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Chronicles of Corporal Wilkens: Part Two: Med Supplies, Bums and a Plan
Posted By: Major Silva<majorsilva@aol.com>
Date: 9 September 2005, 8:06 pm
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Deployment +06 hours: 08 minutes: 37 seconds ( Corporal Wilkens Mission Clock )/
City Block Designation 003-009, New Mombasa, Earth
It was late afternoon, and Corporal Richard Wilkens woke up to a lot of pain. His arm felt like someone had shoved a combat knife clear through it, and out the other side.
He had to get something for the pain. It would slow him down.
Wilkens went back to the abandoned offices' medical closet, and scoured through everything. There were no intravenous pain medications, not even a little bio-foam. It seems some bum had went through the place, and taken all the medical supplies, or the evacuees had simply taken most of the supplies when they left. Either way, he was only left with a few over-the-counter pain pills. He downed them in one gulp, and cringed at their bitter taste.
The Corporal went down a few flights of stairs, and eventually found the building's "commissary", or what passed as one, and looked around at the devastation. It was a small place - only a few vending machines, but that wasn't the problem. They were all smashed open, and a mixture of glass and plastic littered the floor. There was nothing left. His suspicions about a bunch of looters was confirmed. The evacuees wouldn't have taken the time to raid a couple of vending machines, their main goal would've been to get to the bomb shelters, scattered throughout ever city on Earth, he figured.
'So', he thought, 'food will be a problem'. All he had left was two MREs, or Meals Ready to Eat, and his canteen of water. Even that was only half full. Luckily, the building's water supply hadn't been shut off, so he re-filled the canteen with water from one of the water fountains scattered throughout the building. Hopefully it would be enough to last before he made it back to base, and some nice, Navy nurses.
He staggered back up the many flights of stairs towards the roof, passing knocked over computer monitors, broken glass, and then . . .a body. He quickly pulled out his side arm, an M6C pistol, a stripped down version of the M6D. Wilkens clicked the safety off and cocked the gun, putting a round in the chamber. Luckily, it hadn't been lost when he took the tumble that had broke his arm, as his Battle Rifle had. The looters he had suspected of must've been through here, or they were still here. Wilkens turned on his gun flashlight, a modification he had made himself, and crept through the darkened room. It was easily 50 yards length wise. Richard put his back against a wall, and was careful not to get near the dark cubicles.
"Hello?" he shouted, but received no response.
Suddenly, shadows moved on shadows on the opposite side of the room, and he fired three shots, in quick succession, but they all missed, as the black figure ran. He decided to try again, "Hello!" he shouted again, more like a demand for a response this time in place of a question.
This time, the figure answered, but not in words, but in a charge. It was quite obvious it was a homeless person, with his rags as clothes, and his dirty face. He carried a two by four, which he swung visciously at Wilken's head, but he ducked, and the man missed. The Corporal had had enough, and fired a quartet of shots into the center of the figure, and saw it go down. But that's when the rest jumped him. There were four more, and they all had various blunt weapons; a wooden chair leg, a pipe, another two by four, and a fist - sized rock. Wilkens didn't have enough time to reload, and the men were charging from all sides, so he did all that he could do, he fired his last five rounds in his pistol into the figure to his right. Now he had a way to escape the marauding men. He dashed to his right, and reached for a second clip, and jettisoned the other one. The magazine hit home just in time, as the last three men sprinted for his position.
He spun on his heel, brought his gun to bear as best he could with one hand, and six successive shots rang out, and three bodies fell. Wilkens slumped down the wall. His arm hurt like hell. He must've bumped it on something in all the excitement. He grunted in pain, but decided it would be best to get to the roof, in case there were any more looters.
Corporal Wilkens staggered back to the stairway, past the beaten-to-death body he had found earlier, and up the stairs he went.
They went on for ever. Or so it seemed to him in his injured and fatigued state, but finally he reached the door to the roof. It was locked.
Wilkens unstrapped his M6C, took a step back, and fired the last six shots in the chamber around the doorknob. He kicked the knob with all his remaining strength, and it flew out the opposite side. Richard reloaded his pistol once again with one hand, and pushed the loose door open with his shoulder. No contact. 'Thank God', he thought, as he looked out onto the vast city. It was amazing to look at. The sun was just begining to wane, and he wondered what time it was. His watch had been broken when he fell, so he had no way of knowing the exact time. But he guessed it was around 1400 hours - two o' clock civilian time.
He holstered his pistol and went to the side of the building. He tried to eye anything that might be helpful. Wilkens spied dozens of Covenant soldiers moving into the city from various places. 'Stinking bastards', he thought. This city, no, this planet would not fall to the Covenant. There was no way that would happen. Not on his watch, he said as he eyed a Covenant capital ship hovering in the distance, with a grav lift leading to the surface and spilling out troops and vehicles like evil seeds being planted.
They would be made to pay. One way or another. He would make sure of it.
Just before he had been deployed into this sector, he had heard rumors on his Pelican ride down that a certain 'Master Chief' was also being deployed via the In Amber Clad to this section of the city also. Supposedly it was the last Spartan super-soldier. He had dismissed the rumor as little more than a tall tale to get the troops' morale up. But just then, he spied a Pelican dropship lifting off to the east. Wilkens took out his minocular and spied the Pelican's service number on the side, it read,
DF- IAC: Alpha- 342
He assumed the "IAC" part meant it was most likely from the ship that those initials matched, the In Amber Clad. Seeing as how all the other Pelicans on Earth were almost exclusively from the ground forces, this seemed the likely explanation. If that Pelican had just deployed fresh troops, perhaps he could hook up with them and get some evac. Richard estimated it was less than half a click away from him. Of course, he had to factor in the inevitable Covenant forces in the area, but he may be able to avoid most of them with a little stealth work. He cursed under his breath, this would be a whole lot easier if his radio wasn't integrated into his helmet via a boom mike, which he had lost in the fight in the drug store.
Wilkens decided to head toward the dropship's dropzone, and wrapped his arm even tighter with more gauze when he got back down the stairs to the main floor where the medical cabinet was. This was going to be many things, but it wasn't going to be easy.
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