Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! I really appreciate the support and I love hearing what people think.
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What you do
No one can decide
it's up to you
And who you are is what you choose
These times
when the world falls apart
Make us who we are
~Lifehouse—The End Has Only Begun
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I woke up in a cold sweat. I didn't remember the dream, but I knew it had been another nightmare. I rolled over, realized once again that the space next to me was empty, and sighed. Soda had been gone for two months now.
The day he'd gotten his draft letter had been one of the worst days of all our lives. He, Darry and I had come home from a rare treat of eating dinner out and had found the day's mail waiting for us at the front door. It was usually just bills and junk mail, but that day had been different. Darry had found the official looking envelope in the middle of the pile and Soda had opened it in silence. We all knew what it probably was, but that didn't stop my stomach from dropping down to my feet when he looked up from the letter and nodded, confirming our suspicions. Steve had come over later that night with his own letter. We'd spent the night in solemn silence; not even Two-Bit's attempts at antics could cheer us up.
Now I lay in my empty bed, trying to get back to sleep. It was never easy, not with Soda gone. Every time I almost made it back to sleep, I would jump awake again, startled by some half imagined, half dreamt image of disaster on the other side of the world.
It was two days later that my nightmares turned to reality. It was Friday afternoon and I was doing my homework on the couch in the living room, trying to ignore Two-Bit mocking the game show he was watching. I could've moved to my room, but it was too quiet in there. Better to have aggravation than dead silence.
Darry, home early for a change, was in the kitchen fixing dinner. I would've helped him, but he insisted I get my school work done instead. Just before Soda had been drafted, a friend at school had told me about a job opportunity. There was a horseracing track across town where he worked as a busboy and when someone quit, he'd phoned me and given me a heads up. I'd wanted to start helping with the bills, but I'd been afraid to ask Darry about it. It was only when something specific came up that I'd worked up the courage to broach the subject. I'd been shocked when he'd agreed with almost no argument. The only condition had been that I didn't use the money to help with the bills; I had to put half of it in a college fund and the other half was for my own needs, which let him off the hook for my smokes, movies, and books. I worked every Saturday night, so I usually tried to get most of my homework out of the way on Friday.
As I puzzled over a math problem, I glanced up from my books in time to see the mail carrier walking away from our house. Ever since Soda had left boot camp and landed in 'Nam, I'd dreaded the mail delivery. That was how the government told you your world had fallen apart.
Darry had noticed the mail carrier, too, and went to investigate. I felt all the color drain out of my face when he came back in holding one single official envelope. Even from where I was sitting I could see "The United States Army" stamped as the return address. Two-Bit had been watching, and when he saw what Darry was holding, he silently crossed the room and turned off the TV.
My heart pounded in my chest. This couldn't be happening. That envelope almost definitely contained a letter telling us Soda was gone. Even if it wasn't going to knock us down another family member, it was only going to be an order for Darry to go to Vietnam, too.
Darry slowly walked over to the other end of the couch and sat down, opening the envelope as he did. He was stony faced as he read it and when he was done, he silently passed it to me. His face didn't give any indication of what the news was, so I reluctantly turned to read the letter for myself.
I barely managed to take in any of the words on the page. Only certain phrases jumped out at me and stuck in my muddled brain: We regret to inform you…Sodapop…Missing in Action…presumed dead…
I stared blankly at the page until I numbly felt Two-Bit take it out of my hands. Soda couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.
We sat in silence until smoke started coming from the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, Darry quickly ran to take whatever he'd been cooking off the stove. As I heard the remnants of dinner being scraped into the garbage, a thought occurred to me, one tiny glimmer of hope. As soon as Darry had sat back down a minute later, I spoke up. "It didn't say Soda was dead."
Two-Bit and Darry both looked at me, confused. "The letter didn't say Soda was dead," I repeated, annoyed that they didn't get it. "It said Soda was MIA. They're just assuming he's dead. He might not be."
"Aww, Pone," Two-Bit sighed, coming over to sit on the floor beside me. He patted my knee and looked at me sadly. "Pone, they wouldn't've sent that letter if they thought he was alive." I glared at him. He was always flipping off reality. Why did he have to be so pessimistic now?
I turned to Darry, looking for support from the one person who should be as desperate as I was to have Soda be alive. "Pone, Two-Bit's right," he said, gazing back at me sadly. "I'd love to believe that Soda's okay, but realistically, there's not much chance."
