Nothing went wrong. That was because all the previous inhabitants of the building were dead, most with a gaping wound in their chest. We found the bodies of ten spiders, swollen to nearly the size the scorpion had been. Two of the spiders had long, slender legs and a small, round body. The other eight had a black, segmented thorax and large pincers protruding from the head. Of course, the giveaway was the red hourglass standing out on each spider’s belly like a large warning sign.

To top it off, we found the bodies of three humans. One of them, a woman, lay on the floor, her purple face frozen in a soundless scream. The second body was close by, his chest torn open. The skin on this body was almost completely white. The third body was the same, but the hole in his chest dripped a green liquid.

As we went further into the building, the darkness also grew deeper, only kept at bay by the green light from my chem. The border patrol agents hadn’t taken the harmless piece of equipment, but it would not matter. There was no way the light source would last another hour.

“Another scorpion?” I asked the agent after examining the last body.

“Scorpions will generally kill and eat other scorpions,” the agent said. He took the moment to rest the still-motionless Andy against a wall, sat down next to the special forces operative, clutched his weapon, and caught his breath. “If the other was the same size, they would kill each other sooner than share the territory.”

“And the spiders?”

“Probably the same,” he nodded. “Scorpions prey on spiders.”

“How far to the supply lockup?” I asked.

“End of this hall, turn left, then you’ll see large, metal doors.” He paused for a moment. “Dunno what to do if the doors are locked. They’re built to keep out most anything short of a nuclear detonation.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” I said.

He chuckled wryly. “I think you mean ‘cross that bridge’.”

“We’ll cross the bridge, then burn it.” I held out my hand to help him up. “I’m Forrest Ward, by the way.”

“Karl Magnusson,” he said as he took my hand and stood.

“Scandinavian?” I asked.

“Icelandic, technically,” he grinned. “My parents emigrated here before I was born.”

“They live here?”

“Naw,” he said. “Dad passed away more ’n ten years ago. My mom just last year.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

“Well, at least they didn’t have to experience this shit.”

“Yeah, my family isn’t here, so I wonder how widespread this is.”

“You think we’re, like, ground zero for a zombie apocalypse or something?”

“If we weren’t ground zero, then we’d have heard something before this,” I said. “But I don’t think a zombie apocalypse is right either. You saw the size of those things.”

“Then what?”

“No idea. Let’s get into that supply storage. Then we can get out of here and find out.”

“You want me to abandon my post?”

“Look, Magnusson, your position is overrun, and I’m advising you to pull back to a better position, regroup with superior forces, and improve your field intelligence.”

“What better position?”

“For starters, there’s an army reserve station northwest of here. I don’t recall off the top of my head, but if we can get a map of the town, we can find out.”

“A physical map?”

“Yes, a physical map, agent,” I said. “Unless you know of a working GPS somewhere.”

“No, sir,” he said.

“Great. Grab Anderson, and let’s get into that storage.”

After less than two hundred feet more of pulling the limp body, we rounded the corner, and I could see the steel doors. Magnusson had been correct — if those doors were locked, there was no way I would be able to get in there without a hell of a lot of ordnance.

However, the doors were open, gun crates were tipped on their sides just inside the doorway, and I could see four barrels pointed directly down the hall at us. I quickly ducked back behind the corner before they reacted poorly and shot us.

“Hey, boys and girls, we got another one!”

“Hey, hey,” I yelled back. “Three of us down here, and one of us is hurt. We just need some medical supplies.”

“Yeah, right,” the voice called back. The man had a thick Texas drawl, ideal for lacing words with sarcasm, and this idiot did it very well. “We let you anywhere near us, and you’ll try to kill us, you sum-bitches. Well, I ain’t playin’.”

“T-Bag, you are a special kind of moron.” This voice belonged to a woman.

“‘Scuse me?” He paused for a dramatic effect that I could feel from where I was. “Ma’am.”

“When has one of them crazies stopped to talk to us, instead of just charging?”

“Well, I ain’t ever given ‘em enough time to talk, ma’am,” he said. “I ain’t aimin’ to make friends with ‘em.”

“Ah, shut it, T-Bag,” another man’s voice came. This voice sounded like it was straight off a plane from Boston. The voice raised to yell more clearly down the hall. “Whaddaya want?”

