Human Nature

Human Nature

By Jason Halstead

Published by Novel Concept Publishing LLC at Smashwords

©2011

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Cover art © 2010 Selena Kitt

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Chapter 1

Medic!

Dawn cursed under her breath, proving she could speak as fluently as the soldier who once wore her jacket. She ran, heading in a straight line across the broken pavement until she slid shoulder first into the side of the van the squad hid behind. The echo of gunfire, both near and afar, rang in her ears. The noise made it impossible for her to hear the shouted instructions of the soldier nearby.

He pointed at a fallen man and she nodded, grabbing her kit and moving up to him. The man had a hand to his neck, covered in blood. She fought the urge to grimace; the odds were not good. Blood ran from a cut on his chin as well, trickling down to mix with the blood pooled in the hollow of his throat.

She readied some gauze and pulled the man’s hand away, expecting a spurt of blood to come her way. It did not. With an almost audible sigh of relief she wiped at the blood and saw more well up immediately from the non-fatal hole in the man’s neck.

Smiling at the small miracle, she poured disinfectant powder on it and stitched the wound closed. A bandage and then some tape and she was done.

The ratcheting noise of bullets slamming into the van made her jerk and duck down. She looked up a minute later, breathing fast and hard. The wounded soldier grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up, then said, Thanks Doc!

Don’t make a habit of it, she replied, talking too loudly because of her partial deafness.

He nodded and rolled back, picking up his rifle to rejoin the fight. Dimly she heard another distant call. It came from behind her, the other side of their force. The other side of the ambush they’d walked into. She dared not close her eyes for the moment she wanted to. Peace and solitude was no longer available to her. None of the human race had the right anymore, it seemed. None of the survivors, at least.

With a grunt she was up and running, the soldiers behind her offering some covering fire. Ammunition was more valuable than gold, but a medic ranked pound for pound like platinum. She made it and found there was nothing for her to do. The woman hissed out her last breath in her arms moments after she arrived. Dawn Vincent moved on as best she could, leaving the body behind and heading for the next victim that needed her help.

By the time the fight ended seventeen people had been injured. Of those, nine were dead. She knew three more would join them soon. Another four were questionable, but she did her best to help them out. Battlefield triage was never what she had in mind; she used to be a physicians’ assistant in a obstetrics ward. Babies. She grew up wanting to help bring babies into the world.

There weren’t many babies anymore, just kids picking up their fathers’ guns and trying to defend themselves. Instead of witnessing the miracle of birth she was struggling to keep people alive.

They were moving through what used to be the southern edges of Chicago. It still was a nice city, if you didn’t mind the destruction and intense radiation the northern edges would bring. She was part of a moving band of survivors. They scavenged and searched for a place to call home. Apparently this time they’d found a dirty little hole somebody else already hung their hat in. She heard the final count was nearly three dozen snipers had been waiting for them and tore them up pretty good. Oh sure, they had almost a hundred people, but these days life was sacred. Their lives, at least. Others too, if they weren’t too busy shooting to listen to offers of peace.

Hey Doc, how’s it going?

Dawn jerked out of her private reverie. She tried to smile but failed. Same old, different day, Mike. The Colonel itching for a report already?

Wouldn’t be the Colonel if he wasn’t, the man said.

Dawn sighed. All right, take me.

Anytime Doc, anytime, he said, his friendly smile letting her know the double entendre was intended, but still a joke.

Keep dreaming, L. T. , you know you officers aren’t supposed to consort with us non-coms, she tried to tease back.

That was before, these days anything goes.

Dawn chuckled. Not quite everything, big guy.

He affected a wounded expression and slapped his hand over his heart. You’re killing me Doc, but I bet you got the medicine I need.

She rolled her eyes, which made him laugh and give up at the same time. All right, let’s go.

How can you make jokes after a day like this? She asked him as they walked through the hastily erected campfires and shelters.

How can you not? he replied.

She thought about it and nodded. Good point.

The command center was the back end of a semi truck. The walls had been reinforced with extra sheet metal and some other stuff in between. One of the engineers they’d picked up said it was a layered armor or something. Dawn didn’t know and didn’t care; she rarely got invited into the command truck. It scared her, being around the man whose decisions affected the lives of everyone in their group.

Colonel, I found Doc Vincent, Lieutenant Mike Somers announced.

Doctor, he said, nodding towards her. What casualties?

Nine KIA, Sir. At least three more soon to follow, she said, standing stiffly.

He frowned. Twelve men. Damn.

So much for a bunch of untrained city-slickers, a man muttered behind the Colonel. Dawn recognized him immediately, he was their chief mechanic and the guy who could probably turn a bicycle into a Corvette if he had enough time.