"How can you say that, Darry?!" I shouted, jumping up from the couch. I expected him to yell back at me, but he just sat there, silent, which made me even madder. It was like he'd given up. I looked back and forth between him and Two-Bit and saw I wasn't going to get any support from either of them. "Screw both of you," I seethed, turning away from them and stomping down the hall to my room. "Soda's alive, I know he is!" I yelled before slamming my door and locking it behind me.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Icy darkness surrounded me, cutting off all sound, all air. I struggled against the weight holding my head in the water, but it was useless. I hadn't eaten in over two days and I couldn't fight against the strong arms of the guard. Just when I thought I was going to suffocate, I was yanked backwards and thrown onto the floor. I lay sputtering and choking on the ground, trying to ignore the pain in my ribs as I gasped to catch my breath. My hands had been tied behind my back earlier after I'd used them to knock over the pail of water, so I was helpless to stop the swift kick that came to my midsection.
"Tell me what I want to know, Mr. Curtis, and this will all be over," Mr. Vo said in his incessantly calm voice. He'd finally told me his name. Whether it was his real name or not didn't really matter to me.
I groaned, starting to breathe regularly again. "I already told you a hundred times," I mumbled, too tired to speak any louder. "I was just trying to run from a sniper. Your guards watching the bridge lied or fell asleep or somethin'." This earned me another kick to the ribs, harder than the one before it. I doubled up and groaned again, realizing too late that I should've kept my mouth shut. They never liked it when I accused their guards of anything.
"You're making this very difficult for yourself, Mr. Curtis." I wasn't the one making anything difficult. He was. There was an order in Vietnamese, then I was picked up by the back of my shirt and shoved into the water again. I barely had enough time to take in a quick breath before my air supply was cut off. I struggled—how could I not?—but of course it was no use. I was pulled out by my shirt and I quickly gasped for another breath before being thrust back in. This happened again and again until my lungs were screaming for air and I was sure I was gonna die.
Finally, I was pulled out and thrown on the floor again. I coughed up water that I'd somehow swallowed and tried to get a deep breath, half dizzy with lack of oxygen. "Are you going to cooperate?" Mr. Vo asked.
Anger flared through me and I couldn't help myself. "I am fucking cooperating, you idiot." A series of kicks landed in the middle of my back, making it arch and I felt a stabbing pain shoot through my chest in response.
"I suggest you be more polite, Mr. Curtis." I bit back a growl. I'd like to see him be polite after being starved and tortured for two days. Among other things. I did my best to avoid thinking about Chu, the guard who'd attacked me that first night in my cell. I hadn't seen him again and I hoped I never would.
I heard more orders I didn't understand, then the rope binding my hands together was cut and I was being pulled up by the two guards. Someone had popped my arm back into place the day before, but it was still sore and the pain flared as they dragged me through the corridor. My stomach sank when we reached my cell and I saw Chu standing guard outside it. I recognized him instantly; his face was burned into my memory. His mouth curved into a hungry smile when he saw me and I wanted to hurl. I think the only thing that stopped me was that there was nothing in my stomach to throw up.
When the guards tossed me into my cell, I dragged myself into the corner and curled into a ball. My only thought was that maybe in a corner I had some chance of protecting myself. It wasn't long before I heard low voices outside the door and I knew the guards were switching shifts. A minute later, the door opened and Chu stepped in. I pushed myself further into the corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. One experience with Chu had been more than enough. He closed the door behind him, then stepped closer to me and knelt down. He reached out to touch my cheek and I flinched. I hated the feel of his skin touching mine.
He grabbed hold of my arms and dragged me out of my corner. I struggled, but my pitiful attempts to defend myself just made him laugh. Not only was I starved and injured, but he was strong, probably stronger than I was even at my best. It didn't take long for him to get my clothes off, quickly followed by his, then he pinned me down, kissing and groping anywhere he could reach. I squeezed my eyes closed and turned my head away, trying to block out what was happening and praying it would be over quickly.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
"Pony!" I yelled, hammering on his door for what felt like the hundredth time. "Pony, you can't stay in there forever!"
"Go away!" he screamed from the other side of the door.
I sighed and leaned my forehead against the doorframe. After hearing the news about Soda the night before, Ponyboy had locked himself in his room and hadn't come out. I was tempted to get the key and force him out, but Two-Bit stopped me. "He's hurting. Give him time," my friend said, coming to stand next to me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
I nodded and pushed myself away from the door. I knew Pony needed some time to accept what had happened, but I didn't like him shutting himself away. For one thing, I was worried he'd do something stupid and hurt himself, but I also wanted him to come out for my own sake. I'd lost my brother, too. Although from Pony's perspective, we hadn't lost Soda; he was just "missing." As much as I wanted to believe he was alive somewhere, I knew better than to hold on to false hope. It would just be a bigger blow later when Soda didn't come home.
