Checkpoint

introducing some of the Marines working as Civil Guards, good and bad.

Chapter Two: Checkpoint

 

    The sun rose seemingly slower than usual on a mid summer Wednesday morning. Rays of ostentatious sunbeams shone across the depressingly ragged and rundown city of Los Angeles. Even the once extravagant areas such as Beverly Hills have long since been demolished to make way for last ditch irrigation systems and reservoirs. Makeshift aqueducts made of used tires and PVC, constructed mostly by civilians, ran in various directions across the barren, urban landscape. The echo of a military issue assault rifle rang across the city.

    Lance Corporal Stanley Thorenson let off another three shot burst from his HK 416, remaining in his seat on the left backseat of the Humvee that sat stationary at it’s checkpoint. “Target neutralized.” he said blandly. No emotion shone through his hardened resolve. It wasn’t the first 14 year old he had killed. There was something they didn’t seem to understand about zero tolerence hours.

    “Mother fuckers just don’t seem to get what happens when they’re out between 8 pm and 6 am.” Thomas Annler said, leaning on his 50 cal machine gun, mounted through the top of the vehicle. He squinted in the harsh sunlight.

    Stanley Thorenson snorted and smiled a little. His thumb flicked the HK 416 to semi-automatic as he looked through the ACOG scope of his rifle. He let off a single shot that landed square between the shoulders of a desperately fleeing civilian. He looked up from his scope and blocked the sun with his hand, “They’ll learn.” He said, looking up over his shoulder to Annler and snickering.

    Thomas shook his head back and forth, “shame,” he said, letting out a slight chuckle, “that one looked like she gave good p***y.”

    “F*****g necrophilia psycho.” he said jokingly.

    “Well we both enjoy smokin’ mother f****r civilians all day. You know the great thing?” Annler said, rasing his voice a little towards the end of the sentance.
    “No. What exactly?” said Thomas, still peering through his ACOG, searching with horrible content for another wandering civilian.

    “We can make up,” he said, throwing his hand out to the sides, “whatever we want about how the son of a b***h posed a ‘threat’ and they don’t f*****g give s**t.” he laughed.

    “Dude, you’re one sick son of a b***h.” he said flatly and expressionlessly.

    “You’re both f*****g nuts. Let daddy catch some sleep before we go on patrol, please?” The driver, John Sanders, said sarcastically.

    “Oh so sorry, father.”  Thorenson replied in an equally sarcastic tone.

    They sat silent in the vehicle for several minutes longer, watching the day slowly grow brighter and brighter as it the clock ticked slowly past 6 am. A slight beeping indicator rang, alerting the team that the curfew hours had ended.

    Thomas inhaled and blinked, lifting his head from his scope and looking around. He threw his neck side to side to stretch it. He yawned casually, “hey dude,” he said, addressing Stanley, “ya’ ever wonder if a guys head explodes any different than a b*****s?” Thomas stretched his fingers to mime some an explosion with his hand.

    “As team leader,” Jacob Morris said from the passenger seat, “I order you to promptly and without question, shut the f**k up.” He gave a wide grin and a halfhearted glance over his shoulder to the rear of the humvee.

    Sanders sat back up in the drivers seat an removed his feet from their crossed position, sticking out the drivers side window. He smiled and spoke. “Alright let’s get this f****n’ freak show on the road.”

    Daniel Vasquez remained silent and straight faced in the right hand backseat of the humvee. He thoroughly  hated his team vehicles team members. He was appalled by their disgusting behavior. When he signed up he was under the impression he would be helping to protects civilians by eliminating real threats, not simply rolling around east L.A. shooting at anything that moved with the virtually no discrimination.

    “This s**t so beats shipping out to f*****g Iran. Who knew...” Thomas said, giggling a bit like a school girl.

    “Ooh-rah.” Team leader, Jacob, added.
    The humvee began to move, followed by three others of similar nature.

    Corporal James Errardi gnawed his teeth in frustration as the convey rolled off. “F*****g disgrace to the core,” he said, violently shaking his head and looking at several Privates who helped him manage the vehicle checkpoint. “We actually want to do good, meanwhile these mother fuckers signed up for Civil Guard duty to serve out another 4 years in the marine core, but only to kill civilians, rather than properly do their job. Instead they do the exact opposite of our f*****g job,” he said, looking at the silent troops who stood next to him. “The worst part is that what their doing is perfectly acceptable by law.”

    “Agreed, Sir.” one of them spoke.

Author's Note

tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Dani California]

I'm sick. This is truly a movie ... make it a screenplay Dillon. Really!
It's brutal... and will go over well. What does that say? lol

It's so hard for me to comprehend that there are really people out
there like this. Cold with no conscience. :(

Anyway, enough of my emotional carrying ons... make it a movie... I repeat! lol

You're an outstanding writer. Indeed..

[Nely Amorim]

truly vivid and not outside the concept of a possibly futuristic reality if we continue the way we're going as a society. A real eye-opened and scary as hell. excellent 2nd chapter.