In the Mist
By Karri
Summary: Zeke spends some time in the twilight zone.
Disclaimer: Tour of Duty and its characters are the property of Zev Braun and New Line Productions.
Written for entertainment purposes only and no money is being made. The original characters & situations are the property of the author.
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Sergeant Zeke Anderson hugged his wounded Lieutenant closer to him as the kid trembled violently.
"It's all right, sir," he spoke soothingly, "you're gonna be all right."
The wounded officer moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head and Zeke hugged him tighter, as if he could somehow hold on to the life that was quickly draining out of the kid. The battle-weary Sergeant knew better, however. A slight tremble rippled through Zeke as he felt the young Lieutenant release his final breath, the tension in his body leaving with it.
Zeke felt tears well up in his eyes as he clung to the limp body of the Lieutenant. He wanted to scream. Instead, he laid his slain officer down gently and quickly brushed the tears away, hoping the men hadn't noticed.
"He gone, Sarge?" Taylor whispered hesitantly, more stating than asking. He'd hovered protectively around the Sarge and Doc as they'd done what they could for wounded officer.
"Finally got a butter bar with potential, now we're gonna have to break in a fuckin' new one." Taylor muttered to himself, fighting back tears.
Shuffling his feet for a moment, he resisted the urge to glance again at the lifeless form, knowing the tears would win the battle if he did. Feeling himself losing the battle anyway, Taylor moved away.
Sgt. Anderson continued sitting by the body for a few minutes. The kid hadn't been with the platoon long, but his loss was going to be felt deeply by the men, nonetheless. Running on Nam time, ya got attached to guys quick, and the Lieutenant's friendly, easy-going nature had made him especially easy to like. Damn!! He really liked this kid. Well, at least he'd make sure the Lieutenant's body made it home.
"Saddle up! We're movin'!" Sarge ordered, slinging the limp body of the young Lieutenant over his shoulder.
Sighing, Zeke focused himself on the business-at-hand. There wasn't time to grieve for the young officer now. The dense mist that had settled in around them as the rain let up was going to slow them down, so they couldn't afford to waste any more time getting to the LZ.
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"Bravo six, this is two-five," Sgt. Anderson reported in, "we're coming in from your November-Echo."
"That's a roger, two-five," came the response, "we'll keep an eye out."
As the soggy platoon trudged wearily into the LZ, Cpt. Wallace watched Sgt. Anderson flop his Lieutenant onto an empty plot of ground. Damn! He'd planned to send the kid to check out the ridge rising a dozen meters up from the western edge of the short, flat hill they were using for their LZ. Well, he couldn't spare anyone else, Anderson would have to do it.
"Sergeant, I need you to take a couple squads up there," Cpt. Wallace pointed to the steep ridge, "There's NVA coming from below, I don't want any surprises from above."
"Yes, sir." Sgt. Anderson responded flatly.
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The direct approach from the LZ would have been a formidable climb for anyone, but after working his way across the wide gully separating the short hill from the steep ridge, Anderson had marched his men north and found an another path to the top. Despite needing to maneuver around the steep, rain-slickended gullies that criss-crossed up the hill, it had been easy hike. Zeke had been in combat long enough to know better than to take the easy path, but he was tired and more upset than he cared to admit over the loss of the Lieutenant.
As they reached the rocky crown of the ridge, Anderson thought to himself that the day's luck must have shifted their direction. Assuming there weren't any nasty surprises waiting for them in the caves they'd seen from the LZ, the position could be easily defended. As he began to inspect the area, the Sergeant thought about the devastating havoc the NVA would have wreaked on the men below had they taken control of the ridge first.
"Bravo six, this is two-five. No sign of any unfriendlies, sir," Sgt. Anderson reported, "pretty easy access up here, though."
"Anything interesting inside those caves?" Cpt. Wallace inquired, hoping they'd make this mission worthwhile by stumbling across an NVA stash.
"Negative, Bravo six, caves just an optical illusion. Nothing but some deep crevices."
"Roger that, two-five," the Captain responded, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Can you hold the position with what you've got?"