I took one last look at the closed door in front of me, then turned and headed for the kitchen. Two-Bit followed me and we both sat down at the table. He'd been my shadow for the last sixteen hours. Maybe he needed comfort of his own, or maybe he had the same fears about me that I had about Ponyboy. Either way, I was grateful for his presence. I didn't want to be alone.
"Ya know, Darry," he spoke up. "If Pony really wants to lock himself up, maybe we should convince him to lock himself in the bathroom. At least that way he can have a shower and take a piss."
I stared at Two-Bit incredulously for a second, then burst out laughing. Only he could come up with something funny at a time like this and it made me even more grateful to have him with me.
"What the hell could possibly be so funny?" I immediately stopped laughing and looked up to find Ponyboy standing in front of us, arms crossed, scowling.
Two-Bit opened his mouth to repeat what he'd said, but I quickly reached over and covered it with my hand. "Nothing, Pone. You came out," I stated, not sure what to make of the development.
Pony nodded and continued to glare at us. For a solid minute I just sat there, not able to think of a single thing to say. Finally, he broke the silence. "He ain't dead," he stated. From the way he talked, I could tell he completely believed it.
"Pone," I started, "he's in the middle of Vietnam and they can't find him."
"That doesn't mean he's dead," Pony insisted. "They didn't find a body, either. He ain't dead. And we ain't having a funeral."
I had to admit that there was a small piece of me that was desperately hoping Pony was right. I knew it was stupid, and I knew I would regret it later when reality came crashing down on me, but I had to hold on to that little piece of hope if I wanted to keep my sanity. And it didn't feel right to have a funeral when we weren't one hundred percent sure. "Okay, Pone." He looked at me uncertainly, not sure if I was actually agreeing with him or just humoring him. "Really, Pony," I assured him. "If they don't find a body, we won't have a funeral." I had to choke that sentence out. It felt horrible to be thinking of Soda's body, lifeless, lying somewhere in the jungles of a foreign country.
I was saved from my thoughts by a strangled sobbing sound. Pony was crying and I moved to hug him, trying to offer him comfort and take some for myself in return. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his head into my shirt. I felt another arm around me and looked over to find Two-Bit hugging both of us. I took one arm off Pony and wrapped it around my friend. He'd lost family too.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Four days. My sense of time was getting warped, but I was pretty sure it had been four days since I'd eaten. I'd been given a few spoonfuls of water each day; enough to keep me alive, but nothing more. During the time I spent in my cell I didn't have the energy to do anything more than lie and wait for them to come back for me, or wait for Chu to pay me another visit. He'd come a third time, and it had taken all my energy just to get dressed again after.
The door to my cell opened and I blinked at the light that flowed in from the corridor. I struggled a little as two guards came in and pulled me to my feet, but quickly stopped bothering to waste my energy; I'd save it for whatever they had planned. They dragged me into an empty room where Mr. Vo was waiting and my stomach clenched at the sight of him, knowing more questions I couldn't answer would be coming. I'd had the vague hope that maybe the guards had been taking me to food, or even a shower, and I mentally laughed at myself. I should've known better.
"Hello, Mr. Curtis," Mr. Vo said calmly as I was shoved to the ground. I glared at him and waited for the questions to start. "Have you decided to tell me what you know?"
A sudden surge of energy ran through me and I had to use all my self control to keep from strangling him. I kept my mouth shut, afraid that if I said anything at all I would end up attacking him. I waited for the blows that would come from my silence; when they started, I concentrated on staying on my knees for as long as I could. I made it through one endless round and when the assault ended, I collapsed on the ground, breathless.
I heard foreign words exchanged and one of the guards left the room. Fear pulsed in my veins as I wondered what he was doing. I didn't have to wait long; in a couple of minutes he returned with two more guards. With a jolt, I saw that they had another prisoner with them.
He was an American soldier, so he must've been at least eighteen, but he didn't look a day older than sixteen, if that. His eyes darted around the room, his terror showing clearly in them. When he saw me, he let out a small squeal. He looked relatively unhurt, but I was sure I looked awful. "Wh—what's g—going on?" he stammered. I wanted to know the same thing. I pushed myself into a sitting position, but Mr. Vo spoke up before I had a chance to do anything else.
"What were you doing on this side of the river, Mr. Curtis?"
I whipped my head towards him, blinking away the spots that came to my vision at the sudden movement. What did this kid have to do with why I was anywhere? A violent kick landed in my back and I heard a small cry from the kid. Glory, he must've been innocent to get upset over one kick. Or maybe I looked worse than I thought. "I was running from a sniper—" I was cut off by another kick, this one to my front, and I hissed as another rib broke. I looked again at the kid across from me and tried to figure out why they'd brought him into the room. "What's he doing here?"
