WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 208: Survivors (11)

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Two platoons set up security along the eastern riverbank and the northern road. Captain Langford kept the retreat route open with the headquarters platoon. It was the same point where the mobile unit had crossed the river. Meanwhile, Gyeoul scouted far ahead, checking for any other mutant horde approaching. If there were any, he meant to wipe them out before returning. Even a mutant horde would not matter. Not in a fight where there was nothing to protect.

But the mountains and fields under the deepening night were quiet. The wind from the forest carried no stench. Gyeoul went far enough that the town was no longer visible, then crossed the hills and circled counterclockwise for a long while before returning. Within ten kilometers, including his line of sight, there were no notable threats.

Nine people had been rescued alive.

First, they gave everyone plenty of water. Most of them suffered through it. Their throats were dry as sand. A few even vomited. Their stomachs must have cramped.

When they tried to put the exhausted survivors on the horses, the horses hated it. The smell was awful. The urine was one thing, but many of them were blackish from their buttocks down to their legs. None of the company laughed. A few people with weak stomachs gagged despite themselves, but that was all.

“Uh, Lieutenant, I’ll just walk.”

Sergeant Osborne said it in a dejected voice, and Gyeoul answered.

“What are you talking about? You can barely stand. Get on.”

From the saddle, Gyeoul caught Osborne by the back of the neck and pulled them up with ease. Huh? By the time Osborne had time to panic, they were already seated behind him. Xcel stayed calm even with twice the weight.

“Hold on tight.”

Once the horse started moving, Osborne wrapped their arms around Gyeoul’s waist. For someone unused to horses, there was nothing else they could do. Gyeoul could feel the awkwardness. He picked up speed.

Those who could not get on horses were evacuated by vehicle with the support detail. They had to make two trips to carry the bodies. They had enough diesel siphoned from heavy equipment, so a drive of about twenty kilometers was not worth worrying over.

After they returned to the base, food came first. Even at a glance, they looked as if they had gone hungry for days. While they sat at the table trembling, crying, or collapsing face down to sleep only to be caught in nightmares, the CIA agents prepared a thin stew. They used tender meat to shorten the cooking time. With so many ingredients missing, including tomatoes, it was barely an imitation. If taste were the concern, plain grilled meat without even salt would have been better.

But everyone shoveled it down like mad. It did no good to stop them by asking if they wanted to die. Everyone watching was stunned. The officers sent the soldiers out. It was not a sight they needed to see.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

One person stopped eating and lowered their head. The mouth that had been spitting curses kept leaking saliva through clenched teeth. The hand gripping the spoon went white. Tears fell one by one. Around the table, sobbing spread like a contagion. Everyone kept swallowing through their tears. After emptying their bowls, they begged for more.

“They’ll get sick if they eat too much all at once...”

Ensign Barker, wearing an apron, looked troubled. In the end, Barker still gave them a little more at a time, pleading with them to eat slowly. Captain Langford, watching from where he leaned against the wall, rubbed the crown of his head. He was worried, and he clearly had many questions. But this was not the time.

After the meal, they had them shower with hot water. Since leaving them alone one at a time was dangerous, each was assigned a watcher of at least Sergeant rank. Gyeoul took charge of Osborne. The Captain warned him.

“Be careful that your firearm is not taken from you under any circumstances.”

It was the warning of a commander who had seen many accidents caused by post-traumatic stress disorder.

Intermittent crying continued even as they washed. Their bodies were filthier than their clothes, so it took a long time. The relief of hot water mattered too. Watching them was not easy. There was a chance they might hurt themselves. They had removed the razors from every bathroom just in case, but if someone made up their mind, there were all kinds of ways to die.

From downstairs came the quiet sound of a washing machine running. They had already run it once during the meal, but the smell and stains had not come out, so they had set the timer to maximum and were running it again. It was fortunate that the laundry room even had a dryer. They needed coins, which meant searching the soldiers’ pockets.

The combat boots were soaked for half an hour in water diluted with bleach. After that, they poured strong liquor into them and shook them hard. There was more than enough cheap gin for that. Even after pouring it out, they had to rinse the boots several more times with clean water before spreading them around the fireplace.

