Devil Dogs: Marines in the Apocalypse #3: Marines in the Apocalypse

By Scott Free

PFC Douglas 'Java' Belfountain and his companions continue the struggle to stay alive in this installment of Marines in the Apocalypse. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott Free
• Release date: Oct 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386931102

Book preview

Chapter 1: Push

Labor? I shook my head, figuring my ears must’ve still been filled with canal muck.

Cat Chow smacked the back of my helmet. Labor, dude. Y’know, where a chick pops a little dude out. Did your momma never teach you the way things work? I gave a half-hearted swing at his head, but my arms felt like they had lead bones and he dodged my hand easily. Uh-oh! Little Dougy is getting’ mad. Does talkin’ about where babies come from upset you, Java-Boy? He looked at me with a big-eyed face filled with mock concern. I couldn’t help myself. I snorted, coughed, and then started laughing.

It was like a dam collapsing. All my stress and fear that I had been keeping locked up came bursting out. Cat Chow followed suit, and even Smiley chuckled a little—after he was assured that we weren’t having a nervous breakdown. Throb looked irritated, Caleb looked scared, and Charlie just swore and looked disgusted. I didn’t care. It had been one hell of a day. I was tired, hungry, and sore. If I wanted to let of a little steam, I was going to damn well do it, and if they didn’t like it they could just kiss this Marine’s pale, hairless behind.

I didn’t get much more than three seconds to relax before Smiley started slinging questions and orders left, right, and down the middle. In the excitement, Charlie had left his post, and I was ordered to his sentry post. Cat Chow was ordered to the other side of the building. After I swore at Charlie and before I left the room, I heard that Lara’s water had burst a couple hours before. What that meant, I had no idea. My knowledge of obstetrics is limited to how to get the little buggers conceived, everything after that I leave to the nurses and doctors.

The only problem is—there was no doctor, and unless you count putting Band-Aids on scratches—we weren’t exactly swimming in nurses, either. Sure, we all knew a little first aid, but helping a woman give birth was somehow missed in basic training. I stripped off my gear and settled down by the window, grabbing the rifle that Charlie had left leaning next to the window. Visions of screaming women surrounded by doctors and medical machinery, all busily gleaming and beeping (the machines, not the doctors) swam through my head, and I wondered how the hell we were going to get through this.

I could hear Smiley asking Lara questions followed by the soon-to-be mother’s responses. She didn’t sound like the movies. She sounded calm—if a little nervous. Hell, I was more nervous than when the doc grabbed my nutsack when I enlisted. Where were the screams? Where was the outraged female swearing, cursing all males to three levels below hell? Where was the hoo-hoo-hee breathing? What the hell, a guy can’t rely on Hollywood for anything anymore. I listened a little while, until I got bored with it and decided to pay attention to my sentry job before some stew snuck up and bit my balls off and left me with no more reason to worry about how babies are made.

It wasn’t until maybe two hours later that I heard the first indication of pain. Lara groaned. It wasn’t earth-shattering, but it was loud enough that I heard it even though I was upstairs and she was downstairs. It didn’t last long, but when she was done, she sounded out of breath when she complained, Holy shit, that hurt.

Charlie soothed her and told her that she was doing fine, and that it would all be over in just a little bit. Just remember to breath.

How can I breathe when he’s kicking the shit outa me from the inside?

Is he kicking? Smiley asked.

Hell, yes, she replied. The little guy must be wearing a pair of those Army boots you guys wear. Which one of you is missing your boots?

Cat Chow must’ve been able to hear the conversation, as well, because he shouted, Wasn’t me! I still got mine on. I’m pretty sure it was Belfountain. Last I saw him, his boots were missing. Isn’t that right, Java?

He got me. I had removed my muddy boots and stripped off my soggy socks so my feet could get a little fresh air. I was still trying to think of a proper comeback when everyone but Caleb and I burst out laughing. Apparently, I had taken to long to respond.

Cat Chow kept it up. See, he’s the one! He did it! He’s the cul—cul—

Culprit, Smiley finished for him.

Yeah. That’s what I said.

It was good to hear everybody laugh. I just wish it wasn’t at my expense.

Lara asked loud enough for me to hear, Do you think he’ll take responsibility and make an honest woman of me? A fresh round of laughter filled the station. Dammit. Why is it always me? I was going to have to get someone to teach me the art of the quick comeback so I wasn’t always the butt of the joke.

It went on like this