Note: See Part 1 for disclaimers.
THE ONLY EASY DAY IS YESTERDAY
"The Journey of Jeremy Keller"
Part 15
The trip for supplies took longer then Jeremy could have
imagined. Mandy said that the turn off was just a few miles down the
rode, it turned out to be ten. She had also made it sound like the feed
store was within sight of the intersection, it was another five miles. At
least they were expecting him, only they were short handed from having
to deal with other early risers.
Waiting for the people to get their act together, Jeremy had time
to think about someone one of the clerks reminded him of. The man was
short, maybe 5'6 and all business. The man he had known he met in
Saudi Arabia while he was staying at Kobar Towers...
Jeremy had just gotten through the line at the Baskin Robbin's
ice-cream truck and was enjoying a pint of Cookies And Cream ice-
cream when he felt the buzz of the quickening. He immediately scanned
the crowd for someone looking for him. A short stocky sergeant stood at
the perimeter of the lot examining the lines of soldiers. The man wore
his full battle dress uniform, including kevlar helmet, utility belt with
MOP suit roll attached to back, and flak jacket. The layer of dirt and
dust on the man made it look like he had just come out of the desert.
The two men caught eyes and Jeremy headed to the sergeant. On
recognizing the Lieutenant bars, the Sergeant immediately snapped a
clean professional salute. "Master Sergeant Thomas McSmithers." the
man said for introduction as Jeremy approached.
Jeremy returned the salute and introduced himself. The two men
then shook hands and started walking away from the crowd.
McSmithers made an obvious gesture of looking at the scenery around
them then said "Sir, Saudi Arabia is a beautiful country, don't you
think?"
"I've seen it mostly from the air and the sea, but I must admit
it is unique." Jeremy responded. "They tell me the whole Kingdom is
considered holy ground." he added.
"Men like us could live here for a very long time." the Sergeant
agreed.
Jeremy decided to not beat around the bush. "Sergeant, I'm new
to the game, could you tell me about yourself, and how you live?"
Sergeant McSmithers smiled "How long have you known what
you are?"
"A couple of days, a Saudi found me on the beach after a failed
mission." Jeremy explained "He told me what I was and explained the
rules, then brought me here."
The other man looked at Jeremy's branch of service on his
uniform. "That must have been some mission, Sir." he then motioned to
one of the many half underground parking garages in the complex. This
one the AirForce had converted into a mess hall. On the top were a few
tables, benches and planters. Each garage had been designed by the
Saudis for double duty, the tops of some were children's play ground,
some where small parks or gardens and other things.
The two walked up the few steps to the long abandoned park and
leaned on one of the marble tables. "Sir, I was born in the new world in
the early sixteen hundreds, I grew up in the Richmond Virginia area and
was killed by a runaway horse cart when I was in my twenties. Since
then I have used countless names and identities, and have spent most of
my time in the military. I was born to be a soldier, and I'm a very good
one." McSmithers then looked at Jeremy. "I am not a warrior though."
Jeremy scrutinized the statement. "You were born to be a
soldier, but not a warrior, isn't that a contradiction?"
"Not really, Sir. Yes, I'm a leader, but I usually end up working
support. Trucking, supplies, quartermaster. This is who I am. An
anonymous truck driver."
"And what do you think I am?" Jeremy asked.
"You, Sir, are a warrior. I can see it in your manner, your style
and in your eyes. If you are not careful, you will die again in battle and
have to explain how you came back. Be careful in this day of high tech
identification, it is becoming exceedingly difficult to rejoin under a new
name after a current ID has been used up."
Jeremy thought about the comments then asked "And how about
the game, how do you deal with it?"
"Actually, the game is easy to avoid in the army. People are
tracked closely, the equipment we carry is all issued, imagine being
caught in sword dual on a base somewhere. It would raise a lot of
questions. The only thing is that many of us are drawn to the military,
we are, almost literally, born to be warriors."
"Tell me," Jeremy asked "have you ever heard of an immortal
who refused to play the game?"
"They've been out there." Sergeant McSmithers said "But they
never last very long. Immortals who don't carry swords and refuse to
fight either get killed quickly by a passing immortal, or hunted down if
they run. The thing is, even if they are good at running, there always
seems to be another immortal waiting were they run to. Playing the
game is the price you pay for your extra time on Earth."
Jeremy looked at the softening pint of ice cream in his hands.
"Well, Sergeant, thank you for your time." Jeremy said and shook the
man's hand. McSmither's saluted and went off on his own, probably
back to his trucks. Jeremy continued to lean on the table and started
slurping down the ice-cream, using the little plastic spoon that had come
with it.
When Jeremy was a quarter mile away from the main road, as he
finally returned with his load of feed he saw a pack of motorcycles pass
headed west on the main road. Only as he turned into the driveway of
the old farm house and found it brutally still did he begin to place who
the motorcycles where.
to be continued.......