Blue Plague: Sacrifice, page 1
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, objects, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No blues, animals or idiots were harmed during the writing of this book. (I’m serious none where.)
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Printed in the USA
Acknowledgement
Hello once again. I can’t believe that Blue Plague has sold over 10,000 books. I can remember sitting down and telling my wife I wanted to write and she said ‘go for it’. The first draft of the Blue Plague my wife told me I had to make some changes. The first dealt with Debbie.
In the original script, Debbie didn’t try to arrange for Bruce to have someone in his life if her vision became true. My wife said that was horse crap. (She did use another word.) She said, “If a woman has been married that long and has that much invested in her man. Be damn, if she is going to let him hook up with some cheap whore. She would pick a partner out for him, that she approved of.” As she continued the rant I had to admit, ‘Damn that is a good storyline.’ (After seeing what some of our divorced friends hooked up with, I really couldn’t argue.) So the trio was born.
Like I’ve said before, you can’t write a book alone and without my family it would be impossible. As many that follow Blue Plague on FB have heard, Blue Plague was originally a six book series. There was no ‘Sacrifice.’ Survival was over four hundred thousand words. Well, when my wife saw that, she looked at me like I was insane. “Make it two books,” she said and ‘Sacrifice’ was born. (She wouldn’t even sit down to read it until I did that. She hates really long books.)
If you are wondering, yes. The series is finished but it takes me several months just to get the rough version ready to publish. I have to say thank you dad. Larry Watson, my dad, is an avid reader and an English guru. He does my first edit then I send it off to the people who bleed red on my work. Without him I think they would pass out from the grammar.
Then I come to my friends like Jessica, Veronica and Ashley who I had do my proofreading and edits. To this day, it amazes me I can read what I type and it says what I want it to say. Now when someone else reads it, I always wonder, ‘How did that word drop out of that sentence?’ It’s kind of freaky to be honest, when an editor calls you and ask, “What did you mean on so and so page number?” I open the book read what it says (to me) and the reply, “That’s not what’s typed.”
Those on FB that have been doing my proofreading, I have to say thank you and you need to contact my dad and start an editing business. Are there mistakes in this one? Yes. Three editors, eleven proofreaders and I have still found little mistakes. (My most notorious is: form instead of from. I swear I hit ‘r’ before ‘o’.) Do I fix all mistakes found by the editors? No. I’m sorry but the correct grammar to me in some instances ruins what I’m trying to say. These mistakes are left in and most deal with commas. Sometimes I really don’t like that punctuation mark.
It felt really good to sit back down with Bruce and gang after starting my other books. They seemed like old friends who I hadn’t been with in a while. This series will always hold a special place for me, it’s my first.
Also, I did lighten up on the guns. (Sorry guys, a lot of the girls said it distracted them. Just to clarify, it wasn’t my wife.) I just give the basic info now but I refuse to write, “They grabbed some
guns.” Without ever explaining what type and I have to tell about modifications since some aren’t legal. (Just a little spice for the ATF.)
To my family and friends, I have to say thank you for supporting me.
To those in the service, holding the line, my brothers and sisters: God Bless you and I pray you all return home safe.
It is now my pleasure to say, here is Blue Plague Sacrifice. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
Feeling the room spinning, Bruce slowly woke up and opened his eyes. That only proved that the room really was spinning. Closing his eyes, Bruce tried to convince himself that the room was not spinning but that didn’t work. Bruce sat up, which only changed the rotational direction of the room as he fought off a wave of nausea.
Looking around, he saw the family spread out in the den and game room, laying everywhere. Buffy, PJ, and the twins were sound asleep in between him and Debbie. Closing his eyes, Bruce tried to remember when they showed up but his brain refused to work right now. Bruce stood up, trying not to step on anyone and headed into the kitchen.
Bruce ran to the sink, put his head under the faucet and turned on the cold water. Letting the water run over his shaved head, he cupped his hand under his mouth and started drinking some water. After ten minutes of partial submersion, Bruce felt better. Standing up and letting the water run down his torso, Bruce looked at his watch, reading 0420 and it was Monday.
