"Into the /mine field/!" Henry stood up as Klinger ducked his head into the mess tent to shout out the word.
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, "Oh, man, and he was going after Radar, too... that poor kid'll get blown to bits!"
These words had hardly left his mouth but he was at the door, following Klinger and Potter across the compound.
Sidney was about to follow, but B.J. stopped him, "Hey, Sid, shouldn't we stay here and watch after Hawkeye?"
They turned their neck in unison to look at the Captain, who was staring blankly at a glass of powdered milk.
Sidney shook his head, "I don't think he's going anywhere, and, as long as there aren't any mines in the mess tent--"
"-- And I've had suspicions about some of the meatballs--" B.J. cut in.
"I think that Radar and the Father need more help than he does, right now."
B.J. nodded, and they headed out the door.
*
Henry arrived at the edge of the minefield before either the Colonel or the Corporal, and squinted out into the darkness, cupping his mouth with his hands and calling, "Radar!" He heard a shuffle of boots behind him, and spun around in eager expectation, but it was only Colonel Potter, Klinger close behind, lifting his simple peasant skirt.
"All right, folks, this is what we're going to do:" Colonel Potter started, authoritatively.
"I'm going after them," Henry informed them, turning to face the minefield and trying to shove aside the nagging little fear of dying a second time over.
"Klinger, you're going to-- What? No you're not, and that's an ord--"
Henry nearly growled as the beast inside chafed at being told what to do and what not to do. He spun back around, scowling, fangs bared. "Look!" he snarled, then winced, "Oww--" as he'd not anticipated the problems of speaking with fangs. He lifted a hand to press on the small nick on his lip, and continued, albeit less impressively. "Look, you might be his C.O. now, and you might BE a full Colonel, but that kid was-- is-- like a son to me, and I won't stand by and see anything happen to him!"
Even for a man who'd seen two wars prior to this one, Colonel Potter stood up remarkably well to the onslaught from the vampire. "Alright, alright," he ceded, "Calm down. Just how do you intend to find them in all of this?"
Henry knew. He didn't, however, care to say. He took a step into the minefield. "I'll find him." He stood still for an instant, rooting around within himself for that hunger he'd been suppressing all evening. When the wind turned to bring in the air from the mountains, rather than from the camp, which was, of course, full of human life, he smelled it. Faint, yes, but there. Human blood. He shivered at how nice it smelled. He gripped tightly onto that part of himself that said that he was only using the smell to find his friend as it grew smaller and smaller, and let the beast lead him there.
*
Meanwhile, Radar and Father Mulcahy had taken the long road (and the safe road, not being the one through the minefield) back around the side of camp, using the cover of darkness to conceal their return.
"Okay," Radar whispered to the Chaplain, "You remember what I told you to do, right?"
"Yes," Mulcahy admitted, "I don't know how it'll help, but..."
"Father?"
"Yes, my son?"
"Do you have a blessing for a practical joke?"
"I'm-- sure I could come up with something."
Radar smiled, "Thanks. He's in the office."
"Right."
They parted ways, Radar toward the mess tent, Mulcahy toward the office.
"Hawkeye? Hawkeye..." Radar called through the mesh wall of the dining area.
"Huh?" Hawkeye replied.
Radar, seeing that Hawkeye was alone, crept in the door. "It's me, Radar... come with me,"
Hawkeye turned, saw that the words he had heard were, in fact, correct, and showed the first sign of emotion since he'd been found in the Swamp: terror. "No," he stated simply, lifting a hand to try to protect himself.
The guilt that Mulcahy had instilled in Radar's system multiplied itself and seemed to be too much for him to contain, seeing the pain he'd caused the sometime cheerful and glamourous Swamprat.
"Please... come out to the compound with me. I'm going to try to make things right, again."
Hawkeye watched him for a moment. The terror ebbed, but remained. "Okay." He finally said, and stood up.
Radar put on his best grin. "Great. Follow me," he scampered out of the tent.
Hawkeye plodded along behind.
*
"Major Burns!" Mulcahy shouted as he ran in the front door of Radar's office. "Thank goodness I found you here."
Frank had been trying to reorganize his contingent of crosses so that he wouldn't get quite so perforated should he ever fall down again. "What's it to you--" he sneered, then looked up from straightening his shirt.
"Hey! It's you! I thought you'd be having a party with the angels by now, /lieutenant/."
"Oh? Oh! Yes, me, too... I... ran into the minefield. I was terrified. But I decided I should come back here and warn /you/, Major."
