during the flight.

We had made the approximately one thousand mile trip in about three hours. I was looking forward to having solid earth beneath my feet again. As we started our descent my stomach felt like it was tied in knots and shoved up into my throat. I feared loosing it if I opened my mouth. I wasn’t the amusement park junky that my brother was, I had hated going on roller coasters when I was a kid.

Finally the landing gear extended and the tires squealed as they hit the asphalt of the runway. Earth, sweet earth, we had made it! The plane taxied over to the hangars, where we would disembark. The massive rear door opened and I staggered out of the airplane. The massive propellers were spinning down but they still whipped dust into a frenzy. I resisted the urge to kiss the ground, because if I did I wouldn’t ever hear the end of it from Kat.

Stan slapped me on the shoulder. “Hey Marty you look a little green around the gills, are you going to be ok?” I mumbled that I was fine. “Good then why don’t you drive the pickup off the plane?” He insisted. It was time to cowboy up, I had a job to do. I climbed up into the driver’s seat of the truck and waited for the loadmaster to disconnect the chains.

I hadn’t met any of the crew before the flight except the Captain and with all my dozing off I hadn’t met the loadmaster. He was wearing a long sleeved jumpsuit, a baklava and aviator sunglasses. I didn’t know how anyone could wear that entire getup in the heat. He disconnected the chains. “Hey, you! Move… slow back!” he said in heavily accented English. I fired up the ignition stood on the brake and shifted into reverse. The diesel engine growled its deep throaty rumble as I backed down the ramp. I pulled the truck away from the plane and parked it off to the side, out of any traffic.

In a few minutes we had the vehicles and equipment disembarked from the plane. All the other hunters were gathered back inside the now empty cavernous cargo hold.

Earl Harbinger was talking to the other hunters who had gathered around. As I approached he saw me. “Martin, good, let’s get this briefing started.” He paused to clear his throat, “Frankly we don’t know what is lurking in these caverns. The last time we sent hunters in looking for trouble we found it. Roy Miller, Jose Esparanza, and Bill Hudson didn’t make it back.” His stoic expression softened for a moment, I could tell that he took it personally when Hunters were killed. His rock hard visage returned and he looked right at me. “Martin here has reason to believe the vampires have taken his brother down into these caves.” Some of the Hunters murmured.

“Let me make this perfectly clear. This is not a rescue operation. This is a search and destroy mission! If we find Michael Miller alive so be it, but our primary objective is the eradication of the vampire menace.” Harbinger hadn’t really wanted to go on this mission based on my word alone, but there were accounts of increased vampire activity in the area according to the supermarket tabloids. I was able to convince him to launch this mission only if I swore to kill my own brother had they turned him into a vampire. I promised him I would, being trapped in the world between the living and the dead was not an existence I wanted for anyone especially not my brother. Better to kill him and send him on to our grandfather than to let him “live” in a state of eternal torment and predatory murder.

We drove the two vehicles toward the National Park, as the sun peaked out from behind scattered clouds. Unfortunately for us unlike every other vehicle on this road we wouldn’t be roasting hotdogs and marshmallows, some undead, maybe. Stan Adams hit the brakes as Harbinger in the lead vehicle stopped in the middle of the road.

“What is it?” Stan called out through the radio.

Harbingers rough voice answered, “This is the road to the back side of the mountain.” He said as the Suburban turned off the paved road onto a road of tire tracks. “What, you guys thought vampires would nest in the main tourist attractions?”

The road progressively got worse. It started out passable, even for a minivan full of lost tourists, but after a couple of miles spots of the trail had been washed out from flash floods. Sitting in the back seat I tried to point out obstacles and rocks but Stan ignored me.

He drove the truck over a large rock and slammed the front differential into it. The horrible sounds of metal on stone rang out from below our rig.

“Look Stan, you are trying your best but obviously you aren’t an experienced off road driver.” I said as he slammed on the brakes.

“Fine ‘wonder-boy’ you think you can drive better prove it!” He yelled as he slammed the truck into park and got out. I radioed for Harbinger in the lead vehicle to stop as soon as it was safe for him to do so. I got out of the truck and checked the undercarriage of the rig. Thankfully nothing looked broken, no leaking fluids, or parts hanging down where they shouldn’t. He had cleared the rock and thankfully had plenty of clearance for the oil pan skid plate. I walked around the rig and began letting some air out of each tire.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stan looked at me like I was a monkey with a sledgehammer in a room full of antique dishes.

I sighed, “Look, high PSI is great for driving on the highway, when the tires need to be rigid. If you haven’t noticed we won’t be seeing pavement for a while. When one is seriously rock crawling the tires need to be aired down so they can flex and grab the rocks.” I tried to explain tire pressure to Stan as I finished airing down the second tire.