Well, two more days until the kids got married. The thought almost made him cry again, but Bruce pushed it out of his mind. Bruce tried to remember what was on the agenda today, but his brain was still on strike and gave no hints when it would start working again. Giving up, he headed upstairs to shower and change.
After his shower, Bruce headed back down to the den and woke Mike up. “Mike, it’s time to get up,” Bruce said, shaking him.
Mike grumbled as he slowly sat up, blinking his eyes to make Bruce stay still in his vision. “Dude, I feel like hammered shit,” Mike said.
“Well, if it’s any consolation you don’t look like it,” Bruce replied.
Mike just stared at Bruce before replying, “Not funny, Bruce. I can hear and feel the rotation of the earth.”
“Come on brother, we have work to do,” Bruce told him.
“What do we have to do today?” Mike asked trying to fire up his brain to remember.
“I don’t know, but there is something for us to do,” Bruce admitted.
“If I shoot myself in the foot, can I have today off?” Mike asked rubbing his temples.
“Hell no! I thought you were a tough Marine?” Bruce barked.
Mike looked up at Bruce, “Unlike you Ranger boys, Marines have enough intelligence to go back to sleep.”
Bruce laughed, “Go put on your dress. I’m heading to the hall to get some coffee.”
The thought of coffee sounded appealing to Mike as he answered, “Be there in a minute.”
Bruce left Mike to his misery as he headed to the hall. Stepping inside, Bruce could hear the kitchen staff cooking as he went straight to the coffee pots. Grabbing a cup, he thought about telling the kitchen staff to keep it down. Figuring that would make him look like a sissy, he walked toward the family or command table to his spot. Bruce slammed the cup of coffee down his throat as Millie came over with the mug from hell.
Bruce looked up at her, “Thank you Millie. I know when I drink the mug from hell; I won’t be sleepy for two days.”
Millie just waved at him as she sat the cup down, “Bruce, after seein’ how much ya drank yesterday, I’m surprised you can walk. I can fix ya some tea to sober ya up right quick,” Millie offered.
“No thank you, Millie. I’m good,” Bruce replied, not wanting anything to do with medicinal tea. Bruce lifted up the huge mug, taking a long sip.
Millie looked at Bruce and changed the subject, “Bruce, they be some in this new group that’s gonna be problems. The main one be Jenny Green, but she be havin’ several friends. To say they trouble is like saying shit stinks. They’s complaining about kids with weapons and how everyone has ta train to fight.”
“Thank you Millie. I’ll take care of it,” Bruce promised, not in the mood for more problems.
Millie kissed him on top of his shaved head, “Congratulations, Bruce, on your kid’s marriage announcement. Just ta let you knowd, I cried for two days when my last two got married.”
Bruce just nodded his head as Millie headed back to the kitchen. Bruce just stared at his coffee until Mike came in, letting the door slam shut. Mike staggered in heading for the coffee like a man on a mission. Before Mike could pour a cup Millie came out of the kitchen handing Mike his mug from hell. Millie kissed him on the cheek and headed back to finish breakfast. Mike wobbled to the table and sat down sipping his coffee.
Bruce looked up at Mike, “Brother, I feel older than dirt today.”
“I know, same here,” Mike replied.
They sat drinking coffee as the rest of the farm came in for breakfast. By 0615, everyone was at the table, even if they didn’t want to be there. Danny looked up at Debbie, who like her, did not feel worth a crap. “Mom, why the hell do people drink if they feel like this the next morning?” Danny asked, thinking that humans were stupid.
“Baby, it just seems like a good idea at the time,” Debbie answered honestly. Danny groaned, laying her head on the table.
Bruce smiled at her as he looked at Paul down the table. “Paul, what’s on the agenda today?” Bruce asked.
Paul looked at Bruce replying, “All the storage areas are done. Now we have to move the mountains of stuff inside. It’s going to be close but I think we have enough room now.”