Frank snorted, "Well, you can leave me to my own business, thank you very much!" His upper lip quivered, however, and soon enough he followed with "Warn me what?"
Mulcahy stepped forward. "Colonel Blake saw what you did to the VIP tent. He's HOPPING mad, and looking, I think, for you."
Frank turned white.
*
"I hope he knows what he's doing," Potter turned to murmur apprehensively to Klinger.
"Me, too, sir."
They looked back to where Henry had been standing. He was gone. There wasn't a trace of him to be seen.
B.J. and Sidney hustled up to the two of them.
"How can we help?"
Potter was tongue-tied for a moment, then, figuring that he'd go along with his own plan and let Henry deal with what he felt he had to deal with would at least let people feel like they were doing something and was likely not to get him another pair of fangs in the face, he nodded his head and spread his hands. "All right. You two," he pointed to the two newcomers, "Go to the supply tent and get all the lanterns you can."
"You," he turned to Klinger, "Go back to the office and find the maps of the minefield."
"All of you--" he added, "Try not to let everybody else get all panicky. This'll be strictly hush-hush, for now."
"Right, Colonel," B.J. nodded, and the three of them headed off to their allotted tasks.
*
The landmines were confused about the superhuman speed of their intended target. They watched it pass overhead without ever setting foot on the ground long enough to set off an explosion.
Before the men he'd left on the other side could turn back around, he was standing in the mouth of the cave, staring down into the darkness and trying to get a grip on the animal he'd almost let loose.
"Radar, are you in here?" he called softly into the cave, stepping down.
No, he wasn't here. There wasn't anybody here. Henry lowered himself to sit on a broken stalagmite. Where was that enticing odor coming from, then? As he considered, he kept lowering himself, until he was leaning up against the stalagmite he'd recently been sitting on, and still he kept slouching.
He didn't think about it until he turned to rest himself on his elbow and found traces of blood on the rocks, here and there, as if somebody had fell. Somebody... wait, no... something.
Henry squinted, wondering how exactly he knew that this substance didn't come from a human being... no, not a person... not an animal, either. Something else.
Henry sat up, peeking over the cave's mouth, to just outside, making sure nobody was coming.
He dabbed up a little of the still-wet blood on his finger and tasted it.
~
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, "Oh, man, and he was going after Radar, too... that poor kid'll get blown to bits!"
These words had hardly left his mouth but he was at the door, following Klinger and Potter across the compound.
Sidney was about to follow, but B.J. stopped him, "Hey, Sid, shouldn't we stay here and watch after Hawkeye?"
They turned their neck in unison to look at the Captain, who was staring blankly at a glass of powdered milk.
Sidney shook his head, "I don't think he's going anywhere, and, as long as there aren't any mines in the mess tent--"
"-- And I've had suspicions about some of the meatballs--" B.J. cut in.
"I think that Radar and the Father need more help than he does, right now."
B.J. nodded, and they headed out the door.
*
Henry arrived at the edge of the minefield before either the Colonel or the Corporal, and squinted out into the darkness, cupping his mouth with his hands and calling, "Radar!" He heard a shuffle of boots behind him, and spun around in eager expectation, but it was only Colonel Potter, Klinger close behind, lifting his simple peasant skirt.
"All right, folks, this is what we're going to do:" Colonel Potter started, authoritatively.
"I'm going after them," Henry informed them, turning to face the minefield and trying to shove aside the nagging little fear of dying a second time over.
"Klinger, you're going to-- What? No you're not, and that's an ord--"
Henry nearly growled as the beast inside chafed at being told what to do and what not to do. He spun back around, scowling, fangs bared. "Look!" he snarled, then winced, "Oww--" as he'd not anticipated the problems of speaking with fangs. He lifted a hand to press on the small nick on his lip, and continued, albeit less impressively. "Look, you might be his C.O. now, and you might BE a full Colonel, but that kid was-- is-- like a son to me, and I won't stand by and see anything happen to him!"
Even for a man who'd seen two wars prior to this one, Colonel Potter stood up remarkably well to the onslaught from the vampire. "Alright, alright," he ceded, "Calm down. Just how do you intend to find them in all of this?"
Henry knew. He didn't, however, care to say. He took a step into the minefield. "I'll find him." He stood still for an instant, rooting around within himself for that hunger he'd been suppressing all evening. When the wind turned to bring in the air from the mountains, rather than from the camp, which was, of course, full of human life, he smelled it. Faint, yes, but there. Human blood. He shivered at how nice it smelled. He gripped tightly onto that part of himself that said that he was only using the smell to find his friend as it grew smaller and smaller, and let the beast lead him there.
