The Call of Man

David and Adriana attend school while tensions finally reach a breaking point at their home on the east side of L.A. and conflict ensues.

    Chapter Five: The Call of Man

 

    David’s mind wandered in radical directions. Skipping and hopping through the vastness of it’s own existence. He starred off into nothingness and thought; that’s all, just thought.
    An inaudible noise bumbled passed his ear and momentarily stopped and thought of popping in to say hello, but could clearly tell that David was very busy with something or another and decided to move on.
    After several more moments of intrepid thought, the noise returned for a second go around, this time like an approaching train, the noise seeming to get louder and louder, “...David Stratford...” it said as it passed, then growing slower and slower... It came again, and again...

    “Stratford? David Stratford?” the teacher paused, then went to his clipboard and made a mark.

    “Huh?” David’s head shot up, he licked his lips and blinked a lot, “yeah,” he said, yawning, “I’m here.”

    Mr. Rose’s temples flared a bit. He flipped his pencil around and erased the mark he had made. “Kyle Sebastian,” he called, never looking up from his clipboard. Kyle confirmed his presence. Mr. Rose nodded and called another name, but once again, David wasn’t listening.

    David had met Kyle Sebastian in the 7th grade and had been good friends ever since. Kyle was 17, fairly dim, and had the natural muscular structure of some sort of Greek god. For a long time now, they had joked that Kyle looked more like he should be painted gold and set on top of a temple in Troy, than smoking pot behind the janitor’s shed in between classes at the highschool. Although he wasn’t very bright, he wasn’t exactly stupid. When posed with a complex and difficult situation he was always able to calmly assess it and make a very educated decision on what to do. He did, however, come across as very, very stupid and irresponsible.
    In fact, in the 8th grade, Kyle’s last words were almost; “Haha... dude, check it out... I’m on fire.” At which point David started dumping beer on Kyle in an attempt to put out the flames, but Kyle punched him in the arm for wasting beer.

    “Adriana Rios,” Mr. Rose continued to call out.

    “Here,” she responded blandly, running her fingers through her hair.  She looked across at the desk next to her, to David. He seemed absent.

●      ●      ●

    “Well that’s the problem,” Jacob said, looking over to the driver of their vehicle. “I believe it was Sigmund Freud who said ‘A man should not strive to eliminate his complexes but to get into accord with them: they are legitimately what directs his conduct in the world.’,”

    “Dude,” John said, “com’n... seriously bro, we thought you were a f****t before,” he said jokingly, “now you’re quoting f****n’ Freud?”

    “My point,” he said, “is that, from my interpretation... it means we should just except who we are and not try to correct it,” he paused, “in our case, we’re sick mother fuckers, who, from outside perspective have got to look like the lowliest pieces of s**t on the face of the Earth.”

    “Suspicious behavior, Two o’clock.” Stanley called out from the back seat.

    The team leader, Jacob, steadied his weapon, looking through the scope at the civilian who seamed to be evading something.

    Driver and RTO, John Sanders, reached for the radio. “CIV Pat.3, this is Forward CIV Pat. 1. Suspicious civilian activity at our 2, requesting permission to engage, how copy?”

    “Solid copy. Uhh... could you describe suspicious behavior?”

    “We have a male individual, appears to be in his mid 20's with his hood up in 100 plus degree heat, he’s walking in an evasive manner away from us while speaking on a cell-phone. Judging by his movements and activities around us, we suspect that he may be involved with anti-guard and resistance groups.”

    “Uh,” he spoke, “okay hold on, let me get back to you on that.”

    The patrol rolled on at a grueling pace for several moments longer. “Forward CIV Pat. 1, this is CIV Pat. 3, how copy?”

    “Solid copy, sir. What’s the news on suspicious activity?”

    “Well, the ROE states insufficient reason for engagement but Lieutenant Person has a requested you conduct a snatch mission before the individual leaves your particular Unit’s AO , how copy?”

    “Solid copy, sir.” John said, he paused then spoke, “CIV Pat. 1, this forward Vehicle, Javelin 2. Snatch mission on suspicious individual has been approved. Convoy will be taking a left, I repeat, Left turn on this next road in pursuit of the hooded, male, civilian.”

    “Anyway,” Jacob said, still looking through his scope, “my point is that no matter what anybody says, we are who we are. The world is a complex place that operates a lot like the Core or the Civil Guard.
Every component and individual has to be active and doing their job for it to function correctly, The world wouldn’t have balance, and therefor would not function, without sick f***s like us.”
    There was a moment of silence in the vehicle as thought pulsed through the teams head as to the possible significance of this statement.

    “Didn’t Freud f**k his mom?” said Stanley.

