PROLOGUE
CALEB
Reilly shows up with two coffees right as I'm pulling the last photo off my locker door. He holds one out, and I take it without looking up, peeling the tape carefully so it doesn't rip the corner of the picture.
"You're still here?" he says. "I figured you'd be halfway to the parking lot by now."
"I'm getting there." I slide the photo into the side pocket of my seabag and grab the travel mug and spare razor off the shelf. Thirteen years and everything I'm taking with me fits in one bag.
"That's all you have?" Reilly asks, reading my face.
"It's all I needed," I tell him, feeling the hollowness of the moment. I'm about to head off into this great unknown with no plan at all. The past thirteen years of my life have been so rigid and structured, there wasn't time to try to sort out who I am or what I really want in life. Now there will be no one around me to give me orders and tell me what to do. Feels sort of shocking.
"It's depressing, Caleb."
I zip the bag shut and close the locker, letting the clang carry down the empty row. Some boot-camp kid will get assigned to it next week and never know the history behind who had it. Maybe they'll tape their own pictures up there and remember their memories like I did. Or maybe they'll abuse it and get out early like half the men who joined up when I did.
Reilly leans against the opposite row and sips his coffee. He's got about six months left on his contract, and we've been talking about building a private security firm every chance we get. Neither of us knows the first thing about running a business, though, and I've got some time to map things out while he finishes up.
"I found another office space," he says. "Down in Charlotte…" I'm not sure where we'll land, but somewhere in the Carolinas has been my goal. Who knows where life will take us, though. Maybe we'll go separate ways and maybe the security firm will work out.
"Hmm… Charlotte's good." It's hard to muster up any excitement. They say when God closes a door he opens a window, but I’m not seeing windows right now. Just wide open spaces that leave too much to the imagination. I'm used to routine and rigor. Who's going to keep me in line until Reilly gets out?
"Yeah, well, we'll see." He pushes off the lockers and falls into step beside me as I sling the seabag over my shoulder and head for the doors. "I'll set everything up when I'm out. By then you'll have the paperwork filed and probably a couple of contracts under your belt. I'll just come in and make it look professional." He says it with a wink and a chuckle.
"You're going to make it look professional?" I joke, lifting one eyebrow. I'm going to miss these guys and their banter. Life is about to take a huge turn and I have no clue what's around the bend.
"I'm the organized one, Caleb. You know that." He grins. "I already found us a good coffee maker online, nothing like the garbage they stock in the break rooms around here."
"What about the guys?"
"Dawson's up in four months, and Mick and Torres are right behind him." He glances at me. "They're all in, and the second their papers clear, they're ours."
We push through the barracks doors into the evening air. The quad is packed with the usual end-of-day traffic—marines crossing between buildings on their way to chow, a sergeant dressing down a private near the flagpole, a formation of recruits running drills on the far side of the grass. The cadence caller's voice carries across the quad, reminding me of things I'm going to miss.
Maybe I don't want to do this. What am I going to do with my life?
"You gonna miss it?" Reilly asks.
"I'll miss parts of it."
"Which parts?"
"They're not the parts you're thinking."
But yes. I'm going to really miss almost all of it. I'm not fond of the overseas deployments and the killing, though most of that stopped a few years ago. But I'll miss the comradery and thechain of command. And I'll miss having men look up to me for my hard work and passion. I've heard getting out can be hard because civilians don’t recognize the sacrifice and dedication it takes.
"You nervous?" he asks before taking a long swig of his coffee.
I push the door open and step out onto the grounds where the sun is still hot and the day is fading fast. With the stuff I have lined up for the next few months, I'm gonna feel very different than I do now. My journey takes me to the Midwest, into rain and more winter-like conditions than here at La Jeune.
"Hmm," I sigh, shrugging, "maybe a little, but I’m just gonna focus on the thing in front of me and take one day at a time."
"Yeah, I get that." Reilly stops when we get to the office and turns to face me, giving me one last salute, though he doesn't have to. "I'll be around, you know, Gunny?"
I salute him back and nod at him, feeling tightness seize my chest up. It might be the last real salute I give for a while. Maybe for life.
"You know where to find me," I say, thrusting out my hand. He grips it hard and then backs away, heading off to finish his rounds for the day.
