July 31, 2345, Edd and Maries.
Marie sat up in bed, unable to sleep. She had many nights like this, but tonight seemed that it would be a long night. Edd was still downstairs in the kitchen, filling out paperwork for the school. Marie moved out to the stairway. She sat at the middle of the stairs, gazing at the almost melancoly glow of the single flourescent lamp in the kitchen reflecting off the front door. She listened to the sound of rain hitting the pavement outside. This time last year, she was in a place where it never rained. That was part of what kept her from sleeping that night. The memories would come from time to time, voices of the past that aren't really there.
"Bravo-1, Heavily engaged, requesting fastmovers, Grid 4-9-4, Elevation 3-9-1-1, Mixed air, Infantry in Open".
She shook in a cold sweat, still hearing her platoon leaders cries for help, and the air force T.A.C. calling out positions on the radio. There were no guns being fired in the neighborhood, but she could smell the sulfuric tinge of gunpowder. She could still taste the sand below her, even when sitting on the textured carpet. Worst of all, during the dark of the night, she could still see the shadows of battle, dirt kicked in the air by Russian made bullets in the hands of mountain men and shepherd boys.
She got up to walk downstairs. She didn't like to be alone on these nights. Edd was carefully reviewing a financial aid paper, drinking from a PCFD coffee mug. Marie carefully studied his features in the midnight glow, from the fire academy shirt, to his wire frame reading glasses. Finally, Edd looked up, to see Marie. She stood at the edge of the dark, wearing an army PT shirt and shorts. "You're still awake?" he said. "Yeah, can't really sleep tonight", she softly spoke. "What's wrong" Edd politely ask, almost an instinct for him. "It was just a nightmare", Marie said, now taking the chair next to Edd. "Do you want to talk about it", Edd questioned.
"Talk about it? Not really, but I will anyway if you wanna hear", she said. Marie turned to the countertop behind Edd, and reached for a bottle of Makers Mark. This was the only way she could cope some nights. Edd wasn't too keen on having alcohol in the apartment, but Marie always kept the bottle on hand, and he had given up on the argument on day four. She poured two shots, and offered one to Edd, partially to annoy him. He politely declined, as always.
Marie dumped both shots back, and quickly chased them with two more. "Marie, slow down. That can't be good for you", Edd exclaimed at the drunken effort before him. "Edd, this is the only way I can tell this story, so give me a moment", she returned. Four more shots, and she was finally ready to talk.
Fire base Eastwood, Afghan-Pakistani Border, July 30, Last year.
"C'mon, Marie, stop stalling and show us your hand", Sanders said, sitting at an improvised poker table with Marie and another young soldier. Marie took a long drink from the canteen at her side, and slammed the cards down. "Three kings, boys". The other two threw out terrible hands and exclaimed their frustration. "God damn, girl, you'd make a preacher curse with a poker face like that", yelled Martin with frustrated laughter. The base was high above the valley, and with a lack of targets, many of the Second company, First Brigade were finding creative ways to entertain themselves. Marie struck a cigarette, unfortunately the cheapest brand that the taxpayers could provide, and took a deep hit.
"Hey, Kanker, I gotta ask, rest of us are getting worried waiting on the 'Dear John' Letters. Ain't you got anyone back home to worry about" Sanders asked. Marie took another drag from the cigarette, and sighed. "Well, there is this one guy" She started, only to be interrupted by whooping and cat calls. She finally started again. "He was in school studying biology last I heard, and he was working part time with the Fire department", she finished. "Oh, shit. You got the hots for a crispy critter, who'da thought it", Martin joked. They were interrupted by the company officer, Lt. Mallory, giving his war gaze. "Kanker, I need you on the north approach, the lookout nest is reporting being probed by some unknowns". She mashed out the cigarette, and picked up her rifle.
It was an old weapon, an M-14 with a modified scope. She grabbed up her helmet, and the pack of cigarettes, and began her hike up the ridge.
In quick time, she made the trip to the outpost. She hunkered down next to a couple of grunts on a machine gun nest. The flimsy stick and sandbag construction of the outpost, and the fire base in general, always gave Marie an odd feeling. All the money that went to this war effort, and still reduced to the simplest of defenses. "Whatcha got, boys", she asked, peering through the scope. "Couple of herdsman, they been staring down on us for a couple of hours, not moving. Can't tell if they're armed or not, figured you could get a better look", the young private spoke quickly. She peered through the scope, quickly sighting in on the two men. They wore traditional garbs, and didn't appear to have any weapons, but one was looking down with a set of binoculars. A large box sat on the ground at their feet. "Something doesn't seem right about these two", she questioned, ajusting the sights on her weapon. She adjusted her aim to the left, just up the ridge from the two, and laid eyes on a mortar nest. She could see three insurgents preparing to fire, and she was just out of rifle range. "Shit, they're gonna open up", she just had time to yell, before the first shot impacted.