After the shower, they put the nine cleaned-up enlisted soldiers together in a bedroom. They looked awkward in temporary civilian clothes, shuffling along in slippers.

“I hate the dark... May I sleep with the lights on?”

Gyeoul nodded to the anxious person who asked.

“You don’t need permission for that. We’ve blocked the windows, so it’s fine.”

They lay down on the beds with expressions of disbelief. How long had it been since they had slept somewhere soft and warm?

The situation finally stood down, and Baker Company’s troops were also given time to rest, but Captain Langford put more people than usual on night watch. He also ordered them to check on the rescued personnel frequently.

Only Sergeant Osborne was called out for a moment. It was unfortunate, but higher rank came with greater responsibility. Captain Langford gathered the commanders and said to Osborne,

“I’m sorry to interrupt your rest. I’d like to let you sleep, but before that, I think there are a few things I need to confirm. I promise to make this as quick as I can.”

“No, sir. Thank you for rescuing us. Please ask anything.”

“First, sit down. You must be exhausted. Would you like a drink?”

Osborne hesitated, then said they would. Ensign Escamilla brought a glass with ice. The Captain poured the liquor himself. The scent of charred oak hung thick around the amber glass.

“First, what unit are you with?”

“Alpha Company, 1st Combined Combat Battalion, 30th Armored Regimental Combat Team.”

Gyeoul had been mistaken when he thought the unit patch resembled an iron bridge. The red background, the blue circle, and the ladder shape inscribed in the circle were actually the letters O and H, with the crossbar in the middle transformed into a rectangle. They were the initials of Old Hickory, the regimental combat team’s nickname. Gyeoul had thought the XXX filling the rectangle was a long bridge structure, but it represented 30 in Roman numerals.

It was a bewildering answer. Captain Langford swept back his hair.

“I don’t know the details, but that doesn’t sound like a unit that was around San Francisco.”

“San Francisco, sir? What do you mean...? The recapture operation never advanced that far, did it? We were deployed between Stockton and Tracy, south of Sacramento.”

They were confused by each other. Osborne did not know the U.S. military had a bridgehead in the San Francisco Bay Area, and Captain Langford was startled that personnel from a unit participating in Manifest Liberation had come all the way here, more than a hundred kilometers west of their operational area.

“Stockton? Are you joking?”

“Why would I lie, sir? Headquarters was at the metropolitan airport south of Stockton’s urban area, and our battalion’s mission was to defend the San Joaquin Depot farther south. We conducted mobile defense across the western plains.”

It was specific. Even Yuba City, where the company was headed, actually had its garrison at Beale Air Force Base, a little away from the city. Occupying a major city was not easy.

“Ha...”

Captain Langford looked once around at the other officers, paused, then asked again with difficulty.

“This is a cruel question, but what happened to your unit? How did you end up all the way here?”

“It seems you don’t know much about the state of the front.”

“We were deployed at Fort Baker, the San Francisco landing bridgehead. That base collapsed five days ago. To be honest, even before that, information about what was happening in areas cut off from supplies was not spreading well. Maybe it was a measure to preserve morale, or maybe the higher-ups didn’t have a grasp on it either... So tell us as much as you can.”

“...Damn it. I don’t know where to start.”

Osborne sighed and tilted the glass. After swallowing a mouthful, they grimaced.

“After supplies were cut off, the mutant bastards started harassing us more often. They kept coming not only from the cities, but from forests and mountainous areas too. It wasn’t a full-scale attack, but it was just enough that we couldn’t ignore it each time.”

People had long suspected that mutants, especially Tricksters, understood the concept of supply and were deliberately making troops waste ammunition while preserving the numbers of their own groups. That was why people had said not to abandon functioning vehicles carelessly. The mutants might see that and realize there was a fuel shortage. But there probably had been no way to avoid abandoning them.

“Retreat was hard too. They said if we abandoned that place, the forces in central California would starve to death... They said we had to hold until the withdrawing units could receive supplies.”

The Captain nodded heavily. If fuel and transport vehicles were lacking, and many units had to move on foot, it made sense.

Gyeoul, who had plenty of experience searching for military bases in a ruined world, also knew the supply base in Stockton. He had visited it several times even when he was attached to the Logistics Bureau. Nominally, it was one base, but it was divided between two cities. The Tracy side was larger.