I nodded to Karl next to me, and he spoke up this time. “This is agent Karl Magnusson. I’m with the patrol. Like the man said, we got a wounded with us.”

“Magnusson, you got tags?”, the woman yelled back.

“Yes, ma’am.” He began fishing them off his neck. “Should I throw them down the hall?”

“Come out, and stand in the middle of the hallway,” she said. “Then toss them underhand to me.”

Karl looked at me, and I nodded in agreement. He set his rifle on the ground and took three slow steps around the corner, turning to face the doors. He held the tags by the chain, letting them dangle freely, so they could be seen in the dimming light of my chem.

“Good, now toss them. Slowly.”

I watched as the agent lowered the hand with the tags and tossed them as slowly as he could. There was a jangling as they impacted something at the end of the hall, then a pause.

“Looks good to me,” she said.

“What if he’s just pretending to be this recruit?” T-Bag asked. “He coulda just taken the tags off a body. He don’t sound like no Scandi to me.”

“I got a wallet with my ID in it,” Karl said. “Course, you prolly cain’t read.”

“I will shoot, motherf-“ The voice cut off with a muffled impact.

“God, that was annoying,” I heard the second male voice say. “Not sure how a psycho like him got into the patrol, but he shoulda been discharged years ago.”

“You… just knocked out another agent.”

“I deemed him a danger to another agent, ma’am.” No one said anything for a few seconds.

“I suppose I can accept that. Magnusson, get over here and show me some ID. I may not like it, but T-Bag might have been right.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Karl kept his hands up as he left my eyesight. I heard his boots make their way down the hall, while I kept my eyes on the way we’d come and tried to focus on the gloom of the hallway. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I could make out the paint patterns and some faint artwork on the walls.

“I’m taking my wallet out of my back pocket,” Magnusson said, and I caught the rustle of clothing.

“Yeah, that looks good,” the woman said after a wait. “It’s good to meet you, Magnusson. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Karl said. “Would it be alright if the other two joined us? Like I said, one is wounded.”

“Yes, please do.”

I did not wait. I slung Karl’s rifle over my shoulder, grabbed Andy by both wrists, and hauled him around the corner. They moved the large munitions crates out of the way, so I could pull him into the room. It was a basic munitions supply room, a wall-mounted locker containing the standard firearms the border patrol would give to its agents. There were the M4s and Glocks I’d seen so far as well as a handful of shotguns. In the corner sat a cage, the door closed and secured with a padlock. It was not the cage itself that caught my eye, but what was inside. I saw my backpack.

“Anyone have a key to this lockup?” I asked, looking at the three agents.

“Nice to meet you too,” the woman said, walking up and offering her hand. “I’m Supervisory Border Patrol Agent Carter.”

“Sorry,” I said, accepting the offered hand. Carter had fair skin, blue eyes, high cheekbones, blonde hair, and short stature. I noted the confidence in her eyes before I introduced myself as well. “I’m Lieutenant Ward, U.S. Army.” I nodded to the two other agents behind her, who introduced themselves as Mason and Chavez.

Mason was a slender, young man who wouldn’t quite meet my eye when he said his name, despite his three inches in height over me. His dark hair was just short enough to be regulation, and I saw part of a tattoo under uniform sleeves rolled halfway up his forearm, though I couldn’t quite identify what it was.

Chavez was almost the opposite. With features that looked distinctly Hispanic, he was a full head shorter than I was, but his shoulders were almost as broad. His jet black hair was close-cropped, and the man met my eye with firm politeness.

“You the one who knocked out T-Bag?” I asked. He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. I liked the man already. “Thank you.”

“How did an Army Lieutenant get wrapped up into this?” Carter asked.

“My exact reason for being out here is classified. And I would prefer to see to the wound on Lieutenant Anderson before I share what I can.”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, my original question — does anyone have a key to this cage?”

“The Watch Commander on duty would, but I don’t know where he is. “

“Yeah, he didn’t make it,” I said, exchanging a look with Karl.

I went over to the weapons locker, sliding the two M4s I’d been carrying into a pair of empty spots. I walked over to the row of shotguns and pulled one off the rack. I also grabbed a pair of protective goggles that were lying on the counter next to them. Then, I began searching the munitions containers for ammunition.