“Eighty, forty-two foot containers and an eighty thousand square foot storage area? I hope so,” Bruce answered as Millie started putting plates on the table.
“Those containers we turned into underground storage will give us over eighty thousand ‘cubic feet’ of storage per site. Then with the eighty thousand square foot main underground storage area, that alone will give us just under a million cubic feet of storage. But we are talking over twenty thousand tons to store. We rearranged the main storage area yesterday, freeing up a lot of area but like I said, it’s going to be close,” Paul told Bruce. He did not believe what he said, and was still trying to convince himself. Bruce just nodded as he fed PJ.
Father Thomas walked over to the table as Bruce was fighting with PJ trying to make him eat cantaloupe and losing. Bruce looked up as Father Thomas stopped beside him laughing, “I think he’s going to win Bruce.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Bruce said, putting a little piece in PJ’s mouth and holding it closed. PJ tried to fight but swallowed the food then slapped Bruce.
Laughing, Father Thomas replied, “Glad I didn’t bet.” Then he continued, “Bruce, I didn’t want to interrupt the celebration yesterday but can I talk to the young couples today?”
“Sure thing father. How about after breakfast?” Bruce answered then added, “I don’t know how receptive they will be, but go ahead.” Father Thomas went to the couples and asked them to meet him in the game room after breakfast.
The family ate then headed out to face the day. The temperature had warmed up to the fifties, which, which for Louisiana was cold, but nothing like the last week and a half. Most of the three hundred plus of the clan were moving supplies. Two work crews were starting on two more barracks. Everyone had an assigned area to sleep, but the way survivors were being added, they wanted to be ready for the next group. By noon, everyone who had tossed a few down in celebration felt a lot better as they gathered for lunch.
After lunch, Bruce joined in again on moving supplies to the underground areas. Stopping for a minute, Bruce watched the activity around him. Tired, he smiled, watching everyone move with a purpose to help the clan.
Sharp vivid images of the gang members’ torture session weeks ago suddenly filled his mind. Bruce tried to block them, but they just became more intense. Nausea and disgust washed over his body as he felt the sorrow and pain of the sniper on the table, driving Bruce to his knees. Unable to stop it, Bruce threw up his lunch, hearing the screams in his mind. Trying to rationalize the need for it to himself, another wave of nausea swept over him, making him throw up again. Controlling his breathing, Bruce filled his mind of images of his family in times of joy. The torture session slowly left his mind’s eye as Bruce kept his breathing steady.
Walking by, Mike saw Bruce on his knees throwing up and headed over to him, smiling, “Glad to know you’re human. I threw up after breakfast.” Bruce didn’t hear what Mike said as he sat on all fours, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. Mike patted Bruce on his back and repeated what he said.
Bruce wiped his mouth and looked up at Mike, “Yeah, I’ve been fighting it all day.”
When Mike saw Bruce’s face, his smile vanished. There was a hollow look on Bruce’s face. Then the look just vanished when Bruce spoke. “Something else wrong brother?” Mike asked.
“No. Too much to drink for this old man,” Bruce said, getting up heading back to work. Mike just watched Bruce walk away, unconvinced.
Bruce walked over, grabbed a pile of clothes and headed back to the storage area. Bruce could usually tell when the ‘mental trips to hell’ were coming on but this was the third time that they had just hit him like a ton of bricks. The nightmares were sure to start soon. Bruce knew this from past experience and he was not ready for them. It felt like part of him wanted to just start hating so the damn things would stop, but he couldn’t do that. His family was more important than he was.
Working and keeping his mind occupied, the images did not bother Bruce the rest of the day. At dusk, Bruce headed to the gym to work off the last of his energy before heading to the hall to eat. When Bruce walked in wearing a tank top carrying his gear in his hands, he saw everyone at the table eating already. Hanging his gear on the wall, he sat down in his seat to a plate waiting on him.