●      ●      ●

    David’s father peered out the winder, seeing his daughter Caitlin’s car pull up in front of the house. His phone rang from the coffee table in the living room. Daniel rushed through the house to answer. He recognized the number that read across the caller ID.
    He grunted and flipped the phone open. “What is it Anthony?”

    Anthony spoke in a strained tone, “I think they noticed me. I’m right by your house. I’m coming in.”

    “What? No, my daughter just pulled up. My wife’s here, you’re not coming in this f*****g house. Use Franklin’s house, he’s just across the street.”

    “No, man. You don’t understand. They are right behind me... they’re either gonna’ f*****g kill me our snatch me up. I need your house, d****t!” Anthony’s voice was thick with desperation.

    “F**k! Listen I’ll call Franklin and tell him you’re coming in,” Daniel Said, “they’re running searches today anyway... if you disappear into this neighborhood they’re just going to ramp up their search efforts. They’ll tear this f*****g place apart!” Daniel said, parting the blinds and looking down the street. He could see Anthony walking towards him and the convoy turning the corner about 200 meters behind him, “why is your hood up? Are you f*****g retarded, boy?”’

    “What?” Anthony replied dumbly.

    “I can see you. Why are you walking around with your goddamned hood up? Why are you even wearing a jacket? Why the f**k are you even walking around?” Daniel said as his daughter walked in the front door of the house.

    “Hey dad!” she said excitedly. She began to smile, but quickly retracted it, “dad, what’s going on?”

    Daniel pointed to the window, “Alright Anthony, you can come through my house, but through as all you’re doing. In the front door, out the back door, over the f*****g fence, you got me?”

    Caitlin parted the blinds and starred down the street. “Holy f**k. Dad, don’t let the idiot in here.”

    “Who the f**k was that?” Anthony said.

    “My daughter, and she’s right. Still... like I said, in, out, done. Got it?”

    Anthony was clearly displeased, “okay, fine.” he hung up.

    “I’ll be right back,” Caitlin said

    “Where the f**k are you going?” Her father inquired, grabbing her arm.

    “I have a f*****g FN FAL in the trunk of my car! I need to get it before they roll up here.”

    “What the f**k, Caitlin?” her fathers tone was rich with anger, “how did you get that passed the checkpoints?”

    “It’s under the floor panel in the trunk, they didn’t think to check.”

    “Jesus Caitlin how many times do I have to have this conversation with you and your brother?” he asked, “Don’t bring assault rifles, SMG’s, light machine guns or any of that s**t through checkpoints! If you need to bring a f*****g piece then make sure it’s a handgun, and you keep it wedged under the seat. You don’t keep a huge f*****g unruly FAL in the trunk!”

    “Okay, dad! I’m sorry, just let me get it okay?” she said, her eyebrows raised, she stomped her foot a little.
    Her father let her go and she approached the door just as Anthony entered. They bumped shoulders as she exited.

    “Okay, out!” Daniel said, pointing to the back door.
                                           
    Anthony waved hand and rolled his yes, “yeah, yeah.”

    “Don’t think about going next door. David would kill you for hiding at Adriana’s.” Daniel said, walking to Anthony, he jerked his hood violently off of his head, “f*****g idiot. Get out of here.”

    Caitlin entered the house, the FN FAL held flat against her side, under he bag. “Get him out of here,” She said. She parted the blinds again and starred out down the street, bobbing her head, attempting to glimpse the convoy’s movement.

    Daniel picked up his cell phone, pressing a few keys, he held it to his ear and paced back and forth. “John, hey...” he blinked a few times and looked around before hesitantly speaking, “we wont be having you dinner tonight,” He said, waiting for reply, he swallowed and nodded, “Friday then? Okay, sound’s like a plan.” he said, again nodding while listening to John’s reply, “good. And John, um... the hedges in front of your house, they could use some trimming,”  Daniel said, “ok, goodbye,” he snapped the phone shut and slid it into his pocket. “Caitlin, get that hidden right away. Anthony why are you still here?” Caitlin’s father spoke quickly and decisively. “Anna, Caitlin’s here. I need you to take her and yourself out the back of the house right away. Anthony will be with you,” he hollered upstairs.
    Anna began to pack clothing into a backpack, she knew better than to ask questions when Daniel was this serious.

    “Dad, I don’t have to go... you know I could handle this, I’ll be a help.” She said, he voice weak and desiring. “Please?”

    “There’s nothing for you to handle. It’s just in case,” Daniel walked over to the wood dresser that sat across the room, opening the bottom drawer. He reached behind several photo albums and pulled out a black m9a1 handgun. He handed it to Anthony, “take them through yards and parking lots,” he whispered very quietly, “anywhere, just nothing open... keep them hidden, stay away from checkpoints and patrols,”

    “Daddy?” Caitlin said, “dad? Dad, what’s wrong?”

