Chapter 7) Eyes of a stranger
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He couldn't believe he woke up, not sure where he was. He focused. It was dark around him, but there was just enough light to show him where he was, through the gap of the tunnel shone early sunlight. The morning dew dripped from the grass that had found a way in.
Lerner blinked surprised. 'Who.' Was all he could think. 'Who…'
He was the first one that woke up, next to him sat Mosh, half bended forward. He was still holding Lerner's gun, fingers clutched around it, as it was his lifeline. There where dark bruises around his eye and in the dim light he somehow looked like a panda bear. A shaved and terrified panda. His helmet had was a bit turned and had sunk over a small bit of his face, boldly going nowhere, was written on the back. If he wasn't in that much pain and fear he would have laughed. Irony was a bitch.
He listened to the slow peaceful breathing of his ally. It was the only sound he could pick up, other then his own.
'But is that a good thing, or a bad thing?' He wondered.
Using the muddy wall behind him he stood up, it was harder then he had expected it to be. His legs where stiff and sore and he felt beaten, broken.
Pushing himself from wall to wall he tried not to us his aching shoulder. Maybe he could us it in a few day's, he hoped, but not now.
There was some movement behind him. "What are you doing?" Mosh said with a raucous throat.
"Checking outside." He answered without looking back at the panda bear.
"You're sure that's a good idea?" Mosh said doubtful.
"No, but we can't stay here the rest of your lives and I don't know how long those walls will hold after the rain… and the fight." Rethinking last night Lerner swallowed. 'Who knows what will be out there.' "Give me the gun."
Mosh crawled up clumsy and handed him his M-14. "Be careful." He murmured.
"I will." 'Like your in the stated to fight, a gook will laugh and shoot before I even can point my gun.' Unease he looked up to the gap. There could be a ANV soldier, or a dozen. Up in the field he was a easy catch the moment he stuck his head throw the hole.
Still, down here they where sitting ducks.
He bit his lip and squeezed the gun thigh. 'Better get this over with.' And he started climbing up, pushing the barrel of the gun in the mud for balance. And he used his knees to prevent him from sliding back.
He succeeded to get to the top. First he stuck the barrel out and waited.
Nothing happened, no sounds of running soldiers, no Vietnamese war yells not even a cough.
Somehow that made the little hairs in his neck stand up. 'The sound of nothing, means death. Many deaths.'
Holding his breath and preparing for the worse he cocked his head over the edge.
Misery, the first word that got in him. It was misery. No bird dared to sing on this soundless day. Death was in the air and it didn't take long to spot on of his victims. It was a American soldier, he lay a few feet from the hole. He was in his mid twenties and Lerner might have seen him once or twice in the field. Maybe the man had a family, a wife, children. Maybe he'd thought about them in the battle, fighting because of that thought. Fighting to get back one day. As they all wanted.
But the soldier laying before him would never go back, or in a body bag. There wouldn't be any joy for him. Hollow eyes looked up to the sky, watching but with no gaze. His mouth was open, letting out a last silently scream. The body lay in a pool of his own blood, the gun just a few inches from his stiff fingers.
"O glory may die within you, fight lonesome soldier, may there be some justice for your sorrows. Be with God and watch over another Brother of the Field." He spook very soft and touched the little cross of his rosary. It was a line he'd heard an older soldier say one day when his best bud had died. The words had gave him some comfort that moment and ever time after he saw a soldier that passed away.
Between two trees lay another soldier, his head resting on a rock, skull cracked. Man probably slipped. A quick way to get it all over with, not that painful, no squirming for hours until there was not enough blood for your heart to functioned.
Lerner looked away and it was a good thing his stomach was empty.
"Is it safe?" Mosh asked from beneath.
"For now." Lerner answered short and climbed out of the hole. Nothing moved around him, not even the wind seemed to dare touch the leaves of the trees.
He helped the boy climbing and pulled him out, while he tried to pick up some sound. Anything that would give him the smallest hint that someone had survived other then them.
"You think there hiding too?" Mosh asked nervously.