That’s enough, Chief Foster, the Colonel said.

The Chief glared at another man, who had the decency to clear his throat and glance away. Dawn knew him too; he was their resident spook. She knew him better than most, in fact, though only because her best friend worked for him.

Come on; Chicago had two things, Mafioso and cockroaches, the Chief pushed, and that’s what survives the kind of shit we’ve been through.

Captain Snow bristled. They weren’t here when my scouts came through two days ago.

Enough! Colonel Wilson barked. You men have a problem, you deal with it on your time, not mine.

Dawn tried to fade into the background. She considered slipping out the open bay door and running back to her ambulance. Either her hesitation saved her or she neglected to act in time; the Colonel turned back to her. Doctor, thank you. I speak for all of us when I say that.

Dawn blushed a little, surprised at their leader’s empathy. She nodded and snapped off a salute, then turned and hurried away. If she made good time she might still find some warm food. She couldn’t help but wonder about the argument. Either the Chief didn’t care for Captain Snow or there had been a colossal fuck up. Either way, things had not gone as planned. Hopefully what they ran into today would be the last of it.

She ran into another familiar face as she made her way through the impromptu camp. Hey, Haskins! What’cha got there?

Billy Haskins was one of her frequent flyers. He was like a cat with nine lives, having dodged serious injuries more times than she had fingers. Dodging a critical wound often meant she got to put her signature into his flesh with a needle and thread though, and he often joked that his body would be worth millions someday when she became famous.

Only problem was nobody was famous anymore.

What we scrounged up from the attack, he said, slowing so she could check out the laundry basket of goodies he carried tight against his belly. Best get back to your ride. Oscar left you a present.

Ooh, a present, Dawn said, rolling her eyes. It better not be another gun; you know I’m no good with them.

Billy laughed. They had a stash of meds.

Dawn’s eyes widened. Remind me to give you guys a kiss!

Haskins stopped abruptly, ready to pucker up. Dawn had already double timed it back towards her ambulance, anxious to see what they had found. She forgot about her hunger as soon as she saw the hockey bag full of goodies lying beside the driver’s door. She almost cried out loud, seeing how full it was.

She stopped and laughed before she opened it. The black and silver bag had been defaced by sparkling pink lipstick. The words read: Love, Oscar.

Oscar Chavez: another character who had a special place in Dawn’s heart. He was a ladies’ man too, but Dawn wouldn’t let him have that part of her heart. Rumor had it he’d made his way through a fair share of the women in the camp already, but none of them had anything bad to say about him. She could see why; not only was he a good guy, but he never tried to hide the fact that he was an incorrigible hound. Plus, he had a great sense of humor.

Inside the bag she found enough supplies to keep her boys patched up for at least a few weeks. Antibiotics, pain pills, bandages galore, even some surgical tubing. A few syringes, one of which she nearly cut herself on, and some extra vials of stuff she couldn’t imagine they’d ever need. It included nearly two dozen bottles of various steroids with the cheap labels used by underground labs.

Who’d be stupid enough to be on this junk now? She wondered, tossing the gear back in the bag. She picked up the surprisingly heavy bag and hauled it back to the rear doors of the ambulance. She stowed it away, figuring she’d have time to sort the stuff out later. For now she had a mental inventory of it.

Dawn glanced around, saw some nearby campfires, and decided to try her luck. She walked up to the closest one and glanced at the faces near the fire. Many were huddled together, more for companionship and hope than warmth. It was the beginning of fall, so the cold weather had not set in yet, but there was a promise of a chill to come.

Doc! A couple of them greeted her, smiles coming to their faces. Dawn greeted them in tune. She seldom felt like it these days, but she knew what it meant to her troops.

They weren’t hers, they were the Colonel’s. Still, she referred to them as hers. Their blood might be on Colonel Wilson’s roster, but it was on her hands and her… her what? Was it on her soul? Did every death touch her and leave her hurting? She used to feel that way, but Dawn had long come to the acceptance of death and that there was only so much she could do. She tried, and she often felt guilty she had not tried harder.

She wondered how many men and women in the convoy she hadn’t shared a special moment with. Not the kind of special she barely remembered, but the intimacy of knowing they put her complete trust in her to make them better and help them get through to the next day.

I hate to impose, but have you guys got any scraps left? she asked.

Shit, Doc, don’t you ever think you’re butting in!

Dawn looked at the man who had spoken and felt a nagging itch in the back of her head. She knew his face… and his ass, come to think of it. She’d pulled some shrapnel out of it when he’d fallen on a rusted shopping cart. His name wouldn’t come to her though. She smiled in spite of it. Thanks, what ya got?