“Uh… whatcha doin’ there, LT?” Karl asked.

“I’m going to blast the lock off the cage,” I said.

“Can’t you just use your gun for that? Shoot the lock?”

“That only works in movies,” I said, digging through a munition crate for the shotgun shells. “A handgun has almost no chance of disengaging a lock, and a rifle has a very low probability of disengaging it even if it does blow through the lock.” I found what I was looking for, and pulled the box from the crate, cutting it open with a knife. “What you need is one of these.” I pulled a round from the box and held it up. “This is a breaching round. Designed to punch through a lock at close range, then disperse into powder, so there is no ricochet. Completely useless in any situation where it is not being used for that purpose, however.”

I loaded the slug into the chamber of the shotgun and racked the slide. I continued speaking as I approached the lock. “You hold it close to the target, like this — the standard is six inches or less. It is quite loud, so you may want to plug your ears.” I waited five seconds, so every sane person could do as suggested, and I fired.

Traditionally in a breaching, you are in a wide-open space and attempting to force your way into an enclosed area. In Afghanistan, I would use a breaching round to open the front door of locations suspected to house insurgents. In those instances, the sound would disperse into the open air.

Breaching rounds are not typically used in an already enclosed space. The sound bounced/boomed/shattered around the room, so I spent the next several minutes suffering from ringing ears as I opened the cage and fished around in my tactical backpack for the first aid kit. I cleaned the cut on Andy’s head, which finally woke him. I had Karl and Chavez hold him down while I finished cleaning and bandaging because he wouldn’t sit still. He kept insisting he was fine, but I’m pretty sure the big baby just didn’t like the pain.

I was the last person to regain my hearing, as far as I could tell. T-Bag was still unconscious, so who knew about him? In all honesty, I wasn’t convinced anyone cared.

“So, the LT mentioned connecting with local Army Reserves,” Karl said after I could hear again, and Andy could sit up on his own.

“And Law Enforcement, if I can,” I added. “They are probably scattered around the town, trying to keep order without vehicles or a communication system.”

“You thinking the reserve station northwest of here?” Andy asked.

“Exactly,” I said. “They’ll at least have more weapons and munitions. Probably more food too. And that’s going to be a long-term concern. No power means everything refrigerated is going to go bad.”

“God, it’s likely a free-for-all at the grocery stores.”

“Exactly,” I answered. “If the city is experiencing anything like what we did on base, there will be chaos, and people killing each other over the smallest things.”

“More assholes like T-Bag here,” Karl said.

“Yeah,” Andy chimed in, “what’s with the dude on the floor?”

“Long story,” Carter said.

“First things first,” I said to the group at large. “What are the next steps? Do we stick together or separate?”

“I say we take what we need and can carry, and leave T-Bag in here with the doors locked. He’ll be able to get out, but he’ll be on his own. We head to this Army Reserve.” The quiet Mason offered this golden piece of advice. I decided that I quite liked the boy, even if I had to disagree with him.

“You up for a little hiking trip?” I asked Andy.

“How far?”

“Dunno.”

“We should probably find a map then,” Andy grinned. “ I wouldn’t be able to go for more than an hour at a time before I need to rest if I’m being honest.”

“We got any maps in here?” I asked and began looking around the room. Carter and Magnusson helped while Mason and Chavez covered the doors, but we had no luck finding anything.

“Okay, anyone know where a map would be?”

“Visitor building,” Carter said almost immediately.

“Which would be where?” Andy asked.

“At the main Brownsville entrance,” she said.

“And you know where that is, yes?”

“Oh, sure,” Chavez said. “A mile-and-a-half down the road. Takes me about thirty minutes at a decent walking pace.” He shrugged and gestured to Andy. “Maybe a little more, if he can’t walk as fast.”

“I’ll be right as rain in a few days,” Andy said.

“Unfortunately, we can’t wait a few days,” I said. “We’re losing daylight, and we should at least make it to the Army Reserve location by the end of the day, ideally with food and adding any other survivors who want to join us. I also don’t want to leave T-Bag behind. As Karl said, he’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s another pair of eyes to watch each other’s backs. Any objections?”