The shot landed a few dozen yards from their dugout, rocking the ground they lay prone on. Marie quickly adjusted her aim back on the two men, and found they had set up a large, belt fed gun on their position. She fire a shot, and it bounced off the ground in front of one of the men, and spun out into the dirt. The gun opened up a hellish fury, as 7.62 millimeter death rained down on them. Her radio began clattering with the frustrated transmissions to and from other units. It was a full out attack.
Marie adjusted her aim once more, and fired a second round, striking the gunner in the shoulder. He fell to the ground, wounded as a deer struck by the hunter, but deer don't shoot back. "Post Charlie to Eastwood, taking rounds from uphill, need support, Taliban in open, heavy weapons sighted, Elevation 3-9-1-1, Grid 4-9-8", one of the young men yelled over the TAC channel. She could hear the familiar thumps from the mortars at her own camp below. Looking through the scope again, she could see birst of earthen fire destroy the machine gun nest. As the dust settled again, she saw no less than fifty taliban, armed with all manner of weapons, taking up assault positions on the ridge above.
Marie had a hundred thoughts running through her head, and settled on a plan. She let loose rage that filled her. Rage from that day in 2001, Seeing her father on a stretcher, FDNY jacket drapped over him, as ash still coated the ground. Rage from hearing the boys at school say he was made up, a guinea pig for a government cover up. Anger from the boyfriends her mother had brought home that treated her like garbage. Anger from Edd's passiveness and avoidance to her true feelings. She took aim, and began to fire.
One by one, men dropped from her deadly gaze and from springfield lead, gunpowder from southern mills, the scope from an old mans workshop in Murfreesboro, each round had a name. That name was death. The sulfur in the air and thunder on the ground numbed her senses. Every shot she fired was personal vengeance. Every reload was anger pulsing through her veins, blood pressure skyrocketing, pulse pounding like a 20 pound sledgehammer. No god above or demon in hell would match or disrupt the fury that had built for over a decade in her heart.
It wasn't enough. They were too numerous, and she and the two grunts had to turn back from the outpost. One of the men timed a satchel charge, a parting gift for the enemy. They ran down the hill, disheartened to find themselves retreating. They could hear the blast from the abandoned nest, as they closed in on the sandbag walls of Eastwood.
It was clear to see that the base was taking fire from all sides. It wasn't a random strike. This was planned. It was a repeat of the 9th Airborne from the Soviet invasion. They were trying to wipe out Second Company. Marie took a position on the southern firing line, under a barrage of Kalashnikov and PKM fire. "Jesus, they're coming out of the caves now", Mallory said, in between popping up from cover to return fire. He popped up once more, and before he could fire, a round pushed through his vest and into his chest. He hit the ground hard, and leaked like a broken pasta can. Marie quickly put pressure on the wound, and yelled for a medic. She turned to yell again, and another round grazed her helmet, breaking off a piece from the right side. She hit the dirt, amazed that she survived that. She began to crawl for another piece of sandbag cover, seeing shots ricochet from the sand in front of her. Just as she propped against another sandbag wall, she heard the familiar whistle of the mortar rounds. She knew it was coming down close, and stood to run.
She made two steps, before being floored by a hollowpoint round to the side. She felt the burning on her right side, and rolled to look. She was bleeding out from just below the breast, and could see that a fairly large portion of her jacket was torn away. She stood herself up again, trying for another run, when the shell landed behind her, sending hot metal fragments into her right leg.
She swam in and out of consciousness, only waking up to the sounds of roaring Helicopter gunships clearing the ridge, and seeing a blackhawk landing in front of her, 50 cal. guns firing down range, as an Air medic jumped off to triage her wounds.
"Jesus, we gotta red tag, Priority Trauma", she heard the man shout over his radio. She finally blacked out again. It was over.
0013, August 1st, The apartment. One year Later.
Marie pointed out the surgical scar once more on her right side ribs, and her right hip. "So the ribs were a rifle round, and the leg was pieces of a small mortar round. Still gets soar during rain and cold", She finished her story. Edd sat back silently. He was quiet for several minutes, before finally reaching for the shotglass and taking a shot. "That was terrible", he finally said. "Yeah, it was. But lets forget that for now", she said. She pushed the bottle back, and snugged closer to Edd. "Marie, it's late, and you've been drinking. I don't think this is right", Edd started. They had lived together for a while, but still slept in seperate beds. Edd felt he wasn't ready for this, with her. She ignored him, and brought his mouth to hers. He couldn't resist. She held him in like a vice, her mouth and slimly closed eyes hipnotized him. He was yet again amazed at how quickly her personality changed. She had just poured out the most grotesque account of war he had ever heard. Ken Burns would have wept at that. And yet, she was now back to seduction.
This wasn't normal seduction, though. Normally, Marie was playfully flirty, with quick unwarranted kisses and hugs. Tonight, though, she was going for the prize. Finally, they were both overwelmed by passion. They retired to the couch, embraced the whole way. "I'm all scarred up, Edd. I need this", she exclaimed between breaths.
It was best summed up as such. Terrifying, wild, and over too soon. They both passed out on the couch.
