SNAFU: Heroes: An Anthology of Military Horror

Durbandorf sat at the end of a long road surrounded by forest, a small isolated outpost with a population of just over three hundred in the midst of primeval territory. At least it seemed that way to Cade; the ancient pines looming over the road made it feel more like a rite of passage than a byway that saw regular use.

The feeling hadn’t dissipated when they’d arrived in town, either. In fact, it had gotten worse. The streets were narrow, with barely enough room for the big SUV alone, never mind two vehicles going in opposite directions. The buildings were tucked in close, not only to the edge of the street but to each other as well, giving them a sense of malevolence rather than welcome, as if they were crowding in upon a visitor with claustrophobic abandon.

They’d entered the village less than ten minutes ago and already they had a body to contend with. It wasn’t a good sign, by anyone’s reckoning.

Cade had a hunch things were going to get significantly worse before they got better.

He gently shut the car door behind him and paused to pull his HK Mark 23 from the holster he wore beneath his heavy coat. The .45 caliber pistol had enough stopping power to drop a bear dead in its tracks. Cade really hoped he wasn’t going to need it.

The buildings around them were silent and, for the most part, dark. A few lights shone here and there down the length of the street, but there were far fewer of them than he would have expected. It was only shortly after dinner time; the place should still be humming along like a well-oiled machine instead of being dark and seemingly deserted.

Where was everyone?

Beside him, Riley racked a shell into the Mossberg combat shotgun he was carrying. The sound seemed unusually loud in the surrounding silence. When Cade glanced over, the big master sergeant met his gaze and nodded grimly. Apparently he was feeling the strangeness of the place, too.

Cade stepped forward and the others fell into position behind him, with Riley standing watch at his back and the other two facing outward toward the buildings around them with their HK MP5 submachine guns at the ready.

Wanting to blend in with the populace once they arrived on site, the team had dressed down for the mission, forgoing their usual SWAT-styled uniforms in favor of heavy pea coats worn over jeans and sweaters, the latter big enough to hide the ballistics vests they wore underneath. The swords each man habitually carried, given to them on the night of their investiture into the Order, were still in the vehicle for the time being. They’d retrieve them if and when necessary.

Cade knelt beside the body and knew immediately that the man was dead. The exit wound in the back of the man’s skull was all the proof he needed.

He brushed the snow off the man’s back with one gloved hand, uncovering the fact that, whoever he was, he was clad only in a long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He had no sweater, no coat; nothing to ward off the cold that had settled about the town like a thick winter cloak.

That’s weird. 

Cade didn’t see any tracks to indicate that the man had been dragged to his current position, which made him think that he’d come out into the street of his own accord before being gunned down from close range.

Who comes outside in twenty degree weather in just their shirt sleeves?

Slipping his hands beneath the torso of the corpse, he flipped the body over onto its back, only to jerk back in surprise. The man’s chest was torn open along the sternum, the broken ribs on either side sticking up into the light with casual indifference. The man’s eyes were locked open in death and ice crystals were starting to form over them. Given the fact that it was barely twenty degrees out meant that he couldn’t have been outside too long; maybe a half-hour was Cade’s guess.

“What the hell?” Cade muttered.

The injury to his chest was bad enough, never mind the round bullet hole in the center of the man’s forehead, but the fact that the pavement beneath the body was completely free of blood put the whole thing into the surreal category.

How do you rip open a man’s chest and keep him from bleeding all over the place?

Logical answer?

You don’t.

He was about to start going through the man’s pockets, see if there was anything on his person that might identify who he’d been, when Olsen’s voice interrupted him.

“We’ve got company, boss.”

Both Riley and Cade turned at the sound, then followed their teammate’s pointing figure to where someone was standing in the middle of the street about twenty yards behind them.