There were none, so Carter woke T-Bag up by slapping him lightly across the face. “Hey, you’re sleeping while you’re on shift.”

“Hey, uh… ma’am,” he said groggily when he looked up at her. “What’s goin’ on?” Then he saw Karl and me, and he was immediately awake. “Who are the two new guys?” He took in Karl’s uniform.

“Three, actually,” Andy waved from where he sat on the floor. “I’m Lieutenant Anderson, US Army, but most people call me Andy.”

“Oh, I remember you,” T-Bag stood shakily to his feet, facing Karl. “You’re the mouthy one who tried to fake that you were part of the patrol.”

“He is part of the patrol, Bagwell,” Carter said.

“Yeah, whatever. Why did I fall asleep? And why does the back of my head hurt so much?” Then realization came into his eyes. “You MFers.”

“Well, you were about to shoot a border patrol agent,” Chavez chimed in. Mason remained his usually quiet self.

“He was bein’ mouthy.”

“So were you, ya dipshit,” Chavez said.

“That’s enough,” Carter said. “If you can’t speak civilly, then keep it to yourself. We have civilians out there who likely need help. Set your personal feelings aside and remember the oaths you swore to protect the United States.”

“Ma’am, I say we cut ‘em loose,” T-Bag said, gesturing at Andy and me. This time, he spoke with more respect in his voice.

“Bagwell,” Carter said. “This is Lieutenant Ward with the US Army, and he just made an argument to not leave you behind.”

“What?” The look of dumb confusion on his face was priceless.

“After the shit you nearly pulled,” Carter said, “we had a serious discussion about leaving you to your devices.”

“You was gonna leave me behind?”

“Shoot,” Karl said, “I wanted to cut you up and feed you to a scorpion to try and tame it, but they said no.”

“You wouldn’t though…” T-Bag swallowed. “Would ya?”

“Naw, man,” Karl said. “We brothers-in-arms an’ all that. You made a mistake, and we gonna keep you on the team. Besides, people gotta stick together. No tellin’ how many of us regular humans are still alive.”

“We’re losing time,” I said. “Get your gear. We want to move fast, so pack light on weapons, but heavy on ammo. No telling if we’ll come back here. There anything like a janitor cart or something? We could use it to transport extra weapons and munition, and it wouldn’t slow us down too much. Would be handy if we ran into more people.”

So saying, I went into the cage and started grabbing some of my old gear that the border patrol had confiscated. I grabbed my MP5 and hung it from its sling around my neck. Instead of grabbing my handgun, however, I took the one belonging to Captain Ares, along with its holster. Next, I grabbed the sword that belonged to X-Ray. We’d always made fun of the Chinese man for carrying it since it was out of standard regs, but when you’re part of the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment, there’s a little leeway granted, as long as it isn’t a dangerous change. Next, I grabbed Chewy’s combat knife, also slipping the sheath into my belt. It was an enormous thing, like what you’d see from Crocodile Dundee, but it was his favorite. I had to fish around in Crash’s backpack for a bit, but finally found the next item I wanted to keep. It was a key to the Hum Vee he drove into a ditch when he was in basic, and it was how he got his callsign. I tucked it into one of the many small pockets on my backpack, making a mental note of where it was, even if I’d never use it.

Finally, I had to think of something for Yankee. The man was my closest friend on the team since we joined at the same time. I dug through his pack, looking for something — anything — that I could find that would mean something to him. Wedged into a fold in the interior lining of the pack, I found a picture. It must have been his wife and son. I blinked twice before I tucked the picture into the breast pocket of my vest.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” I muttered. “Why’d you have to go and die like that?”

“He was a good man,” Andy said as he put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find his family and tell them what happened.”

I couldn’t say anything, so I just nodded my head. The recent events threatened to push down on me, and I wanted to take the time to grieve for my friends. Instead, I put the grief away for now. I closed my eyes and opened the box in my mind that I reserved for my emotions at times like this. I put all those feelings of pain and anger into the box, and I imagined closing the box, forcing the lid down, and latching it in place. When I opened my eyes, I was ready to get back to work.

“Everyone ready to go?” I asked the room at large when I turned to face them.

“Wait…” T-Bag said. “Who put you in charge?”