"Affirmative, Bravo six," Sergeant Anderson replied.
"Watch your tail up there, two-five," came the reply.
"Roger that, two-five out."
Zeke had caught the disappointment in Cpt. Wallace's voice, but he was still relieved that the "caves" had been nothing more than the scant light filtering through the dense mist making the deep crevices appear even deeper. Finishing his inspection of the ridge, the Sergeant paused to looked down on the men formed in a semi-circle below him. As he viewed the serene, mist-obscured scenery around the LZ, the Sergeant felt oddly removed from the impending fight. It felt as though he were a fan sitting high up in the stands preparing to cheer on his favorite team. Behind him Zeke could hear his men chatting casually as they hunkered down. Everything around him seemed surreal, and Zeke wondered for a moment if he was really sound asleep in his bunk back at Ladybird. He felt a twinge of hope that maybe he'd wake up from this dream and be able tell the Lieutenant all about it over a beer.
"Two-five, this is Bravo six, we're in over our heads."
Zeke jumped, startled by the voice crackling over the radio. He hadn't noticed the intensifying sounds of battle below him.
"Got a Spooky nearby, he's coming in to clear the area," Cpt. Wallace announced, "Get your guys ready to move, the choppers will be right behind him."
"Acknowledged, two-five out." Zeke responded, pulling himself back into reality. "Saddle-up guys, we're heading back down."
"Anderson, wait!"
The Sergeant jumped. The order had come out of nowhere. Zeke twisted around to locate its origin.
"Sir?!" Sgt. Anderson responded automatically to the authoritative tone of the voice, but then hesitated.
His eyes settled on a vague human shape standing in one of the deep, mist-shrouded crevices. The Sergeant could just make out the filthy green army fatigues, but couldn't quite see the face, or the name.
"Get the guys under cover," the voice ordered, "I don't want to have our butts exposed if that Spooky forgets to release his trigger as he passes us."
Sgt. Anderson still hesitated. Who was this? Was it some sort of NVA trick? Zeke could hear the devastating fire of the C-47 coming closer and auto-pilot kicked in.
"What's up, Sarge?" Taylor questioned, noticing that Sgt. Anderson had become distracted.
"We're taking cover!!" The Sergeant shouted, spinning around to face him.
"Huh? I thought we..." Taylor began as Zeke pushed past him.
"You heard the Sergeant, Taylor! Move!"
Taylor jumped. He looked around, but there was no one.
"Move it, Private!"
"Yes, sir!" Taylor responded automatically to the forcefulness of the command and he slid into the nearest gully.
"Take cover!" Sgt. Anderson bellowed. "Move it! Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!"
The urgent tone of their Sergeant's voice sent the men scrambling for cover. A couple of the less experienced men hesitated and were rewarded by a hard shove from Zeke to get them moving in the right direction. The Sergeant paused as the heavy fire neared him, scanning the ridge quickly to be sure all the men had reached cover.
"Zeeeke!!"
Sgt. Anderson heard the scream at the same instant the air around him turned into a mass of exploding debris. Strong arms were pulling him deep into the gully, away from the flying shards of rock and bullets. His head ached and spun mercilessly, his shoulder felt like it was on fire.
"Zeke?! Zeke?!"
Sgt. Anderson looked hazily into the deep brown eyes of his savior.
"Zeke! Your gonna be all right! Just hang in there!"
Who was he? The Sergeant tried to stay coherent enough to identify the young face hovering over him. Feeling himself losing consciousness, he tried to fix the image of the unfamiliar face in his mind. Concern filled the deep brown eyes that burned into his memory as they slowly faded into the mist.
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"You were damn lucky, Sergeant," Cpt. Wallace commented smiling, shaking his head at the thought of what might have been.
"Yes, sir," Sgt. Anderson absently replied, distracted by the activity outside his window. He hated laying around when he ought to be looking after his men.
"Sir," Zeke startled the Captain by suddenly focusing on the conversation, "I was wondering who it was that pulled me into that gully, didn't recognize the kid."
