“Real mature, Harry,” Jack scolds. Harry shrugs and sinks back into his camping chair.
“How about a song?” Scotty says, lifting his guitar from the ground. He brings it everywhere and plays when tensions are high or we need a moment to just be.
“I’ve got the perfect nursery rhyme just for you.” He points at Harry, who folds his arms, scowling like a sulking infant.
Scotty strums the strings of his guitar, and I stifle a laugh when I recognize the tune.
‘If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands…’
In unison, me, Jack, and Brad clap.
“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands,” Scotty continues.
And again, we all clap, but this time the laughter is hard to contain.
“That’s your cue, Haz.” Brad nudges Harry.
“If you’re happy and you know it, and you really want to show it, if you are happy and you know it, clap your hands.
We all clap for a final time, and Harry deadpans, “I hate you all.”
A roar of laughter falls from us all, and it was what was needed. It’s the night before our next patrol, and nerves and emotions are high, but leave it to Scotty to lighten the mood.
Scotty begins playing the tune ofSittin’ on The Dock of the Bayby Otis Redding, a song he plays on every tour. There is a heaviness in the air tonight. Communications are down, meaning we can’t call home, and communications down means we lost someone. A brother in arms, someone’s son, someone’s husband, friend, maybe someone’s dad. So, I am grateful for Scotty and his guitar because right now, someone is receiving the worst news of their life, and it’s enough to make me want to run and never come back.
We all begin humming along as he sings the words. I close my eyes, picturing my happy place, my safe space. The place where I let my mind take me when it all gets too much, and I need abreather from reality. I’m on a deck; water surrounds me. Only the sound of the birds and a faint breeze flowing through my hair can be heard, and in my arms is Tori. Her face is always nuzzled into my neck, her sugary scent wraps around me, and when I bring this image to the forefront of my mind, it’s as if I can feel her chest pressed to mine, and she calms me. She is my safe space; she’s the one who always saves me, and she’ll never know it.
My eyes flicker open, and I focus on my friends, worrying for just a second that they suspect where my mind just went, but everyone has the same somber expression, and I know then that my secret is still safe. We all know what horrors may face us when we are back out on the front line tomorrow, but it’s the job we signed up to do, so all we can do is sit in companionable silence and pray we all make it back home.
Chapter Four
Noah
We move under a blanket of darkness, doing our best to go unnoticed. I lead our team of five, my best friends, as our full troop follows behind us. The importance of my role in this team is always at the forefront of my mind. My decisions, my choices, impact not just me, but us all. Even at night, the desert air is thick and humid, making it hard to take a clear breath. The weight of the helmet adds pressure to the base of my skull, and I’ll be relieved when I can take the fucker off.
I scan the surrounding buildings, looking for clues, shadows, anything that could indicate we are in danger. We walk in formation, Scotty ahead of me, Brad to my left, and Jack and Harry behind, so I can swing my gaze between them all.
We have a couple of miles before we reach safety, and I focus on the cool shower I’ll have, the ration pack of food I’ll devour,and the cot bed I’ll sleep in that, on any other day, would feel like torture, but when you have slept on the desert ground for nights on end, those things feel like luxury.
Gravel crunches beneath my boots, and something out of the corner of my right eye catches my attention. I turn my head and see nothing, but the sinking feeling that something is off won’t leave me. I turn my head again, and there, through a tiny window in a derelict stone building, the moon reflects off something shiny. Before I can yell a warning, everything happens in slow motion. Gunshots are fired, Scotty falls to the ground, and then chaos ensues.
I run to Scotty to cover him, while Brad moves to shield me and begins shooting. I tug on my radio, yelling so aggressively I don’t recognize my own voice. “Chaos six, this is Chaos One, Contact, wait out.” My head snaps to the side, taking in my surroundings, trying to figure out where the shot came from, and then, more shots fire from surrounding buildings and echo in the air. Dirt kicks up as bullets ricochet off the ground. Smoke and the scent of gunpowder invade my nostrils, making me lightheaded. The sound of metal being hit pings off a nearby vehicle, and then, something whistles past my ears, and Jack roars in pain.
Fuck, he’s been hit.
I’m not sure where he’s been hit, but I look over to see between the dust clouds that he and Harry have taken cover behind a truck, still firing, but Scotty is unmoving on the ground, blood soaking his vest. I need to get him out of here before he bleeds out; I need to get us all out of here. Alive. Smoke hangs thick in the air, blanketing us, stinging my eyes and almost choking me.
I roll Scotty over onto his back. Blood covers his neck and chest, and I freeze. My head swims and everything seems to slow for a second as I stare down at my best friend, my brother.
No, Scotty, no.
The sound of a machine gun shocks me back to the present, alerting me that I need to act fast, and get him the fuck out of here. I reach for my radio with a shaky hand, and press the button.
“Chaos Six, this is Chaos One. We’re pinned down, troops in contact, taking heavy fire! One urgent casualty. Request immediate support. Over.”
The radio crackles to life.
“Chaos One, this is Chaos Six, roger, MEDEVAC inbound. ETA eight mikes. QRF moving to your position now, over.”
