Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
DUSTIN
“ H ere we go!” a soldier farther down yells with a little too much enthusiasm. The seat belt signal clicks on, warning us of the incoming nosedive. That’s the thing about flying into enemy territory. You get in and out without getting shot down. Meaning you have a ridiculously short window to do both.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this part.” Brian rubs his palms up and down his thighs. “The whole not being able to see our surroundings as we drop out of the sky doesn’t help.” He looks over, giving me a nervous grin.
“At least we wouldn’t know we were going to die. We’d just be dead. And it’d be quick.”
“Tell that to the newbie.”
I follow his gaze over to see a statuesque, paler than normal Greyson to my left, staring off with eyes wide as saucers.
“Breathe, Sergeant Greyson. Or you’ll pass out,” I say, nudging him with my elbow. “And clench your butthole. So you don’t shit your pants.”
The plane dips downward and we all follow suit, falling to the side before righting ourselves. Except Greyson. His body hangs over like a limp noodle. I grab his arm, pulling him upright against the side wall as much as I’m able to during the descent.
“I swear to God if you hurl,” I mumble, securing my arm across his chest. He comes to, frantically looking around like a lost kid in a flea market. “Welcome back.” I smack his chest a couple times as the plane straightens itself before coming to an abrupt halt, tossing us into one another like a pendulum. Once the jostling of cargo and bodies stills, the unbuckling of seat belts clanking echoes around us.
Echo.
And without warning, Greyson’s body lurches forward, remnants of his last meal splattering on the floor.
THE SUN SHINES brightly, too brightly, and I wonder why the fireball is likened to happiness. Something that literally burns you shouldn’t boost one’s mood. Yet it does. Well, not here. Here it’s a reminder of where we are—hell on earth. Besides the whole gnashing of teeth, I’m pretty sure the temperature here is set on hell degrees.
Thankfully, I’m familiar with this operating base and know where to find our company commander. We’re only here until the alternating platoon returns and we move out, but I need to know precisely how long we have to get our Stryker uparmored. I begin making my way through the makeshift village we’ve created out of abandoned buildings and homes made of rock and cement.
“Hey, Adams. Wait up.” The sound of feet padding the ground inches closer, but I don’t wait. “Do you know our orders?” Brian asks, now walking in step with me.
“Heading that way now.”
“Is it cool if I go with you?”
“Listen,” I say. “I hate dumb questions. So instead of asking just do unless I say otherwise.”
“Yes, sir.” He gives a curt nod. Heavy, uncomfortable silence looms between us, almost diminishing the noises that fill the lively base as we continue walking. “It’s just,” he starts as we stop in front of the wooden door, “I want to make sure I’m familiar with all the whos and whats in case…”
“In case I’m incapacitated, and you have to fill in for me?”
He gulps.
The wooden door swings open, saving him from a response.
THE NEXT FEW days we spend up-armoring our Strykers we’ll be driving to our post as well as putting a bird cage around them and adding sniper nets. Most would think these nineteen-ton monstrosities could withstand anything, but since explosively formed projectiles became a thing, we’ve had to adapt. So to keep the molten metal from melting through the Stryker, we now encase them with metal slats and bars all the way around, which is called the bird cage. It makes the new weight of the beast a good twenty-two tons.
Ever since coming back to life after landing, Greyson hasn’t seemed to shut up. I’m unsure if it’s nerves or age, but I’m just thankful he’s playing twenty-one questions with the other guys and not attempting to do so with me. Greyson and Williams work on the Stryker to my left, working to get the camo net over the top to keep the snipers from being able to easily spot our men.
“Where you from?” Greyson asks.
“Oklahoma.”
“How long have you been married?”
I glance up and watch as Brian looks off momentarily.
“Umm, almost thirteen years.”
Holy shit. She literally shacked up with him right after she disappeared.
He continues, “She’s my childhood best friend. Familiar and comfortable.”
How can he reduce what she means to him to such simplistic values?
“All I’ve ever known. And same for her.”
But that’s a lie. She knew me. And truth be told, she still owns me.
“Pool, where you from?” Brian asks, hopping to the ground.
“Oklahoma,” he says. Then as if it was planned, in unison they yell, “Boomer Sooner.”
Naturally, both Brian’s would be Okie’s.
“Yo, Adams. How about you?”
I can sense all three looking my way, waiting for a reply that I don’t care to give. I don’t even want these guys to know my first name, let alone where I’m from. It’s a tactic I started when I first joined to keep from getting close to anyone. The less information, the lesser the attachment.
“Smalltown Georgia.” Roberts comes up from behind, bracing both hands on my shoulders. “Ain’t that right, Georgia Peach,” he teases, walking off.
And I hate him for it. Apparently, I haven’t kept my wall high enough through the years and have let some mosey their way in a tiny bit. But when you’re in a war zone, you do desperate things to keep your men alive. That’s what I did with Justin Roberts when he was lying injured in my arms five years ago. He wanted to hear about my life to keep his mind off his wounds. And without hesitation, I opened up to him. I just hoped he wouldn’t remember anything I had said.
“Remind me to let you bleed out alone next time.” I finally speak up, but only to change the subject.
“Dang, shots fired,” Roberts says, causing me to laugh. Every platoon needs a Justin. For someone who had such a rough upbringing, his humor and positivity know no bounds.
“You know I love you, man.” I walk up to Roberts and give him a fist bump.
“Yeah, brother, I know. You ain’t as hard as you try to act.”
“I soften up just for you, baby.”
And just like that, the conversation has been diverted.