"Depends on who you think is hiding." His voice sounded surprisingly calm, but in his head he was as worried and nervous as Mosh was.
Suddenly Mosh let out a soft cry, he'd spotted the dead American. Frightened he stepped back and grabbed his wrist.
"T-that guy was in my platoon, w-we played cards a few times…" Simple words, with much emotion behind it, as memories. Lerner knew that feeling, like every soldier that saw a friend die or had to close a body bag. Every dead was a lost and hard to go through, because of the 'what ifs', the guild and the somehow the feeling of victory. Because you survived it, but for how long?
"Don't think about it to much." He pulled his sleeve lose and he hated the hard tone in his voice and the way he acted like a jerk. But that was life out here, you needed to be cold and strong. "We have to get moving, back to base." The boy only nodded and couldn't keep his eyes of the dead.
"Move, Mosh, don't stay standing there!" He snapped and bit his tongue, he hated that he sounded like Barnes. He hated it even more he felt like Barnes, don't look, don't ask walk your way and be like a rock. 'Barnes…' A quick flame of hate rushed throw his body. 'I hope he died, hope it hurt.' Bitterness tasted in his dry mouth and he swallowed. 'Think clear, don't get shot now, Alligator.'
Mosh slowly started to unfreeze and came running after Lerner, trusting him to lead the way. To be honest Lerner had no clue where he was going. Last night had been a blur that he didn't want to remember at all. But the bodies started to grow, so they must be getting close, he figured.
Mosh walked behind him and kept silent, only made a soft noise once or twice after they passed a body. He watched the boy a few times without showing it. But the few looks gave him enough information what he was feeling. His face was pale, as he hadn't seen the sun in ten years, giving his eyes even more the panda-look. He knew Mosh wanted to close his eyes but knew the consequence of that, so he kept his eyes wide open even when it hurt.
Somehow the bodies didn't infect Lerner that much, he saw, he noticed and kept it in. He'd seen it time after time and after a while it made you cold. Like you took the pain, you took the view. You needed that to keep sane, or drugs and alcohol. Some choose for the bullet after to much.
Survival instinct kept him up his toes, kept him walking without a pause even when his shoulders screamed for some rest and his feats started to tremble. The gun felt heavy in his hand he wasn't sure he was able to aim in time.
After a few minutes, that felt more like hours, he spotter the ruin of the armoury barrack.
"We made it!" He made a wild gesture with his gun, let out the breath he hold and started to run down. Leaves slapped in his face, he almost tripped but it didn't make him stop running or slow down. He was to glade to be back, in safety.
That feeling changes drastically.
'It's all gone, all gone.' His heart sunk in his boots and he quickly grabbed a tree so he wouldn't fall down.
RedFort was destroyed. It was gone, all gone. A few parts of the barracks where still smouldering and the standing pieces of wood creaked as the wind blow by. Giants gaps the size of big trucks where the only remains of the other barracks, they where completely vanished. And the bodies… so many bodies, a hundred and a hundred more lay around the field. Some missing parts, like arms and legs. Some missed there face, it was shot off, made them unrecognisable. Only there tag would identify them, if the gooks hadn't stool them. The two enemies lay spread through each other, somehow bonded because they where all gone, dead.
One soldier lay with his stomach open, organs exposed. Vultures already feasting off it, soon the smell would kick in.
His eyes rest on a man that was still alive, it was a ally. He hold his stomach, his fingers trying to push the blood back in. He made a sound, ragging. It hit him, it was the mans breathing or what was left from it. It sounded like a broken engine, jamming to start. He coughed and spit. Blood, dark and crimson.
His sore legs started to move, he didn't want to, but he got forced to get closer to the man. He walked until he stood just in front of the man, his boots almost touching his sole. The man blinked, feeling his shadow in front of the hot sun and opened his eyes.
There was relieve. Finally, they came, the eyes said. But as the moments went by the expression changes, He came alone. A blink and the eyes started to water. Please!
He knew that gaze, he knew what the man wanted him to do. His eyes never left the face of the barely breathing man, he sank to his knees and picked up a gun. A M-1911 handgun, just out of reach of the soldier. He stood up, his shadow fell over the face of the man. He was barely breathing too, he watched as his hand reached out. His index finger found the trigger.