Cpt. Wallace stopped smiling as he looked at his Sergeant with a mixture of concern and bewilderment.
The Sergeant's injuries hadn't been as serious as his blood soaked fatigues had made them appear as he was loaded on the evac chopper. He'd been cut up pretty good by the debris exploding around him, but none of the wounds had been deep. The nasty knock on the head he'd gotten sliding into the gully hadn't seemed like anything to worry about either - until now.
"I'd like to thank the him, sir," Zeke continued, puzzled by the Captain's change in demeanor.
"Nobody up there but your guys, Zeke," Captain Wallace finally responded, "look, I better let you get some rest," he hastily added as a perplexed look came across Zeke's face. Leaving the infirmary, the Captain worried that his Sergeant had been in-country too long.
"Taylor, you see somebody pull Sgt. Anderson into that gully?" Captain Wallace quizzed the young soldier waiting for him outside.
"No, sir," Taylor responded, "Sarge was the last one to dive for cover, nobody else near him."
"See anybody up there you didn't know?"
"No, sir!" Taylor answered quickly, hoping the Captain wouldn't press the issue. He wasn't so sure what had happened up there, but he hadn't seen anybody up on that ridge besides his buddies. There was no way he was telling anybody about hearing the order to take cover. He was afraid he'd end up in the loony bin if he started talking about hearing voices.
Zeke felt his head start to spin as he strained to hear the distant conversation. The spinning turned into an ache and he settled into the bed. In a few days, when the Doc turned him loose, he'd check around and find the guy himself.
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"I'm telling ya, Sarge, I didn't see nobody else up there," Taylor insisted.
For weeks the Sergeant had hounded everyone that had been up on the ridge with him. No one would admit to seeing anyone beside his buddies, or hearing any orders except Sarge's. Taylor'd been edgy, though, and Zeke was sure he knew more than he was saying.
Cpt. Wallace watched the scene from the doorway of the infirmary. It added to the irritation he was already feeling at being pulled out of Ladybird to have a chat with some lame-assed headshrinker. To prevent the trip from being a total waste, he'd brought the Sergeant and couple guys along to restock the pantry while the Captain was chatting with the Doc. He'd have left his Sergeant tucked safely away at the Firebase if he'd known that Zeke was going to be the topic of the conversation.
It seemed that the Doc had heard from some of the kids that had been medevac back to Chu Lai that the Sergeant was still determined to find out about the guy that he believed had pulled him to safety on that ridge nearly a month ago. None of the other men had seen the guy, so the Doc had decided that Sgt. Anderson was going a little loony and wanted to pull him out of the field for a while. Zeke HAD been a little obsessed with finding the guy, but it hadn't prevented him from doing his job, so the Captain had just spent nearly an hour convincing the Doc that the Sergeant was fit for duty. Watching Zeke corner Taylor, again, to question the poor kid about some imaginary savior, Cpt. Wallace wondered if he was doing the right thing. Anderson was one of his best men, he hated the thought of losing him, but maybe the Doc was right, maybe Zeke did need to spend some time in Psych.
"Problem with Taylor, Sergeant?" the Captain inquired, waving the Sergeant over.
"No, sir. Just chatting with the boy."
"Zeke," Cpt. Wallace began quietly, suddenly deciding to be candid with the Sergeant. He paused and stepped closer to prevent anyone else from hearing the conversation before continuing, "the Doc thinks your losing it - hounding the guys about some imaginary kid. Look, your one of my best men, but I gotta know if your heads still in the game."
Sgt. Anderson was floored. He knew the Doc thought he'd been seeing things up on that ridge, but it never occurred to him that Cpt. Wallace would doubt him. It dawned on Zeke how strange his behavior appeared - storming around the base, determined to find some kid that nobody else would admit to seeing. The Sergeant reluctantly admitted to himself that he must have imagined the whole thing.
"Come on! Let's get back to Ladybird," Cpt. Wallace had watched his Sergeant's face and knew that whatever had been going on with the man, he'd just put it behind him.
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