Got some Jiffy Pop and some roast dog, a brown-haired slip of a girl said. She detached herself from the slightly older man she was snuggled up against and pulled out a dented hubcap that had been cleaned – she hoped – and turned into a serving dish.

Poor Lassie, Dawn muttered, reaching in to take some of the strips of cooled meat. She felt the grease on her fingers and tried not to think about whose pet it may have been at one time. I’ll pass on the popcorn, can’t stand the kernels in my teeth.

It’s Jiffy Pop! the girl persisted.

Dawn laughed. That’s okay. Thanks, guys!

She settled down to absorb all the warmth and companionship she could. She enjoyed the camaraderie even though she mostly listened to them talk. Living vicariously through others even reminded her stomach to flutter a few times when she saw the couples sharing their warmth.

Hey Doc, how come I ain’t never seen you with a man? rusty ass man said, startling her.

Dawn blushed, then laughed as a girl threw a rusted can across the fire at him and berated him for being such a man.

What? He protested. Good looking woman like her, it’s a shame to see her go all lonely, that’s all.

Dawn laughed again. I’m too busy, stallion. Sorry to disappoint you. You rather I’m off holding hands with some dreamy guy or waiting for you to fall on another cart so I can patch you up?

It was too dark to tell, but the way he looked away quickly she knew she’d embarrassed him right back. You remember that? He asked a moment later, after the laughter had died down some. That caused it to renew, to his further embarrassment.

Best set of cheeks I’ve worked on yet, Dawn teased, with a wink.

He laughed too, deflating the situation and allowing them to find another topic of conversation. Dawn was glad; she didn’t want to spend much time on that topic. She’d lost enough friends; she didn’t want to lose any more. Definitely not another someone special. Chad had been her dream man and he‘d been picked off by a group of the fishmen the aliens left behind.

She hugged her knees to herself and smiled as she got up. She was about to be lousy companyand it was best if she did it on her own. Her boys and girls had enough crap in their lives these days; they didn’t need her dragging them down any.

Sorry guys, I’ve got a bunch of sick people that need to be checked on before I crash. Thanks for the food, though. That was the best use of a poodle I’ve ever seen!

They laughed and told her she was welcome back anytime. The doc was always welcome. It almost eased her coming foul mood. Almost. She still managed to find it as she relived watching Chad head into a building while she waited in their pickup truck. It had looked promising. Back then some buildings even had some power; this place was one of them. It had been a gas station over in southern Ohio. He got one shot off with his shotgun, but couldn’t pump it in time to deal with the strong hands of the aliens that grabbed him and…

Dawn stopped and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She hated that memory. Hated it so much it made her weak in the knees every time. She opened her eyes and pushed on, forcing herself to focus. She repeated her mantra in her head, mentally naming off the bones in the human body, starting from the toes. It worked, pushing aside the horrible image slowly.

Doc Vincent!

Dawn stopped, a few feet short of reaching for the door to her camouflaged ambulance. The Colonel had demanded she paint over the highly visible white and red when she found it abandoned at a hospital, but he allowed the red cross on the side. There were still plenty of fishmen and a few other tribes of slave races that had escaped, but mostly they ran into humans and humans knew what the red cross meant.

Doctor, I hear you got some supplies today. Is that right? First Sergeant Brad Kinnison demanded. He’d once been one of the top NCOs the army had to offer. Now he was the guy who made life a royal pain in the ass for most of the camp. Sure, he kept them in shape and alive, she supposed, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure it was a life she wanted.

Yes, Top, she said, turning to address him.

What’d you get? he asked.

Top? I haven’t had a chance to stow it away yet, she said, knowing it was not going to go well for her.

Why the hell not? He barked. Let me see it!

Yes, Sergeant, she said, turning and opening up the back of her ambulance. She hoisted the bag up, barely, and put it on the gurney in the ambulance. He said nothing about the graffiti on the bag, for which she was grateful. She showed him the contents, wondering as he showed particular interest in the vials of anabolics.

I expect a written report of this stuff by morning. You get it stowed and accounted for, got it? he asked her.

Dawn sighed. There went her beauty sleep. Morning? Do you know how late it is?

He leaned in close to her and dropped his voice a few octaves. Doctor Vincent, you joined this convoy, you agreed to follow the chain of command. Just because you’re a medic don’t mean your shit don’t stink, got it?

The hair stood up on the back of Dawn’s neck at his surly tone and the deadly serious look in his eyes. Most of the men in the camp were scruffy or had beards growing. Not the Sarge. Somehow he kept his face clean shaven. It displayed the lean features and sharp angles that at times (like now) could look downright mean. His dark brown hair and almost-black eyes