The eyes blinked. It's okay, do it.
His hand started to tremble. 'This is a soldier, a friend.' He closed his eyes and took a better grip. 'I'm a killer, murderer, slayer. Who am I?!' He bit his lip firmly, the breathing of the soldier still ragging throw the air. 'What happened to Gator? Where is Alligator-boy, they kid that loved swimming in the Trinity. Who am I?!'
His shoulders lowered he looked down ashamed, tears flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry… I can't!"
He turned around and run away, feeling two eyes burn in his back and hearing the ragging breathing over and over, but was it from the man or did he hear it in his head? He jumped back into the bushes, back under the trees as if the devil was chasing him. He run so fast and didn't other to look up. Until he run into Mosh, fearful he looked up. The shock and absolute horror must be so readable from his face.
"W-what's going on?" The boy asked staring at him as if he was a corps that came back alive.
He made an attempt to tell him what he'd seen down there, he wanted to describe the pictures that whirled throw his mind so they might disappear if he spook them out loud.
No words came, only tears. The dead man with his organs all around him, vultures that gave him a meaningful look, the smell that slowly started to be noticed, the blood, the ragging breathing… and the eyes, o god the eyes…
His knees buckled and he landed on the ground, with his eyes closed but still surrounded by images, the smell still so fresh in his mind he could swear he was still down there.
'Jesus, how… I… I can't… get it out!' He tried to keep himself apart and buried his face in his hands in a weak attempt to make it go away.
The footsteps of Mosh came into his direction, stopped and turned around.
In a flash he was back on his feet. "Don't! Don't go there!" He grabbed the boy in a rush, almost jumped on him, getting a good grip around his collar. "It's… it's all gone! You don't want to see that place! It's…" He stopped.
Images, -ragging breathing, eyes wide open, blood, and the smell… smell-
He let go of Mosh and grabbed his stomach. Slowly he sank down his knees again. 'Wont puke. Not now!'
He didn't, so he sat down to find peace of mind.
For a very long time it was silent, still no birds, almost no wind, nothing. He hated that it made it so real… down there, like even nature was holding her breath.
Mosh, not having move a inch finally broke the silence. "Where should we go?"
He spat on the ground. "I dunno, but where not going, there." He gestured to the formal camp, not looking at it. "I'm not… It's…"
"I understand." Mosh helped him.
'No you don't, you don't have any idea.' He thought lost. 'But thanks for saying it.'
"We can't stay here." He dared to peek to the camp for a moment. "There is no radio, there is nothing. So it could take days until anyone showed up. The stench will-" He cut himself off. "We have to go."
"Let's go to the East. That's where the choppers came from." Mosh pointed out. It sounded like a reasonable plan, considering that his plan was screaming for help.
"And what about the other survivors? Should we wait for them, or go looking?" Mosh asked.
"No. If we find some we'll join them. But where not staying and where not trying to help down there." Lerner decided quick.
"But-"
"Mosh, we are going. Now!" He snapped. The boy bit his lip and his eyes lingered to the destroyed camp below.
'It's naïve and stupid of him to think we can save one of them down there. If they can't walk they can't be saved. He was no doctor, they had no drugs not even bandages. Taking someone with them would be suicide. It would hold them up and slowed them down. And what about water, food or shelter? He lost his backpack, the only few things he had where is clothes, his rifle and the handgun of the soldier. Not a map, no basic survival stuff. They had nothing.
Finally, reality started to kick in. There they where, just two soldiers, one barely an adult the other just a teen that had been out here for a not much more then a month. They where alone, with nothing, in a jungle dangerous itself. And the gooks, what about them? He had no idea where the slit-eyes where or with how many they would be.
He'd fought, that had been his goal, his mission. And now he had to fight again, both of them, to stay alive.
I told you it was going to be ugly. Some part of me must be really morbid. Then again I make no sense at all, one moment I'm writing about death, the next about a cute couple.
If you review I mighta hurry up.
Nuky