●      ●      ●

    “CIV Pat. 1, this is Javelin 2. Hooded individual has entered a single story residence. House is roughly 200 meters distance,  white with closed blinds, there is a silver vehicle parked in front, how copy?”

    “Javelin 2 this is Javelin 3. Solid copy, we have visual on the residence.”

    “CIV Pat. 3, this is CIV Pat. 1. Hooded individual has been seen entering a residence that lays within our designated AO. What are our orders?” the RTO said, looking up and down the street. He glanced over to the ruble of what had once been a house, remembering when CIV Pat. 2 had called in a cobra strike on the house.

    Silence. There was no response from the radio for several moments. Then a voice crackled through, “CIV Pat. 1, this is CIV Pat. 3. Lieutenant Person has issued orders that you enter the house, forcefully if necessary,   in pursuit of the individual. How copy?”

    John Sanders cast a grin and laughed a little. “Solid copy, sir. Proceeding to residence as we speak. CIV pat. 1, out,” he paused before switching frequencies, “alright boys, lets roll up on this crib. Ooh-rah mother f****r’s.”
    The convoy increased speed as they approached the house.

    Daniel and the rest of the neighborhood recognized their actions. They had seen them before.

    Caitlin and Anna clamored over the backyard fence as fast as they could, other women and small children around the area did so as well. Everything seemed to come alive in a horribly difficult way, and it needed to happen. This wasn’t the first time, and perhaps it wouldn’t the last.
    Someone had lost direction. A small child ran out from the front of a house across from Daniel. A man stood in the door, his mouth formed words, but nobody could make out what they were. He screamed, tears streaming down his face.
    The mother of the child panted and screamed as her feet pounder after the child, she fell and slid on her knees, he arms wrapping around the 6 year old boy. She grimaced and shook her head and the child cried wildly, kicking his arms. As he cried and the mother stood from her bloodied knees.
    The father’s face suddenly contorted and his mouth dropped. Something died behind his eyes as blood spattered across the sidewalk in front of him.
    A bullet struck his wife in the head. The right side of her skull erupting and spitting forth it’s gruesome contents onto the road and sidewalk ahead of her life a disgusting shade of paint on a horrid canvas.
    The father, Cameron, screamed wildly, he struggled to right himself by grabbing the doorframe, but fell to his knees. He heard the ring of three more shots. One struck his wife’s lifeless body in the lower back, the other two through the chest of his child. He gripped the handle of the AK-47 he had hid behind the doorframe.
    The loud cracking and shattering sound of an AK-47 echoed a discomforting feeling around the area. A round struck the driver and RTO, John sanders in the arm, several more in the side of the humvee.
    Stanley aimed his HK-416 at Cameron through the window of the humvee and fired several bursts, all striking in his chest and abdomen. Cameron fell the ground, his AK-47 tumbling in front of him.
    An earth shattering series of booms was audible as Thomas Annler let loose on his 50 cal. Rounds ripped violently through Cameron’s home. Bits of decoration and furniture whisked and tumbled about and the walls creaked. As one of Annler’s bursts ripped into a load bearing wall, the house began to become unstable. A round struck a gas line in the kitchen, forcing gas to erupt into the house, and fire ignited the prevalent gas and the homes windows blew out as the house belched with flames.
    Daniel cocked his daughters FN FAL with a grimace and closed his eyes. He took aim through his window and readied to fire at Thomas Annler. As he peered through the iron-sights, his finger moved to squeeze the trigger, but instead remained stationary as a pinkish red hued mist sprayed from behind the 50 cal operators skull. Daniel could make out even from this distance, the detail of Annler’s eyes seeming to wobble in his skull. Thomas slumped back and his helmet tumbled back off of his head, revealing the large cavity that had been ripped from his skull by the bullet. Daniel recognized the damage as that of a 5.56 round, the same that the guards themselves used, and knew that his neighbor John had taken the shot with his M4.
    Another two shots burst through the windshield of humvee, one coming perilously close to the drivers head, but still missing. The other ripped his ear off. The noise of the round ruptured Sander’s eardrum and disoriented him.
    Daniel let off several rounds from the FN FAL. Three collided with the driver, causing him to swerve the humvee even further than he already was.
    The convoy screeched to a halt after the several seconds that had elapsed between the drivers death and the woman and child being shot.
    The 50 cal. Operator of the vehicle behind Javelin 2 took aim towards the window where Daniel’s neighbor, John, was firing from. Several bursts of fire was all it took to obliterate John.
    Daniel forced himself to ignore this. He fired upon the 50 cal operator, several of the bullets hitting him upper chest and shoulder. He was knocked back just as another round from an AK-47 struck him in the back of the neck. Blood shot forward from his mouth, leaving jagged steaks of crimson across the turret and side of the vehicle. Daniel let off several more bursts which impacted into the side of the vehicle before rounds begin to careen into the room and zip past his head. He retreated from his position near his window and stumbled into his garage. Falling to his knee and grabbing the doorknob to right himself, he saw he had been struck in the leg. Not by a 5.56, they cause massive damage upon entry, he probably  wouldn’t have a leg anymore. Definitely not such a small and neat gunshot wound. It was most likely from one of his neighbors stray rounds, most likely an AK-47.
    Daniel swung open the door to the old car that sat, gathering dust in his garage. It would seem to serve no purpose, but it did have a purpose. It was very important, and it was in the event of this situation. Daniel Grabbed the keys that hung from the rear-view-mirror and started the car. He moved the cinder-block that he had position next to the gas pedal, and placed it over the pedal. The back tires spun widely, and smoke shot and wisped about, clouding the garage. The car lurched forward and broke through the weak garage door. It hurtled forward and collided with the vehicle behind Javelin 2. The explosives that sat hidden in the paneling and framework of the car, suddenly detonated, sending a huge, fiery and billowing column of fire into the air. The humvee it had impacted lifted from the ground and effortlessly tumbled through the air, it’s gas igniting and exploding, killing the Guards in the vehicle. The shockwave knocked several Gaurd’s unconscious and overturned the sideways parked Javelin 2, jarring the 4 surviving individuals inside.
    The fighting had barley been going on for 10 seconds before the 50 caliber machine guns began to rip the homes to shreds. Well placed shots from the Guards killed exposed civilians with ease.
    John Sanders gasped for breath, calling something put across the radio, barely audible through the heavy fire from both sides.
    A guard fled his humvee and ran near their overturned vehicle. A round cut deep through his skull, splattering brain matter and blood across the sideways turned roof of the humvee.
    The vehicle righted itself with its wide spread wheel base, but was too damaged to move forward. The  convey ducked around the wreckage and damaged humvee. Stanley, Jacob and Vasquez climbed out of the vehicle. Ducking to avoid fire, they pulled John sanders profusely bleeding from their vehicle. He coughed blood onto his MOPP suit, dropping his weapon next to him. A vehicle slowed in front of them and they lifted his body through the open door to be received by the two men in the back. The three of them ran forward as fast as they could, hoping into the back of an open top humvee.
    The remnants of the convoy barreled down the street, away from the fight. Civilians from the initial epicenter of the fight began to come out of their ruined homes, firing shots down the street towards the guards who took fire from windows of nearly every home they passed.

