Los Angeles defector

The warm little building

The platoon leader's name is Winston Reed. Despite his lack of formal education, he rose through the ranks as a new recruit and gained valuable battlefield experience. He is known for his cautious nature. He strategically positions the platoon's main force in three closely spaced houses, forming a triangular defensive formation that provides mutual cover at a short distance. Two Czech-style light machine guns are placed on the flanks, and additional infantry soldiers are stationed in the courtyards between the three main defensive points to provide support. The small building where the platoon is located is positioned behind this triangular formation, creating a diamond shape when combined. While this defensive arrangement may be too conservative for launching an offensive, it becomes an impregnable fortress when defending.

After the initial chaos, the platoon leader and the squad leader finally got the defensive system up and running. The machine guns on the flanks began providing cross-cover fire, while individual infantry soldiers threw grenades over the walls and kept up a continuous stream of rifle fire. The vampires, being outnumbered, made a few unsuccessful attempts at a brief assault. They did not linger in battle and, leaving behind over a dozen corpses, decisively withdrew from the engagement, retreating out of contact.

"Captain, Captain, it seems like the vampires have retreated."

"I'm already watching, what are you shouting about?" The platoon leader leaned out of the window, scanning the surroundings, and confirmed that the vampires had indeed retreated. He pulled his head back inside, leaned against the wall, and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

"That useless piece of crap, Big Fang, not only took the Second Platoon, but almost got me killed too." He flicked his hand to extinguish the match he had used to light his cigarette and continued, "Wasn't the Second Battalion supposed to come up? Where are they? The vampires have already come and gone, and their Second Battalion is worthless compared to even the vampires. What a joke."

While they were talking, the communications soldier from the battalion crawled in through the rear window.

"Report! The battalion commander has issued an order for the entire first battalion to hold their current positions, maintain vigilant observation, and prevent the enemy from slipping through. No unauthorized actions are allowed."

After listening to the mission report, the platoon leader turned to the communications soldier and said, "Hey, I was just grumbling about it. It's good timing that you're here. You're the battalion commander's right-hand man, sharp-eared and sharp-eyed. Let me ask you, didn't they say the Second Battalion was coming up? Why haven't we seen any sign of them until now?"

"The Second Battalion? Oh, it seems like there has been a change of plans in the regiment. The regimental commander said that this vampire vanguard force wouldn't have a large number of troops, and it wouldn't be worthwhile to engage them in direct urban combat. So, he ordered the Second Battalion to take a detour along the riverbank and join the Third Battalion in flanking the docks."

Brown looked at the row of consecutive bullet holes on the wooden wall of the second floor and the chaotic mess inside the room. He patted the shoulder of the tall guy and said, "Holy cow, Jason, the officer, is lying on the floor, and the platoon leader is hiding under the bed. But you, with such a big frame, have been standing in the corner without getting hit by a single bullet. Who on earth did you worship? Come on, tell me, I'll worship him too from now on."

The tall guy's face turned red, still trembling with fear. After Jason's reminder, the platoon leader swiftly crawled under the nearby broken bed. Being slow to react, I hadn't yet grasped the situation when a shocking scene began unfolding right before my eyes. I had been suppressed by machine g*n fire in trenches and on the streets before, without feeling much fear. I always thought I was brave and unafraid of death. But when all of this happened indoors, I was terrified like a new recruit. My legs went weak, and I slumped against the wall corner behind me, unable to make any movements except for my rapidly dilating pupils.

Old Blackskin sat on the broken bed, smoking a cigarette. "I tell you, Brown, from now on, make sure you assess the situation before you react. As soon as we climbed upstairs, you hugged that big dumbass and started wailing, making me think he was dead."

"He was staring wide-eyed, mouth agape, like a piece of wood. How was I supposed to know..." Brown paused and sat down next to Old Blackskin. "Platoon leader, we ran in the rain all night yesterday. Look at these clothes, they're still soaking wet. We're tired and cold. The vampires may have retreated, but this building is tall, and the gunfire hasn't stopped. Who knows, we might get greeted by a sniper bullet any moment, or even a grenade launcher. In my opinion, we should all go downstairs and get some sleep. After all, there's a row of rooms down there."

Old Blackskin exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "It's people like you who end up dead. With this dampness all over you, if I sleep with you, I'll fall sick and won't be able to get up. We have a shortage of doctors and medicine. In less than three days, I'll have to find a pit to bury you. Do you believe me?"