“Before we ran out of ammunition, we decided to set a trap.”

Osborne shuddered.

“It was an operation where we deliberately showed weakness to lure them into attacking. They said if we hit them hard once, they’d stop loitering around. We were already close to having to abandon the infantry fighting vehicles, the Bradleys, so everyone thought we had no choice.”

At that moment, a terrible scream came from outside. Everyone except Gyeoul jumped. After a brief commotion as they tried to understand the situation, Ensign Ruben Pennington, who was on duty outside, relayed the night watch’s report.

[It’s a seizure from one of the sleeping personnel. I’ll calm them down on my end. You don’t need to worry.]

Langford sank back down after receiving the radio message. Several sighs of relief slipped out.

After silence fell, Langford urged Osborne to continue.

“So, what happened?”

“It was a mistake. A number beyond imagination came flooding in. Originally, the artillery and air force were supposed to handle all of them, but those idiots... Sorry, sir. Anyway, the range and scale were absurd. When the defensive line was breached, it seems the battalion requested Broken Arrow. Bombs came pouring down over our heads.”

Osborne drained the glass. Broken Arrow meant firing into one’s own position. It was the final request to pour every available bomb and shell onto your location, because you would die together with the enemy. It was done when withdrawal was judged impossible, or when the front line had to be held even in death.

The Sergeant wiped reddened eyes. Perhaps because their body was so weakened, a single drink seemed enough to affect them.

“I barely got out of an overturned armored vehicle, and there was nothing left around me. Monsters were running straight at me from the distance. The company commander gathered the survivors, but the path back to the base was blocked. We just ran in whatever direction had fewer mutants, and before we knew it, everyone had scattered. I don’t really know how I ended up here. No, to be honest, I don’t even know where here is.”

Gyeoul asked Captain Langford for permission and spoke.

“Osborne. This is a village called Olema. It’s about thirty-five kilometers northwest of Golden Gate. That’s why everyone is surprised.”

“We really came a long way.”

Even Osborne seemed dumbfounded. They must have come through mountains with no roads. Otherwise, it made no sense that they did not even know their approximate location.

If they had seen even a road sign, they couldn’t have missed it.

Gyeoul guessed that their journey had been even more painful than expected.

“Do you know where your company scattered?”

“I’m sorry. All I know is that it was some ranch... We were attacked at night. After that, we kept getting chased. By the same bastards you killed off today, Lieutenant.”

“Then did you see any traces of other troops? I’m asking whether units besides yours fled in this direction.”

At that, the Sergeant’s expression darkened further.

“We never ran into any directly, but we heard gunfire several times on the way here. There must be others besides us.”

Osborne added that from yesterday to today, they had been too busy being chased to think straight.

Gyeoul judged that the journey to Yuba City had become a little harder. If they found traces of survivors, it would be difficult to ignore them and pass by. How large would their numbers be?

Captain Langford seemed to have the same worry. He sighed and swept back his hair.

“Let’s stop here for now. It doesn’t feel right to drag this out any longer with someone who looks like they might die. I understand the situation well enough, and asking anything else won’t change anything right now. Everyone, go rest. We’ll discuss this again after sunrise.”

In the end, what the Captain had wanted to confirm was whether other survivors existed nearby.

============================ Author’s Note ============================

#KakaoTalk - Morning Call

Tunguska: When you really don’t want to wake up in the morning, if you set your alarm for 30 minutes later and go back to sleep,

Tunguska: The alarm goes off in your dream, and you wake up.

Tunguska: In reality, only like 5 minutes passed...

Office worker friend: ........

Comic artist friend & Programmer friend: Lolololololololololol

#Q&A

Q. Reynesis: @They met survivors, but they really are defeated soldiers who went through hell... They need to get ammunition supplies somehow... By the way, do most American supermarkets sell ammunition?

A. Some do. Places like Walmart have separate firearm sections inside the store. Other than that, dedicated gun shops are rarer than you might expect.

Q. Illuina: I bought the book... When does Volume 2 come out?

A. I hear the physical books are released on a roughly two-and-a-half-month cycle.

Footnotes:

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