Debbie looked at Bruce and could see something, “What’s wrong baby?” She asked.
“Nothing,” Bruce lied. “Just trying to remind myself I’m not old.”
“Baby, the day you’re old, we’ll all be dead,” Debbie informed him.
Bruce chuckled, replying, “Well, I have to remind myself I’m still tough every now and then.”
Everyone ate and talked around the table. Bruce tried to join in and joke but couldn’t. When the first person stood up to leave, Bruce grabbed the twins and PJ, telling everyone he was going to bed. Bruce headed to the house, showered with the kids and got them ready for bed. Bruce lay down with them, eventually falling asleep.
Tuesday was much better, and he felt like himself again. Bruce worked out twice Tuesday trying to exhaust his body. The dreams found him anyway and they were worse than he remembered.
Chapter 2
Bruce woke up in a cold sweat on Wednesday morning at 0210. Bruce fought to control the nausea until he reached the bathroom. Moving slowly out of bed so he wouldn’t wake the others, Bruce ran to the bathroom and closed the bathroom door. Bruce threw up in the toilet and when he finished, he stood up, looking in the mirror. He was pale and covered in sweat. Leaning on the sink, Bruce just stared at his reflection.
“It had to be done, so get over it. I’ve handled this before, so forget it. You will not wallow in hate. The family is important, not you,” Bruce said to his reflection in the mirror. Bruce turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face. A hand touched Bruce’s back, almost making him run through the wall as he let out a yelp. “Are you ok Bruce?” he heard behind him.
Turning around, he saw Angela standing in the doorway. When Bruce’s heart rate came down he said, “Angela, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll flush you down the toilet.”
“I heard you throwing up,” Angela responded.
“Just nerves. My babies are getting married today,” Bruce replied with some truth.
“They make really good couples Bruce. I know they’ll be happy,” Angela said, trying to reassure him.
“I know, Little Foot, now go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute,” Bruce lied.
Angela left Bruce as he jumped in the shower. Finished with his shower, Bruce went into the bedroom. Seeing everyone asleep, he got his clothes and gear and headed to the gym. After his work out, Bruce went to mission control to check on the farm and then he headed to the new barracks. The night crews were working under lights, smoothing out the concrete. Bruce walked over to the fence line and up on the berm, looking out over the land.
Today, he would lose his babies, but he knew they would be happy and that’s all that mattered to him. Mindy and David were getting married first, followed by Danny and Matt. Jake and Mary were going to be the last. The families would just keep switching sides at the altar.
Mary was mad at first when she realized that she would not be there to see the others get married. Jake and Matt fixed the problem by putting in a video feed so she could watch from the house.
Bruce smiled, remembering his conversation with Debbie when Steve got married. The kids were going to be married in ACUs and armed. Bruce knew this made Matt one happy young man. Bruce wished more than anything that they could do a real wedding but it would not look right in front of the clan. They were all one and the same, so the decision was made by the couples that they, like Steve and Tonya, would get married ready for combat.
It was 0530 when Bruce headed toward the hall, only to find Mike already there drinking his coffee. Bruce went up to the front of the hall as Millie handed him his mug. Bruce headed to the table and sat down.
Mike spoke when he sat down, “Couldn’t sleep huh?”
“No, so I worked out,” Bruce said, getting comfortable in his chair.
Mike looked at Bruce with a serious expression, “Bruce, I want to tell you thank you.”
Bruce gave Mike a questioning stare, “What for?”
“If I hadn’t met you, my family would probably be dead. Instead, I get to see them married and happy,” Mike replied. Bruce just blew Mike off. Mike just looked at him, replying, “I’m serious brother. How many other families can say they’ve survived this intact? If it wasn’t for you, I know I couldn’t say it. When you and Debbie asked us to move in with you, we thought you two had lost your minds. I know people used to live several families to a household, but not now. I have never told you this, but we almost said no. Nancy and I thought it would not work out, but on the trip out here, we decided what the hell, let’s try it at least.”