"Answer the question," Mr. Vo ordered, ignoring me.
"I already did," I spat. "Now answer mine."
"Why were you on this side of the river?" he repeated.
"Why is he here?" I demanded again, infuriated.
The guard closest to me suddenly slammed his fist into my face. The force of the blow sent me onto my side and I heard another moan from the kid. "Why won't you just answer him?!" he cried.
I stared back at him, pity rising in me as I took a good look at him. His hair was caked with dirt, but it looked like it was blonde underneath. His wide, blue eyes stared back at me fearfully. There was hardly any sign of a beard on his face, indicating he'd either just been captured or his body hadn't developed much of one yet. He'd obviously never seen anything like this before. He probably came from some nice family in the suburbs of a quiet town. He shouldn't have to be here. I shouldn't be here, either. I'd seen my share of violence before, but the wars of Tulsa were nothing compared to this. These guys would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and there was no one here to help us.
"Why won't you answer them?" he asked again.
"I already did," I sighed. "I've been telling them the truth, everything I know, for days. They won't believe me."
"What do they want me for?" he asked.
I shook my head sadly at him. "I don't know."
"Are you going to answer me, Mr. Curtis?" Mr. Vo asked again.
"If I tell you I was running from a sniper, will you believe me this time?" I groaned as my smart remark earned me another kick to the back.
"Very well." Mr. Vo issued some orders and one of the guards left. I looked wearily at the kid; he looked like he was almost shaking with fear. To be honest, I wasn't too far behind him. This wasn't just another torture session. Mr. Vo had something more planned, I just couldn't figure out what. As soon as the guard came back, though, all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
Years of working at the DX had made me more than familiar with the smell of gasoline and the container the guard was now holding absolutely reeked of it. My heart jumped into my throat as I realized why they must've brought this kid in here, but I prayed to God I was wrong.
My mind started racing to come up with a plausible story, trying to fight the stupor that starvation had brought on it. "I was doing surveillance!" I blurted out.
"What were you looking for?" Mr. Vo asked.
I said the first thing that came to my mind. "A building. I was looking for a building."
I saw Mr. Vo nod to the guard with the gasoline, who started to move towards the kid. The kid's eyes darted back and forth between me and him. I could hear his rapid breathing even with the dozen or so feet between us. He'd obviously figured out their intention, too. "And people!" I hastily added. Mr. Vo put his hand up and the guard stopped. Encouraged, I kept going. "I was supposed to scout around and see if there were any groups of your soldiers and where they were."
Mr. Vo nodded again and suddenly the guard poured the gasoline on the kid. He coughed and spat some out, then looked at me, horrified. "Please, say something to stop them!" he begged. I could see tears start to form in his eyes and my mind raced to come up with something Vo wanted to hear.
"I was looking for soldiers by themselves, too!" I tried, and I panicked when I saw Mr. Vo nod again. "And places they could be hiding!"
The guard who'd brought in the gasoline struck a match and the kid started sobbing. "Please!" he cried. "Please stop them!"
"I was watching soldiers' movements, too!" I cried. When the guard didn't put the match out, I did the only thing I could think of. I launched myself at him, hoping to knock the match away from the kid, but I was shoved to the ground the second I moved. The match dropped, and the effect was instant. The kid's body was immediately engulfed in flames while I could do nothing but watch. His screams rang through the room and I frantically struggled to get up to help him, but I was pinned to the ground by two guards. The seconds stretched on and his screams grew louder as he thrashed back and forth, futilely trying to stop the pain.
I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling tears slide down my cheeks as I did. Instantly, I felt hands on my face and suddenly my eyes were being pried open and my head held in place so I couldn't look away. His screams had stopped now and he lay motionless, but the flames still consumed his body, burning away at his flesh. The smell of scorched skin permeated my senses, overpowering the fumes of the gasoline. Finally, when I thought I might become the first person to ever vomit up my actual stomach, a guard took a bucket I hadn't noticed from the corner and dumped water on the flames. Even with the fire extinguished, the smell was suffocating.
"Why would your superiors send a private to observe enemy movements? You would not have enough experience to complete the task adequately."
Mr. Vo's words barely even registered in my mind. All I knew was that I'd failed. I hadn't been able to come up with a good enough story and an innocent kid had died in agony because of it. I was pulled to my feet and led out of the room and down the corridor. In my shock, I hardly noticed. When my cell door closed behind me, I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. My broken ribs protested, but I just kept crying harder. That kid had probably never done anything wrong to anybody in his entire life, and now he was dead and it was all my fault.