With no more complaining from the passengers I shifted the truck into four wheel low, and attacked the trail at a much lower speed than Stan had attempted. Crawling up steep slopes in low gears was much safer then hitting the gas and trying to sprint up the incline. Soon I caught up with the Suburban and had them also air down their tires.

About an hour later we ended up in a secluded spot where the road literally ended. A steep thirty foot drop awaited us. We parked the vehicles and surveyed the surrounding area.

Harbinger came up to me and hit me on the shoulder, “Good driving son, back in ’93 the road wasn’t so bad.”

I muttered “Oh it was nothing.” As I took a swig from my canteen, the mercury had risen to over 100 degrees and it wasn’t about to let up. It was noon, and my stomach rumbled. I had been so busy with everything I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten something.

Kat laughed, “Gosh Moose, your stomach could wake the dead.”

“Or undead.” I suggested.

We took a few minutes to drink water and choke down a few bites of energy bars, and bananas. I figured it was better to die on a full rather than empty stomach.

We repelled down the cliff and made our way through the scraggly sagebrush. Harbinger lead the group since he was the only one here who had been to these caverns before. Hiking in the back country in shorts and a t-shirt was difficult enough. But wearing armor, carrying ammo, climbing equipment and a rifle made it worse.

I adjusted the sling on my modified M14. It wasn’t the best choice for close quarters combat, but it would put out a lot of hurt in a short amount of time. Most of the other hunters carried shotguns or .45 auto subguns.

Two crappy uphill miles later Harbinger stopped in front of the mouth of a cave. We had arrived! I closed my eyes, my grandfather and two other hunters died in there. Would I be next? Would Kat, or Owen, or Sam… I tried to push those destructive thoughts out of my head, but they lingered. RUN! Get the HELL out of here! My rational brain screamed at me! Fear clung to my mind like a sticky blob of pitch. No amount of elbow grease could remove it.

“Mr. Miller! Snap out of it! We need you in this fight!” I looked at Sam his mustache dripped with sweat.

I forced down the bile that was gathering in my throat. “Yes sir, I’ll be ok.”

“All right this is how this situation is going to play out.” Harbinger began. “Owen, Julie, Myself, Sam, and Stan, will enter the cave first. Trip, Katrina, and Martin will stay behind for support. Skippy should arrive with the Hind helicopter and reinforcements in about an hour; he is almost to the airport and needs to refuel before he can give us air cover and if needed casualty evac. Make sure he can see this location from the air.” Arguing with Harbinger would be pointless. He knew I had too much emotion invested in this mission, to let me go charging in guns blasting.

The advance team entered the cave, soon enough their radio broadcasts were choked with static. Solid rock has a fantastic way of blocking radio waves.

Trip, Kat and I unrolled a 20ft. by 20ft blue tarp with a red X on it and staked it in the ground by the entrance. The bright blue tarp would stick out like a sore thumb from the air, amid all the brown and green.

We sat in the mouth of the cave to keep from burning up in the sun. I had only met Trip briefly a couple of times since joining MHI. I figured we had time to kill, so I asked him. “So Trip, how did you end up working for the company?”

He rubbed the sweat from his forehead and replied. “Zombies.”

“Zombies?” I replied. “Kat and I ran into a few…”

“Zombies!” Kat yelled. We both looked at her like she had gone mad. She had her M4 Carbine shouldered and pointed at the desert between us. Trip and I looked. Hundreds of zombies were pouring out of the ground not thirty feet away from us.

She opened fire dropping one zombie but a horde was right behind it. Tripp pumped a burst from his UMP .45 auto and two more fell. I aimed for heads and fired as fast as I could acquire them through my red dot sight. I knew they would overrun our position in moments.

Trip yelled “Get in the cave!” We walked backwards firing as we went. Bodies started to pile up in the mouth of the cave, but they kept coming, pushing their downed comrades. I dropped an empty magazine and reached for a new one when a rather fat zombie dropped from above the mouth of the cave, he hit me with a massive blubbery arm and I scrambled to keep my footing. Kat pumped three rounds into its head, splattering me with fragments of skull and brains.

Trip pulled a small black nylon bag he had been carrying and tossed it outside the cave entrance. “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” He yelled and ran further back into the cave. I grabbed Kat and we dove for cover. A zombie wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with “I (heart) New York” had picked up the bag and was trying to tear into it.

The zombie from New York was turned into red mist when the bomb exploded. Scores of the beasts were flung like rag dolls. The earth covering the cave mouth sloughed off the mountain like a great earthen avalanche and sealed us in our own tomb.