Brown pouted and remained silent. Old Blackskin also pondered in his heart. Brown was half right. The vampires had retreated, but this small building had exposed its firepower. Once the fog cleared, they would surely come under attack. The platoon leader, this despicable fellow, assigned this unlucky task to the third platoon as revenge. It was distressing.

Jason pressed four bullets into the g*n, filling the magazine, and then leaned the g*n against the wall next to him. Only then did he stand up from the ground, rolled up his sleeves, clapped his hands, and descended the stairs.

"You foolish boy, didn't you join the army? Being a soldier means having the mindset of a soldier. Now get up and start working."

The foolish boy, fearing being ignored, quickly stood up from the corner of the wall upon hearing Jason's call. With a dirty face, he smiled brightly and clumsily saluted, saying, "Yes, Brother Jason! Whatever you tell me to do, I'll do it without hesitation."

Jason found a bucket, walked to the water tank, and without looking back, said, "Search every house in these two blocks, and bring back anything edible."

"Ah? Alright! I'll go right away." This task was right up the foolish boy's alley, and before the words had even finished, he was out the door.

Brown turned his head and looked at Old Blackskin, saying, "Sergeant, can't you hear it? He's already starting to a***e his authority. He won't even spare a child, let alone handle a g*n. What if we encounter a vampire?"

Old Blackskin, who was also puzzled by Jason's intentions, was wondering what Jason was up to. Just then, he saw Jason coming up with a bucket of water.

Jason dislikes pity and sympathy. As a former bandit since childhood, he only believes in the principles of "righteousness" and "morality". Last night, the foolish boy sat in the mud and spoke with conviction, which impressed Jason. Despite being young, he was still a tough guy. Being a tough guy means doing tough things, regardless of age. Since he was eight years old, he had to carry knives and guns and join the bandits in robbing the roads. If he didn't go, he wouldn't have a share of the food. Who would he reason with? Moreover, this foolish boy is quite clever. His ability to hide and find food is definitely stronger than that of the big guys and Brown. Even if there really are vampires nearby, Jason believes he can evade them first, while the vampires may not be able to find him.

In the puzzled gazes of Old Blackskin, Brown, and the big guy, Jason lifted the bucket and splashed the water onto the wooden wall of the second floor. With a loud noise, the water dripped and trickled onto the ground. He then turned around, went downstairs, and brought up another bucket to continue splashing water.

"Is he crazy? Did he just hit his head and go insane?"

Old Blackskin couldn't sit still either. He threw away his cigarette, patted his bottom, and stood up. "I say, Jason, what are you up to?"

"We'll set fire to that wooden wall over there in a bit. I'm afraid the fire will spread too quickly over here, so let's wet this side first."

When Brown heard what Jason said, his jaw almost dropped to the ground. "What? So you're going to wet it first before setting it on fire? Are you crazy? Sergeant, he must be out of his mind."

Old Blackskin didn't believe that Jason was out of his mind. Instead, he found Jason's words intriguing. "Hey, Jason, hold on. Could you explain in detail what your idea is? Let's work on it together."

Jason set down the bucket, shook off the water from his hands, and replied calmly, "We'll set fire to one side of the second floor. When the vampires see the building on fire, as long as we don't shoot again, they won't bother with this target anymore. We can use this fire to dry our clothes. If the foolish boy manages to find some food later, we can even have breakfast together. Relying on the cooks to bring us food, we might end up starving."

"This, this, what if the fire gets too big and burns down the whole building?" the big guy interjected, looking bewildered.

Old Blackskin's eyes lit up with understanding, "Hehe...haha...I say big guy, this isn't the house you're marrying into, why do you care so much. Damn it, it's even better if it burns down; then we won't have to be sitting ducks here." He moved closer and punched Jason on the shoulder, "Jason, you're something else, can't deny that. The gap between us is too wide." Then he turned to Brown and instructed, "When the fire starts, go inform the captain, just say the vampires shot and shattered the kerosene lamp, everything's normal, to keep him from getting anxious."

Without further ado, the four of them got busy in the small building. The big guy and Brown took on the task of fetching water as suggested by Jason, even splashing some on the ceiling. Old Blackskin tore off a worn blanket from the broken bed and piled it in a dry corner of the wooden wall, lighting it with a match.

As they watched, a feeble flame crept along the edge of the tattered blanket, growing slowly but steadily, gradually expanding until it reached the wooden wall, beginning to crackle and pop. In the glow of the fire, the four pale, weary faces slowly transformed, becoming warm and flushed.