*
Meanwhile, Radar and Father Mulcahy had taken the long road (and the safe road, not being the one through the minefield) back around the side of camp, using the cover of darkness to conceal their return.
"Okay," Radar whispered to the Chaplain, "You remember what I told you to do, right?"
"Yes," Mulcahy admitted, "I don't know how it'll help, but..."
"Father?"
"Yes, my son?"
"Do you have a blessing for a practical joke?"
"I'm-- sure I could come up with something."
Radar smiled, "Thanks. He's in the office."
"Right."
They parted ways, Radar toward the mess tent, Mulcahy toward the office.
"Hawkeye? Hawkeye..." Radar called through the mesh wall of the dining area.
"Huh?" Hawkeye replied.
Radar, seeing that Hawkeye was alone, crept in the door. "It's me, Radar... come with me,"
Hawkeye turned, saw that the words he had heard were, in fact, correct, and showed the first sign of emotion since he'd been found in the Swamp: terror. "No," he stated simply, lifting a hand to try to protect himself.
The guilt that Mulcahy had instilled in Radar's system multiplied itself and seemed to be too much for him to contain, seeing the pain he'd caused the sometime cheerful and glamourous Swamprat.
"Please... come out to the compound with me. I'm going to try to make things right, again."
Hawkeye watched him for a moment. The terror ebbed, but remained. "Okay." He finally said, and stood up.
Radar put on his best grin. "Great. Follow me," he scampered out of the tent.
Hawkeye plodded along behind.
*
"Major Burns!" Mulcahy shouted as he ran in the front door of Radar's office. "Thank goodness I found you here."
Frank had been trying to reorganize his contingent of crosses so that he wouldn't get quite so perforated should he ever fall down again. "What's it to you--" he sneered, then looked up from straightening his shirt.
"Hey! It's you! I thought you'd be having a party with the angels by now, /lieutenant/."
"Oh? Oh! Yes, me, too... I... ran into the minefield. I was terrified. But I decided I should come back here and warn /you/, Major."
Frank snorted, "Well, you can leave me to my own business, thank you very much!" His upper lip quivered, however, and soon enough he followed with "Warn me what?"
Mulcahy stepped forward. "Colonel Blake saw what you did to the VIP tent. He's HOPPING mad, and looking, I think, for you."
Frank turned white.
*
"I hope he knows what he's doing," Potter turned to murmur apprehensively to Klinger.
"Me, too, sir."
They looked back to where Henry had been standing. He was gone. There wasn't a trace of him to be seen.
B.J. and Sidney hustled up to the two of them.
"How can we help?"
Potter was tongue-tied for a moment, then, figuring that he'd go along with his own plan and let Henry deal with what he felt he had to deal with would at least let people feel like they were doing something and was likely not to get him another pair of fangs in the face, he nodded his head and spread his hands. "All right. You two," he pointed to the two newcomers, "Go to the supply tent and get all the lanterns you can."
"You," he turned to Klinger, "Go back to the office and find the maps of the minefield."
"All of you--" he added, "Try not to let everybody else get all panicky. This'll be strictly hush-hush, for now."
"Right, Colonel," B.J. nodded, and the three of them headed off to their allotted tasks.
*
The landmines were confused about the superhuman speed of their intended target. They watched it pass overhead without ever setting foot on the ground long enough to set off an explosion.
Before the men he'd left on the other side could turn back around, he was standing in the mouth of the cave, staring down into the darkness and trying to get a grip on the animal he'd almost let loose.
"Radar, are you in here?" he called softly into the cave, stepping down.
No, he wasn't here. There wasn't anybody here. Henry lowered himself to sit on a broken stalagmite. Where was that enticing odor coming from, then? As he considered, he kept lowering himself, until he was leaning up against the stalagmite he'd recently been sitting on, and still he kept slouching.
He didn't think about it until he turned to rest himself on his elbow and found traces of blood on the rocks, here and there, as if somebody had fell. Somebody... wait, no... something.
Henry squinted, wondering how exactly he knew that this substance didn't come from a human being... no, not a person... not an animal, either. Something else.
Henry sat up, peeking over the cave's mouth, to just outside, making sure nobody was coming.
He dabbed up a little of the still-wet blood on his finger and tasted it.
~