    “Mother fuckers!” Daniel screamed at the top of his lungs, firing his last few rounds into the air. Several others did the same. The false sense of victory began to propagate them. But it quickly subsided and a dark feeling of fear and disappointment grew deep within them. A rumble echoed from the sky. An unmistakable rumbled.
    The piercing howl of an F-22 raptor screamed across the sky above their heads. The civilians were vaporized, standing, still frozen in their positions. The wild  explosions of bombs obliterated them with no effort. Houses flattened into dust and cars where pulverized, tossed, and mangled. Nothing was left of the neighborhood but the charred ashes and rubble of homes and the dull remnant of the spirit that had fought there over the strenuously short amount of time in which all this destruction had taken place.
    A desolate wind blew across the equally desolate and ravaged landscape.

Author's Note

tell me what you think. and yes, this is a VERY violent chapter. i realize this.

Reviews

[Sydelle Houston]

I like how you describe scenes, especially the violent ones. Your dialog helps to move the story along, even though I'm not familiar with some of the military jargon. However, I want you to take a few moments and clean up the typos and grammatical errors. A story should flow; a reader should not have to stop and re-read a sentence or a paragraph because of wrong words, making them think, does the writer mean this, or that? Some words will not be caught by your computer's spell check like "starring," even though you mean "staring," starring is spelled correctly, just not the right word in that sentence. Grammar check may question the word but you'll have to whip out a dictionary to make sure of the word you need. Get the story out first and we'll work on the grammar and spelling later.

[Dani California]

OMG! This was quite the onslaught Dillon. Again, your imagery is incredible, though much of this was disturbing, as is the nature of the story. But a good one, nonetheless. Movie material, as I've previously stated. As I was reading, anticipation and tension grew within me, which is a great thing!! Your words brought the story to life. Dialogue -- also excellent. I am really curious to see where this goes.. !

[Nely Amorim]

talk about overkill....wow.. as usual a very descriptive chapter, I'm still waiting to see where the story is going, I presume you have a specific point of reference for all this slaughter and I am looking forward to reading more :) great work.