Rule of Four (Damned of the 2/19th Novella)

So Do Other People's Pet Rocks

If I don't know their name
I don't have to care
And maybe, just maybe
They won't haunt me
When they die

Primary Generator Room
Sub-Level One
Barracks Area
2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area
Alfenwehr, West Germany
23 November, 1988
0030

The room had warmed up. One of the 5KW generators was shuddering, shivering, already dying. The bearing was screaming as the square block of life giving mechanicals started to fail, filling the cinderblock room with a metallic banshee howl even with the sound suppression that had been layered over the cinderblock.

The first of three lights had come on in the cabinet.

I'd pulled the filters, swapping out any of them with gelled fuel on them. Ran extreme cold weather primer into the fuel lines of the massive beasts. Made sure all the grounding points were properly secured. Going through each and every step of the checklist twice.

Now I was sitting on a dead 5KW generator that had caught on fire within ninety seconds, that the Private and I had put out with one of the twenty massive CO2 powder extinquishers. I had my hand held out, the Private wrapping a cravat over the gauze that was covering my left hand. I wanted the OD green to cover the white gauze.

"How can you move it, man? I could see the meat. Hell, I think I could see the finger tendons," The Private said, tying off the cravat back by the top of my wrist.

"Twisted steel and sex appeal," I told him, flexing my fingers. He made a scoffing sound, but got up anyway, moving away.

He was in his leather gloves with woolen liners, field jacket with liner, insulated field pants with liner, long johns, and winter BDU's with his cold weather cap on top.

I was wearing my long john pants and my field jacket, liner and leather glove on my right hand.

I flexed my left hand again then picked up my left glove. I tugged it on, ignoring the burning pain in my fingers and hand as I  flexed my fingers again.

The Private just shook his head, moving away.

I glanced over, saw a second red light had come on in the cabinet.

"How long will this take?" The Private asked, staring at the three 5KW generators.

The one with the bad bearing made a horrible whanging sound, full of grinding metal, and slowly wound down.

"Longer, now," I told him, flicking my ashes on the floor and rubbing it in with my toe.

Yeah, there was another way, using the hand crank system, all analog, as few moving parts as possible, but I wanted to save that just in case. An idea I'd been toying with was that the mountain couldn't destroy something it didn't know was there.

"How long?" He asked.

"In a hurry to get killed by the Thing?" I asked him, shaking my head. I reached over and picked up my chocolate covered brownie that I'd smeared my peanut butter on.

"No," the Private said. He sounded a little sulky about it. I just nodded, eating my treat. After a moment he spoke again. "How can you just sit there and eat? What about the other two guys?"

I chewed up and swallowed the last of my brownie, wiped my mouth, and stared at him.

"Well?" He asked.

Christ, this was why nobody liked privates.

"Either the Thing has gotten one of them and the other is at risk and will be killed soon, or it hasn't gotten either of them yet," I told him. "Rule of Four is in play, but we're missing a key event that needs to happen."